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Story and Art Forum
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By windycityheat · Posted
Shout out to Lake County, home of Six Flags & NorthShore diapers -
anyway. I'd wish I've read New Start first. I think it would be way more fun if you don't know what's Gabby up tp. -
Getting rid of these as they no longer fit. I have 5 little for big nappies and 2 abena abriform nappies. All XL. Just £3 postage, can send to your address or an inpost locker. -
I'm surprised and pleased that he wants what they want. But I'm also confused that at 22 he would agree with this set up. I realize he was in a forster home for quit awhile and he lost his mom at a young age. I don't remember from the beginning if you mentioned his physical status like how tall is he. What does he weigh what color hair eyes he has. I wonder how they will treat him as a baby. Will he be wearing diapers will she really treat him as a baby all the way. Can't wait to read more. If I was younger I would agree to be their baby. 🙂 -
By cute little kokiri girl · Posted
She arched her back upward and pushed against the heavy branch, but it would not move. She was pinned. Scully shifted slightly forward and jerked her fingers back from the hard surface. Confused she reached out again and made contact. It was rough like the window frame. She traced her fingers back and reached under. She felt more wood. It crisscrossed in a familiar pattern. It was a chair! Scully grimaced as she painfully contorted her left arm behind her and along her body. On her left side approximately ten inches away she found a smooth fabric. She pushed against it. Underneath the fabric was hard and irregular. Numbed by her ordeal she arranged the pieces of the puzzle, but they formed no picture. Again, she pushed up. This time she used the small leverage from her hand braced on the floor. Scully tried to bring her left arm around, but the throbbing pain prohibited the action. Now her left arm was pinned too. She attempted to wriggle forward again. She dug her fingers into the floor, but they found no hold. The rock music pounded. Screaming for help was not an option. Scully rested. In a moment she would try again. Stiffly she craned her neck left and right but there was only darkness. She concentrated to suppress her rising panic. She was trapped. She had been trapped before and always remained calm. "Why was this different?" she asked. The threat of her abductor's return and the image of her current exposed position churned her emotions. She reminded herself the ruffled party dress was not hers, but his. She was weak and tired and felt small in the darkness. She was alone. Suddenly the room sprung to life and danced to a strange medley of demented laughter, fog, and colored lights. Scully gasped as a red gelled lamp pulsed to full strength directly in front of her. She quickly closed her eyes, but it was too late. She was temporarily blinded. The room was modest in size but appeared larger due to the mirrors framed in pink and green spaced and hung at various angles around the room. The new lights illuminated the room but provided little information amidst the chaos. Scully squinted past the red spots that impaired her eyesight. She lifted her head toward a mirror. A pink light swept past, and Scully caught a brief vision of herself. She was in the Clown Room. A skewed nightmare nursery in which the center piece was a huge maniacal clown. Scully had landed precisely over his exaggerated lap! The clown was ten feet tall and seated in a gigantic chair a few feet from the high window through which she had jumped. Encouraged by the vibration beneath her she increased her efforts to escape. She glanced at the mirrors again for reference. The dancing-colored lights revealed her tiny frame trapped over the clown's lap. The arm she had originally perceived as a branch of life now held her firmly in place. The vibration increased and the intricate metal skeleton sheathed in colorful satin groaned. Scully heard the hiss of hydraulics and tried to turn sideways. Weak she slumped back into her original groove. The hissing increased. Scully pushed up as far as possible and tilted toward a different mirror. The reflection cackled back with a horrifying image. The clowns' right arm had moved upward. Scully peered past the fog and watched as the comical white glove descended toward her bare bottom! Whap! Scully's cry was more a release than an expression of pain. The clown's hand was heavy, but the impact was mild. The action of the hydraulics in his arm did not generate a tremendous force. However, the oversized gloved hand was made of padded leather and stung as it repeated it's movement. The hydraulics hissed again. Whap! "Owwwww!" Scully cried. Unavoidably she looked into the mirror. The lights swept over the nightmarish scene. The giant grimacing clown laughed and hissed as it spanked Agent Dana Scully. Whap! The fact Scully was dressed as