This was Kim's nightmare. No, this was a whole conglomeration of all of her worst nightmares. Her shameful, secret hobby, discovered by a lunatic who had taken her hostage in her own home. Oh, and the lunatic was apparently her twin sister, bent on stealing her life.
“Looks like we found where you're going to be spending the next few weeks. I didn't really think it through, and after that little mishap in the foyer, if I'm being perfectly honest, I probably would've ended up leaving you tied to a toilet most of the time. How shitty would that be?” Angela hustled her sister into the nursery, taking greater stock of the room. She was slightly awestruck. She was no stranger to bizarre fetishes; one of her best friends back home had been a professional dominatrix. While this particular fetish wasn't her cup of tea, that wasn't it.
“The rich even do pervy better than the rest of the world,” she mused, realizing that's what struck her as so odd. She pushed Kim towards the playpen, and the helpless girl tripped over the side of the pen and toppled into the pen, a giant stuff tiger breaking her fall. She wiggled herself onto her back so she could watch as Angela took stock of her private sanctum.
The crib was about the size of a twin size bed. The bars were about three feet high, with one side that dropped down to the floor. There was no top, so it wouldn't really serve as a good cage for her captive, but she could always just tie her sister to the bars. A mobile with little cartoon birds hung above the crib. Finding the switch, Angela didn't know what she had been expected, but she was still just stunned to hear the rhythm of nursery rhymes as she mobile gently began to rotate above the crib.
“Fuckin' nuts,” she breather, turning the mobile off and moving on. The changing table was again scaled up for an adult. A Diaper Genie sat on the floor next to it. Angela had recalled seeing one of those on a baby shower registry once. The thing had been ridiculously expensive for what was basically a glorified trash can.
She checked the drawers, finding wipes, talcum powder, lotions and ointment, baby formula and some bottles, a bunch of pacifiers, and a few pairs of plastic panties. “So this isn't even sexual for you? Or do you keep your vibe somewhere else?” Angela asked, noting the lack of toys she was really expecting to find.
Kim blushed from where she was struggling in the pen. She had gotten into a position where she could have stood up using the way behind her, and from the she could maybe hop over the pen, but even that would was iffy, and with her thighs and arms still bound, she knew she wouldn't get far. So as her sister rifled through her stuff, she worked desperately to free her wrists, rubbing the tape on the carpet.
Angela discovered the closet, filled with frilly, childish dresses, sleepers and onesies.
There was also a wooden high chair in the corner by the door, also sized for an adult, and an old school wooden rocking horse. And then of course the main attraction, the diapers themselves. There were a few packages of attends she had seen in stores, but most looked like they were custom adult sized baby diapers, with childish prints on them.
“This might not be as bad for you as I thought,” Angela said, turning her attention back to her squirming sibling. “I had thought the next couple of weeks would really suck for you, but looks like you'll just be taking a forced staycation here in your nursery while I see what it feels like to be you. Hell, you might even be grateful.”
Kim shook her head furiously as Angela pulled her to her feet and helped her out of the pen. Kim balked and dug her heels in as her sister started dragging her towards the changing table. It did her no good, and soon Angela had Kim on her back on the changing table.
“Struggle all you want, but it's happening either way, you might as well enjoy it.” Angela removed her sister's shoes first, thinking to herself she was going to enjoy her sister's shoe collection. The skirt followed, Angela unzipping it and pulling it off her sister's hips and down her legs, revealing her soiled white satin panties. “You ruined some nice underwear there sis.”
Kim blushed, squirming on the table. She'd had plenty of fantasies about someone coming to play mommy or daddy while she was in little mode, but nothing like this. She strained against the the tape binding her wrists, finally feeling some give in its sticky, constricting embrace.
Angela unwound the tape from Kim's thighs, and then hooked her fingers around the waistband of the panties, peeling the damp garment down her sister's legs. Kim's blush deepened, her neck craned to watch, unable to tear her eyes away from what was going on.
