Susan led us to the cot. We continued blabbering as if we were talking to each other as she helped us into the cot and lifted the side-rails. The fit was tight, but we were able to lay side by side with my left arm pressed against Steve’s right arm.
“We’ll be back in a minute,” our moms told us. While they were gone Susan started to tease us. “Who’s the widdle baby girls now? Did you use your didies yet? Having fun yet? Embarrass me by making me wet the bed. You don’t know what embarrassment is! Just wait!” Steve started to cry. I just gazed at her trying to understand why my mom would allow her to torment us.
Our mothers returned with bottles of formula. I grimaced at the prospect of yet another bottle, but it wasn’t so bad when I tasted that nice warm formula. As we suc-ked on our bottles Susan pulled a pink flannel blanket printed with little ducks over us. Our moms dawdled around the room as we drank our formula. We watched her through the bars of our cot. Steve’s mom placed a baby monitor on the dressing table beside the cot and switched it on. “Now you’ll probably wet yourself during the night, so just cry into this and someone come and change you.”
Steve stopped suc-king on the bottle when he realized that it was going to make him wet himself during the night. “Now, now”, his mom scolded, “you must finish your bottle” and she held it in his mouth until he started suc-king again very reluctantly. They waited until we had finished every drop and then took the bottle from us. Our mothers fetched our dummies and pushed into our mouths. Susan than tied the dummies in place by the attached ribbons which she wound tightly round our heads several times before tying them in a bow. “This will keep you quiet. Just remember to cry when you wet yourselves.” Susan reminded us. We both moaned a feeble “Mmmmmmm! Nmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmf!” into our dummies.
“Oh, yes, make sure you cry when you poo in your diapers. I’m sure you’ll be doing that tonight as well.” Steve’s mom laughed as she looked knowingly at my mom. That’s when I realized they added something to our bottles. She added, “We’re going out for a few hours. Susan will babysit and change you. Make sure to cry to let her know when you’ve done something in your diapers.” “Sweet dreams”, Susan whispered as they were leaving the room. Sweet dreams? This was more like a nightmare. She switched off the light and left the door slightly ajar.
I could see that it was still bright outside. There was also a nightlight plugged in at the corner of the room. I couldn’t get my mind off the implications of his predicament. Steve was crying softly while I just stared at the ceiling. It was getting uncomfortable with both of us in the cot together. I started to wiggle around to get comfortable which was matched by Steve. It was going to be a long night.
Susan was peeping in the door. When she saw us wiggling around, she came in. “Oh, can Babykins not sleep?” Steven glared at her. “Oh, you can’t get comfortable. I’ll help you.”
Susan commanded us to lay on our sides and face each other. She than took a length of cord and slips the first one through the D ring in my baby rein and attaches it to Steve’s baby rein. She pulls the two ends of the cord tautly together between us before tying it a very tight knot. Forcing us very closely together with our chests up against each other, the tips of our dummy gags touching. We unleash a torrent of outraged, helplessly girlish squeals through our dummies.
Steve, I want you to hug David and David, I want you to hug Steve. She then tied my hands together behind Steve’s back and his behind mine. She tied another rope to my bound hands and passed it between our legs. The other end was tied to Steve’s hands. She then set about binding my ankles very tightly together with the ribbons. She manipulates my ankles up and ties them to Steve’s hands and then does the same to Steve’s ankles only his are tied to my hands. We are effectively hogtied to each other. Straightening our legs would pull the others hands back which in turn would pull the ribbon between our legs forcing our diapers closer together. In one last cruel gesture, Susan passed a ribbon between the plastic loop of our dummies, tying them together as close as she could. All we could do is stare at each other in shock. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable night.
Susan looks at us bound, gagged, babified with a cruel, amused smile. "Have fun tonight, my darling little baby girls." she giggled as she added while leaving, “and you look so sweet together,” inspiring an angry squeal from her brother. “Like two sissy lovers.”
Steve started to struggle desperately, but the cords pulling us so intimately together, makes any real movement impossible. Instead, all we could do is whimper and squeal and struggle. The more we wiggled, the closer we were pulled together! As we wiggled, some new sensations begged for my attention as the rope between my legs caused our diaper covers to rub against each other. Amazingly, I was rock hard and ready once again to relieve the pressure that was building. I started rubbing the front of my diaper cover against Steve’s. It was kind of a feeble effort since I couldn't move much of anything, but it was enough. Steve felt the rubbing and started rubbing back by pulling down on his feet, thus moving the rope and increasing the tension at my crotch. As much as I wanted to escape this ultra-humiliating fate, I could not help but surrender to the pleasure. It took a little while longer than before, but finally I climaxed and sagged, exhausted.
Several minutes passed before Steve or I moved a muscle after I finished. I actually started getting sleepy when I felt a little gentle tugging at my wrists. Steve was attempting to do what I had done to bring myself to climax. The tugging at my wrists was gentle and hesitant at first. But Steve must have quickly decided he liked the feeling because the tugging at my wrists soon began in earnest. I tugged on the rope from my end, trying to match the swiftly developing rhythm of Steve’s humping. Our wide, sex filled eyes met It suddenly stopped and Steve let out a whimper.
I began to feel an irresistible urge to relieve myself. Somehow it became almost a point of honor not to wet myself, but I was fighting a losing battle. The pressure in my bladder steadily increased as time passed, and eventually I just had to let go. A warm flood poured out into my nappy and ran around my crotch, soon to turn my nappy into a wet, soggy lump around me, trapped within my plastic baby pants. Unable to do anything about it, I soon relaxed and drifted off to sleep for a few minutes.
I woke up to the sound of Steve quietly moaning as he lay in his cot, and I quickly began to realize why. I suddenly heard a gurgling sound coming from my bowels and felt a movement within. Something was happening. Steve began to moan and writhe against our restraints as the laxative our mothers put in our bottles began to take its effect on both of us. More and more frequently my bowel movements increased in frequency and intensity, and a grim determination not to let go overcame me. As the laxative worked towards its inevitable result, I squeezed my buttocks tightly together and began to squirm desperately within my restraints. I started to get stomach cramps, and another ugly suspicion started to grow. If someone didn't get back soon, I was going to do a lot more than just wet myself. I tried to call Susan to let me out, but all I could mumble through my dummy was 'Mmmmmm! Mmmmp! Mmmmmmf!
I squirmed in frustration. "Nnnnggghhhh!" I had to get Susan’s attention. "NNNNGGGGGHHHHH!" I groaned through my soother. I listened. Nothing. "NNNNGGGGGGHHHHH?.nnnnngggghhhh. ?..hhhhh". My groans petered out into a whimper. She wasn’t coming. Steve was also moaning and sobbing with a dreadful, agonizing embarrassment. Our sufferings were accompanied by the loud, cruel laughter of Susan, as she walked into the room.