The Toybox, Part 4 (Patreon)

The next morning, Mrs. Sugartits awoke, yawned, stretched, and got up to get dressed. When she opened her closet door, she remembered that she was no longer allowed to wear any of the clothing inside. She pursed her lips thoughtfully as she shifted the coat hangers across the bar, wistfully perusing the small collection of simple outfits she had worn in her old life. It seemed a shame to let so many perfectly nice outfits go to waste. She hadn't been any sort of fashionista, but she did wish she was still allowed to at least wear something to cover her rear. She looked down at the apron she was still wearing. She would have to wash it and iron it soon. Then she remembered that Baby Dolly was almost certainly lying in a wet diaper now, and that it was her job to get her changed. A diaper rash would be a clear violation of her mandate to keep her Mistress' toys comfortable. She also remembered that her Mistress had promised her a spanking as punishment for questioning her orders. She closed the closet door and leaned against it. She made a sound that was halfway between a chuckle and a sigh.

 "This is it." She whispered to herself. "This is what my life is now."

 It wasn't a sad thought, exactly. She wasn't sure how to feel. Some parts of her new existence were pleasant enough. She liked Baby Dolly, and looking after her needs was certainly enjoyable. If it weren't for the fact that she was trapped in her house all day, forced to carry out the thoughtless commands of an all-powerful sociopath, she might even have been looking forward to a day of caring for a living baby doll. Still, she didn't have time to sit around and think about her situation. She was on duty, after all. She had a new purpose in life that she had to fulfill, for better or worse. She had a house to manage and a dolly to take care of. Steeling herself, she got back to work.

 Baby Dolly was lying on her side on her mattress, face buried in her pillow, blanket wadded beside her. It didn't look like she had slept very soundly. Mrs. Sugartits sniffed the air thoughtfully as she approached. Baby Dolly's diaper was definitely very wet. She considered trying to change Baby Dolly without waking her, but realized that that might be even more frightening and uncomfortable for her. She cleared her throat.

 "Good morning, Boo-Boo Britches. How did you sleep?" She whispered softly.

 Baby Dolly blew a derisive breath through her lips. "Eh...not great? Kept having this horrible nightmare about an evil witch turning me into a friggin' dolly and trapping me in her toybox." she grumbled without opening her eyes.

 "Oh, I'm so sorry, Soggy-Bottom. Now, let's see about getting that diaper of yours changed before you leak."

She switched to a stiff robotic voice, over-enunciating each syllable of her usual refrain. "By the way, are you aware that you're far too old to still be wetting your diapers in your sleep?"

 Baby Dolly snorted. "That a fact? Damn, how embarrassing."

 "Uh-huh." continued Mrs. Sugartits, rolling her eyes and twirling a finger around her ear as she rattled off her pre-ordained message in her silly imitation of a robotic voice. "A woman your age should have been potty trained a long time ago. It's really quite an embarrassment for you to still be stuck in baby diapers."

 Baby Dolly rolled her eyes, and twirled her finger as well, as though delivering the countersign to a secret message. "Oh, for real? Darn it, I knew there was something I was supposed to do this week. Guess you have your work cut out for you, don't ya, Sugartits?"

 The two shared a half-hearted chuckle as Mrs. Sugartits grabbed the diaper bag and got to work changing Baby Dolly. Even in the most absurd of circumstances, it was reassuring to have someone to commiserate with. They were just two fellow prisoners, both forced the play the absurd roles their Mistress had given them. Although one was definitely having more fun than the other. Mrs. Sugartits unconsciously began humming to herself as she cracked open the tapes of Baby Dolly's nighttime diaper.

 "So...anything new happening today?" asked Baby Dolly, as Mrs. Sugartits lifted her legs by the ankles and began carefully wiping her most private regions. She didn't sound very hopeful.

 The older woman considered. "Well, maybe. Mistress said that we would be getting a cat at some point...oh, and that she would be sending someone around to spank me. She didn't say exactly when, but it might be today."

 "Spank you? Oh. Well that...kinda sucks." said Baby Dolly. Then, she seemed to reconsider. "I mean...I assume it does?"

