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Parker Longabaugh

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About Parker Longabaugh

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  1. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    Thanks to everyone who's commentes thus far. If you pledge more than $8 on Patreon, click here to take the poll and decide what happens next... and don't forget to visit my blog for more great stuff. “A diaper change, huh?” Nurse Diane said with a throaty chuckle that sent shivers down Miley’s spine. “Well, let me ask you something, stinky pants,” she said, settling into a nearby chair. “What’s in it for me?” Still staring at the wall with her adorable, upturned nose fixed firmly in the corner, her diaper all hot and muddy and stinky behind her, Miley huffed, annoyed. After all, it wasn’t as though she was in a position to be offering much. Or was that the whole point… to dangle a bit of hope in front of her face before humiliating her even further? She realized she had to take the bait. “What do you want?” She asked, trying to keep the bratty, entitled annoyance from her voice. After all, she was a star-- she shouldn’t have to stoop to bargaining. Her answer came in the form of another sensual, throaty laugh from behind. “You do look so cute in that loaded little diaper,” she said, with no small amount of amusement, “but baby, you are STINK-Y!” she chuckled, and Miley reddened and squirmed in the corner, still wondering exactly what the woman wanted with her. “Turn around,” Nurse Diane said. Miley complied, and was a little startled to see the nurse sitting with her legs wide open and one hand down the front of her skirt clearly masturbating at the sight of Miley in her dirty pampers. The thought made the usually unprudish pop princess blush right down to her toes, and she was suddenly vividly aware of the hot, heavy load in her pants, mushing up against her tight little butt with every little movement and cloaking her in a light, but potent stink-cloud. “Come over here,” Diane smiled, beckoning with her free hand, “and come sit in my lap.” Reluctantly, Miley waddled over, her bulging, messy diaper squishing up against her derriere with every step. She stood in front of the nurse, who looked her up and down with a hungry smile that made Miley very nervous. “Come sit in my lap, honey bunny,” Diane said, patting her sleek, nylon encased thighs. Seemingly without any other option, Miley stiffly waddled over, turned, and slowly lowered herself into Diane’s lap, groaning to herself as the thick, mushy dump in her pants squishing audibly as it compressed slowly between Diane’s soft lap and her own shapely buttocks. “Ugh,” she groaned to herself, trying to remain still to minimize the squishing. Diane wrapped her arms around her and pulled her in close, drawing a gasp from Miley as the mess in her pants was mushed against her buns, spurting up her crack and going into every nook and cranny. The naughty nurse wrapped her up in a strong, warm embrace, bending in close to nuzzle her cheek. Miley breathed hard and shivered, Diane’s arms tightening around her, pinning her in place. “Isn’t this nice?” she whispered, leaning in to kiss the nape of her neck. Squirming her butt in the big messy mud pie in her pants, Miley wasn’t sure she agreed, but Diane didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve wanted to get my hands on you for quite some time, young lady,” she whispered, nibbling on Miley’s ear. “You just looked so hot in your little diapers in your video,” she husked, one hand cupping one of Miley’s breast through her onsie, the other trailing down towards her crotch. Miley opened her mouth to protest, then hesitated when Diane began rubbing her pussy, slowly but firmly through the front of the diaper. Soon, Miley had relaxed, and she found herself squirming eagerly, cringing as she mushed the mess in her seat around but desperate to get closer to Diane’s probing fingers. “Oh, baby likes this, doesn’t she?” Diane asked with a knowing grin. Miley just gurgled heartily in response. “But this is supposed to be about what YOU can do for ME, isn’t it, darling?” Miley groaned and found herself reluctantly lowered to the floor. Miley pouted and watched from the floor as Diane rose in her seat, tugged down her panties and shimmied them down to the