The panties joined her skirt and shoes on the floor, leaving Kim naked from the waist down. “Good to see you don't have any tattoos or piercings I'd have to replicate,” Angela commented, taking in her sister's naked, bald pussy. She would have to shave her own landing strip, but that wasn't a big deal. She traced her fingers across the smooth flesh, eliciting a whimper from her sister. “Let's get you cleaned up.”
Kim watched her sister grabbed one of her diapers, the wipes and some baby powder. She fought with the tape binding her wrists, knowing she was making headway but she knew she couldn't draw her sister's attention to what she was doing. She slowed her struggles as her sister began to wipe her down, cleaning up her legs first, the paying special attention to her crotch. Despite her predicament, Kim couldn't ignore the tingle that started in her nethers and slowly worked its way up her spine as Angela caressed her with the cool wipe.
“There, all nice and clean.” Angela unfolded the diaper, spreading it between Kim's legs. “Lift your butt,” she ordered, helping Kim raise her ass off the table so the diaper could be slid under her.
The shift in position was exactly what Kim needed to get some leverage on her bound wrists. The tape was stretched to the point where she could roll her right wrist out of her bonds. As she settled back down, this time on the soft cushion of the diaper, she trapped Angela between her widespread legs. She pulled herself up, Angela too stunned by the sudden resistance to do much other than try and wriggle free of the legs pinning her arms to her sides. Kim's own arms were still awkwardly held behind her at the elbow by the tape encircling her torso, but she had enough mobility to grab the baby powder sitting on the edge of the table. Angela had just backed herself out from between Kim's leg's when Kim opened the top of the baby powder and hurled it at her abductor.
“Oh, you fucking cunt!” Angela screamed. The powder had exploded in her face, getting in her eyes and blinding her. It stung like a bitch. It was all in her mouth, her nose, disorienting her and causing her to gag.
Kim didn't waste the opportunity, rolling off of the table and onto her feet, making a beeline for the door. Her phone. She had to get to her phone. It should still be in her purse, which she had left by the front door when Angela had tied her up. She bounced off the wall as she burst into the hall, stumbling, but she kept her balance, and turned, running for the stairs.
Angela rubbed at her eyes furiously, coughing and spitting. She heard the sound of her sister's bare feet slapping on the hardwood of the hall, and knew she had to stop her. She blinked rapidly, finding she could see, albeit blurry and painful. She staggered into the hall after her sister.
Her mouth still taped, Kim was finding it hard to breath as she approached the stairs. She tried to reach up to pull the tape off of her mouth, but found it was just out of reach. Without stopping, she'd have to remain gagged. Nostrils flaring as she breathed hard through her nose, she started down the spiral staircase, her sister hot on her heels.
Angela realized for the first time that revealing the gun was just a painted water pistol was a terrible idea. She'd lost almost all of her authority in that stupid prank, and revealed to her sister that she had no intention of killing her. Assuming she was lucky enough to catch her, Angela would have to be a lot more careful with her from now on.
But luck had very little to do with it. Disoriented as she may have been from the baby powder to the face, she was unbound, not gagged, wearing tennis shoes, and at the end of the day, in better shape than her sister. Kim had a decent lead when she hit the bottom of the stairs, but as she reached the foyer into the garage, Angela was right behind her.
Kim dove for her purse on the floor, grunting in pain as she slid across the tile. She grasped awkwardly at her purse, then rolling over so she'd have an easier time dealing with it if it was behind her. It was the right idea, but it took too much time, and Angela was on top of her.
Angela snatched the purse up. She held it up over her sister triumphantly. “I respect the effort sis, but you're going to pay for this little stunt.”
Not ready to surrender just yet, Kim kicked out viciously, her bare foot connecting with Angela's shin. She brought her other foot in a sweeping arc that knocked Angela's legs out from under her, and she joined her sister on the floor.
Not even bothering to try and get her purse back, Kim rolled up, straining to reach her tape gag, ignoring the pain as she ripped the adhesive strips from her lips. “HELP!” She started screaming as soon as her mouth was free, bracing herself against the wall and pushing herself back up to her feet. She again started running, this time for the back door as Angela was between her and and garage door, screaming her head off as she did so.
