Depends on how big of an ass you are.

The overly big bulb of Gina's pacifier kept her silent. Not that anything more coherent than "fumphinnich" had been possible in a long while. And Gina had been impressed at the ch sound she had managed. So she was stuck with just her thoughts, a prisoner of her body. Looking out the windows of Marcie's car, she saw clouds that looked like puffy diapers, buildings that resembled stacked blocks, a flock of birds flirting from a telephone line and singing out like a mobile from over her crib.

Lost in these infantile thoughts, it was a surprise when the car stopped. Gina had no idea how long the ride has been. Daydreaming, and in general, just "tuning out" had become a way to cope with her dependence. Gina could be a million miles away from the indignities she was suffering, but 24/7 baby exposure crept into her brain and warped her subconscious. Even in her own imagination she was getting the baby treatment.

Moved into her stroller, Marcie moved Gina inside. A modest house, Gina guessed, and now she was immodestly presented to Marcie's parents. Her dad watching a game, her mom on a laptop chatting with whoever. Gina had no means meaningfully interacting, so their activities were white noise. This was after all a precursor to a much worse night.

Gina was stuck in her stroller for most of the afternoon, Marcie feed her two bottles, and made token efforts of "watching the baby", a foot pushing Gina forwards and back as the adults had dinner. Then Marcie announced, "Okay, gotta give her a bath and put her down. Night ya'll."

The trip to the bathroom was both agonizingly long, and unmercifully short. With the door shut and water running, Marcie laid her plans bare.

"Fucking bitch of asshole mountain. The unbelievable amount of hell you have put me through. I have had colon surgeries because of all the food you have shoved up my ass. It's fitting you are stuck in diapers now, I couldn't go to sleep overs, shop for clothes with my friends, or anything, when I had to wear glorified pull ups during recovery." Marcie raved as she laid Gina out on the chilling bathroom tile, pulling tape after tape of Gina's used diaper. "You can bet your powdered ass that you are going to get ten fucking fold back."

Gina's eyes were saucers as Marcie's tirade continued through the wipe up. She let out a squeak as she was flipped on her stomach, nipples pinched and dragged on cold tile as slap after slap was rained down on her naked ass. Tears freely fell as the spanking stopped just before the tub had filled.

"I know it's a different house Baby G, you're okay!" Marcie said loudly, performative in case her parents might now hear Gina. Unceremoniously, Gina was hefted up and tipped into the bath. The water was freezing cold, and while that may have granted her burning hot ass a sliver of relief, the shock across the rest her body outweighed it.

A hard scrub followed, Gina fought for air as the pacifier persistently stayed stuck in her mouth and errant splashes would go over her nose. Hard nipples were twisted, an aching clit wanting sensual caresses was practically sand papered by a rough wash cloth, hair was pulled as a cruel means of leverage to hoist her back out of the tub and on hard, cold, tile.

Marcie barely toweled the wet heap that was Gina, as she excitedly dug under the bathroom sink. Pulling out an enema syringe, and some large jars of no-name nummy num baby food. Gina's ass was spread wide as the nozzle was pushed in. Tears streaked down her face as the unlubricated protuberance was stuck in. Gina felt her stomach grow warm, no doubt pissing on the floor, some corner of her mind praying that she wasn't going to go back in the bath despite being disgusted at her urine coated stomach.

That corner soon diminished as she felt pressure and fullness growing as the plunger was pressed in. Here was dinner. Payback for every candy bar shoved into the tubby victim's ass, come to roost in the worse possible way. The squelching noise as the plunger was retracted signalled the momentary pause before another jar was loaded and primed for pumping.