Game Night at Baby Beatrice's (Illustrated)

“… so he said, no, I’m walking the dog!” Martha finished. Everyone except Beatrice laughed, as much from how bad the joke was as anything else.

“That’s gross,” Emma said, sticking out her tongue. “Who knew you had such a raunchy sense of humor?”

“Please, that is the corniest-” Beatrice started to say.

“Tell me it’s the funniest joke you’ve ever heard,” Martha smirked.

“It’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard,” Beatrice replied.

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought.” Martha reached out with her hand, placing it on Beatrice’s thigh. “Little babies shouldn’t-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

All eyes turned to the penthouse door.

“Er…” Beatrice raised an eyebrow. “Did you invite someone else?”

“No.” Martha looked to her other friends. “Anyone?”

A round of shrugs and shaken heads followed.

The door knocked again, and this time, a voice called. “It’s Brian!”

“Brian…” Beatrice frowned, then her eyes widened. “Shit.”


“I told him I was having game night with some friends,” Beatrice whispered, looking down at her pink top. “Er… crap. I may have accidentally invited him.”

“You what?” Martha raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Well, not today, but a while ago I told him he was welcome any time- I didn’t mean literally!” Beatrice squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to think.

Martha didn’t panic, she just calmly rose to her feet and strode to the closet, taking out two plain shirts and tossing one to Beatrice, to cover her top. “Emma, can you answer the door? Just… come up with an excuse to get rid of him.”

Emma got to her feet, waiting just a moment so that Martha could sit down, concealing her fishnet leggings beneath the table and so that Martha could put on the top. At a glance, they’d just look like some normal friends, sitting around a table, having a nice evening.

Opening the door, Emma smiled. “Hello!”

“Hello!” Brian replied, holding up a stack of cardboard game boxes and grinning. “I hope you didn’t wait on my account!” Before Emma could say anything else, he stepped right through the door, beaming.

“I… come on in, I guess?” Emma said.

“Beatrice!” Brian said, waltzing over to the table and setting down the boxes. Pulling out a chair for himself, he took a seat across from them. “It’s great to have a chance to spend some time together outside of the office.”

“Yeah, er…” Beatrice tried to smile, pleasantly, but didn’t know what else to say.

Fortunately, Damian came in with the idle banter. “You work together?”

“Different departments, but yes,” Brian explained. “I’m the head over at market research.”

“What markets, exactly?”

While Brian was occupied by the idle talk, Beatrice took out her phone, blushing slightly as she sent Martha a text. ‘Green.’

Martha took out her phone, read it, and blinked, typing back. ‘Are you sure? This is more dangerous than what we did at the office.’

Beatrice already had her response typed and ready to go. ‘I trust you.’

Nodding, Martha texted the group chat. ‘Sorry about this. Can we play along for a little bit before coming up with an excuse to make him leave?’

Brian didn’t seem to notice as everyone else surreptitiously checked their phones, nodding subtly or shooting back a message of agreement.

“… so, I guess you weren’t already playing a game?” Brian asked, glancing around the table.

“We were, actually,” Martha cut in, before anyone else could say ‘no’.

Brian frowned. “Did you just pack it up, or…?”

“We were playing Werewolf,” Martha explained. “Do you know the rules?”

“Yeah! I’ve played it before,” Brian said, nodding.

Peter pursed his lips and glanced at Martha, so she quickly added, “Well, we’ll just go over them anyways to make sure we’re all clear. The moderator - that’s me - will have everyone shut their eyes, then pick one person to be the werewolf, and one person to be the doctor. Then, I’ll narrate as night falls, and tell the werewolf to open their eyes. While everyone else keeps their eyes shut, the werewolf points at their victim, and then closes their eyes. Then, the doctor does the same, and picks one person to protect. Then, everyone will open their eyes. I’ll announce who got attacked, and then I’ll say if the doctor was able to save them. Then, the whole table gets to vote on one person to be killed. The game ends when either it’s just two people left, or when the werewolf gets eliminated.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Brian said, while Peter breathed a sigh of relief. “Should we just get started?”

“Sure. Everyone, close your eyes.” Martha grinned, waiting for the whole table to obey before she leaned over to Beatrice, squeezing the front of her diaper and then slipping a hand inside, teasing her gently. Beatrice almost gasped, covering her mouth and resisting the temptation to make a sound.

Reaching out with her other hand, Martha tapped Peter on the shoulder and mouthed, ‘Werewolf’. Then, out loud, she said, “The werewolf has been chosen.” Leaning over again, she added in a whisper, “While their eyes are closed, you will suck your thumb.”

Beatrice obeyed, while Martha got touched Damian’s arm, got his attention, and said, “The doctor’s been chosen. Night has fallen, and it’s time for the werewolf to pick their victim.”

When Peter opened his eyes, he first smirked, then pointed over at Emma.

Martha continued teasing Beatrice beneath her diaper, running her fingers gently up and down between her sex, while out loud she said, “Alright. Now, the medic will pick someone to save.”