floor. She planted herself back in the chair and spread her legs as wide as they would go. “Why don’t you show me just how bad you want that diaper change, honey-bunch,” she said with a sexy smile, beckoning towards the disgraced pop princess. Getting up on all fours, Miley crawled across the floor, her dirty, squishy diaper wobbling in the air behind her. Inside her heart was pounding, and she knew she should be outraged… but there was just something about the situation… forced to please this naughty nurse while wearing her filthy pampers… that stirred something perverse deep inside of her. She inched her way closer and closer-- Diane hiked up her skirt to allow Miley easier access. The diva didn’t hesitate for a moment… she simply dove right in, kissing and licking the nurse’s immaculate privates, probing her warm wet slit with her tongue and sucking the throbbing nubbin of her clit. Diane purred approvingly, running her fingers through Miley’s hair. “That’s right baby,” she moaned softly. “Just like that… that’s what nursey likes!” Miley found her rhythm, her head bobbing with every gentle lap of her tongue. Behind her, the massively inflated seat of her dirty diaper waggled in the air behind her ever so slightly, the heavy load causing the seat to sag at the back. “Oh! Oh my!” Diane husked. “What a clever baby you are… almost as clever as you are cute, but,” she crinkled her nose and fanned her face teasingly, “baby, you sure do STINK!” Miley flushed with embarrassment… which didn’t stop her pussy from growing even wetter, the humiliation of her situation stoking the fires of arousal inside her. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching up between her legs and rubbing her diaper against her pussy, her tongue promising and her lips smacking. It wasn’t long before the naughty nurse Diane came to a shuttering climax. Soon, when both Miley and Nurse Diane had cleaned up and straightened their clothes, Miley sporting a fresh, new diaper, they strolled into Ms. Smythe’s office. With her was Nurse Julie and Trixie (who was grinning smugly at Miley, sensing trouble in the offing.) Miley was ordered to sit in front of the Head Matron’s desk. She lowered her thickly padded diaper-butt, still stinging from her spanking, into the seat. Her pussy was still tingling, filling her limbs with nervous sexual energy, and she was having trouble focusing on what was being said. “Well, young lady,” Said Ms. Smythe smoothly. “I certainly didn’t expect to see you back here so quickly. I thought I had imparted the importance of following the rules to you, but apparently I was mistaken,” she said sadly. “It’s almost as though you didn’t even try to behave yourself! I’ve got a good mind to send you back to the newborn ward… however, I’ve decided to be lenient. You won’t have your age status reduce… however, your potty privileges are hereby suspended until further notice-- and between you and me, young lady? It’s going to be a long time before your little hiney sits on any kind of toilet seat again, young lady!” Miley was simultaneously relieved and horrified. She was relieved she’d avoided being reduced further in age status, especially to the level of a newborn… but the thought of being stuck using her diapers for God knew how long sent delicious shivers down her spine. Trixie was watching Miley squirm with a superior smirk on her face, sadistically relishing her demotion in status, slight though it may have been. But she wasn’t smiling for long-- Ms. Smythe fixed her burning, sardonic smile that froze her blood. “I’m glad you find this so amusing, dear… because I’m holding you responsible for her little escape.” “What?!” Trixie cried, outraged. “But… why?!” “You were the one in charge, weren’t you? You were supposed to be watching little Miley here… after all, she’s too young to know any better, right?” Trixie gaped and stammered, trying in vain to justify herself. “But… I… she...” But Alice Smythe just grinned at her like a cat looking at a mouse. “No ‘buts’ Trixie. No wriggling out of this one, young woman. Time to take your punishment.” What should Trixie’s punishment be? A spanking and corner time (keeps student helper status) Age status reduced to four (with pull-ups, loses student helper status) Age status reduced to two (diapers, no potty training, loses student helper status) Click here to vote now!
