The Seven Deadly Sins

Chapter 2
Greed

“Oh, and don’t forget to check Gabrielle before you put her to bed,” Mrs Jones as she put on her coat and opened the front door. “I swear, she always widdles right as I’m tucking her in!”

“Yes, Mrs Jones,” Nevaeh chirped, doing her best impression of a polite, dependable babysitter. “Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of plenty of sweet girls like Gabrielle before.” It was a total lie, of course. She’d never babysat for a special needs person before. She’d never even babysat an actual child, at least not for longer than she needed to grab the valuables and move on to the next town. And she had absolutely no intention of changing some adult toddler’s pissy nappy. She fought hard to keep a look of revulsion from passing over her face.

Mrs Jones beamed at her. “Then I’ll see you when I get back. Feel free to help yourself to anything from the fridge.”

“Thank you, Mrs Jones. Enjoy your dinner at the restaurant!”

Once the front door had closed, Nevaeh’s cheerful smile vanished from her face. Stupid woman, she thought. She turned around and headed back to the living room where Gabrielle was sitting in her playpen. It was generally best not to act right away, just in case the parents came back to get something they’d forgotten.

She couldn’t help but stare at the overgrown baby woman. Gabrielle must have been in her early twenties, no older than Nevaeh was herself, and it was almost unnerving to see her sitting in a toddler’s playpen wearing nothing but a thick disposable diaper, with her blonde hair in pigtails and her bare breasts on display. Her tits weren’t nearly as large as Neveah’s own (she’d always been proud of her ability to make any guy do whatever she wanted just by bending down and flashing her cleavage), but she still felt it was wrong for her mother to let her toddle about the house with anything to cover them up. She shook her head impatiently. What did she care about this stupid oversized infant’s dignity? It wasn’t as though Gabrielle had any modesty anymore, not since the accident her mother had talked about.

Nevaeh squatted down next to the baby woman while she shook her rattle and babbled nonsensically behind her dummy, and ran her fingers through the girl’s hair. She’d expected to see a great big scar across her head or something, but there didn’t seem to be anything visible. Gabrielle would have looked like a normal, particularly pretty young woman if it wasn’t for what she was wearing, and for the vacant, dim-witted expression on her face.

“Poor little freak,” Nevaeh cooed as Gabrielle looked up at her and grinned stupidly around her pacifier. Her chin was slick with drool. “I think I’d rather die than end up as a big, pants-filling baby like you. You might have to be alone for a bit, diaper butt, but don’t worry, I’m sure your Mummy will be back to take care of you soon. And by that time, I’ll be long gone, along with all your Mummy’s jewellery. Yes I will! Yes I will!”

Gabrielle giggled at her sweet, syrupy tone and bounced up and down happily on her padded bottom.

Nevaeh laughed. “You’d be cute if you didn’t look so ridiculous,” she said. Then she suddenly became aware of something. There was faint music filling the room. She looked around, trying to locate the source. Had that always been playing, or had it only just started? It was soft and tinkling, like a nursery rhyme. Maybe Mrs Jones had put it on earlier to keep Gabrielle calm. To help keep her sweet and happy. Nevaeh realised she was nodding along with her own thoughts. Sweet and happy, that was right. That made sense. She certainly felt sweet and happy. It was like the music was working its way inside her head, filling it up with cotton candy. Nevaeh grinned. She liked cotton candy.

Gabrielle grinned back at her, and Nevaeh felt something stir in the back of her mind. Was this right? Should she be getting all sweet and happy because of music that was meant for the baby? But then, the baby was the same age as her. And wasn’t that funny? Wasn’t that so silly? A baby in her twenties. Neveah’s hand crept up to her mouth, and she bit the nail of her thumb. Because there was something a little scary about that too, the thought of being a big baby, using her pants as a potty, having her boobies out all the time. Her thumb slipped between her lips and she sucked on it nervously. She didn’t want to end up like that. She was a big girl, not a silly baby. The music continued to play, soft and lilting.

Nevaeh didn’t even hear it when the front door opened and closed a few minutes later. Her head was full of cotton candy. But when Mrs Jones walked into the room, she turned around, still sucking her thumb vacantly, and smiled dimly around her soggy digit.

Mrs Jones laughed. “That’s better,” she said. “You’re much sweeter now, aren’t you baby? Such a silly thing. Didn’t you think I might be watching and listening on a nanny cam?” She pointed at the fluffy teddy bear sitting in the corner of the playpen.

Nevaeh just giggled at Mummy’s happy tone.

Mrs Jones chuckled along with her, and got to work stripping the would-be-thief’s clothes off her voluptuous body. “I’m betting that no one knows you’re here, do they sweetheart?” she asked and she slid Neveah’s jeans down her legs and pulled off her shoes and socks. “Since you were planning on pulling off a little heist.” She lifted the girl’s shirt up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties. “Is Nevaeh even your real name?” she asked teasingly. Then she shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s your name now. ‘Cause you’re Mummy’s little angel, aren’t you baby? Heaven sent.” She reached out and tickled Nevaeh’s exposed tummy, making the girl shriek with laughter. “Coochie-coochie-coo! I’d just been wishing that Gabrielle could have a sister, and now another naughty little girl’s fallen right into my hands, just perfect to turn into an adorable baby.”

Mrs Jones tugged Neveah’s underwear down her legs and threw them to one side with a smirk. They were a little black lacy number. Hopefully the girl had enjoyed wearing her last ever pair of panties, she thought, as she fished out one of Gabrielle’s adult-sized Pampers from a box in the corner.

“Stand still for Mummy, Nevaeh,” she cooed as she slipped the bulky diaper between the grown woman’s legs and started taping it into place. “I’m lucky you haven’t made wee-wees yet. When I used the special music on Gabrielle, she went tinkle all over the floor before I could get her nappy on!” Mrs Jones patted the front of Neveah’s nappy when she’d finished and stood back to admire her handiwork, savouring the sight of the thick baby pants pushing apart the gorgeous young woman’s thighs. There was something so satisfying about reducing a grown woman to this, taking a naughty lady and turning her into a sweet, happy baby. Neveah just giggled down at the huge nappy wrapped around her bottom and shifted from foot to foot, enjoying the crinkling sound.

“Let’s get that bra off you too, pumpkin,” Mrs Jones said, reaching around to unhook the lacy lingerie containing Nevaeh’s generous breasts and allowing them to spill out freely. She tittered at the sight of the girl’s melons wobbling on her chest. “My goodness,” she laughed, “what big boobies you have, baby! I can tell you’re going to be very popular when Mummy takes you to the park. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure nobody gets too close. No more icky boys for you, little one!”

Neveah babbled nonsensically as Mrs Jones pulled her into a big hug. A moment later, the girl’s bladder released, and a rush of warmth flooded her pants. Mrs Jones just chuckled as the faint sound of hissing reached her, and when the strong smell of pee reached her nose a second after. She slipped a hand down to Neveah’s now sopping wet nappy and squeezed the front. “That’s a good girl,” she crooned, with the hint of a taunt in her voice. “Just a little pants-filler, aren’t you baby? Isn’t that what you called my Gabrielle? But I suppose you’re right. She’s always wetting and messing herself! And now you’ll be just the same.” She planted a big kiss on the side of Nevaeh’s head. “Mummy’s special baby for the rest of your days. Aren’t you a lucky girl?”