You know there's no way you can win here; you're totally trapped in this high chair, and there's nothing you can do. Still, you are just not ready to submit willingly to this kind of treatment. So, you keep your mouth closed tight.
"Tsk, tsk," Bethany says, her tone growing harsh, "Fine, if that's the way baby wants to be! I didn't want to have to do this, but..."
With that, she reaches over and grabs your nose, cutting off your air. 'oh no!' you think. Still, you try to keep your mouth shut as long as you can. Finally though, after a moment, your baby-sized lungs can't hold out any longer, and you are forced to open your mouth. Bethany takes this opportunity to shove the spoonful of baby food right in your mouth. She then holds it firmly in place, waiting for you to swallow.
"Come on, Baby!" She says, sternly, "You swallow your food, THIS MINUTE!"
Knowing you can't win, you reluctantly force yourself to swallow, knowing that at least that will get the disgusting mush off your tongue and out of your mouth.
Even the after taste is horrible, and she soon goes for another spoonful. After a long, hard battle, in which much of the baby food is now all down your chin, neck, and the front of your bib, you have finished the entire jar of baby food.
"See," she cooes, patting you on the head, "that wasn't so bad, was it? Mommy WAS going to give you a bottle of juice to wash it down, but naughty, disobedient baby's don't get to have such things," she scolds, making you frown.
As she begins taking you out of the high chair, you come to a startling realization, feeling the wet, warmth in the front of your diaper; you've wet yourself during your feeding, without even knowing it!"
"Beth!" You wine, "I wet my diaper!"
She just looks at you, sternly, and shoves your pacifier back in.
"Well that's just too bad! Maybe I'll change Baby in a little while. Besides, since you keep being naughty, maybe sitting in a wet diaper for awhile, will teach baby to behave!"
You begin to whimper behind your pacifier, fighting back the tears that you feel coming on.
"Now then," she says, practically ignoring you, "I think it's time for Mr. Pissy Pants to take a nap."
She carries you into her room, and sets you in what appears to be a dog's bed, covered in a mosquito net.
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