  2. Dr. Barbie (Patreon Preview)

    Below is the first two chapters of my now complete, 14 mental regression/adult baby story: basically, it's kind of a throwback to 50’s sci-fi/horror movies like The Blob, where a small town is menaced by a threat from space (in this case, one that mentally regresses women.) I was also planing on doing some other stories in this setting as the women of the town are slowly transformed into horny Adult Babies. You can see the rest of the story for a $5 pledge on Patreon. Also check out my blog for more stories and other great stuff. Prologue Long ago, in the language of their creators, they had been called The Colony: a collective of nanomachines encased in a metallic sphere, which was then encircled with a hard, rock-like outer shell, then launched into space by their makers. Tasked with seeking out uninhabited worlds to terraform and make ready for their creators while they made the long journey through space... by the time they arrived in their ships after spending centuries in suspended animation, the planet would be perfectly adjusted and ready to be settled. They were carefully sealed into their protective sphere, their trajectory carefully calculated, and The Colony was launched, just like every other nano-construction unit, hurtling off into the vastness of space towards a goal they wouldn’t reach for hundreds of years. But then, something unexpected... The Colony was knocked off course by a small asteroid. Damaged, they hurtled through space at fantastic speeds, farther from their original destination every second. And so they drifted through space, aimless, forgotten... until, after countless centuries, despite improbable odds, they finally came to rest on a small, blue world orbiting a fresh, yellow sun in a little known star system on the far side of the galaxy, just outside the town of Shady Grove, USA... Chapter One “This is absolutely incredible,” Barbara whispered to herself. Although the specimen in front of her appeared to be another run-of-the-mill space rock comprised largely of silicate minerals, the type she’d been studying through her entire career, a closer inspection revealed this to be some type of hard shell over a smooth metallic interior. She’d chipped away, revealing a small silver orb... something that definitely didn’t look natural. Her heart thumped in her chest, her mind filled with a thousand questions-- where did it come from, who had made it, and, most importantly, what was it for? “Did you notice the material?” Asked Dan, a fellow researcher. “We’re still waiting on an analysis, but I can tell you right now that it’s nothing that appears in nature.” “Look at the shape of it,” she exclaimed, uncovering more of the shiny metal object. “Look at how perfect the curvature is!” “It had to have been manufactured,” he agreed. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Barbara turned and looked at him over the frames of her glasses, her soft, heart-shaped face aglow in the low light of the lab. “Let’s not get too excited just yet,” she concluded, “But if we’re right-- if this isn’t just some joke...” she smiled excitedly. He returned it... it was at times like this that he was reminded how beautiful she really was beneath her lab-coat and horn-rimmed glasses. Generally, Dr. Cartwright was a very serious woman, very intense and uptight-- Dan was happy to see her relaxed for a change. Somewhat impulsively, he decided to take advantage of her good mood and try, one more time, to wrangle a date with his pretty coworker. “How about a drink?” he asked, proud of how casual he sounded. But one look at her face and he instantly regretted it... the pretty smile fell and her usual emotionless mask took it’s place. “Oh Dan,” she sighed, rising from her seat and crossing the lab to gaze out the window at the starry night sky. “We’ve been over this before-- I care for you so much, but... I’m simply not ready to put my career on hold to pursue a relationship yet...” It was exactly the same little speech he’d heard before, and Dan, not for the first time, wondered the real reason his pretty co-worker was turning down his advances. He knew enough to know that there was chemistry between them, he was sure she felt the same way about him... yet something always held her back, preventing her from expressing what she really felt. “C’mon Barbie...” “Don’t call me that!” she snapped, instantly regretting it. She’d hated that nickname since she was a child, and as a serious, professional woman who had sometime struggled to be taken seriously, she’d become sensitive about it. But the last thing she wanted was to hurt Dan, and when she saw the expression on his face, she knew she’d stung him. “Besides,” she said, softening, her excitement overtaking her again,“I’ve got more work to do! I can’t stop now!” Dan nodded, kicking himself for ruining the moment. “Is there anything you want my help with, Doctor?” Barbara looked back at him, guilty. She really did like Dan, and he was very attractive. If only... “No, thank you Dan. But do you mind coming back tomorrow to help me collate my results?” “Sure,” he said, forcing a smile. “Bright and early-- I’ll bring coffee.” He rose and crossed over to the door. “Thanks Dan,” Barbara called after him, watching him go, regretfully. Why can’t I just be normal? She cursed herself, not for the first time. Because although there was a definite attraction