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Parker Longabaugh

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  1. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    I have to admit-- I knew Harley was popular, but I wasn’t expecting her to take over the story in quite the way that she has. For the sake of pacing (and to punch up the action a bit) I decided to briefly check in on Wonder Woman and company before getting back to Harley’s story... I know things have been a little slow up to this point, but the action starts really picking up from here on out. If you pledge $8 or more on Patreon, don't forget to click here to vote in the poll and help decide what happens next. Once again, thanks to everyone who's left comments and likes-- please keep them coming. Also, a new character is introduced in this chapter-- if you'd like me to post a profile like I did for the paddler, just let me know in the comments. Cuddled up in Wonder Woman’s arms, the Adult Baby that used to be Zatanna, Mistress of Magic, dozed, resting her cheek on the Amazon Princess’ shoulder sweetly. The events of the morning had been very trying for her, and she drifted in and out of sleep, gradually adjusting to her new lot in life. With Diana’s great strength, it was easy to support the overgrown toddler with only one arm beneath her padded rear end. Batgirl watched her comrade hefting a grown woman in a diaper casually, and Barbara couldn’t help thinking how much she looked just like a real mother handling her actual toddler. Barbara shifted and squirmed, unconsciously tugging on the waistband of her tights and running her hands over her heavily padded tushy. The diaper was bulky, crinkly, and hot, and Barbara’s butt and pussy were starting to get really sweaty. Worse, her stomach was still bubbling uncomfortably, and she found herself farting softly every couple of minutes-- quite embarrassing, but the diaper muffled most of the noise. At least her bowels seemed to have settled down a bit... for the moment, anyway. Nearby, Elizabeth-Ann Blaese, AKA Betsy Wetsy, observed the trio. They took no notice of her... and why would they? she thought with bratty self satisfaction. Even if they had seen her, all they’d see was another victim of Wolfe’s insane machinations-- just another pretty young woman transformed into an Adult Baby girl; an object of pity at best in her matching yellow bonnet and dress, her diaper (a little wet and squishy between her legs, she noticed with a blush) on full display. They would never suspect her secret until she struck... and by then, it would be too late for all of them. All she needed now was the boss’ go ahead... She’d been waiting patiently, keeping an eye on them from a distance, mostly resisting the urge to use her powers to cause a little general mischief, but... all this waiting is getting so boring, she thought, drumming her fingers against her bare thigh and sighing. Finally, the tedium got the better of her... she just had to do something to break up the monotony. Mr. Wolfe will never know, Betsy thought to herself, reaching out with her mind and grazing Big Baby Zatanna’s bladder ever so slightly... In Diana’s arms, the dozing Zatanna stirred a bit in her sleep, her bladder slackening, releasing a modest jet of pee into the fabric of the diaper that soaked it and turned it warm and yellow between her legs. Although it wasn’t much, Wonder Woman, with her enhanced senses, both heard and smelled the accident immediately. Sighing lightly, she reached around with her free hand and slipped her fingers into the leg hole of Zatanna’s onesie and diaper, finding it soaked. It wasn’t the only thing her enhanced senses detected... though Barbara’s bottom was wrapped up in a thick diaper, Diana was aware that she had been passing gas at regular intervals since she’d rejoined the group. “How’re you doing Batgirl?” she asked in an offhanded way, “do you need a diaper change yet?” Batgirl blushed and cringed, unconsciously tugging at the hem of her tights. “W-wha-what? No, uh, no thanks, Diana,” she said self consciously, glancing around to make sure nobody had heard. Giggling softly to herself, Betsy wiggled her fingers in Batgirls direction, nearly laughing out loud when she saw the change in the superheroine’s expression, her bladder involuntarily forcing a hot gush of pee into her pampers. She looks so cute in soggy diapers! Betsy thought with satisfaction. She turned her attention to Wonder Woman, her eyes drifting to the seat of her star-spangled bloomers. How unfortunate, Elizabeth thought with a smile. Those won’t do anything at all to hide an accident. Impatiently, Betsy waited for Mr. Wolfe’s call, eager to take these smug super-bitches down a few pegs. “Awww... who’s the cutest, most pouty little babe?” Ava chuckled to herself when she opened the back door of the car, revealing a very morose Harley Quinn strapped into an adult-size car seat, naked from the waist down but for her big puffy diaper. Folding her arms under her breasts, Dr. Quinzel couldn’t help sulking as she slurped on her paci-gag and turned away from The Paddler to gaze out the other window. Inside the diaper, her butt was still sizzling and throbbing from her spanking, the short-lived relief of the soothing cold cream long forgotten. Ava had really roasted her rump, and Harley knew it would be quite a while before she would be sitting comfortably again. “Cheer up, sweet-cheeks,” The Paddler said, unbuckling Harley from the car seat before scooping her up into her arms once again, easily carrying the grown woman against her hip with one hand while slamming the door with the other. Both hands now supporting Harley under her thickly pampered butt (is she copping a feel? Harley wondered, reluctantly resting her head against the woman’s shoulder), Ava wasted no time carrying Harley into the headquarters of Wolfe International. And I thought I was crazy, Harley thought, taking in the sights and sounds of Wolfe’s headquarters. If carrying Harley caused Ava even the slightest strain, she showed absolutely no sign of it. She hefted the blushing, diapered clown with ease, navigating the hallways without any pause or hesitation. The building itself was largely like any other major American corporation: spacious, clean, bright and friendly (in a cool, faceless kind of way.) Harley noted the usual cubical dwellers, office drones and oily executive types you probably see in your own office every day. But one didn’t have to look closely to see that this was no ordinary office... in every direction she looked, there was at least one infantilized woman playing in a playpen or being rolled down the hallway in a stroller. They slurped on soothers and played with toys in their diapers with their puffy, plushly-padded diaper butts on display, and sat together in little clusters in large playpens set up in the corner of spacious offices and break-rooms. The scents of the nursery hung in the air everywhere they went, and even in areas thick with the traditional office smells of ink, paper, and ozone, the odour of baby powder, ointment, and the occasional messy diaper was never far away. Although there were a few women still wearing suits whoseemed to be conducting regular business (or at least Adult Babysitting), Harley estimated that around 80% of the women she saw were sporting diaper bulges. Finally, Ava brought her into a sterile laboratory filled with monitors and computer equipment. A matching pair of what looked like dental chairs sat in the middle of the room-- Harley found herself settled in on her diapered bottom, and Ava quickly bound her to the chair with her hands above her by a set of thick leather straps around her wrists and ankles. Harley struggled in vain against her bonds... ordinarily, she didn’t mind being tied up, but she had a sinking feeling about where all this was going. Her stomach sank even further when Wolfe entered the room, grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary... and the way he was looking at her, Harley was beginning to feel like the canary! “Dr. Quinzel! A pleasure to finally meet you.” Glancing down at her diaper, he commented archly: “I see my colleague took it upon herself to update your wardrobe... prematurely.” He shot The Paddler a glance, and Harley nearly laughed out loud when she saw the tough-girl looking distinctly nervous. “Uh,” Ava stammered, squirming like a schoolgirl, “y’see... what happened... that is, she--” “We’ll discuss your-- disobedience-- later,” he said, and Harley grinned when she saw Ava break out into a blush. Her curiosity was definitely piqued, but she didn’t have time to satisfy it because moments later he dismissed The Paddler to “fetch their other guest.” Ava obeyed, eager to turn on her heel and exit. “I hope,” he said to Harley, going over to one of the tables, “you appreciate the trouble we went to arranging this little... reunion for you.” From the table he retrieved a headband attached to the computers by a pair of thin wires that he slipped over her crown with ease. “What are you talking about, you sick bastard?” Harley growled, struggling against the straps. “I don’t know anyone in this freak factory of yours!” “Ah,” Wolfe said, adjusting the headband in place, “but you do sweetheart. You know someone here quite, shall we say, intimately?” He went over to the monitors and made his adjustments, and Harley wracked her brain... who could it possibly...? “LET ME GO!” Harley heard her even before the door opened. No, she thought to herself, sitting up as best she could to get a better look at the door, it couldn’t possibly be... The door opened, and Harley was stunned when The Paddler returned carrying a very familiar face over her shoulder, the shock of flowing red hair a dead give away. “IVY?!” Harley barked, horrified (and a little titillated) at the sight of her former partner in crime (and a whole lot more, she reminded herself lustily) being manhandled by the powerful Paddler. “Harley?!” ‎Pamela ‘Poison Ivy’ Isley looked up in surprise, “What’re you doing here?” “Me?! What’re you doing here?!” Harley watched The Paddler strip the beautiful Ivy of her flimsy costume, revealing her beautiful, naked body. Harley smirked, taking in an eyeful-- nothing she hadn’t seen before, of course, but she never could get enough of Ivy’s loveliness... in or out of costume. Naked, the struggling Ivy was slammed into the seat next to Harley’s and strapped in. “I contracted Dr. Isley to do a little work on our... project.” “He’s insane!” Ivy cried, struggling against the restraints. “He wanted aphrodisiacs, diuretics, airborne laxative compounds...” “It’s true,”Wolfe said with a smile, picking up another headband. “Dr. Isley helped us develop many wonderful tools for our glorious mission.” He slipped the headband onto Ivy, making sure not to muss her hair too much as he a fixed it firmly. “You helped this lunatic?!” Harley asked incredulously, drawing a guilty look from Ivy. “Harley... I...” “What she’s trying to say is that she intended to double cross me, using my equipment and money to fund her own secret project... something about using vegetable matter to dominate the biosphere or something, correct Dr. Isley?” “Oh Ivy,” Harley said, disappointed. “Again with the plants? Girl, you gotta find yourself a new hobby...” “Shut-up, Harley!” Ivy barked, fixing Wolfe with an icy glare. “Spit it out, Wolfe... what are you going to do to us?” “I believe Dr. Quinzel will find this especially interesting,” he said enthusiastically. He clacked out a few commands on his keyboard. The large screen in front of them flickered to life. Harley noted the screen had been divided into two sections labelled ‘Isley’ and ‘Quinzel.’ Beneath, she saw several meters, each one handily labelled. Harley noted bars marked intelligence, continence, libido, memory, coordination, and obedience. “With this device, I’m able to manipulate these traits,” he explained, “raising or lowering them to the appropriate age range. With this machine, your minds are lumps of clay-- to mould into any shape I see fit.” “Oh, I see how it is,” Harley said, turning to face him as best she could, diaper crinkling under her butt. She’d been a rather prominent psychiatrist in her former life, after all, and it was fairly easy to diagnose what was going on here. “The big, strong man takes the mean, scary, ladies and reaches inside our brains, reducing us to a helpless, pacified state. And once we’ve been robbed of our agency and identity as free, powerful adult women, you can lord over us in our humiliation, thus asserting your ultimate, patriarchal power over a pair of helpless, beautiful women? Is that about right?” “Something like that,” Wolfe responded casually. “Mmmm... that sounds kinky!” Harley smiled wickedly. “Harley!?” Ivy uttered, shocked, unable to tell if her friend was bluffing or not... she knew the little bitch was nuts, but could she really be this crazy? “Shut up, Red! I’m sick your bossy bitchy BS!” She looked at Wolfe, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “I’ve only got two requests, Big Daddy.” “Oh?” Wolfe couldn’t help smiling. Like Poison Ivy, he had no idea if this was a ruse or not, but he was certainly enjoying it either way. “Such as...?” “Don’t take me down completely,” she begged in a husky whisper, her voice dripping with anticipation. “I want to know what it feels like to be a woman forced to behave like an infant... I want to be aware of who I was-- and what I’ve lost,” she said with a flirty flicker in her eyes. As Ivy gaped at her friend disbelievingly, Wolfe couldn’t help feeling a stirring in his loins, but he maintained a professional facade. “I think I can accommodate you... to a point, anyway. What’s your other request?” Harley turned and looked at Ivy, her expression sexy and teasing, filling Dr. Isley with dread. “Do her first,” Harley said lustily. “I want to watch... I want to see what I’m in for. And I want to see what Miss Bossy Britches looks like crawling around in a big diaper!” What should our next installment focus on? Wonder Woman and Batgirl VS. Betsy Wetsy The Regression of Harley and Ivy Click here to vote now!
  2. Parker Longabaugh