Damian opened his eyes and pointed at Peter, raising an amused eyebrow over at Beatrice.

Nodding, Martha pulled her hand away, waited for Beatrice to remove her thumb from her mouth, and then announced to the room, “Morning arrives, you can all open your eyes.”

“I know who the werewolf is,” Brian said, immediately.

“I haven’t even said who was killed yet,” Martha said. “No speculation; for all you know, you could be dead.”

“Right, sorry. So who’s dead?”

Martha gave a sheepish grin across the table. “Sorry, Emma.”

“There, okay, I’m not dead. It’s Beatrice,” Brian said, immediately.

“Wait, what?” Peter frowned. “Why her?”

“I heard her make a sound when Martha picked who the werewolf was,” Brian explained.

Everyone else at the table shared a glance, and then Damian said, “Okay, well, that means it’s Peter.”

“Wait, what?” Peter squeaked. “How- I mean, uh…”

“I vote Peter, too,” Beatrice added.

“Well I’m voting for Beatrice,” Peter said.

Brian frowned. “Why Peter?”

“I know it’s not me, I know it’s not you, and I know it’s not Beatrice,” Damian said. “Trust me.”

“… I still think it’s Beatrice,” Brain said, oblivious to the reasoning that Damian was working on. “So I’m voting for her.”

“Then, it’s a tie,” Martha declared. “You all bicker and fail to reach a conclusion, then all go back to sleep. Close your eyes again.”

Everyone obeyed, and Martha leaned back into Beatrice’s ear. “Touch yourself for me.”

Beatrice turned pink, but obeyed, feeling herself beneath her diaper while Martha went through narrating the rest of the game. Beatrice had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from making any noises that would give away what she was doing.

Peter chose her to kill, and Damian protected her, and then Martha instructed Beatrice to stop. She did, extracting her hand.

“You all wake up,” Martha declared. “In the night, the werewolf tried to attack someone, but they were saved by the doctor.”

“It’s definitely Beatrice,” Brian insisted. “It has to be!”

“I’m absolutely certain it’s not,” Damian said back. “Because I’m the doctor, and I protected her. I’m voting for Peter.”

“No you’re not! I’m the doctor!” Peter lied.

“So it’s Damian,” Brian guessed. “And he’s trying to trick us. I’ll vote for him.”

“I’m voting Damian,” Peter said.

“Don’t look at me, I’m dead,” Emma added.

All eyes turned to Beatrice. “Er… I guess I’ll vote for Peter? I don’t think it’s Damian.”

“Then it’s another tie, nobody’s killed, and everyone goes to sleep again,” Martha said. Once they closed her eyes, she leaned over one last time and whispered, “Cum for me.”

Biting her lip, Beatrice swallowed and tried desperately to keep silent as she obeyed the instructions, fingering herself while Martha pretended nothing at all was going on and continued narrating the game.

It was an effort of will to keep totally silent. Beatrice took Martha’s hand and squeezed it tightly as pleasure washed over her body, riding out the orgasm with desperate intensity.

Martha smiled, waited a moment for Beatrice to recover herself, and then said, “Alright, everyone can open their eyes.”

As preoccupied as she’d been, Beatrice hadn’t paid any attention to the game at all. When Brian asked, “Who died?” She almost didn’t realize what he was talking about.

“You, unfortunately,” Martha said. “You were murdered in the night.”

“So it’s Peter, ” Damian insisted. “Obviously.”

“Um…” Beatrice said, dazed and having trouble following the game. “Yeah, sure.”

“That’s right,” Martha said. “You’ve found out the werewolf, and won!”

“Damn!” Brian said, snapping his fingers. “You played me on that one, I’ll admit. Again?”

“Eh, I guess-” Martha started to say. Before she could finish speaking, Brian’s phone chirped. “You should probably answer that.”

Brian frowned, took out his phone, and glanced at the caller ID. “Weird, it’s work.” Putting the receiver to his ear, he said, “Hello? Yes. Yeah, okay. I’ll be right in.”

He hung up, and Martha asked, “Something wrong?”

“I guess there’s an urgent security issue at work, needs my attention,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you!” Emma said. “Here, let me walk you out.”

Brian frowned, and started to say, “I could stay a few more minutes-”

“Don’t want to keep your job waiting,” Damian said, getting up. “Best get a move on.”

He pursed his lips, but Brian ultimately didn’t argue. “Good to see you. We’ll have to do this again some time!”

“Uh… uh-huh,” Beatrice said, nodding. “Sure, of course.”

Emma walked him out the door, and Martha leaned over to give Beatrice a kiss. “Good girl.”

“Lucky,” Peter added, “That he had to leave.”

“I called in a favor with Brian’s assistant,” Martha explained. “Asked him to come up with an excuse to get Brian over there.”

“Good thinking,” Damian said.

“Now,” Martha said, reaching down to squeeze the front of Beatrice’s soggy diaper. “Go get your changing supplies, my dear, and take off that silly shirt. I think you’ve spent enough time pretending to be a big girl for one night.”

Illustration by Princess Molly:

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