 Mrs. Sugartits carefully positioned a fresh Forever Diaper under Baby Dolly's bottom and lowered her onto it. She shrugged. "Well, it isn't my place to question Mistress, Dribble-Butt. If she decides that I need to have a punishment, then I do. I just wish I could get my spanking and have it over with. I hate having it hanging over my head all the time."

 "Yeah, I can see that. Always better to just to have it over with."

 She pressed the final tape into place with a resounding crackle, then admired her handiwork. Despite everything, the sight of Baby Dolly blushing on the changing mat in a freshly-changed diaper immediately lifted her mood. "Alright, you're all set Pamper-Packer."

 "Great. Can I watch more TV now? I mean, it's boring as shit but at least it takes my mind off being stuck in diapers."

 "In a moment, Tinkle-Bell. First we need to get you dressed for the day and feed you your bottle."

 "Oh, gawd."

 Mrs. Sugartits added the "Bedwetter Extraordinaire" shirt to the laundry pile and pulled a pinkish-orange top down over Baby Dolly. This one came down only to a few inches above Baby Dolly's belly button and was decorated with a white silk kerchief that laid across her shoulders and upper back and tied in the front, making it look a bit like a sailor suit. The large image of a ripe peach across the front was clearly intended to look like a butt.

 "Well, at least there's nothing written on this one." muttered Baby Dolly ruefully.

 "Uh, there's also a hat that goes with it." explained Mrs. Sugartits. She unfolded the white sailor cap with a matching peach motif. "Mommy's Little Peach", it proclaimed in looping cursive.

 Baby Dolly winced and sighed dramatically. "Do I have to wear the damn hat, too?"

 Mrs. Sugartits nodded. She tried to look apologetic, but couldn't quite keep the smile off her face. "It's part of the outfit, and I have to dress you in the outfit. Sorry, Diaper-Butt."

 Baby Dolly crossed her arms over her chest and huffed as Mrs. Sugartits fitted the cap on her head, carefully adjusting it to a slightly rakish angle. Once finished, she had to cover her mouth to stop herself from squealing out loud. Baby Dolly looked absolutely adorable.

 "Tell you what." grumbled Baby Dolly. "We'll trade. You can wear this fucking bullshit, and I'll get my butt spanked."

 Mrs. Sugartits giggled at that. "That's very noble of you, Baby Bootie, but if we asked Mistress, she'd probably just punish both of us. I don't think we should give her any ideas if we don't have to. Ready for your special balloon pants, Cutie-Patootie?"

 "Do you have to fucking call them that?" spat Baby Dolly, blushing.

 Mrs. Sugartits felt torn. She really liked the look of discomfort on Baby Dolly's face whenever the topic of her "special balloon pants" came up. "Sorry, Super-Pooper. I guess we could call them...waddle pants?"

 Baby Dolly sighed. "Just put them on me. You don't need to tell me about it. It's not like I have a choice anyway."

 Mrs. Sugartits nodded sympathetically. She decided to allow Baby Dolly what little space she could still grant, and lapsed into silence while she worked.

 She stood Baby Dolly up, and the younger woman waited patiently while the hateful rubber garment was pulled into place and gently inflated. Mrs. Sugartits wondered what someone would think if they walked into the room and saw her on her knees, blowing into a younger woman's rear as her panties slowly swelled. She then sat Baby Dolly back on the couch and turned on an episode of Blue's Clues while she prepared a bottle of baby formula. Baby Dolly accepted her all-liquid breakfast with no more resistance than an eye roll.

When she had finished her "meal", Mrs. Sugartits dutifully presented her with her right breast. which Baby Dolly also accepted with only a token complaint, although it was clear that she was moistly just irritated to have her view of the television blocked. Mrs. Sugartits sighed in elation, clearly enjoying herself immensely, while Baby Dolly merely stared boredly ahead as her lips worked away at the nipple.

 A small knock landed on the front door, barely audible over the sounds from the TV show. Baby Dolly detached herself with a wet pop.

 There was another knock, a little louder this time.

 "Are you going to get that?" whispered Baby Dolly.

 "I have to." Mrs. Sugartits whispered back, still not moving toward the door.

