The pen wasn't anchored to anything, so it moved around the room freely, or as freely as was possibly given that the hogtied girl inching across the carpet was the engine providing its moment.  Despite this glaring disadvantage, Kim had been busy.  Despite being strictly hogtied with tape, she had manged to roll herself against the side of the playpen, edging it agonizingly slowly towards the wall, to the point where she was finally able to move it no farther.  

From there, with the firm support of the wall, she began then agonizing task of climbing to her knees.  No easy task given that her thighs and ankles were firmly taped together, but such inconveniences meant little to the determination that Kim had been building up.

It took many, far more attempts than Kim could bear to keep track of, to figure out that she had to inch up the wall perpendicular to the unyielding surface, bending herself in a position the ropes didn't want to allow and she would have previously though her body incapable of before she finally found herself, panting around the restrictive knotted cleave gag tied in between her teeth, leaning against the wall with he shoulder and side of her face as she scooted her bound body underneath her.  Perilously leaning backwards because her wrists still connected securely to her wrists, she almost toppled backwards, but she managed to keep her balance, perched precariously on her knees, unable to spread  her legs to offer change in center of balance she so desired.  

Desired, but not needed.  It took only a few attempts, especially when compared to her earlier trials she had endured just getting herself righted, but Kim managed to find her balance on her knees, independent of the support of the wall.  Despite the tape attempting to join her legs into a single limb, she had just enough freedom to inch one knee I front of the other, gathering a slow but steady motion toward a side of the playpen no adjoining a wall.

Balanced on her knees as well, the top of the playpen came to just below Kim's naked breasts.  She settled her heaving mammaries on the PVC top barrier of her prison, and then tossed what little momentum she could over the side.  Instead of toppling face first of the side as she had envisioned this procedure going, she leaned slightly over the side, before her weight pulled her back down into the playpen, ending with her resting uncomfortably on the bottoms of her breasts.

Kim growled into her gag, trying the same maneuver, with exactly the same results, only this time her breasts were even less happy to be briefly supporting her weight.

She paused to catch her breath, leaning on the edge of the playpen for support while she sucked in air through her nose.  She took the moment to contemplate her next move.  She'd been so focused on escaping the playpen that she hadn't really thought about what to do from there.  There was still the vast expanse, something like 30 feet between her and the door that she would have to agonizingly drag her almost naked body across before she even reached the door.  Then the door itself.  Even if she could get herself back up into a kneeling position once at the door, with her wrists still tied to her ankles, she could hope to reach to the doorknob and open it.  And that just left the fact that she was still tightly hogtied with tape, her fists securely encased in more of the sticky adhesive wrap, sporting a tight knotted cleave gag pulled between her lips and a diaper taped snugly around her waist.

She was fucked.

She grunted a sigh of frustration into her gag, and then once more set about trying to tip her body over the side of the playpen



It occurred to Angela that she should have hired a driver, one of the fancy chauffeurs with the suit and the hat and a sign to pick up Sasha from the airport.  How cool would that have been, but it was a bit late for that.  Still, she felt pretty great, driving to the airport in the red convertible mustang she had taken from her sister's garage, dressed in her sister's strapless purple dress, wearing a sexy pair of fuck me heels.  Armed with her sister's driver's license and wallet in one of Kim's designer bags, she was looking forward to her first outing literally in her sister's shoes.

This was going to work, she reassured herself.  An idea born out of pure desperation from someone with nothing to lose was slowing starting to pan out.  Bringing Sasha on board just seemed to make all the little flaws with her plan go away.  It wasn't simply that the part time dominatrix could control Kim, and get prompt information for the captive even when Angela was out pretending to be her, though that in itself was huge.  Just having someone on her side in all this, a friend, a confidant, someone who knew who she really was.  