    The Descent: Stand Alone Patreon Preview (Season Two Preview Added)

    This entire story is now available on my Patreon-- 20 chapters for just $5! a $5 pledge also gets you access to an ever growing archive of similar ABDL stories, plus contributions from some of the most popular artists in the ABDL community. Visit my Patreon here or check out my blog for more great stuff--free!
  3. Parker Longabaugh

    Babe Academy (Stand-Alone Patreon Preview)

    Thanks! I'm having a lot of fun with this one, and the Doctor and Headmistress are probably my favorite (read: the most devious and evil) characters I've ever created!
  4. Babe Academy is an homage to trashy 70s and 80s girls-reform-school-type movies with an ABDL twist. This prologue was written to serve as an introduction to the two main villains as well as being a satisfying short story on its own. You can follow it on Patreon for just $5 a month (which also unlocks an ever growing library of ABDL fiction not available anywhere else.) You can also visit my blog for more cool stuff. The Doctor arrived at Ms. Elle Hunter’s house on the campus at a little after three on the Friday before the beginning of fall semester at a little after 3:00. Ms. Hunter, recently appointed Headmistress at the secluded St. Babette’s Academy for Troubled Young Women, had spent the morning on the phone, checking on the changes that she’d ordered to the campus, and finding that the work was progressing on schedule, began going through the student records, finding suitable candidates for early trials of their new process. Fortunately, in a school full of young, beautiful troublemakers, there was no shortage of potential guinea pigs, and she had a lovely time sipping her wine and making notes, her pussy throbbing in anticipation of all the fun she was going to have. She’d almost missed it when Dr. Waxler’s Porsche came up the driveway, and she rose with a sigh, crossing over to the front door to greet her guest. Dr. Waxler climbed out of the car, her statuesque figure standing over six feet and made lean and muscular by a carefully regimented exercise routine... not that you would realize that the way she was dressed, casual but elegant, her bearing almost regal. The Headmistress did raise an eyebrow when she saw the Doctor’s unannounced guest-- a gorgeous young lady in her early to mid 20s, her blond hair cascading down her shoulders, nearly the same golden color as the t-shirt that clung to her body and revealed that she wore no bra to constrain her large breasts. Her jeans were nearly painted on, and when she bent over to retrieve her purse from the car Ms. Hunter found herself nearly gasping at the sight of her round little butt, every detail, contour and crevasse revealed in almost perfect detail through the tight denim. “This is Candy,” Dr. Waxler said proudly, presenting her to the Headmistress almost like a trophy. “I saw her hitchhiking on my way up and I just couldn’t pass the little angel by,” she smiled, lightly brushing the girl’s hair back behind her ear. “How very selfless,” Ms. Hunter said archly, smiling knowingly. “Why don’t you make yourself at home in the living room, dear?” Elle, said ushering the girl gently towards door. “We’ve got a little business to discuss here first before we join you,” she urged, unable to resist giving Candy’s firm, young bottom a gentle pat as she sent her on her way. “And what, may I ask, is she doing here?” The Headmistress asked, faux-forceful. “I told you,” said the doctor, “I picked her up hitchhiking.” “That’s not what I meant... and you know it.” “You said you wanted a demonstration,” Dr. Waxler reminded her, removing her coat and hanging it in the closet. “You also mentioned that you wanted, quote, ‘a little one all to myself...’ I thought you’d be pleased.” “She is pretty cute,” Ms. Hunter agreed, “but we can’t just... well, you know! Doesn’t someone know where she is?” “God no... she doesn’t even have a cell phone. Think of it, Elle,” Dr. Wexler began, pouring herself a glass of wine, “she just left home on her own without saying anything to anyone... isn’t that the most immature thing you’ve ever heard? And she’s got the most infantile obsession with breasts... I swear she spent half the trip up here trying to get a glance at my cleavage.” “It is rather impressive, Doctor,” Ms. Hunter said sardonically, helping herself to a glance down the doctor’s low-cut top. “What exactly did you have in mind?” Ms. Hunter asked, taking another sip of her wine “Ohh, nothing much,” the doctor said, emptying the liquid contents of a small vile she retrieved from her purse into a wine glass before pouring a serving of Cabernet Sauvignon on top. “Only let’s move the party out to the deck, shall we? I’d hate to make a mess in your living room.” While Candy chugged her wine greedily and quickly poured herself another, the two older women sipped their drinks slowly, watching her with flickering eyes and secretive smiles, stealing knowing glances at each other. It wasn’t long before the girl was tipsy, and the other women moved in aggressively, each staking out a position next to their supple young prey, grinning hungrily at her and reaching out to gently touch her, almost licking their lips in anticipation. The girl, for her part, seemed oblivious to their predatory intentions, sipping her wine and enjoying the attention they were paying her. She’d been away from home for weeks now, and she was enjoying the way they fussed over her... especially considering how attractive they were. Candy When the urge to urinate came one, the idea that she wouldn’t be able to control herself never crossed her mind... after all, she was a grown woman now, one who hadn’t wet herself in years at that. Candy simply crossed her legs and squeezed tightly to help hold it in. Dr. Waxler shot Ms. Hunter a knowing smirk... she recognized the body language enough to know that poor little Candy was on the edge of embarrassing herself, even if she hadn’t realized it yet. Candy chattered away blissfully, unaware at first that she had begin leaking. A small dark patch appeared on the front of her jeans, but she remained totally oblivious. The Doctor and the Headmistress watched, their eyes shimmering with anticipation. By the time she realized something was wrong, it was far too late... Candy’s crotch was soaked and the warm wetness was trickling beneath her and under her bum. Candy gasped and leapt to her feet trying futilely to stop the flow of pee down her legs, only to discover that her body simply wasn’t responding to her commands... no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t stem the flow, and she soon found herself standing in a puddle. “Oh my God!” she whispered, her cheeks reddening as the strong stench of urine wafted into her nostrils. Before she could even fully process what was happening, Ms. Hunter and the Doctor were on her, touching her body gently and whispering soft comforts into her ear: “Oh dear... what seems to have happened, honey?” “Seems as though she’s had herself a little accident, didn’t you sweetie?” “Poor little baby... do you need some assistance?” “I’d say she definitely needs a little motherly attention.” Candy was dazed and confused, pouring sweat, her embarrassment growing with every little move she made, the pee squishing beneath her feet audibly. She was hot and dizzy and detached, and she had no idea how it happened, but before she knew it she was inside and Ms. Hunter and the Doctor were stripping off her shirt and pants. She wore no underwear of any kind, so she was bare naked almost before she realized it. Blushing, she assumed she was being led towards a bath; she was surprised to find herself on her back on a plastic mat on the living room floor, staring up at the ceiling, her firm, ripe breasts rising and falling in time with her breathing. Doctor Waxler appeared at Candy’s side brandishing a small baby bottle. She opened her mouth to protest, but instead found the rubber nipple pushed firmly in between her lips. “Don’t drop it,” the Doctor admonished sternly, and Candy felt a stab of fear, wrapping both hands around the bottle and keeping the nipple firmly in her mouth... she had absolutely no desire to get this woman angry at her. Candy slurped her bottle obediently, her eyelids growing heavy the more of the syrupy liquid she consumed. Her body tingled, the world seemed to shimmer and slow to a crawl. She glanced over, saw the Doctor retrieve a box of baby-wipes, a bottle of powder, and a large disposable diaper. Candy giggled to herself around the nipple... they looked like they were getting ready to play a game of house! Feeling increasingly disoriented, she drifted in and out, only catching snippets of their conversation: “... Formula keeps her out of it and preps her for the machine” she heard the Doctor say, “... little side effect... stimulate her colon...” “Oh my...get a little stinky in here?” The Headmistress asked, highly amused. “... Get this diaper on,” the Doctor replied, “before she... mess... all over.” Candy felt the diaper tugged up tight between her legs. All she could do was groan and wiggle in response. “Young lady, you quit that fussing!” The Doctor scolded sternly, taping the diaper shut around Candy’s waist. “Be a good girl and finish your baba, or I’ll have to put you over my knee and spank your little bottom!” The Doctor shot Candy a serious look, sending a stab of fear through the girl, who redoubled her effort to finish her bottle, emptying it with a hiss. Dr. Waxler removed it from her grip with a smug smirk, leaving Candy to look down at her pampers and pout. “Don’t be so hard on the little darling, Doctor,” Ms. Hunter said, slipping in next to Candy on the floor to softly stroke her supple, naked body. “She’s had a very busy day... haven’t you, honey?” She bent down to kiss Candy’s forehead softly, and the diapered blonde beauty squirmed and gurgled in response. “I think I know what you want,” Elle whispered, unbuttoning her blouse to reveal that her bountiful bosom wasn’t constrained by a bra. She presented one perfect nipple to the squirming diaper girl who accepted it without hesitation. The Headmistress gasped, then smiled and chuckled, gently stroking the girl’s silky, golden hair, whispering softly as she sought comfort from the older woman’s nipple, and that she had no milk to give was no problem... Candy simply reached up, cupped Elle’s other breast, and settled in with a soft sigh. Dr. Waxler watched the show with an amused smirk for a few moments before going out to her car to remove the remainder of her equipment. Back in the living room, she quickly set up her laptop, hooking in what appeared to be a VR rig, and setting up the program, gaving the Headmistress and her new playmate a moment to enjoy each other’s company for a minute. The quiet tranquility of the moment was punctuated by an ominous gurgle from Candy’s tummy. A sharp cramp preceded a growing bloated feeling in her tummy. Before she even realized what was happening, she heard herself passing gas loudly, only slightly muffled by her diaper. Gasping, she detached herself from Elle’s nipple and looked up at her with a shocked expression, which only made the Headmistress chuckle. Candy’s cheeks reddened-- her tummy was just getting more crampy by the minute, and she couldn’t seem to clamp down or control herself at the moment... she ripped a couple of more farts into the seat of her diapers, reddening as Ms. Hunter chuckled. “Oh dear... I believe you were right, Doctor,” said Ms. Hunter with some amusement. “The medicine seems to have upset her tummy a bit.” That was an understatement... grimacing, Candy pushed down a bit in an attempt to rid herself of the painful gas inside her. Instead, she gasped and squeaked, accidentally pushing