 "Do you think it's the, uh..." began Baby Dolly, but there was no need to complete the thought. They were both aware of who or what it might be.

 The knock repeated, slightly louder.

 Mrs. Sugartits swallowed hard. She slipped her breast back behind her apron in a largely futile attempt to make herself presentable. Her only consolation was the certainty that her Mistress would never bother knocking. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and opened the door.

 On the front step stood a petite woman in her early twenties. She had fearful eyes, full of confusion. Her short, black hair was tied into a small ponytail. She was wearing a green button-up shirt, sensible khaki shorts, and a brown apron, as though she had been working the counter at a coffeeshop of some kind. Her nametag read "Samira".

 "Hello? Can I help you?" asked Mrs. Sugartits, cautiously. The woman certainly didn't look very imposing. If anything, she looked lost and frightened. Still, given what her Mistress was capable of, there was no knowing what someone sent to punish her with a bare-bottomed spanking might look like. The woman glanced up and down the street nervously before answering.

 "Meow?" asked the young woman, sheepishly. It wasn't even an imitation of a cat. She just said the word "meow" in a small, fearful voice.

 "Oh, thank goodness!" said Mrs. Sugartits, before she could stop herself. She was so relieved that this was not her spanking, she had forgotten that the person on her doorstep was another of her Mistress' poor prisoners, pulled unexpectedly from her normal life and doomed to a humiliating new existence as one of Samantha's obedient playthings. Still, Mrs. Sugartits knew her job. She was to treat this woman as a her Mistress had ordered. She stepped back from door and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together invitingly.

 "Come on in, kitty! There's a good kitty! Huggy-Pants, the cat is here!"

 "Meow?" The woman asked again, eyes still on the edge of panic. Slowly, reluctantly, she stepped forward into the house. Mrs. Sugartits dutifully pulled her into a hug and gave her a smooch on the forehead.

 "Heyyy." called Baby Dolly lazily from the couch. "Welcome to the house of madness! What's your name, fellow inmate?"

 "M-Meow?" asked the woman again, more desperately this time. Then, her knees seemed to buckle under her. She dropped down to all fours.

 "Meow! Meow? Mew meow meooow?" Samira's panic rose, her eyes darted wildly about the room.

 "Ah. Samira. That's a nice name. Can't talk, huh? Oh well, make yourself at home, I guess." said Baby Dolly carelessly.

 Samira raised her wrist to her face and ran her tongue across it. Her eyes widened, clearly surprised at what she had just done. Then, she licked herself again, more slowly this time, as though savoring the sensation. "Meow?" She asked in disbelief.

 Mrs. Sugartits reached down and gently stroked Samira's head. "Oooh, it's a kitty! Who's a good little kitty? Is it you?" She spoke in the saccharine tone one used when addressing a cute animal. Samira gasped in surprise and stretched her back out under Mrs. Sugartits' hand. She smiled widely and breathed heavily. "Mee...Meooow!"

 "Wow. Somebody sure likes being petted." observed Baby Dolly, as though there were any doubt.

The woman turned her confused face toward Mrs. Sugartits, as though trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Slowly, she maneuvered herself around, shut her eyes, and rubbed her cheek against Mrs. Sugartits' bare leg.

"Oooh, what a good kitty!" said Mrs.Sugartits, continuing to stroke the woman's shiny black hair. "Come on, let's get the kitty out of her people clothes. Widdle kitties don't wear people clothes, no they dooon't!"

Baby Dolly rolled her eyes. "And I suppose this new little schtick of yours is yet more of our illustrious Mistress' instructions?"

Mrs. Sugartits nodded confirmation as she got to work relieving the house's new resident of her work uniform. Samira fidgeted and let out the occasional hiss and rawr as she was stripped naked, but it seemed less like a woman being stripped against her will and more like a cat upset at being handled by a human.

 "Yep, fraid so. Gotta treat the kitty like a wittle kitty! Yesh I do!" said Mrs. Sugartits. Once her clothing had been removed, Samira seemed to calm down again, looking around the room with feline curiosity. Mrs. Sugartits fitted the now-naked woman with a pair of pink cat-ears, then grabbed a Forever Diaper for her.