Added bonus, Sasha was fun.  It was a very small list of people Angela Knew who would probably be okay with the fact that she had kidnapped her own sister and was keeping her a bound, gagged and diapered prisoner in her own home, however justified Angela might have felt herself, but Sasha most likely wouldn't even give a damn why Angela was doing it.  A chance to lavish in a posh house in L.A., while dominating and controlling another woman, and getting paid to do it, was more than enough for Sasha.

“Well hey there, Blondie.”  Angela had missed Sasha getting off the plane, and Sasha had recognized her despite her new hair style and clothes.  “Looking snazzy.”

Sasha herself was stunning as usual.  Towering over Angela even in her sister's heels, Sasha stood at 5'10'' in her sensible flats, a pair of skinny jeans that hung to her hips and fabulous ass, a simple tank top straining against her d-cup breasts, her long dark brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

“Welcome to L.A.” Sasha said, giving the amazon a quick hug before taking one of her suitcases.

“Thanks for flying me out.  No one had really heard from you since your mom died.  Sorry to hear about that by the way.”

“Oh no worries,” Angela reassured her.  “The funeral was mostly her old friends.  I didn't ask or want anyone to come.  In the end, it lead me here, so it's all good.”

“And what exactly is here for you Cros?  All sorts of blonde, sexy dress, even sexier heels, thousand dollar purse, and money to pay me to come out here for some mysterious job?”

“You'll see,” Angela said with a grin.

The car only further sparked Sasha's curiosity, but Angela kept her mouth shut.  It was less about the surprise factor at this point, and more the fact that explaining it without being able to show Sasha what it was all for.  The dress and shoes and the car were compelling, but only to a point.  But to see her sister, who sought out the comfort of diapers and regression to escape her life, that was the justification for what Angela was doing.  It was wasted on Kim, and it was just as much Angela's as it was Kim's by birthright.

“You're out here shooting porn.”  Sasha's guesses since they had gotten in the car had been all over the map.

“What?” Angela asked incredulously.

“You came out here to L.A. After your mom died, but when you had no money, you jumped at the first sleazy dude who found you in a coffee shop telling you you could be a model, and now you're pumping out ten films a week living with your “producer,” still telling yourself this is a stepping stone to something bigger.”

Angela shot her a look which quickly had Sasha throwing her head back with laughter.  “Fuck no.”

“Fine, not a porn star.”  Sasha pondered thoughtfully before posing her next guess.  “Oh shit,” she blurted, eyes lighting up.  “You found your dad.”

“What?  No.  What?” Angela blurted, flustered.

“You are the worst liar.”  That statement stung her a little, because that observation shined a glaring light on her long term plans.  “Just stopping guessing.  You're ruining my surprise,” she pouted.

“Fine, I'll be patient.”  Sasha sat back, crossing her arms across her chest.



Kim paused, panting for breath around her gag.  She had awkwardly managed to negotiate getting her hogtied body over the side of the playpen, and was now faced with the painful task of inching her body across the floor to the door.  She wiggled her hips, trying to ease her diaper back up into position.  As much as she didn't like being forced into it, right now it was protecting her crotch from the rug burn the rest of her upper body, especially her breasts, were being subjected to in the long trek across the floor.  She'd wet herself a little bit when she'd finally managed to topple over the side of the playpen, and while the relief had been great, she resisted the urge to release even more into it's thirsty padding, knowing that a saggy diaper was far more likely to have trouble staying on as she wriggled across the carpet to her destination.

Kim still hadn't deduced a plan for once she reached the door.  She hoped it wasn't her imagination or her body just becoming accustomed to the stringent hogtie, but it felt like the tape was loosening, or stretching, or some combination of the two, over the course of her struggles for freedom.  She hoped that this trend would continue, and by the time she finally reached the door, she could reassess the situation with her hogtie.  No sense and just staying put and hoping that she was right about the fact that her bonds were loosening, she told herself as she resumed the slow shuffle across the floor on her stomach.  Besides, the sweat she had going on from her exertions could only being helping her situation.



“Holy shit, your dad is super rich,” Sasha said in awe as Angela pulled the Mustang into the driveway, giving Sasha her first glimpse of the house.  