between them, and although Barbara often dreamed about being with him, Dr. Cartwright had a secret... one that she’d never revealed to anyone... A secret kink... one so shameful, the brainy Barbara knew she would die if anyone found out. And even as she took a scraping from the metal orb and prepared it for analysis, Barbra found her desire simmering. She just couldn’t get Dan out of her head-- If only he knew all the naughty things she really wanted to do with him... She set the computers, slipped her sample into the machine, and got the tests running. Once she had everything ready, she headed towards her laptop. She entered her password and made a bee-line to the encrypted folder marked “bills,” chewing her lip guiltily. She only had a short time to kill until the analysis was finished, so this would have to be a brief indulgence... she clicked her way through to her movie folder and fell into a wonderful world of infantilization. Barbara couldn't remember exactly when her obsession with diapers and mental regression began... ever since she could remember, Barbara was a little smarter and more mature than her peers-- and the whole time, she nursed the same strange, nameless, irrational fear that she would loose it-- that her dignity, her identity, all her hard earned intelligence would somehow be stripped from her and she’d be sent back to the nursery, forced to dress and play with babies-- and, of course, wear diapers. Sometimes, the idea consumed her-- sometime she lay awake at night, paralyzed by the idea that she would wake up unable to walk or talk, to read, write, use the toilet or do any of the things she’d worked so hard to achieve in her life. She imagined what would happen next, how her friends and family would react, and what the boys she had crushes on would say or do if they saw her in such a state. Barbra grew older... her phobia took on a strange, new dimension as her sexuality began to blossom, her fears beginning to take on a lusty dimension. Brainy Barbra, nerdy but beautiful, imagined what it would be like to lose her status entirely-- to be reduced to the level of an infant, unable to walk or communicate or control her bodily functions, but still fully aware and intact inside her body... she thought about her handsome male teachers, or about being babysat by some of the cute boys in her class... sometimes, she even found herself fantasizing about being adopted by some of her parent’s handsome friends and their wives. In her regression fantasies, Barbara found a way to release her inhibitions in a way she found impossible in real life. Though she was incredibly pretty, Barbara was painfully shy, and she had a very hard time relaxing around people-- a problem exacerbated by her unusual kink, which she could never reveal. In her fantasies, Barbara had her inhibitions stripped away along with her status and her intelligence. She became an Adult Baby seductress, so physically alluring that no man could resist-- and so adept at sex that no man could leave her once he’d succumb to temptation. Barbara dated around here and there, and she’d occasionally had a good time-- but there was still nothing more satisfying than the nights when she poured a glass of wine, put on one of the big disposable adult diapers she’d bought off Amazon, and brought herself to a climax while browsing her favorite websites, looking at her favorite pictures, or watching her favorite clips. She loved and obsessed over the elaborate re-creation of the clothing and props of childhood, like the clips she found on AB Dreams or AdultBaby.XXX... but she had a definite thirst for the dirtier side of diaper play, and she also frequented sites like Diaper Mess and Diapered Online, with their focus on wetting, messing, and punishments. Sometimes she just watched, studying the models and their interactions with the props, and their reactions to the punishments they received. Most often, however, Barbara imagined it was her wearing those delicately embarrassing baby clothes, her having her bare bottom spanked before being put down in the crib for a nap-- and her squatting down to uncontrollably fill an obvious, bulging diaper with a hot, muddy mess... She scanned her hard drive, browsing her collection, already horny before she made her selection. She started the clip, slid her hand down her panties, and prepared to relieve a little tension. The Colony was intact... they knew that much. A quick scan revealed that they had successfully landed, and diagnostics disclosed that they were still 100% functional. But their memory was severely damaged, most of what had come before the crash had been lost. Their point of origin, their purpose, their creators and their intentions... all had been forgotten. All they knew was that they were whole and fully operational. But what operation were they to perform? The Colony reached out from inside the casing they had travelled within for eons, invisible in the darkness of the lab. They followed the wireless signals across the room, towards their source at Barbara’s laptop. They became aware of her heat-signature and decided to begin a scan... and so, while half of The Colony went to inspect the primitive communication device, to help gain a better understanding of this planet and it’s inhabitants, the others went to inspect the creature itself, to find out more about it’s physiology. And so, as half of the nanites slipped