"A cat who wears diapers?" asked Baby Dolly. "Seriously?"

Yes, I don't think Mistress wanted to have a litter box in her toybox." explained Mrs. Sugartits. "Now, hold still kitty! Kitty? Hold still, now."

Diapering the woman-turned-cat was easier said than done. She kicked her legs and swatted at Mrs. Sugartits with her fingertips as she tried to position the diaper under her.

"Oh, come on, kitty! Don't be difficult." cooed Mrs. Sugartits as the naked woman thrashed about.

"Try rubbing her belly." suggested Baby Dolly. "Cats love that shit."

Sure enough, once Mrs. Sugartits began rubbing her belly, the feline woman calmed down and allowed herself to be diapered with hardly any fuss. She let out a satisfied noise that might have been a purr. It was tricky to get the diaper on and rub the woman's belly simultaneously, but Mrs. Sugartits persevered. To her surprise, she didn't enjoy diapering the cat nearly as much as she did Baby Dolly. She guessed that Mistress had not commanded her to enjoy it, so it was simply another chore to her. A few minutes later, Samira the cat was crawling around the carpet in her new diaper, which she made no attempt to remove. She stretched out her back and stuck her padded rear in the air, purring contentedly.

"Well, that's the cat diapered." said Mrs. Sugartits, smiling at the absurdity of what she had just said. She pulled aside her apron and freed her breast once again. "Shall we pick up where we left off, Soggy-Butt?"

Baby Dolly rolled her eyes. "Not like I have a choice. See what I have to deal with around here, Samira?"

In a scene that would repeat itself several times a day for weeks to come, Baby Dolly noisily sucked Mrs. Sugartits' breasts, as Samira the cat silently watched the two of them. Mrs. Sugartits moaned in blissful contentment, Baby Dolly stared straight ahead in total disinterest, and the cat stared at the two of them, head tilted to the side in utter bafflement.

With that, Samira the cat became just another member of the household. Mrs. Sugartits set up an area for her in the corner of the living room. She had her bed, her scratching post, and her food and water dishes, along with a modest collection of toys to play with. A green stuffed mouse that squeaked when squeezed seemed to be her particular favorite. Although her face often betrayed her confusion and sheer disbelief at the behaviors she was now compelled to act out, she gradually seemed to adapt to her new role as a diapered housepet. She would occasionally crawl up to Mrs. Sugartits or Baby Dolly in search of attention, head pets, and belly rubs (which were seldom denied). She was quite affectionate as housecats go, and seemed to take a shine to her two fellow toys, often rubbing herself against Mrs. Sugartits' leg as she did her chores or curling up beside Baby Dolly as she watched her cartoons.

She clearly was less enamored with being in diapers. When she wet or messed herself, she would whine and hiss until Mrs. Sugartits could change her, although a belly rub never failed to lift her spirits. She subsisted on bowlfuls of the dry catfood that Mistress had provided her with, just as Baby Dolly was now required to live on formula (although Mrs. Sugartits was sure to occasionally share bits of her own meals and snacks with both of them, having received no specific instructions to the contrary), Sometimes she would spend hours staring out a window, seeming lost in thoughts that she could no longer express. Most of the time, however, she divided her time between wandering the house aimlessly, batting her toys back and forth, picking distractedly at her scratching post (or occasionally the other furniture), and taking plenty of naps (in a sunbeam if it could be in any way arranged).

A few days passed, and the household began to settle into a routine. Mrs. Sugartits got used to having two diaper-wearing toys to change, as well as two women who both needed to be bathed and scrubbed on a regular basis. Despite the extra workload, Mrs. Sugartits soon found that she had difficulty filling out her day. She often found herself watching babyish cartoons alongside her two charges (watching anything more suitable to their actual ages was obviously impossible). She soon gave up trying to make the lines she had to repeat to Baby Dolly any less embarrassing for her, since she seemed less and less bothered by them as time went on. The constant reminders that she ought to be embarrassed to still be messing her diapers and getting her bottom wiped at her age simply faded into the background. They were merely the noises that Mrs. Sugartits made, just like the cat who seemed incapable of saying anything except "Meow".