“Fine, it was my dad's,” Angela relented.  “But for now, it's all mine.”

“I thought you never met your dad?”

“I didn't, still haven't.  He's dead too.”

Angela pulled into the six car garage.  Sasha was too in awe to offer her condolences at learning her friend was now a confirmed orphan.  “Found out about him once my old lady bit it.  She couldn't even tell me about him on her death bed.  I had to track him down myself once I got ahold of all of her old stuff.”

“And he left this to you?  I mean, no offense, but you shouldn't have had to track him down yourself.  With all this money, you'd think he could have found you a long time ago.”

“You're telling me,” Angela sympathized, opening the door and turning off the alarm.  “But he wasn't looking for me.”

“Dads...”  Sasha shook her head, following Angela inside, only to stop, stunned all over again by the luxurious home laid out before her.  “Well, you've got it now Cros.  Live it up.”

“I plan to.  That's where you come in though.”

Sasha cocked her head at her, a confused look on her face.

“Upstairs.  Better if I show you.”

“He's got a whole second family doesn't he?”  Sasha was starting to put some of the pieces together.  “He's got another kid.  You said babysitting on the phone, and I while I appreciate the money, that's really not my thing.”

Angela laughed, both at how right and how wrong Sasha was.  “Just come upstairs.”



Kim's struggles had reached a new level of desperation as she heard the garage door.  A logical part of her mind told her that it was too late if her captor had already returned to the house, presumably with the babysitter she had mentioned before leaving, but she was so close.  She had abandoned her destination of the door, instead opting for the changing table.  She was certain that the tape holding her bond legs to her wrists was definitely looser, and the leg of the table seemed the best choice of instruments available to help her finish the job.  She had managed to drag herself up to it, before rolling on her side with her back the leg of the table, pulling the tape containing her hogtie taut against the wooden leg.  From there it was just a desperate attempt to saw at the tape with what little up and down movement she could muster in her bound position.  

She had no way of seeing if she was making any progress, but it certainly felt like she had more slack in her bonds.  The faint ripping noise of duct tape tearing sparked a new level of vigor.  She was almost there!

She was so invested in her achievement that she didn't hear the door to the nursery open.  It wasn't until she heard a female voice, one she hadn't heard before, utter a long, slow, “Holy fuck.”

Kim craned her neck up to see her sister standing in the door, behind her a taller woman she had never seen before.

Sasha stared open mouthed at Kim, then looked back at the identical Angela, now rocking the shorter blonde hair that matched the bound girl on the floor, and back to Kim.  She took in the girl's eyes, wide above her gag, he naked chest and stomach and thighs red with carpet burn, and what appeared to be a diaper riding low on her hips.  A quick glance around the room, decorated as an adult sized nursery, confirmed the garment on the girl on the floor to be in fact a diaper.

“Sasha, this is my twin sister, Kim.  Kimmie, this is your new babysitter, Sasha.” Angela introduced the two stunned parties.

“Crosley,” Sasha said, unable to take her eyes off of Kim.  “Words fail me.”

“Mmmpgh,” Kim added.

Ignoring both of them, Angela knelt before her sister.  She examined the rugburn on Kim's torso before rolling her back onto her tender front to examine her bonds.  “See. This is why you need a babysitter.  I leave you for a few hours and you get out of your pen and get yourself all scratched up.”

Kim moaned, lying complacently in her bonds as her captor examined the efforts of her escape attempt.  The tape holding her in a hogtie was stretched and there was rip that wasn't quite halfway through.  Angela easily finished the job tearing the tape apart.  Kim moaned, both in relief that her legs were finally allowed to stretch out, and at hearing just how close she was to freeing herself from the tortuous hogtie.

“I feel like I need an explanation,” Sasha said, joining Angela as she rolled Kim back over, so the captive and soon to be babysitter were once again staring eye to eye.  Kim's eyes were full of panic and defeat.  Sasha's eyes held confusion and, a hint of something else.  Something that terrified Kim even more.  There was a predatory look in Sasha's eyes as she looked down at the helpless and humiliated girl before her.