a little girl only enhanced the illusion when viewed in the reflections. The clown appeared quite normal in size while Dana seemed small and girlish. It was as if the clown knew she had been naughty. He had waited by the window and pulled her over his spacious lap for a well-deserved spanking. His large white gloved hand almost completely covered Scully's bare bottom. The leather padding crashed again and elicited a loud yelp from Special Agent Dana Scully. WHAP! "YOOOOOOWWWWWW!" Scully wriggled forward to escape her spanking, but this action only offered a fresh target for the clown's glove. WHAP! The spankings were more frequent as the hydraulics geared up to their full speed. She searched the room for the absent actors. WHAP! She knew the clown was merely clapping his hands. Her leap had broken his left arm and pinned her while the right arm had been bent downward. WHAP! The clown laughed and Dana felt herself shrink. The spankings stung. WHAP! On the far side of the room additional lights swirled to attention. Laughter traveled across to Scully and in the mirror, she saw people. Fifteen feet from her was the path for the guests. There was a small railing that separated them as it guided them through the room. They would walk right by her. Relief washed over her but was interrupted by another blow. WHAP! Scully twisted and watched as they approached. Then an awful sight bombarded her. In the previously darkened mirror, she could now see her own reflection quite clearly. She wasn't wearing any panties! She was completely exposed! Her dress had ridden up even further. This gave anyone behind her a generous view of her reddening ass and smooth bare lips. WHAP! "Aaaaawww!" Scully cried. She could not help herself. The spanking hurt. Her humiliation compounded by the fully lit room. The dancing lights had stilled, and the pounding rock beat had faded dramatically to give way to a lyrical minor key nursery song. It was a haunting melody. The change in lighting gave Dana an unobstructed view of herself over the clown's lap. She looked like she was twelve. Her red locks pulled into a ponytail and fresh face devoid of any makeup only enhanced her new younger role. The dress even seemed smaller which in turn made Dana appear smaller. Normally, when bent over, her breasts would have been bountiful but under the prison of her dress she was flat chested. The dress had somehow contained and decreased her curves. SMACK! "Aaaaaoooowwww!" That one was hard, and Dana stifled back a sob. In the mirror she could see her bottom had taken on a reddish hue that matched her hair color. SMACK! Dana cried out again and felt a tiny tear run down her cheek. Unable to turn away Dana witnessed the worse part of all. Her bare pussy shaved and smooth as it wiggled over the clown's lap. Each spank on her taut backside caused her to writhe and kick. She was actually kicking her legs like a little girl! She could not shake the picture. The mirrors mocked her. They seemed to undo all that she had accomplished. Her steady rise through college, her choice to forego medical practice and join the FBI faded. Each spank from the laughing clown stripped away her identity. Through his laughter she heard him. "You are not an adult. Look at yourself. Your hair is in a ponytail. You are dressed as a little girl." Dana focused on the approaching crowd. Her emotions swirled. She was desperate to be saved yet mortified by her current state. SMACK! "Aaaauuuggghhh!" Scully was close to tears. "Where are your panties little Dana? You must deserve this spanking. You have no panties." SMACK! Uncontrollably Dana Scully cried out. "I'm not a little girl! Let me go!" "Yes, you are." SMACK! "I'll be good! Oooooowwwwww! No more! You can't do this!" The laughter from the group of teens was deafening but did little to console Dana as to a possible rescue. She cried out to them, but they only pointed and cheered. "Hey Colin, check this out!" "Man, look at her she's got no underwear." "I guess she's been really bad," one girl cracked. Oblivious they exited. The sensors clicked and the clown froze. Dana slumped; her body drained. Two more parades of visitors chuckled past her as the clown spanked and mocked her. Unable to combat the visions in her mind she argued with the clown. "I'm an adult!" she cried. SMACK! "Not anymore! Look at yourself, why you're getting younger." Another pad landed squarely on her red bare bottom. Dana's gaze remained transfixed on her reflection. Amazed she watched her form shrink on the clown's lap. "No! No! NO!" she kicked her legs. SMACK! The third group was a disinterested collection of college students. As they exited a girl tossed his cigarette onto the floor. It rolled in front of Dana. The click of the sensors sent the room back into darkness. The clown motionless continued to speak. "Cigarettes are bad. If you touch that you will get another spanking." She ignored him. The end of the cigarette still glowed. Dana blew and watched the burning