undetected into the machine, the other half slipped into Barbara herself. She was watching one of her favorite clips: an unfortunate young lass was across her “daddy’s” lap, getting her just desserts in the form of a spanking. Soon, she’d be carried over to the changing table. She’d be stripped naked and slathered with oil. He’d powder her, then pat it in with his strong, masculine hand, then tug the diaper up between her legs and tape it up tight around her waist, sealing the naughty little brat in diapers with a sore, red bottom. And the entire time, all Barbara could do was wish that it was her laying across his lap with her tushy turning red... her laying naked on the table, being powdered like a two year old, her being taped up in diapers, and her having everything that defined her as an adult in control of her life utterly stripped away, leaving her at Daddy’s mercy. Barbara was rubbing herself furiously now, shivering and groaning and wishing desperately that is was she who was being regressed and cared for by daddy, wishing to be relieved of all her responsibilities, the burden of her intelligence and dignity, and just be taken care of... and all the sexy things she could do for her new daddy in exchange. The diaper was taped closed-- on the table, the big baby was pouting, but Daddy pulled her into a sitting position and wrapped her up into a big warm hug, which babykins reluctantly returned. And Barbara, even on the verge of an orgasm, was moved almost to tears... what would she give to be safe and warm in Dan’s arms like that right now? Wrapped up all nice and tight in a soft, fluffy diaper, ready to just lay back and be taken care of by a handsome, capable man. Barbara wanted it so bad she could practically taste it. The Colony studied the specimen, the contents of her laptop, and her reaction to it extremely carefully. The content on the laptop (as well as the various hubs that she accessed on the primitive wireless communication network the natives seemed to refer to as “the web”) seemed to suggest that it was natural for females of the dominant species of this planet to “regress,” or revert mentally/socially to a much younger status or state of being. And judging by the reactions of their research subject, this was a highly desirable situation-- her pulse was quickening, her hormones were raging through her, her sex organs engorged and lubricated. Her brain was a raging storm of chemistry and electricity, and it was a simple thing for The Colony to read the tides: she liked what she was seeing and she wanted it very much. It was, of course, well within The Colony’s ability to grant these wishes... but should they? Could this have been the purpose they had been created for? Their damaged and broken memory offered no insights. Granted the capacity to understand and, to a degree, empathize with emotions, The Colony found themselves moved by the depth of this being’s desire to experience the phenomenon called “regression.” Their damaged memory contained no guidelines or ethical codes that covered this situation. Enacting change against living beings was not within their original protocols, which is why the nano-colonies were dispatched to barren, lifeless worlds. The Colony, however had no memory of this. Their decision was reached within seconds. Having seen enough, The Colony recalled the part of itself it had sent to inspect the laptop. Gathering in a cloud around the still oblivious Barbara, they began to power up, using hydrogen molecules from the air to provide energy for their tools. As they activated their instruments, they began to glow, filling the air with an eerie pink light. It wasn’t until after her orgasm that Barbara realized that there was something strange going on. She sat in the afterglow, grinning, her skin tingling. She sighed, and was about to go to the bathroom to fix herself up before checking the results of her analysis when she realized a strange, glowing mist had descended over the room. Her mouth fell open, and she stared in awe at the hauntingly beautiful scene before her. What could have possibly caused such a phenomenon? She reached out, trailing her hand through the mist, smiling as it swirled around her fingers. An ominous buzzing filled the air, and Barbara noticed small, arching blue electrical discharges in the air as The Colony prepared to begin their work. Barbara spun slowly in her chair, realizing with growing apprehension that this pink mist, whatever it was, was all around her... and it seemed to be gathering energy for something. An eerie, flickering blue light began rippling through the mist, and Barbara smelled ozone and heard the distant, static crackle of building electricity. She was beginning to feel frightened now, although at a lower level than she would have expected. She slowly made her way across the room, towards the door. She could see tiny flickers of electricity snapping in the air-- bolts of miniature lightning arching between individual units of The Colony as they closed in, ready to begin making their changes. The Colony tightened around her, tiny bolts of electrical energy flickering around her like a net, and Barbara cringed and flinched in place. A sharp static shock stung her backside, making her squeal. A cold, tickley tingle spread out across the lower half of her body. Barbara looked down and gasped when she saw dozens of tiny blue tongues of static