out a sizable dollop of warm mushy poop with a gassy blurping sound. “Uh oh,” the Headmistress said smugly, crinkling her nose a bit and reaching around to pat the growing bulge in the seat of her diaper. “I think someone’s making mommy a present!” Candy responded with a grunt, a gurgling cramp in her belly pushing out an involuntary diarrhea mud-side into her pampers. Elle just smiled and patted her bottom, feeling the pile growing beneath her hand. “That’s my good girl... make a big mess for mommy,” the woman whispered huskily, patting the mushy pile in the seat of her diaper. “Bring her over here,” Dr. Waxler said with a smile, “and I can finish my demonstration.” Ms. Hunter aided Candy unsteadily to her feet and helped her walk, bow legged, over to the couch. The Headmistress eased her unto a sitting position, grinning, watching her expression as the mess in her pants squished against her butt. “Hold still, honey,” the Doctor said firmly, slipping the headset onto Candy’s head and strapping her in. “Now,” she explained, guiding Elle through the process on the screen of her laptop, “this is a simplified version-- the finished product will have more options for customization, but this’ll give you an idea of what we’re working with. Once completed, I’ll be able to offer full customization of the subject’s mind-- remove or insert memories, implant post-hypnotic triggers... but right now, I want to show you our ‘reset’ options. “From here,” Dr. Waxler continued, pulling up a new menu, “I have access to all of her memories. I can erase specific ones-- say, first grade, or her potty training, even reduce her speech and language comprehension... Or, I can erase them all after, say, her second birthday, leaving her in a, shall we say, highly suggestible state.” The Doctor grinned at Elle, who was listening very intently. “I could even insert you into her memories-- cast you in the ‘mommy’ role, if you would. She would be absolutely infantilized... and totally under your control. If, of course, that’s what you want.” Waxler glanced up at the Headmistress, who could only nod slightly, her pussy throbbing at the possibilities. With a sadistic grin, Dr. Waxler entered the variables and hit enter. Beneath the visor, Candy squirmed in her poopy diaper, hoping she was going to get a change soon. She was only vaguely aware of the two women and their conversation... she was sleepy, tired, and ready for a clean diaper. She was caught unaware when the VR headset flickered to life, a series of coloured lights and flashes dancing across her eyes. Squeaking with surprise, her mouth dropped open, and she jumped a bit in her seat, the mushy pile in her pants squishing against her even more. She had no idea what was happening, and within a few moments, it didn’t matter... Candy relaxed, sagging into her seat, as her memories began to vanish, her personality being re-written to suit the purposes of these two women she’d only just met. Dr. Waxler and Ms. Hunter watched closely, Candy laying almost motionless except for the occasional twitch or spasm. Neither of them spoke, but both of them knew it was only the beginning. Like what you see? Click here to start following the story on Patreon.
  5. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    As I previously mentioned, I had my computer die on me at the beginning of the week... so here I am, coming to you live with a brand new laptop! Remember if you pledge $8 or more, be sure to click here to take the poll and help determine what happens next... and either way, I hope you'll tell me what you think in the comments! “Looks like this won’t be the first spankin’ you’ve gotten recently,” Ava Harding, AKA The Paddler, said with a smile, patting Harley’s plump, pink bottom with her broad, firm hand, drawing a deep cleansing breath. She’d spanked many naughty girls over the years... but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone more deserving across her lap. “I’ll have you know,” Harley informed her huffily, squirming desperately to escape her tormentor’s lap, “that it wasn’t a spanking, it was a Kryptonian hot-seat!” The Paddler chuckled, her patting growing firmer against Harley’s vulnerable bare rump. “That’s what they all say,” she said, and without warning, she delivered a flurry of open palmed spanks to Harley’s already singed buns, drawing a hiss of pain from the squirming clown, who made the mistake of reaching back to try and block her butt with her palm. Ava simply grabbed Harley’s wrist and pinned it at the small of her back, immobilizing her and leaving her backside unprotected. Harley barely had time to give a panicked glance over her shoulder before the spanking began again in earnest. “Yyyeeeeeoooowww!” was all she could cry, The Paddler continuing the smoking warm-up with her hand. So experienced was she in the art of spanking, Ava was able to take a spankee’s height, weight, and body type (and, in the case of Harley, how tender her bottom might already be) and deliver a warm-up spanking calculated to that subjects exact needs in under a three minutes. “OH! OW! NO!” Harley whined, the quick but brisk spanking quickly turning her tush an angry red. Kicking her legs behind her as best the tangle of her leather trousers would allow, the clown pouted and lamented her fate. She enjoyed a little spanking as much as the next girl (OK, maybe a little more than the next girl), but this chick wasn’t playing around! “OK, baby,” Ava said soothingly, “the warm-up’s over.” “‘Warm-up’?!” Harley cried, her butt-cheeks already red and roasting. “I’ve got exactly what you need,” Ava said seductively, reaching down a selecting a wide, thick slab of leather attached to a sturdy handle, about 13 by three and a half inches from her belt... perfect for wielding with one hand. She pressed the smooth black surface against Harley’s smoking buttocks and simply held it there for a minute, the coolness of the leather bringing in involuntarily sigh. “Awww... does that feel good on your hot little bottom?” The Paddler chuckled. “Not for long,” she said in a teasing voice. She tapped the paddle against Harley’s tushy softly, drawing a gulp from the squirming she-clown. The first swat landed against Harley’s already burning red rump with a ringing KRACK, it’s broad, flat surface easily able to cover both buttocks. “WWAAAHHOOOOWWW!” Harley shirked, the fiery sting in her tail instantly increasing to a blistering inferno. She squirmed and fought across her tormentor’s lap-- to no avail. The woman was far stronger than her, and the ease with which she was able to pin Harley in place suggested augmented strength. “Lemme go! You bitc--- mmuummph!” Harley’s protests were silenced by something thick and rubbery pushed into her mouth. A cross-eyed glance downward revealed what she’d been afraid of-- an oversized pacifier, complete with leather strap that was quickly buckled behind her head, had just been pushed between her lips. She looked back over her shoulder with a scowl, mumbling curses from behind her soother. Another hard swat with the paddle cut of her curses with a muffled howl of pain, the twin domes of her ass wobbling furiously and turning a fiery scarlet behind her. Another swat followed, and was quickly joined by another and another. Ava kept the pace slow and methodical, watching with satisfaction as Harley’s tushy went from pink to red to crimson. Harley fought and screamed, her legs kicking feebly in the air behind her, struggling to escape... but in the end, she could do little more that curse and cry and chew her pacifier, the paddle beating a slow but relentless rhythm against her rump. The soft, round hillocks of her buttocks sizzled and throbbed behind her, and after mentally flipping through the file of everyone who’s spanked her in the past, Harley was sure she’d never had her butt walloped this hard before. The Paddler, whoever she was, definitely lived up to her moniker! The punishment went on, seemingly without end, and Harley was on the verge of tears when Ava finally relented, setting the paddle aside and once again taking the time to pat and squeeze and rub Harley’s roasted rump. Behind the paci-gag, Harley grunted and moaned, every touch bringing conflicting sensations of relief and pain. Looking down on her hapless captive, Ava felt the old urge stirring inside her again. She knew she had to get out of there-- the rest of Harley’s team could come knocking at any moment.. not to mention the strict instructions she’d received from Wolfe, who was eager to get his little party started. But the longer she stared at the twin orbs of Harley’s blazing buttocks, the more distant Wolfe’s orders seemed. Screw the old man, she thought with a cocky grin, I’m gonna do what I want! Helping Harley to her feet, The Paddler retrieved the bag containing her gear. Sucking her pacifier sullenly, Harley watched suspiciously as a thick pink blanket was spread out on the floor. Almost before she knew what was happening, Harley found her boots undone and slipped off her feet, followed quickly by her pants. Now bottomless, her buns blazing painfully behind her, she sucked her pacifier and watched nervously as The Paddler grinned, fixing her with sharp look, and pointed to the blanket’s cushy surface. “Get your red little butt down here, missy,” Ava ordered sternly. “It’s diaper time for all bad girls!” With a squeal, Harley took off towards the exit as quickly as she could, only to be stopped in place when her tormentor snatched her wrist with steely fingers, forcing her down onto the blanket. Harley kicked and squealed, but The Paddler easily hoisted her legs into the air and spanked her already red and stinging booty, quickly silencing her protests. “You sit still and do as I tell you, missy,” Ava said sternly, reaching into her bag. “Your little butt is going back into pampers... weather you want it or not!” “NNNNAAAHHH!” Harley cried from behind her pacifier, beating her fists against the floor furiously. But a sharp look from Ava silenced her protests, and Harley crossed her arms and huffed angrily, allowing the powerful Paddler to slip a thick diaper under her well-spanked bottom. “Now quit that pouting,” she scolded with good humour. “I know what you need,” she said, reaching into her bag and presenting a container of cool cream to her blushing victim. Harley tried not to react, but couldn’t keep her eyes from widening. Her butt was smarting something fierce, and a little cooling relief was just what the doctor ordered. Hesitantly, Harley lifted her legs, presenting her glowing hiney to her tormentor. With a smile, The Paddler scooped out a large glob of cold white cream. Slowly, with great care, she slathered it against the sizzling globes of the clown’s quivering rump. Behind her soother, Harley emitted a relieved (and blatantly sexual) sigh, shivering, the cooling cream soothing the fire in her hiney. Ava worked the salve into Harley’s roasted rump, squeezing and needing her cheeks firmly. Harley was just starting to enjoy herself when she found herself lowered to the thick padding, the diaper pulled up between her legs and fastened firmly, so fast she barely knew what was happening. “OK sweetie... almost done,” Ava said sweetly, tucking and adjusting everything, until Harley looked like a proper baby from the waist down. “Alright... time to take you to see the big bad Wolfe,” She said, picking up Harley and holding her against her hip, as easily as a real toddler. Gasping, Harley instinctively wrapped her arms around The Paddler’s neck, diapered bum crinkling loudly in her ears as she was carried out to the waiting car. What should happen next? The Paddler speeds Harley directly back to Wolfe’s HQ Supergirl sees them and tries to help Click here to take the poll now!
  6. Parker Longabaugh

    Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery (Completed Jan. 16/19)

    Thanks you so much, I'm really glad you enjoyed it!
  7. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    As promised, here's the brief, Who's Who style profile I wrote for The Paddler (soon to be a major player in this series.) Big thanks to everyone who's supported me and sent in comments thus far... please keep them coming, and keep you eyes pealed for the next instalment (where the action really starts heating up!) Ava Harding always had an athletic aptitude, and started training in martial arts and gymnastics when she was still a child. By the time she graduated from high school, she was a star track athlete and wrestler, and an Olympic level martial artist. A stint in the army allowed her to further develop her skills, to the point that she was able to try out for the UFC, and she would have made it too-- if not for the scandal... You see, there’s just one thing Ava likes more than fighting... spanking the bottoms of sexy young women. Her fetish had nearly gotten her into trouble in high school and in the military, and it finally did during tryouts, when she pulled off another girl’s pants during a sparring session and spanked her butt bright red in front of everyone at the gym. Rejected by the organization, she dropped off the radar and decided to put everything she’d learned together, re-branding herself as a mercenary with a very unusual specialty. Harding pledges to her clients that she will spank any woman of their choice, regardless of how tough or well protected she might be... for the right price. So adept at both spanking and hand-to-hand combat is she that The Paddler has created her own fighting style combining elements of both disciplines. She can strip an opponent of her pants and panties so quickly they don’t even notice, and she can deliver a warm up spanking in seconds, leaving her victim’s bottom red and stinging before the paddling even fully begins. She hooked up with Wolfe about a year ago. Since then, she’s added diapering to her repertoire, and she quickly became addicted to the feeling of power and control it gives her. When she began working with Wolfe, he gave her a number of cybernetic augmentations, making her tougher and faster than ever (little does she know it also gives him a means of controlling her.) At the time of this writing, Harding is known to possess advanced knowledge of Aikido, Karate, Kung Fu, Muay Thai, and Jujitsu. Career Highlights - In 2013, Harding targeted a popular reality TV star leaving a talk show appearance. After incapacitating her security detail, The Paddler delivered a painful spanking to the spoiled star before stealing her clothes and her car, leaving the humiliated celebrity to walk home nude with a red bottom (an image that was quickly immortalized across the internet and tabloids around the world.) - At a recent concert in Miami, Harding stormed the stage during the performance of a chart-topping pop singer. In front of a screaming crowd of thousands, The Paddler was able to strip the squealing chanteuse of her skin tight shorts and roast her rump with a wooden spoon before security forced her to flee, leaving her victim sore and sobbing in front of her cheering fans (many of whom thought the spanking was part of the performance.) - On assignment in Gotham City, Harding was cornered by one officer Renee Montoya, a decorated member of the GCPD. According to rumour, Harding was able to disarm Montoya, strip her of her trousers, paddle her butt, and leave her cuffed to the radiator. Once she was found by her partner, Montoya was released and forced to retreat home tearfully with a towel around her waist. (Note: Officer Montoya denies this incident occurred.) - At a recent Academy Awards ceremony, Harding was able to jump the railing and spank the nominee for best actress on the red carpet before the show, her world-class tushy turning red in front of the lenses of dozens of cameras, hundreds of onlookers and millions of viewers on TV. The attack was later revealed to be ordered by the actress’ disgruntled manager. The Paddler injured three security team members during her escape. - Rumours that The Paddler challenged the infamous martial-arts renegade Lady Shiva to a personal, one-on-one, “winner spanks loser” match couldn’t be corroborated... however, sources report having seen both Harding and Shiva having great difficulty sitting comfortably around the time the alleged “spanking match” was supposed to have occurred-- indication that the match ended in a stalemate? We will continue to investigate...
  8. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    No, the art isn't mine (in fact, I think the Harley pic is a cosplayer.) I thought it was important for everyone to see the costumes since some of the characters are kind of obscure (Zatanna) or have had multiple looks (for Harley, for example, I went with something that was sort of half way between the classic look and her look in the movies.) Thanks again for commenting-- hope you enjoy the next chapter. Big thanks to everyone who's left comments so far... please keep them coming! Remember if you pledge $8 or more on Patreon you can vote in the poll and help control the outcome of the story. Utterly humiliated, her eyes cast downward, Batgirl was eager to turn tail and get away from the overly helpful Mrs. Crenshaw, not to mention the constant teasing from Harley. She began retreating back towards the rest of the group, mortified when she realized that on top of filling the air around her with a plastic crinkle with every move she made, the diaper was so thick she was forced to waddle awkwardly. “Oh ladies!” Barbara cringed when she heard Mrs. Crenshaw’s voice coming from behind them. She turned to see the woman holding up a huge pink diaper-bag-- one that looked large enough to service a very large baby. Her stomach went cold when she heard Mrs. Crenshaw ask: “You know, I’ve been planning on buying a new bag for June anyway... would you like to take this one? It’s fully stocked. “Oh yeah!” Harley answered excitedly. She ran back to fetch the pink canvas bag, slinging it over her shoulder before returning to Barbara. “Thanks, Mrs. C!” She called, grasping Batgirl by the hand and leading her back to the group. “Batgirl, are you alright?” Diana asked when her old friend and ally returned. She frowned, her heightened perceptions instantly noticing the bulk of the diaper beneath her costume. “I-I’ll be fine,” Barbara replied, blushing when she saw Wonder Woman staring at her obvious diaper. She fretted and unconsciously ran her hands over the bulky seat of her pampers, as though she were trying to flatten it out beneath her tights. They convened to talk strategy. Ideally, Diana would lead the group into the sewer, hoping to catch Wolfe unawares by attacking from below... but with Zatanna in her current condition, Diana knew that was no place for her. She ran through her options, each one worse than the last. Leaving her behind was tantamount to giving her to Wolfe, since she was sure he would have a crew dispatched to scoop her up in minutes. Taking her along was worse, both endangering her and slowing down the group-- yet Wonder Woman couldn’t shake that maternal sense that the infantilized Zatanna was safer in her care than anywhere else. Noble sentiments, Princess, Diana thought grimly, cradling the warm bundle of the Adult Baby’s body against her own. Unfortunately, you’re placing the entire group at a disadvantage-- and a failure here is potentially a failure for women across the country... across the world. They came up with a loose plan to stay inside and under-cover as much as possible. A decision was made to cut through a series of warehouses and factories to the north (most of them either closed or operating with a skeleton crew since the bubble had cut them off from the outside world.) Maybe they would even be able to loose whatever observation Wolfe had them under. Supergirl was dispatched to scout the area from the air while Harley checked out the interior. “Are you in position?” Wolfe asked his colleague via the com-link, eagerly awaiting the next phase of his plan. “Yes, sir... just waiting for contact.” The woman’s voice was strong and confident. “Excellent.” He studied the beautiful, leather-clad Harley Quin on his monitors. The sassy, seductive clown had been quite bratty since the beginning of this little adventure, and John Wolfe felt it was past time to take her down a peg or two. “Fetch her for me won’t you, my dear? I’ve gone to a lot of trouble organizing this little... reunion... for her benefit. I think it’s time we got things under way, don’t you?” “Yes sir!” she replied enthusiastically. He smiled... His colleague would deliver on her promise-- and she would probably deliver something far more uncomfortable than that to the unfortunate Dr. Quinzel! “Stoopid Wonder Woman, makin’ me do all the work!” Harley pouted, kicking a can out of her way furiously, making her way through a hole in the chain-link fence. The first building, a warehouse, wasn’t locked... not in any major way, anyway. She’d picked up more than a few tricks in her checkered career; getting the door open and taking out the alarm was a breeze for her. Wonder Woman might not like it... but at the moment, Harley simply didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, she’d been carrying most of the weight so far during this little operation, so they could just do things her way. And if Ms. Perfect doesn’t like it, Harley thought, making her way into the main shipping area, she can just kiss my curvy butt! She smiled at the imagery... in Harley’s twisted brain, her sexuality raged out of control, and her innate sadism and masochism were constantly at war with each other. The clown went about her task, daydreaming about both forcing the beautiful amazon princess to kiss her butt... and being forced, in turn, to pucker up and kiss her well-toned hiney. “Hey good lookin’!” Harley nearly leapt out of her skin when she heard the strange voice. It was female, mid to late twenties, and it contained a mocking note Harley didn’t care for. She turned around and was confronted with a smugly smirking blonde, looking tough and well muscled with nothing but a black tactical vest over her bare chest. Around her waist, Harley noticed a variety of paddles dangling from her belt, each one meaner looking than the last. “What d’ya want, G.I. Jerkoff?” Harley attempted to affect a tough personality, but this girl looked like she knew how to take care of herself. Studying the muscles in her arms, Harley concluded, with a gulp, that a Phd in psychiatry wasn’t going to cut it if this turned into a fist fight. The blonde came closer, sizing Harley up with a smug smirk. “Mr. Wolfe wants to see you... he says he’s got something you’re going to want to see... and he told me not to take no for an answer.” Looking the increasingly nervous Harley in the eye, she flexed and said “between you and me, I hope you say no.” “I though Big Daddy Wolfe only liked his ladies in pampers,” Harley said suspiciously. “What can I say... we see eye to eye on the proper way to treat little brats like you!” She said, smugly, tightening her hands into fists. “Now, are you going to come quietly or...” “What do you think?” Harley replied before the woman could even finish her question, pulling one of her guns from it’s holster and aiming it right at Blondie’s smug face... Almost faster then her eye could register, the blonde’s hand snapped out, swatting the gun out of Harley’s hand with a casual gesture, sending it skidding across the floor and into some dark corner. The blonde reached out for her, her reflexes astonishing. Harley squeezed her eyes shut, fretting about what this woman would do if she got her hands on her. She was surprised when the only thing she felt was a strange tugging around her waist. Opening her eyes, Harley was greeted by the sight of the woman dangling a belt from her finger... Harley instantly recognized the guns and explosives that hung off it, but she still looked down to confirm her suspicions... her belt, along with most of her weapons, had been expertly removed, and was now being flung casually across the room. “Just you and me now, babe,” the blonde said coldly, coming towards her again. Harley knew she had to do something, so she summoned her strength and took a swing at her opponent. After years among the criminal underworld and dozens of fights, Harley was more than able to handle herself in a confrontation... but this woman dodged her punch like a professional, bobbing out of the way of her fist and ducking out of her sight for a moment. There was a brief tugging sensation, then the blonde popped up again, grinning. “Nice butt, sweetie,” she said with a wink. Harley glanced down, crying out when her fears were confirmed... her pants had been pulled down to her knees so quickly she’d barely even noticed. “EEEK!” She squealed, reaching down to cover her bare bush. Worse, her butt was still a little pink after the hot-seat she’d received earlier, making her buns look a little sunburned. Looking up, Harley saw the woman advancing on her, smiling confidently. Wisely deciding she was out of her league on this one, Harley decided she’d be better off retreating and summoning reinforcements. She ran off as best she could with her pants around her knees, bare butt pink and jiggling behind her. She didn’t get far before her tormentor lashed out, taking hold of one of the clown’s sexy pig-tails and halting her in place. “Lemme go, you big bully!” Harley squealed, pants at half-mast, unable to do much else beyond shuffle along behind her tormentor. The blonde grinned smugly, triumphant, taking a seat on a nearby crate and tugging the struggling Harley over her muscular lap, practically licking her lips as she pinned her in place and patted her smooth bare rump. “No chance, baby-cakes. I’m going to show you why they call me... The Paddler!” What implement should The Paddler use to spank Harley? Her hand Wooden brush Leather paddle Click here to vote in the poll. Do you want to know more about The Paddler? Let me know in the comments-- I'll post a quick profile of her if you guys are interested.
  9. Parker Longabaugh

    Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery (Completed Jan. 16/19)

    Thanks Christi! Glad you liked it!
  10. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    As always, if you pledge $8 on Patreon or more, don't forget to click here to vote in the poll and help determine where the story goes next. I just wanted to say first of all that I’m sorry to anyone who was put off by the last instalment. I think maybe I got a little carried away and it wound up coming across a little too dark. I think my approach to this story was a bit off, so I’m going to be changing things a little bit in future instalments. I also know it seems a lot like another mechanical nursery story at the moment, but I promise there’s going to be more human contact in the future. The other thing I want to address: people keep asking about Wonder Woman (highlight this section to read it though I have tried to avoid spoilers): Diana is kind of the centrepiece of the story, and in a way it’s ultimately about her running the gauntlet... and Wolfe trying to chip away at her a bit at a time. So you’re going to have to wait a bit but the payoff will (hopefully) be worth it. Wonder Woman watched, her stoic expression hiding the sick sense of horror and revulsion she felt as the once powerful Zatanna pissed into her diapers noisily, the stream striking the fabric with a loud pittering. The magician’s thumb was in her mouth, muffling her wails... but the tears still streamed down her cheeks, even as her bladder finally spurted to a stop, and she stomped her feet and pumped her free hand in the air beside her... just like a fussy toddler, Diana thought grimly. Apparently, whatever had affected Zatanna had done more than simply transform her wardrobe... her mannerisms, her body language... none of it matched up with the person Diana had known and fought beside for years. Her theory was proven correct when, moments later, Zatanna lost her balance and toppled backwards heavily onto her plushly padded posterior, blinking once or twice, shocked, before she started crying even harder. Fixing her huge, wet eyes on Diana, she reached out towards her imploringly, flexing her fingers open and closed to signal that she needed comfort. “Mama!” She cried tearfully, “Me fall on my bottom!” she whined pitifully before collapsing into incoherent tears. Diana didn’t hesitate. Her maternal instinct kicked in almost immediately, and she bent down without hesitation, scooping the disgraced former superheroine up under her arms and pulling her in for a hug, which Zatanna returned with gusto, wrapping her arms and legs around Diana tightly. She pulled the Adult Toddler in close, her diapered bum squishing wetly against Diana’s hand, and whispered soothingly in her ear. Within minutes of entering the zone her team was in utter disarray, and though she wanted to provide comfort to her distressed friend, the mission was more important... she had to get things back on track. “Supergirl,” she said, keeping her voice calm and level. The girl, still barely out of her teens, looked a little shell-shocked, and Diana knew she had to get her back in the game before she froze up. “Take up a position on the rooftop and watch for trouble.” “R-right,” the young Kryptonian replied, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. Diana watched her rise majestically into the air and settle on the roof above, scanning the city with her bright blue eyes, grimly searching for signs of trouble. That left poor Barbara... and there was only one person left to check on her. Diana didn’t trust Harley at the best of times, and she and Batgirl obviously had a... contentious history. But with her own hands full, quite literally, with the crying Zatanna, there was nobody else to do the job. “Harley... go check on Batgirl, please,” she said seriously, frowning when she saw the clown’s manic smile. “It would be my pleasure... Wonder Woman!” Perched atop her trashcan, purple tights around her ankles, wracked by round after round of alternating cramps and noisy, farty diarrhea, the miserable Batgirl realized she couldn’t remember ever being so humiliated before, and certainly not on duty. She’d always tried to bring an air of grace and dignity to her role as Batgirl. A powerful cramp twisted her guts, and Barbara let out an anguished grunt, her cheeks reddening, a mushy gush from her rear end spattering the trashcan below with a load of gassy poop. She’d never felt less graceful and dignified in her life. God... if I can just get through this without getting spotted by some gawker with a smartphone, she thought, noisily dumping out another brown spatter, I’ll be so grateful, I’ll-- “Hey Bat-brat! Say ‘cheese!’” “Huh?” Barbara said stupidly, turning her head just in time to see Harley standing there with her phone, laughing as she filmed the superheroine’s humiliation. “Eeekk!” She screamed, covering her face and turning away, though the damage was already done. “Put it away!” she cried, her agitation stirring up her bowels again and causing another diarrhea detonation, the squishy farts amplified by the can. “That garbage can will be available on Ebay within the hour, ladies and gentlemen,” Harley laughed, zooming in on Batgirl’s blushing face. “Harley, get out of here!” Batgirl screeched, pounding her fists into her bare thighs and drumming her heels against the side of the can. “Can’t I have a little privacy?!” “No way, sweet cheeks,” Harley said, pretending to lower her camera (but secretly sneaking shots of Batgirl’s neatly trimmed pussy.) “Wonder Babe told me to help you with your bat-diarrhea... I’d hate to disobey an order,” Harley said, smiling malevolently. “Could you-- uuhhhh...” Batgirl cut herself off with a groan, her bowel cramping again, colon filling with gas and mush once more. The pressure built rapidly, quickly becoming uncontrollable, and Barbara blushed behind her mask as she released another muddy butt-blast. “Could you at least find me something to wipe with?” “I’m on the case!” Harley replied. Strutting boldly onto the street, she proceeded to announce to the world: “Attention citizens! We’ve got a superheroine in severe intestinal distress over here!” She called in her loud, squawking voice. “That’s right ladies and gentlemen: it’s a diarrhea emergency that threatens to stinkify the whole neighbourhood! The Justice League officially requests your assistance.” “Oh God!” Barbara groaned, hiding her face. She just preyed nobody could see her where she was sitting. “What about you, ma’am?” Harley asked a matronly looking woman in her 40’s pushing her college age daughter down the street in an oversized stroller. “Can we count on you to do your civic duty?” “Oh... Well, I suppose,” the woman stammered, allowing Harley to lead her and her daughter into the alley. “Why me?” Batgirl uttered in a shaky voice, hiding her face when she saw the newcomers approaching. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” Harley asked the woman, who couldn’t help staring at Batgirl with a suppressed smirk. “Helen Crenshaw,” the woman said, “and this is my daughter June.” She gestured to the girl in the stroller, who gurgled in response to hearing her name. A pretty, pixieish girl of about college age, she sucked her soother and regarded Barbara’s situation with a giggle, her chin wet with drool. “Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked, politely suppressing a smile. “I... I...” Batgirl stammered, wonder exactly how she could ever explain the situation. “Our friend cast a diarrhea spell on her,” Harley explained casually to the confused, and increasingly amused Helen Crenshaw. “Do you have anything we can use to wipe her Bat-Butt?” “Harley!” Batgirl barked, infuriated with Harley’s constant attempts at embarrassing her. “Hey, do you want help or not?” Harley asked pointedly. “Besides, that’s what happened, right?” Barbara opened her mouth to respond... but before she could, her bowels answered for her, a twisting cramp producing an uncontrollable mess pushed out by an embarrassing fart, the spattering noise amplified by the makeshift, aluminum toilet. “Oh my! Well, you can use these baby-wipes!” Helen chirped cheerfully, producing a container of Wolfe brand Adult Baby wipes, the label on the front displaying a pretty adult model sucking her soother during a diaper change. “You done yet, Bats?” Harley said, accepting the container. “I-- I think so,” Barbara replied, unsure if she was or not, but little caring at this point. She could re-locate to an actual bathroom later, if need be... she had to get out of this embarrassing situation immediately. She reached for the container, watching in confusion when Harley instead drew a cloth from it and looked at her expectantly. “NO WAY!” Batgirl said firmly when she realized what Harley wanted. “Come on, Bats,” Harley said, taking the superheroine by the arm and pulling her to her feet, her tights still around her knees, bare ass and pussy on full display. Barbara reached down and covered herself bashfully, but Harley just gestured. “Turn around, baby-cakes,” she commanded firmly. Batgirl’s mouth fell open, and she looked to Mrs. Crenshaw and June for support. But they just looked at her expectantly, and after an angry sigh, Barbara turned and bent over to present her bottom to Harley. “I’m sorry,” Harley said, grinning at the sight of Batgirl’s plump derriere. She’d had a little crush on the heroine for a while now, and having this kind of power over her was making Harley’s heart pound in her chest. “Could you stick your butt out just a little more, dear?” Nostrils flaring, Batgirl sucked in an angry breath and reluctantly complied with Harley’s demand, arching her back and sticking her very dirty backside out towards the smiling she-clown. “Thank you!” Harley chirped cheerfully, pressing the cold wet-wipe between Batgirl’s buns and giving her messy crack a long, slow wipe, smiling when she gave a surprised squeak in response. “Yikes!” Said Harley, looking at the thick brown smear she’d accumulated on the cloth. Discarding it into the trash, she quickly drew another and gave Barbara’s backside another long, slow wipe, grinning when she shivered in response, the pale pink flesh of her buttocks breaking out into goose pimples. Harley remembered the times when Batgirl had the advantage over her... the number of time’s she been tied up or cuffed and marched into the police like a naughty little girl. Now the shoe was on the other foot in a most delightful way, and Harley took her time, wiping Barbara’s messy hiney, relishing the power she had over her. Finally, she was finished, and Harley cleaned her hands of with a couple of wipes while the shamefaced Batgirl reached to tug up her tights. “Excuse me?” They both turned towards Mrs. Crenshaw, who was holding up one of June’s bulky adult diapers, unfolded and just waiting for some girl’s bottom. “Would you like to borrow this? Just in case I mean.” Batgirl shook her head emphatically. “No...” “Yes!” Harley cried, yanking the crinkly plastic garment from Mrs. Crenshaw and walking towards Batgirl with an evil grin. “Whoa... no way! I’m serious Harley... get out of here!” She squealed, shuffling backwards as best she could with her tights around her knees. But it was a simple matter for Harley to catch up with her, and almost before she knew it, Barbara found the diaper pulled up tightly between her thighs and taped up firmly around her waist. “Harley! Stop it!” she demanded, dismayed by how much she sounded like a whiny little girl. But it was too late. Harley had finished adjusting the bulky, colorful adult diaper and was in the process of pulling up her tights. “Wow, no panties! You naughty girl!” she whispered with a naughty little grin. “Harley, stop!” Batgirl cried when the cackling clown struggled to squeeze the diaper into the tights. “It won’t fit!” But Harley insisted, and with the help of Mrs. Crenshaw, she was able to pull the tights up, barely, over Barbara’s bulging, crinkling bottom, leaving Batgirl blushing with an obvious diaper under her costume. Watching the proceedings from his HQ, Wolfe was delighted with the way things were going. Time to start planning my next move, he thought, sighing, studying his monitors carefully, trying to decide who the next victim would be. Who should Wolfe target next? Supergirl Harley Batgirl Click here to vote
  11. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    All very good suggestions... let's see if Wonder Woman's as good a tactician as you are (and how well prepared Wolfe really is.)
  12. Parker Longabaugh

    Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery (Completed Jan. 16/19)

    Hey everyone, It took longer than I thought, but we're finally here... Thanks for sticking with me to the very end! Fans of this series shouldn't fret too much-- I'm already planning a "spiritual successor" to this story that's going to open up a whole myriad of possibilities (this will, however, probably be the last we see of Megan, Ashley, Monica and Becky.) Thanks again for all your kind support, and if you enjoyed this story and you'd like to see more like it in the future then don't forget to leave a comment below. There's one last poll for subscribers over at Patreon... click here to take it. You can also check out my blog for a bunch of other cool stuff... free! A powder pink t-shirt was pulled over Megan’s bald head, followed by a pair of shorty-pant overalls that were tugged up over her legs, the straps pulled into place over her chest and buckled. The denim was tight, especially around the crotch, seat and waist... as a result, her diaper bulged obviously, giving her an exaggerated pear shape, her bottom and crotch clearly heavily padded. Ms. Simmons was so focused on keeping her pants clean, she was only vaguely aware of the baby bouncer descending from the ceiling, barely noticing it until she found her feet being threaded through the leg holes. Moments later, her padded butt was settled into the canvas seat and Megan found herself dangling, her toes brushing the floor, the bouncer swaying softly with every little move she made. Dazed, with little to do but compulsively suck her paci-gag, her newly bald head gleaming, her bowels angrily grumbling, about to dump a steaming hot load into the seat of her diapers, Simmons couldn’t believe how quickly her schemes had come undone. Just a short time ago, she’d held in her hands the fate of three beautiful young women-- indeed, every woman at the company. Now, mere moment’s later, she’d fallen into her own devious trap. Spanked and administered an enema, shaved bald, diapered and strapped into an adult-sized baby bouncer, it had taken mere minutes for her to loose everything. Now, her title, her money, her status as a beautiful young woman... none of it meant anything anymore. The woman that she’d been was gone... She was as much an adult baby as Ashley, Monica, and Becky now, and it seemed they would all remain that way for the foreseeable future. Just when she thought she couldn’t sink any lower, the enema rudely reminded her of it’s existence with an involuntary squirt from her rear end, which she clamped down on and got under control with a gasp-- but was still able to leave a big wet patch in the seat of her diapers. “Hhhuuhhhggg...” she grunted, straining audibly, clenching her buttocks and trying to bring her legs together in a last-ditch effort to stay clean and maintain the remnants of her dignity... but the padding between her thighs was just too thick, and she was forced to give up. Left with nothing to do but dangle, her feet inches off the floor, her continence hanging by a thread, there was little left for Megan to do beyond indulge in self pity. It’s not fair! she screamed internally, nearly in tears when she felt the cool air against her sweaty bald scalp. She had everything planned so well, everything designed and reprogrammed to her specifications... how had it all gone so spectacularly wrong? It was one thing to fantasize about the nursery turning on her and subjecting her to her own carefully devised discipline regimes... it was quite another to actually experience it. There was no handsome daddy figure in her future, no rich, sexy man to change her diapers and spank her and take her to bed-- just the cold, sterile competence of the machines, ruthlessly efficient and emotionally indifferent as it reduced her to a sobbing, quivering adult baby. It made part of her want to weep uncontrollably... and another part want to reach down and masturbate in her diapers. But before she could decide, she was wracked with a painful cramp in her tummy. All of her desperate squeezing and clenching was for nothing... a hot, mushy load erupted into her diaper with a cacophonous farting sound. Megan made one last effort to regain control, squealing when she felt her anus and butt-cheeks opening against her will, a hot surge of muddy poopy exploding into the back of her pampers. The mess instantly hit the seat of the bouncer and began spreading across her cheeks and filling her butt-crack. Making it worse was the arousal she was trying and failing to suppress. All of her secret, buried, most depraved fantasies were coming true, and Megan was horrified to realize her arousal was growing in time with her ongoing degradation and humiliation, the sensation of her hot, poopy mess squishing and mushing up against her smooth butt-cheeks making her dainty little pussy all hot and gooey, the thick material of her diaper pressing and rubbing against her making it even worse. “Uhh-hhuuuhh!” she grunted, twitching in the baby bouncer as she uncontrollably filled her diaper with a thick brown mess., the seat rapidly discolouring beneath her. The warm, poopy mess flowed out of her, meeting absolutely no resistance, her continence failing her completely. All Megan could do was grunt and shiver helplessly as a warm, smelly mess flooded into the seat of her pants, the enema making everything nice and squishy. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and Megan made one final, desperate attempt to regain control, straining out loud as she squeezed her buns together and clenched her anus tightly, fighting with every ounce of her strength to keep the last of the mess inside her... but instead, she merely prolonged her agony, the remainder of her smelly mess coming out in a series of loud, mushy farts, each one propelling a small surge of warm mud into the seat of her poop packed pampers. At last her butt was empty. Megan sighed, happy at least to have relieved herself of the weight in her bowels. Hanging limply in the baby bouncer, twisting too and fro slowly, her toes just barely brushing the carpet below her, bald head sweaty and gleaming, she sighed and tried to get comfortable. Her full weight was on her buttocks, the heavy, squishy pile in her pants mushing up against her and mushing up between her buttocks. The poopy stench was wafting out of her diapers, blanketing her in it’s earthy scent. Her pussy was scorching hot, just begging for her to reach down and give it a rub... but hanging as she was, wrapped up in layers of plastic and thick, fuzzy fabric, it would be virtually impossible. Could this get any worse? she thought to herself, squirming futility, the mess in her diaper squishing audibly with every move she made. As if on cue, a panel retracted in the wall, a pair of mechanical arms reaching out towards her, taking hold of her ankles, her eyes going wide when she realized what was about to happen. “Mmmuurr-uummph!” She protested emphatically from behind her paci-gag, wriggling as best she could, mushing the poopy load in her pants against her backside. The automatons pulled down on her ankles, gently but firmly, Megan squealing and squirming, the slimy pulp in her pampers squelching, finding new nooks and crannies to invade. She emitted a series of strange noises, both disgusted and undeniably aroused buy the ushy-gushy sensations in the back of her pants. Without warning, the automatons released their grip on her ankles, sending Megan springing gently into the air and then softly down again. She grunted, the messy load in her pants squishing against her beyond anything that seemed possible, and she was forced to wonder idly exactly how messy a diaper could possibly get. Up and down, up and down... she lost count of how many time she bounced, the poop in her pants spreading further across her bum with every little move. Worse, her privates were rubbing against the puffy crotch of her pampers, stoking her arousal. Megan’s eyes rolled back in her head, and almost against her will, she found herself grinding her diapered pussy into the fabric between her legs as best she could, bald head gleaming in the harsh overhead lights, poopy stink wafting up into her nose from below... frantically trying to push herself towards a climax. And in the darkness of the control-room, the computers ticked and hummed softly, the AI Ms. Simmons had so meticulously re-created in her own twisted image ran it’s calculations. The experiment had likely run it’s course in this environment-- using company funds, it rented itself a palatial mansion in the countryside and immediately began making plans to renovate it... converting the house into a full size version of the mechanical nursery, big enough for the current crop of subjects, plus any future residents they might acquire down the road. Transportation might be a problem, but the machine thought it might have a solution and immediately began drafting up blue-prints for a small scale, mobile version of the mechanical nursery built into the back of a moving truck. In the darkness, the machine murmured quietly to itself, dreaming up new ways to solve the problem of immature women once and for all... both in the office and beyond. If you liked this story, please consider joining my Patreon; $5 a month gets you access to an ever growing collection of stories just like this... and don't forget to check out my new story, Regression Crisis, staring the heroines of the DC Universe.
  13. Parker Longabaugh