tobacco brighten and roll toward the fog machine. It was a desperate choice. She huffed again. It contacted the exposed heated wire of the fog machine and ignited. The flames increased and overtook the curtained passage. Chaos erupted in minutes as security men rushed through the rooms with extinguishers. Crowds yelled and actors fled. Nervously Dana waited. She was still trapped, and the flames were migrating toward her. Finally, two men rescued her and in a flurry of activity she was escorted outside. The few police that remained at the attraction had ensured a quick response from the fire department. They were already on the scene battling the engulfed warehouse. The entire street was mayhem. Scully had to find Detective Ronson but in the frenzy of the departing crowds she was lost. Police were ordered to immediately detain all suspects. The fire was arson. They had captured the killer miles away but perhaps an accomplice was among the throngs of guests. Scully was caught in a group of teenagers and herded into a paddy wagon. She tried to reason with the officer that pushed her into the van but was only met with a blank stare. Dressed as she was, minus her ID and badge, it was difficult to take her seriously. It was short ride to the station. There she would assert her authority, relate her story, and reclaim her adult clothes. The killer was still alive and trapped in the burning building or he was nearby and could make his escape. Time was a factor. Scully eased her hot bare bottom onto the smooth cool metal bench of the van. She tried not to react but let out a quiet sigh. A few of her fellow passengers squinted at her. As they whirled onto Franklin street the van pitched and Scully slipped from the bench and toppled face forward onto the floor. The van exploded in laughter. She had just given this group of teenagers a generous view of her paddled behind. Eyes down she regained her place on the bench. "Someone's been bad," a teenager at the end commented. The van exploded again. The ordeal of night bubbled in her. "Shut up!" she replied childishly. "Or what? Little girl," he challenged. The words stung. Her emotions boiled over and in a blind rage she charged at the boy and struck him with her fists. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" she cried through tear-stained eyes. Two other boys and a girl pried her from her assault. "Hey! Hold on. Stop it," they shouted as they pulled her back onto the bench. "I'm fine. Get the hell off me!" The emotion in Scully's voice silenced the group. Scully held on the bench with both hands. It pitched a few times, but she did not fall. Instead, she slid into the teenage blonde girl that grabbed her earlier. "Sorry," Scully muttered. "It's okay. Wow you're a mess. Let me help you." The girl reached deep into her oversized bag and produced two wet wipes. Scully took them and cleaned her face and hands. "Thank you." The girl held out a hairbrush. The blonde teen motioned for Scully to turn around. "That's not necessary," Scully insisted. "Come on, you've like had a bad night, right?" Embarrassed by her earlier outburst Scully dutifully spun on the bench while the blonde girl brushed her hair. The girl freed her matted hair from the ponytail and brushed Scully's red locks. She pulled Scully's red hair into two ponytails and winked at the boy Scully had attacked. Scully hardly noticed and frankly did not care. The van rolled to a stop and the back doors opened. A booming voice addressed the chattering occupants. "Okay. Okay. Calm down! No one's being arrested. Just follow the officer inside and he'll take your statements and check your IDs." The group shuffled out of the paddy wagon. The blonde girl pushed past the other teenagers and leaned over to the officer. She whispered to him. He glanced at Scully and nodded. When Scully stepped onto the pavement another uniformed officer took her arm. "Hey! Officer, I'm Agent Scully of the FBI. I was heading up this operation. It is imperative that I speak to Detective Ronson immediately." She was amazed in her diluted state she was able to muster a convincing command to her voice. However, the policeman's expression did not change. His eyes moved over her then he pulled Scully inside past the chuckling blonde girl and her cohorts. His grip was tight. He dragged Scully to the elevators. The doors closed but he did not release her. She twisted. "Let go. I'm fine," Scully demanded. It was the kind of hold used on a suspect. A grip of control. Scully had been handled like this in the past by men in black suits, but this was different. Apart from his hold on her upper arm he did not seem to notice her. Normally a young officer would have paid close attention to her. She was an FBI agent and although she did not think of herself as glamorous, she was an attractive woman. Now this man did not to regard her at all. He looked at her with disinterest, like she was a real child.
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