electricity licking her, snapping against her nylon covered legs and the back and front of her skirt. Barbara became aware of a slow shrinking sensation... a quick glance downward revealed that her shoes were melting into a black puddle around her feet as The Colony disassembled them on a molecular level, reducing them to raw components. She emitted a choked cry when she noted that her nylons were disappearing from her legs, melting away in ever expanding patches until her legs were bare. The skirt came next-- Barbara gasped when she saw it unravelling, turning to dust before her eyes. She instinctively reached down to grasp it, then realized her mistake when it crumbled and ran through her fingers like sand. Meanwhile, the effect was spreading... Barbara realized that her blouse was now being attacked, and the air around her head was glowing ominously. The skirt and blouse quickly joined the rapidly growing pile of debris on the floor, and Barbara blushed when she found herself in her underwear in the middle of the room, absurdly reaching down to cover herself, shrieking when her bra and panties were quickly broken down into nothing in much the same way as the rest of her clothes. But Barbara soon had bigger worries-- the air around her head was crackling with sinister blue energy, and she flinched, feeling the pins in her hair vanish into thin air. Her bun collapsed, her long blond hair cascading down across her bare shoulders alluringly. The Colony examined her glasses carefully, realized their corrective function, and quickly disassembled them, making a note to give the subject’s vision a tune up during the next phase of the operation. For a brief moment Barbara stood in the centre of the lab, nude, ethereal in the soft pink and blue light. She might have had a haunting, supernatural quality... if it wasn’t for the look of silly outrage on her face and her comedic attempts at covering her nudity. “Ohhh! What is this?! What’s happening?!” she cried, verging on shrill. There was, of course, no answer, save for the slow build-up of blue light, accompanied by that eerie crackling and that hit of ozone. Again Dr. Cartwright found herself surrounded by that snapping static electricity, squeaking and squealing in terror, horrifying visions of being disintegrated like her clothing dancing in her head. She became aware of a strange hum within her own brain, was overcome with a sudden giddy disconnect, as though she’d been hit with a surge of endorphins. The Colony had finished the examination of her body, and knew exactly what modifications they were going to make, ranging from major to minor... however, they knew enough about their subject now to be able to make the transition a smooth one, and they began at the brain. Instantly, Barbara became light-headed. Her fear was rapidly dissipating, and she was filled with a tingling, pleasurable sensation. Faintly, her rational mind became aware that gaps in her memory were forming-- that like a character in one of the stories she enjoyed reading, she appeared to be losing her adult faculties and was reverting to a child-like state... and although some distant part of her was aware that she was finally encountering what she had feared and lusted after for so long, her dwindling intellect was more engaged by the pretty pink fog and shimmering blue lights that surrounded her. Her knees became week beneath her, and her heart lept with fear when she felt them give beneath her, as though she lacked the energy and the knowledge to remain standing. But she didn’t fall-- she found herself held aloft by some strange force, which then actually lifted her naked body into the air in the centre of the lab. She hovered like that, bare and goose-pimpled, giggling, tickled all over by tiny static electric fingers. Inside, a strange, warm, pleasurable feeling was building as The Colony rebuilt her body and re-wired her brain to make her more in line with her desires. Barbara felt it all disappearing-- all her hard-won knowledge, her education, her sense of proper adult behaviour was crumbling to dust as surely as her clothes had. Her fears were coming true... and that fact was making her hornier than she’d ever been. The pile of raw materials on the floor below her were raised into the air and began to swirl and dance around her. Barbara gasped when she felt the particles beginning to collect around her waist and between her legs, knitting themselves together into a totally new shape. It grew thicker and bulkier by the minute, and Barbara let out a delighted squeal and kicked her feet happily when she realized it was a diaper growing thick and fat between her legs. The particles swirled about her, twinkling magically in the pink and blue light, tickling madly as it passed across the bare skin of her tummy and underarms, arranging themselves into a soft, gauzy, pink cotton baby dress-- an exact replica, she realized with her diminishing intellect, of the one the girl in the video was wearing. She gurgled approvingly behind a pacifier that grew in the air in front of her and pushed itself softly between her willing lips. Barbara sucked eagerly, reclining and relaxing in midair, watching with childish fascination as her hair was banded into pigtails with silky pink ribbons and a pair of comfy baby-booties formed on her feet. Meanwhile, The Colony was finishing their work inside her, her brain re-wired and moulded