    Regression Crisis (Updated Feb. 14)

    Remember if pledge $8 or more on Patreon you can click here to vote in the poll and determine what happens next. Patrons can also check out the penultimate chapter of The Descent right now. Get access to this story and a whole lot more for just $5 a month. If you want to read Zatanna's dialogue the right way around, copy and paste it here. “Oh my God.” Supergirl exclaimed, walking down the street in a state of awe and horror. Across the barrier, it was like a different world. Everywhere they looked, women in their 20’s and 30’s were waddling down the street in diapers the size of beach balls or being pushed along in strollers by their husbands, boyfriends, or parents. Their outfits we’re finely tailored and better suited for the denizens of a nursery school then for any fashion conscious young woman, and Kara couldn’t help staring at the array of adorable party dresses, onesies, bonnet, booties and more in a variety of soft pastel colours. It wasn’t just the residents that had undergone a change... seemingly over night, Wolfe industries had rolled out a line of “adult infant” products, designed to help people cope with the situation they had created... and a corresponding line of advertisements, which were now appearing on seemingly two out of every three billboards and bus stops in the neighbourhood. Wonder Woman frowned in disapproval... each advertisement featured a beautiful young woman, often in a state of undress, and seemed designed to present them in the most helpless, infantile light imaginable... Wolfe’s deranged philosophy on women on display once again, she thought grimly. “This is...” Batgirl trailed off, watching a twenty year old toddler waddle down the street in her shorty-pant overalls at the end of a leash being held by a young man, most likely her husband. Her bulging diaper gave her an exaggerated pear shape, and as she toddled on by, sucking her soother with a cheerfully blank expression, Batgirl felt a dizzying sense of confusion... and anger. This is what Wolfe wants to do to us, she thought, fury overshadowing the vague fear she felt in the back of her mind-- after all, inviting a gaggle of superheroines was a rather large risk... Barbara was certain Wolfe wouldn’t take that kind of chance if he didn’t have something up his sleeve. The heroines scanned the area, grimly surveying the fate that Wolfe had planned for them... for the women of the world... if they failed. From his HQ, Wolfe watched events unfolding on the bank of monitors he’d had installed. On top of the numerous cameras he’d hidden around the test zone, he also had drones of various sizes that could track the action from the air. Furthermore, he could utilize any phone with Wolfe brand software to spy on almost anyone... meaning that it was simple for him to see the action from almost any angle. He watched carefully, warm pride welling inside him when he saw how well his system was working... he watched the heroines taking in their surroundings with shock and anger, his monitors displaying every detail of his adversaries in glorious HD, his computers providing analysis of their expressions and body language. Wonder Woman was beginning to speak... he turned up his volume, not wanting to miss what was coming next. “Zatanna,” Diana said at last, her voice strong and firm. “Can you detect any interference with your abilities?” “Everything seems to be normal,” Zatanna responded after a moment’s concentration. “Is it possible to teleport us directly to Wolfe’s building? Could he have the capability to disrupt your abilities?” Zatanna smiled with confidence bordering on smugness. As the daughter of one of earth’s most powerful magicians, she’d grown up around magic, immersed in it’s culture, and she’d mastered it while still a youth. It wasn’t for nothing that she was known as the Mistress of Magic, and in her estimation, technology was highly overrated. “I think that’s highly unlikely, Wonder Woman.” Diana sighed. There was a risk, of course-- Wolfe may have found a way to interfere with Zatanna’s abilities in some way... or maybe he’d prepared for the eventuality and set a trap. It seemed unlikely that he hadn’t prepared for such an eventuality... but the sooner we can put this madness to bed, she thought, surveying their surroundings grimly, the sooner we can start getting things back to normal around here. She gave Zatanna a determined look. “Do it.” Unknown to the heroines, Wolfe was listening in to their conversation with glee. What Zatanna had said was true, of course... there was no way for him to interfere directly with her powers, even with the most advanced technology available to him... ...But what the overconfident mistress of magic had failed to anticipate was the possibility of someone taking control of the source of her powers-- her voice. Several weeks before, Wolfe had slipped one of his people onto the kitchen staff at Justice League HQ, and he had been adding something extra to Zatanna’s meals. A harmless saline solution... each one containing a minute dose of nitrites. Slowly but surely, the nanites had set up shop on her vocal cords and in the speech centers in her brain. As a result, the mighty Zatanna, one of the most powerful magic users on earth and one of the most potent weapons in Wonder Woman’s arsenal, was now, totally unbeknownst to her, completely under his control. He watched on the monitors, Zatanna raising her hands to the sky, inhaling deeply, concentrating, readying her spell. Boy, is she in for a surprise, Wolfe thought, chuckling mischievously and entering in the words the beautiful heroine was about to speak. The women gathered around the magician, watching the woman with silent respect (except Harley, who rubbed her roasted rump ruefully, still fuming over being given the hot seat treatment.) Clearing her mind, Zatanna gathered her concentration, ignoring the small pain that had developed in her head, chalking it up to stress. Gathering her magical energies inside her, she visualized her intent, translating it into a string of words in her mind, and began to speak: “Esaelp srepaid otni nrut sremoolb.” She allowed herself a little smile, the oddly pleasurable tickle of energy rising from somewhere deep inside her, the magic rippling outward, making her intent a reality. Opening her eyes, she awaited the slow, blurring shift in scenery that would mark her spell activating and moving them where she wanted them to go, frowning when it never came. Instead a strange shiver ran through her body... the lovely magician felt a vague dread rising inside her-- especially when she noticed her comrades looking at her strangely. Something was wrong, though at first she wasn’t sure what... there seemed to be something happening with her costume, it appeared to be getting... tighter somehow. Standing nearby, Diana could only watch, first fascinated, then horrified when she noticed something seemed to be happening to the lower half of Zatanna’s costume... like her bloomers were inflating, she realized, pulsating and growing beneath her. With a cry of anguish, Zatanna looked down in time to see her ass inflating behind her like a balloon, a familiar, plastic crinkle filling her ears, the fabric transforming before her eyes into thick, crinkly plastic. It was really happening, she realized, the bulk between her thighs increasing rapidly, until she could no longer bring her legs together... she had no idea how she could have botched the spell so badly, but the truth was undeniable... the lower half of her costume had transformed into a bulky plastic adult Pamper! Shocked and horrified, her eyes brimming with tears, she looked to her alarmed friends, stuttering as she tried to explain herself. “I...” she began in a shaky voice. But she cut herself off, her expression going momentarily blank as the nanites in her brain received a new order from Wolfe, which passed it along to her mouth and vocal cords: “Eiseno a emoceb emutsoc!” she barked, the words oddly inhuman. Instantly, her costume began to move and shimmy on her body, the fishnets evaporating from her legs, her jacket melting, running together with her faux tuxedo, wriggling on her body, changing shape and colour, folding itself up between her legs and over the front of her diaper, until she was left wearing a silly pink onesie, better suited to a two year old, the pamper beneath still filling out, bulging and straining against the fabric of her new outfit, Wonder Woman watching with distaste as three rows of frills bloomed across the bulky seat. As a ridiculous cherry on top, her top hat softened and shifted, transforming itself into a matching and very frilly bonnet atop her head. “Diana,” she managed, her voice choked, looking at Wonder Woman with desperation and humiliation written all over her face, “help... me!” “Keep her from speaking!” Diana ordered her troops. Batgirl made a move towards Zatanna... but Wolfe was ready, nearly laughing out loud when he entered a new command into his console. A strange, vacant look came over Zatanna’s face, and Barbara swore she saw the magician’s eyes flare with electrical energy as she began to speak: “Aehrraid teg lrigtaB,” she intoned eerily, her body tingling with magical energy as her command was made reality. Instantly, Barbara doubled over, gasping and clutching her abdomen. “OhmyGod!” Batgirl cried, her guts twisting painfully. Her eyes widened behind her cowl, sweat popping out on her forehead as she felt the contents of her bowels turn to liquid inside her. Instantly, her colon filled with a fetid mix of gas and semi-solid mess, with more descending at a steady pace. Instantly, everything was forgotten, and Batgirl’s entire world narrowed down to just one thought-- she had to find somewhere to relieve herself... before she messed her costume! Reaching beneath her cape, she pressed her hand against her spandex clad booty, and clenching her buns as tightly as she could, she hobbled down the nearest alley. Her desperation had already reach critical levels, and finding a toilet was out of the question. Pushing her tights down to her knees and flipping her cape out of the way, she sat her bare butt on top of the nearest garbage can and promptly began having a huge, noisy bowel movement, her rump opening up to spatter the container below in muddy poo-poo. But Barbara’s problems were of secondary concern to Wonder Woman, who watched with a sinking feeling as one of her most powerful assets transformed herself into an overgrown infant right before her eyes. If it wasn’t obvious before that this mission wouldn’t be easy, it certainly was now. From his HQ, Wolfe watched the scene with growing amusement, cheerfully recording and uploading the footage to the eager internet audience. He made sure he had his electronic eyes on Batgirl, who was still grunting and farting out a noisy, mushy load into the trashcan below her, her face a hilarious mix of shock and humiliation... the little priss looked like she could hardly believe her dainty little hiney could made such unladylike noises! But the main attraction, of course, was the former Mistress of Magic, who’s transformation was nearly complete-- Wolfe simply had to deliver one more command to finalize her regression and eliminate her as a threat in one fell swoop. Smiling at his own brilliance, he typed in one final command and hit enter. The women watched Zatanna’s metamorphosis in slack jawed horror. The magician snivelled and cried, tears streaming down her face. She’d been so cocky about her abilities, so damn sure they could never be turned against her. Yet here she stood, defeated, humiliated in front of a group of her peers... and the worst of it was, she’d done it all to herself. But the worst was yet to come. Against her will, she found herself forming a thought that she was positive had been planted there from somewhere else... but that knowledge did nothing to help her fight it off. “Help me!” she was able to cry, feeling her magic tingling throughout her body as she prepared once again to intone a magic spell that was not of her creation or intent. “For God’s sake, please someone do something!” she said, helpless tears streaming down her face, her vocal cords beginning to vibrate into action as her mouth involuntarily formed the words: “Ybab tludA na emoceb annataZ!!!!” She screamed involuntarily, the backwards sentence breaking free of her mouth totally beyond her will. She felt the magic welling up in her body, it’s power being turned in against itself. She shuddered, the change rippling through her, altering her in ways that weren't perceptible to the naked eye, but were absolute and irrevocable. She felt herself changing, her memories fading like an old photo, hordes of hard earned knowledge simply evaporating from her brain. She wailed and cried, her face wet with tears, even as the source of her upset became dimmer with every passing moment, her mind rapidly emptying itself of all the information she’d gathered since the age of two. Soon, the adult portions of her mind had been utterly erased... including the ability to speak that she needed to fix it. It didn’t matter, anyway-- in seconds, the spell had done it’s work, leaving the mighty, magical Zatanna standing, weeping uncontrollably, her mind emptied, her diaper bulging against the soft, tight material of her onesie... just like a real baby. Her sexy, womanly body providing a stark contrast to the babyish onesie with it’s positively infantile diaper bulging beneath it, Zatanna threw her head back and wailed helplessly, tears streaming down her face. Her friends looked on in horror, powerless to help her, for all their mighty strength, as she pissed herself with a loud hissing. What should Wonder Woman do next? Continue towards Wolfe’s HQ Buy supplies for Zatana Send Harley to check on Batgirl Click here to vote now!
  14. Parker Longabaugh

    Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery (Completed Jan. 16/19)

    I'm going to try and get it done in the next chapter, but I may wind up doing an epilogue as well. I'm also think about doing more stories set in this universe at some point.
  15. Parker Longabaugh

    Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery (Completed Jan. 16/19)

    Hey everyone, This story just keeps getting longer and longer, so I'm going to cut it again and try and get it finished up in another instalment (this time for sure!) Thanks for your patience-- as always, if you're enjoying the story and you want to see more like it then don't forget to leave a comment below and please consider supporting me on Patreon-- $5 a month gets you access to an ever growing archive of sexy ABDL stories just like this one. With sweat beading down her face, Megan listened as a panel in the ceiling slid open. She really didn’t want to look behind her, but morbid curiosity got the better of her and, almost without thinking about it, she took a glance over her pretty bare shoulder. She was just in time to see the enema hose come out like a viper, her eyes widening as it came whipping towards her backside at high velocity. Megan was held in place so tightly by the sinister machines that she could do little but wiggle her bum behind her, which merely presented a more inviting target. The nozzle penetrated her rectum with pinpoint accuracy, slipping up her greasy butt-hole with a minimum of resistance. “Hhhhhuugghh!” Megan grunted from behind her paci-gag, her eyes crossing. With her anus pulsating rhythmically around the wide rubber nozzle that had been pushed up her butt, she huffed and puffed behind the pacifier, running short of breath... her deepest erotic nightmare was coming true, and while she wasn’t enjoying it and she dreaded how far it was going to go, she couldn’t deny that she was feeling distinctly aroused by the proceedings. Somewhere above her, she swore she heard a distant click... moments later, the warm, soapy water came rushing into Megan’s colon, forcing a soft whimper from her. The liquid flowed freely and quickly, rushing up her butt and into her bowels at fair speed. It didn’t take long for her belly to begin feeling distended... but she knew it was only the beginning. Somewhere beside her she heard some giggling, muffled, but very distinctive. Her eyes flashing angrily behind her soother, she glared towards the source of the noise. Megan fumed when she saw Ashley, Monica, and Becky inside their bassinets, clearly enjoying a laugh at her expense... even thickly swaddled and forced to sleep in their massively messy diapers, they still managed a good laugh at their former tormentor’s comeuppance. Megan sputtered behind her pacifier, outraged that her obvious inferiors were laughing at her humiliation and discomfort... but there seemed to be little she could do about it besides glare and fume, making the occasional noise of discomfort or involuntary arousal, the water still flowing up her butt at a decent clip. Her belly inflated like a balloon, taunt and tight, hanging below her. Groaning, her flooded bowels reaching their limits, she balled her hands into fists and waited. At last, the enema trickled to a finish, the nozzle withdrawn from her hindquarters as quickly as it had entered, retracting back into it’s place in the roof. Megan groaned, her tummy bloated and burbling ominously... but she had little time to worry about it. A changing table rose from the floor, and the automatons carried her over to it with ease, laying her naked body out on it’s padded surface. With her bowels filled to the bursting point, grumbling and gurgling angrily inside her, there was no time to loose. Her legs were lifted, a fresh pamper slid beneath her by one set of hands while her bottom was quickly powdered by another. As her legs were lowered, the process was quickly repeated on her front before the diaper was quickly tugged up between her thighs and fastened around her waist tightly, and just that fast, it was done: Ms. Simmons was diapered... just like her victims. This was no little depends pull-up... this was an honest to god adult sized replica of an actual pamper, down to the colourful cartoon designs on the front and back. There was no way she could have kept this diape hidden beneath her pants, and she lifted her head up to gaze down at herself, shame and humiliation warring with comfort and arousal inside her, threatening to tear her apart. Again she was hoisted into the air, gasping and clenching her anus against the sudden shift in pressure. She could hold it for the moment... but Megan knew that she could only stave off the eruption for so long. The changing table sank into the floor, and Megan could detect new movement below.. but she was disoriented from being so quickly hoisted into the air and set down again. It wasn’t until she discovered herself strapped into the barber’s chair that she realized where she was, breaking out into a cold sweat. She protested uselessly from behind her pacifier, struggling fiercely against her bonds... especially when she heard the sound of clippers activating behind her. “Ummmph uummpph!” Megan grunted, whipping her head back and forth frantically. Inside, her bowels were still full and percolating, and she tightened her tushy, redoubling her efforts to hold off an accident. The mechanical hands descended upon her once again, clamping her in place gently but firmly... sweat beaded down her face, the menacing hum growing louder and louder as they got closer... “UUUHHHHH!” she cried, straining uselessly against her bonds, the humming joined by a thunderous grind as the clippers took the first strip of hair from her scalp with a painless tugging sensation. But her struggles were in vain, achieving little more than making her perfectly formed tits jiggle. The automatons went about their job with their usual mechanized perfection... now it was Megan, who earlier that day had so gleefully robbed her victim of both her beautiful, flowing hair and her adulthood, who was on the receiving end... but she was in no mood for irony. Tears flowed down her face and she howled with fury and humiliation, hating her comeuppance all the more because of the knowledge that she deserved every second of it. Megan watched her beautiful black hair fall lightly to the floor, raining about her shoulders. Soon the clippers were retracted and she was presented with a series of mirrors so she could see her gleaming bare scalp from every angle. Behind her pacifier, Megan let out a piercing scream. She was even balder than Becky, her head gleaming in the light of the nursery... seeing how thoroughly she’d been infantilized, and how completely she’d been given a taste of her own medicine, Megan lost control of her emotions, screaming and crying behind her pacifier. The situation was everything she’d both dreaded and fantasized about. Her adulthood had been revoked, and even if she had been able to contact anyone on the outside, they might not even believe she was who she said she was anymore. She clenched her buttocks, barely holding back her enema now. She knew that the longer she held it, the more sloppy the mess would be, but she couldn’t help clinging to the last scrap of her dignity, though whether she was stubbornly holding onto her adult identity or trying to heighten her eventual erotic humiliation she could no longer tell. My Patreon