Lindsey's Night Part 2

It was a nice house, clean and meticulously arranged, there was a little hutch with Lindsey's academic awards, photos of her two dad's and their daughter, Gina looked around madly for any way to escape her captor. Apparently "adult night" gave her hope of somehow standing up, walking on her two atrophied legs, and getting out because why wouldn't her hands be able to grab a door knob and turn it? No. She was sat in her stroller, naked, and in a messy diaper, because she couldn't do any of those lofty things, she was utterly dependent on the people around her. And right now "people around her" was Lindsey.

Gina was parked in the kitchen as Lindsey started humming a happy tune, setting Gina's bag on the table and looking into the fridge for something out of Gina's sight. Gina squirmed and wriggled in her stroller, tears welling up, she couldn't stop her body as it expressed the total terror playing out in her mind. Gina started to let out a tantrum. Feet kicked, pigtails flew wildly, straps held taut trapping Gina in her stroller as she threw her body the hardest it could to get out, snot ran down her screaming face, and hard nipples stuck out prompted by adrenaline.

Gina wasn't sure how long the fit lasted, eyes shut tight to avoid seeing the source of her fear, the fruitless fit fatigued her. Sniveling, she looked up. Lindsey just had her phone out, camera light on. "Poor baby Gigi, is she all cranky about her dirty diaper? You're going to give yourself colic doing that. I'm trying to get you some num nums sorted out for after changies. But I better get out the safety gear if you're going to be a fussybutt all night." Lindsey narrated.

Safety gear? That could mean anything but it certainly wouldn't be good. Not that Gina had any means of effectively protesting. She was helplessly dependent. Lindsey disappeared from view. Time was measured by the heartbeat Gina could feel through her ears.

Lindsey came back holding a tangle of straps and buckles.

"Can't exactly rely on a squirmy baby to stay in one place, and as I'm sure you saw my home is not baby proofed. I'm going to need to make sure you stay safe. That way I will do well on my homework, and you, Gina, will be happy to help." Lindsey said in a saccharine manner. She started to unbuckle Gina from the stroller, for Gina's part she did what she could to writhe and fight. But she was lucky to hold her head up. Who knows how much muscle mass she had lost since the dream describing her curse, not discounting the curse itself debilitating her.

She was taken to the floor. Straps cuffed her wrists, and ankles. They were attached Infront of her, leaving her on her back, messy diaper on full display. Lindsey brought down the diaper bag, and here in the kitchen, with her phone set up, she started changing Gina's diaper.

This was passé, Gina couldn't care less about using her diapers or being publically changed. Gina started crying because of something else. Next to the baby powder, Lindsey placed a canister of rice. That was sprinkled over her rear, encased inside her diaper. The strap connecting her wrists and ankles was undone. Lindsey flipped her into her stomach, and hogtied. Her front was stuck to the cold tile floor, rice now digging into her vulva.

"Now to be sure you don't overheat..." Lindsey said, brandishing shears. The frilled black dress was cut to ribbons, she pulled it out from under Gina, forcing her to roll over limbs and shift her hard rice contents again before being tit down on the tile. The fabric was thrown to a far corner.

"Now, I promised yummy din-dins. Nutritionally balanced for a growing baby, but with your size, I made a lot of it."

Putting diaper bag away, she scattered rice around the kitchen floor. Out of the fridge she took out a gallon sized ziplock bag of...beige, dotted with diced chunks of purple. Whatever the concoction was, there was an oily diffusion permeating the mixture.

"For fiber, oats and rice, for healthy gut, prunes, and to make sure to goes down, and our, easily, castor oil. A baby can only eat a few ounces, but at your size, I prepared 3 gallons. You are so very welcome." Lindsey cooed as if performing a great favor.

She set a dog bowl down and allowed the slop to ooze out of the bag. Lindsey grabbed Gina's arm and hair, pulling hard to lift her up enough to move to face the bowl, grains of hard rice trapped under tit and tummy.

The smell was foul. Gina turned her face away, only for Linsey to grab her hair. Pulling tight and hard to control where Gina could face.

"I know, healthy food can seem yucky, but I promise, you'll feel like a brand new person after this 'cleanse'." Lindsey sneered. Gina had no clue where it came from, but a plastic sand trowel was now in her face. "You will eat every drop. After all, I need to do well on this homework, and you will be happy to help."

Cold, oily, cooked oats were literally shoveled in, Lindsey made sure to shove Gina's face in, coating cheeks and chin with the chilled slime. Every pull on Gina's hair pressed her tits into the rice. Attempting to pull away just planted her vulva into more rice. She was miserable as mouthful after mouthful was shoveled. Tears mixed with slop. It was exhausting. Lindsey, satisfied with the amount in the bowl and covering Gina, let go of the air to let her lay in her filth.

"So yeah, Din dins is done. Gotta let the baby rest, she's so silly laying in all that rice, what a mess I'll have to deal with. Okay bye!" She said, chipper and peppy, as if ending a stream.

"Gawd, I am so mad that I can't make a stupid baby bitch like you write. The symmetry would have been perfect, but hey, you didn't feed me, I am feeding you, so points for inversions, and now you are hog tied on the rice. I'm going to go get something to eat, take a shower, maybe even masturbate, regardless, I'll be back to check on you...oh why don't we say one hour. No real reason for it, the number just sort of popped in my head."

Lindsey left.

Gina was miserable. Her belly was distended, rice was stuck to her skin, and her arms and legs were cramping in the position she was in. How could she have gone from being able to detain and **** a homework **** to now drooling on a tile kitchen floor, rice digging into her flesh. The sound of a door shutting at least told Gina that she was alone, but that isolation was cold comfort, after girl's weekend, it fully set in how alone she had always been. Was she just afraid of rejection and used fear to manipulate people into performative friendship?

This train of thought was interrupted, as her belly gurgled. Hot mess slid out of her bottom, slight relief from the rice, but the front wasn't altered that much, she still had rice digging into her clit, a clit that Susan and Cutie had given pleasure to, now so long ago, the sense memory just making these moments even worse.