Angela struggled to her feet as well, rubbing her head where she had bumped it on the floor when she fell, silently cursing herself again for revealing it was a god damn fake gun. Angry at the turn of events, she threw the purse at her fleeing sister. The bag connected squarely in Kim's back. It wasn't all that heavy, but it was enough to make Kim stumble, giving Angela the time she needed. She closed the distance, making a flying tackled that took Kim, still screaming like a banshee, to the floor. Kim's head connected with hard tile floor with a crack, and she went silent.
“Oh fuck, please don't be dead,” Kim whispered, panting as she got off of the prone form below her, rolling her sister over. She was relieved to see her sister still breathing, just knocked out cold from the impact. But she wasn't out of the woods yet. Kim's neighbor's were all a good distance away from the house, but she couldn't take the chance that someone had heard Kim's cries. Some concerned neighbor could stop by, or god forbid, call the cops to come investigate. She supposed she could just start pretending to be Kim and talk her way out of it, say the TV was on too loud. But that left Kim herself. Who knew when she'd wake up, and getting her restrained and back upstairs to the nursery was going to be a pain in the ass whether she was awake or unconscious.
“Alright, first thing's first,” she said to herself, weighing her priorities. Getting Kim out of the way and restrained had to come first. She couldn't afford another escape attempt. She set about trying to pick up her unconscious sister. It was more difficult than she'd expected, and she understood for the first time the expression “dead weight.” Angela finally managed to get Kim up and over her shoulder, and began carrying her to the stairs.
“You definitely could stand to lose a few pounds,” Angela said sarcastically, grunting as she shifted her sister for better purchase. “Though maybe not from that booty you got going on,” she commented, her hand gripping Kim's shapely ass.
*Ding Dong*
“Oh shit.” The god damn doorbell. Angela staggered over to a couch and roughly deposited her sister on it. She grabbed a blanket, dragging it over the unconscious girl. She started for the door, preparing her story in her head, and praying it wasn't the cops. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror as she made her way to the front door. She was still covered in baby powder!
Her mind immediately went to her hoodie, but she remembered it was still covered in piss on the floor. She rushed back to Kim, pulling the blanket off, meaning to take her shirt. But there were still the two bands of tape above and below Kim's breasts to deal with before she could even start to get it off.
*Ding Dong*
“Fuck it.” She yanked off her shirt, wiping her face and hair as best as she could with the shirt before dropping it on Kim, and covering her back up with the blanket. She stepped out of her shoes as she walked to the front door.
*Ding Dong*
The bell rang a third time just as Angela reached the door, opening it reveal a middle aged man standing on the front stoop, looking more than a bit agitated.
“I'm so sorry, is this about the TV?” Angela asked, doing her best “just woke up” voice. The man blushed, seeing the disheveled young woman in just jeans and her bra.
“Uh, oh, yeah, it's John, John MacArthur, your neighbor.”
“Yeah, John, I know who you are.” That was a freebie, Angela thought.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I just, thought I heard screaming coming from your house, just wanted to make sure you were, you know, OK.”
Angela laughed. “I'm so sorry. I was watching some horror movie, fell asleep, I rolled over on the remote and jacked the volume up. If you thought it was loud out here, imagine being woken up to that from in there.” She gave her best disarming smile, thrusting her chest out ever so slightly.
He'd been fighting the urge stare at her chest since she'd opened the door, a battle he was losing. “That must have been quite startling. So you like horror movies? Cause you know, I'm quite the horror aficionado myself.” He noticeably puffed up, standing up a straight.
“Why John MacArthur, are you flirting with me?” she teased. “What would your wife think?” she asked, noticing a wedding band on his hand.
He turned beat red. “What, no,” he stammered.
“I'm just giving you a hard time. My own fault, not putting on a shirt before I answer the door.”
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“I appreciate your concern. As you can see, everything is fine. But if you'll excuse me, it's been a long week, and I can hear the couch calling me back. Thanks again John.”
“Good seeing you Kim,” he said.
She shut the door, watching him turn and head back towards the driveway. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, but at the same time couldn't deny a surge of pleasure wash over her.
“Fooled you, you fat old perv!” she hissed, throwing her hands up. But her celebration would have to wait. The real Kim could wake up at any time.