Lana:

I think I was still sniffing when those two returned. Trisha kept telling me nothing bad would happen to me but something bad had already happened. I was no longer free. I couldn't believe her while strapped to a bed and gagged. As she said that, Zoey started removing my clothes but not so they could ever be worn again. She was slitting them with scissors!

Trisha remarked, “She is a very thin girl once the baggy t-shirt dress came off. Why, she barely needed a bra.”

Then cut my panties off and I cried again. Were they going to violate me? It is every girl's worst nightmare. Your mother and father warn you about going with strangers but I've lost my mother and father to that wretched war.

Trisha commented again, “Look, Zoey, she is a true blond.”

Zoey unfolded the pink piece of plastic beside me, where I could fully see what she was doing. I think it was for my benefit that she wanted me to see it, slowly and deliberately. She didn't say a word as she handled the oversized diaper.

I was naked, my clothes in rags around me so when prompted, I lifted my bottom and Zoey slipped the diaper under me. Trisha went out of the room for a minute at most. Zoey turned me on my side and stroked my hair before rubbing some kind of thick cream on my bum.

“This will help clean you out of all the nasty food you've been eating,” said Trisha when she returned.

What nasty food? She fed us pizza, for goodness’ sake. Surely, if I had the gag removed, I could reason with them. Make them understand I wouldn't tell anyone if they would take us back to the refugee camp. We didn't want any trouble.

Trisha handed something to Zoey. She showed it to me but it meant nothing until she spread my bottom and shoved it up my rear. I was too shocked to fight her and she had pushed it deep into my bottom before I could protest. Zoey rolled me back onto my back and taped the diaper on me. What kind of sick game was this woman playing?

Trisha gave me a speech about how this diaper would hold anything and everything. I could accept it or fight it but it would happen either way. She suggested I relax and get some rest before things started happening.

The maid and Trisha left the room and turned out the light. I was all alone, diapered and tied up like a prisoner of war. She said she would check on me in an hour. Did that mean I had an hour before whatever she did to me started happening? The coolness of the thing they stuck inside of me wasn't noticeable now. I had nothing to do but wait and pray.

Thankfully, it was not too cool in the room. I tried to calm my breathing. I closed my eyes and took a deeper breath. That helped but I was still tied to a bed with a diaper on me with no way to even yell for help. I could only hope this was a bad dream and I was still in the refugee camp.