“Our parents split up when we were babies, each taking one of us,” Angela explained, helping Kim up into a sitting position against the leg of the changing table.  The helpless girl squealed and blushed as she felt her sister slide a finger through the leg of her diaper, finding she was wet.

“I figured it out after my mom died, and came here, to find her living the life that could have just as easily been mine.  So for the next few weeks, I'm gonna pretend to be her, and you're going to stay here and make sure she doesn't ruin it for me.”

It was a very abbreviated explanation, but Sasha seemed more curious about the particulars of her specific job.  “And this?” she said, gesturing to the pink and floral wall papered room, complete with its large infantile furniture, not to mention the diapered girl sitting restrained on the floor.

“Oh, the nursery, that was all her.  Apparently her life as a rich little heiress is so stressful she likes to spend her downtime regressing or some such bullshit.  The whole nursery was here when I got here.  It just seemed fitting that she should spend her time her, instead of locked up in the basement while I'm enjoying her life.”

Kim found herself staring into the newcomer's eyes again.  She hoped she had been mistaken about the look she had seen in Sasha's eyes.  She whimpered pitifully into her gag, trying to plead with her eyes.  This newcomer couldn't be buying into her sister's crazy plans.  

“This is absolutely nuts,” Sasha started.  Kim's eyes beamed with hoped, and Angela looked at her friend, frowning.  “I've done a lot of crazy things, but I never thought I'd be able to put babysitter on my resume.”

Kim's eyes widened, and she protested furiously into her gag.  This couldn't be happening to her.  

“Help me get her up onto the table.  She needs a change.”  Sasha knelt and helped Angela pull Kim to the feet, and hoist the struggling girl up onto the table and onto her back.

Sasha examined the tape binding Kim's legs.  “Do you have anything besides duct tape?”

“No, but I haven't really looked.  There's probably some rope in the garage or in a closet somewhere,” Angela responded, holding Kim's torso down while Sasha unwound the tape binding her legs.

“This'll have to do for now.  Later, I'll need some cash and a car, I'll go find a sex shop.  They'll have what I need to keep her preoccupied.”

Kim began to thrash, sobbing and crying.  She couldn't believe her ears.

“Anything you need.”  Angela easily held her struggling sister in place as Sasha finished untaping her legs.  The dominatrix easily wrangled up Kim's legs as she tried to kick wildly at her newest captor, holding them securely under one arm as she pressed her other hand down onto Kim's diapered crotch, pinning her fast to the table.  Kim made a few more attempts to wriggle free before laying still, struggling for breath through her nose as she glared up at her “babysitter”.

“From this point forward, I am Mistress Sasha to you,” She said the the prone girl pinned underneath her.  Her voice had dropped an octave; it was ice cold, assertive, commanding.  Even if Kim had the freedom of her voice, there was no arguing with that tone.  “Your sister needs you out of her way, and has entrusted me with you keeping you out of her way.  If you try to resist, I will show you pain so great you'll wish you were dead.  On the other hand, if you cooperate, I can also show you pleasure like you've never experienced before.  But at the end of the day, until your sister says otherwise, I own you.  I will control every aspect of your life.”

Kim sobbed, tears, streaming from her eyes as she whimpered nonsense through her thick cleave gag.  She didn't struggle or kick as her legs were released, and Sasha's hand pinning her pelvis to the table was lifted, moving to the tapes holding her diaper on.

She prayed it was just a bad dream, and she'd wake up, safe in her own bed, wearing her regular PJ's, no diaper.  It would be horrible, but as she woke up, the nightmare would start to fade, and soon she wouldn't even remember any of it.

But as she felt her diaper undone and opened, exposing her crotch her new mistress, she didn't wake up.  She was already awake, and no amount of time could pass that would allow her to forget the nightmare she was currently living.