into a similar state she had as a toddler, while her bladder and bowel control was reduced to practically nothing-- all with a pleasant, warm tingle that Barbara was thoroughly enjoying. She floated in the air, bright eyed and drooling, her vocabulary disappearing right out from underneath her as she struggled to find the right words to describe her experience, until she was left with the most basic possible set of words like warm, pretty, and bright. Her education was gone, her memory was full of holes, and her identity had been totally re-written-- she had a basic, infantile mind in the body of a lusty young woman-- Barbara had truly become the baby-brained bimbo she’d always both feared and fantasized about becoming. She gurgled and sucked her pacifier happily, barely noticing that she was wetting her diaper until it was good and damp beneath her. She giggled and kicked her feet happily, enjoying the soggy warmth between her thighs. Around her, The Colony sparked and twinkled. They’d done a good job with their subject-- but the environment was insufficiently suited to her needs, and their research revealed that several changes would be necessary before the subject’s requirements could be met. Slowly, they reached out, the flicker of blue light filling the air once more. Baby Barbie giggled and kicked her feet in the air, cooing softly to herself as the pretty lights flashed and snapped and started breaking down the lab equipment in much the same way they had her silly adult clothes... Chapter Two “What the hell?” Dan said softly to himself, climbing out of his car to stand stupidly in front of the lab with a cup of coffee in both hands. From inside the building, there were strange pink and blue lights were swirling in the windows, and there was a strange noise from within-- the hissing crackle of electricity backed by a strange, omnipresent humming. He approached cautiously, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening inside through the window, but the light was too bright-- whatever it was, it seemed to fill the room. Through the window, Dan couldn’t pinpoint the source... it seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. What could be the source of the phenomenon? Perhaps Dr. Cartwright had... He kicked himself for not thinking of it earlier... Was Barbara still in there? Was she in danger? He rushed around to the front door, but the knob wouldn’t move-- he’d locked it before he left. He dug around in his pocket for his keys, cursing himself the whole time. The light was leaking out from under the door, it was pouring from the keyhole and any other crack and crevice in the entire building at once... and then, suddenly, moments before the key hit the lock, it was gone, the light vanishing along with the hum, leaving an eerie silence in it’s wake. Slowly, with great caution, he unlocked the door and slipped inside. Barbie was sleeping soundly in her crib when she heard the door open. Instantly, she burrowed under her blanket, peering out between the bars through a crack in the fabric to watch the shadowy figure enter blindly into the darkness of the former lab. She quickly recognized Dan and pulled the covers over herself with a giggle. In her diminished mind, she was already plotting a wonderful trick to play on him. She pulled the blanked tightly around herself, giggling softly when she heard footsteps approaching. Everything was different-- he learned that quickly enough when he almost tripped over something soft on the floor... a fuzzy lump that definitely wasn’t there when he left. Dan bent down to see what it was-- he quickly realized it was a stuffed bear. He didn’t have time to puzzle over it... his attention was quickly drawn towards a strange, out of place noise on the other side of the room... one that sounded suspiciously like stifled laughter. “Hello?” Dan asked tentatively. His call was met with more stifled giggles. “Ow!” Dan cried, banging his shin on something... which was met with more chuckles from the darkness. Everything in the lab was out of place, and he was starting to wish he’d taken the time to turn the lights on. “Ah! Christ,” he muttered, tripping over another stupid toy. “Is this some dumb prank?” he asked suspiciously, scowling when the laughter came again. “It’s not funny, you know-- I could have broken my neck!” A high-pitched shriek of childish laughter greeted this statement, and Dan stood, puzzled. Although he’d never heard the laugh before, it did somehow sound familiar. “Who is that?” he asked tentatively, receiving no answer as usual. At last, he was standing near the source of the laughter, which had subsided to heavy breathing and the occasional stifled giggle. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, and Dan could see a squirming lump beneath a soft flannel blanket, within some type of lattice he still couldn’t make out clearly. “Now I’ve got you, haven’t I?” he said rhetorically, reaching out to poke the blanket with his forefinger. He was rewarded with a sharp squeal-- whoever was beneath the blanket jolted at his touch and emitted a peel of laughter, and Dan was sure it was a woman now. Without any further hesitation, Dan reached out, took hold of the blanket and tugged it away with a sharp motion. Exposed, her blanket torn away, Barbie wasted no time. She popped up behind the rail of her crib like a Jack-In-The-Box, taking hold of the top rail as she all but shoved her face right into Dan’s, grinning eagerly at him. Startled, Dan took a half a step back, still not totally believing what he was seeing. The room was still dark, but he had no trouble making out Barbie’s face in the dim light... but her expression, a silly, happy, almost maniacal grin was one he’d never seen her wear before. And he’d definitely never seen her hair up in pig-tails before... what was going on? “Dr. Cartwright?” he asked tentatively, studying her face. “Is-- I mean... are you alright?” By way of answer, she bent forward suddenly and planted a big, wet kiss on his lips. His eyes bulged in shock-- it was the absolute last thing he could have predicted happening, especially after he got the cold shoulder the night before. When she finally pulled free with an amused giggle. Dan stared at her, shocked, as Dr Cartwright grinned and giggled mindlessly at him, twirling her pigtail absently with a finger. “Um... Barbara? What’s going on?” He stammered, receiving a hearty giggle for his troubles. Finally, he reached over and hit the light switch. The lab had been entirely changed, it’s formerly sterile environment of hard surfaces, plain tile floors, solid black and white colors, and advanced lab equipment transformed utterly beyond recognition. Dan found his feet sinking into soft carpet where none had existed before, the plain white walls replaced with colourful cartoon murals. Even the hard, buzzing florescent lights had been replaced with soft, 100 watt glows from unobtrusive white domes on the ceiling. But it would be several minutes before Dan would notice any of that. His attention was fixed on Dr. Cartwright. Like the room, she’d undergone a change since the last time he saw her... and the pigtails were only the beginning. Barbara was on her knees in a crib. It was absurd, but it was the only word Dan could think of to describe it-- a huge, adult sized crib... one of several lined up against the back wall. Her usual conservative pantsuit and lab-coat were gone, exchanged for a thin pink nighty that stopped just below the waist, revealing the bulging, ruffled rump underneath. She was wearing diapers! “Doctor... are you alright?” he repeated, not knowing what else to ask. In reply, she reached out towards him, her fingers snapping open and shut excitedly. “Up! Up!” She implored. Unsure, he slowly made his way over; Barbara squealed excitedly when he lowered the side rail of the crib (after fumbling with the latch for a minute) and reached out to pick her up. She practically leaped into his arms, wrapping her long bare legs around his waist and locking her arms around his neck. Dan stumbled, almost toppled, but quickly righted himself, wrapping one arm around Barbara’s back and slipping his other under her thickly diapered backside, which crinkled beneath his touch. If she noticed him stumble, Barbara didn’t say anything about it... she merely purred contentedly and nuzzled against his neck, making herself comfortable. He carried her awkwardly to an overstuffed easy chair in the corner and practically collapsed into it, Barbara giggling delightedly the entire time. He barely had time to think before Barbara was slathering wet, drooly kisses all over his face, cooing and mewing affectionately. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to enjoy it. It was what he’d been dreaming of ever since he’d met her... but there was something weird going on here. Dr. Cartwright was definitely not herself. “Bar-- Barbara?” He managed between her kisses. “Barbara... Sweetie?” He took her face gently in his hands and held it in place in front of him. She looked at him with happy but ultimately uncomprehending eyes. “Barbara... are you feeling alright?” “Mmm-hmm!” She replied, nodding her head before going in for another kiss. It took Dan a few moments to disengage himself so he could ask his next question: “What I mean is-- how did this happen? Do you remember how you got this way?” She stared at him for a long moment, and for a second he thought she hadn’t understood. Finally she looked up at him with her bright, innocent eyes and said matter of factly: “Bawbawa was boring. The pwetty lights made Bawbawa go away. Me Barbie now,” she told him, smiling excitedly, as though that explained everything. He was going to ask her a follow-up question, but she fixed him with a pouty, puppy dog expression. “I’m firsty,” she complained, looking at him expectantly. “Oh... uh... OK...” he said. First, he had to untangle himself from Barbie’s strangulating grip... which was no easy feat. He helped her to the floor, whhere she watched him intently was he made his way to the fridge on the far end of the lab, where the employees kept their lunches... or at least, they used to. It seemed to be the only thing that hadn't changed-- except that he was pretty sure it wasn’t filled with a shelf of baby bottles before. He selected one that looked like grape juice, and after smelling and tasting a bit for himself to make sure it was OK, he went back to his seat. Dan hadn’t even settled in again before Barbara, or Barbie, as she apparently now preferred, climbed up into his lap and reclined against him. She accepted the nipple with a grateful little smile, and settle in against his warm chest to drink it. He sat in the silence, trying to think, but all he could focus on were her huge brown eyes looking steadily up into his face... that, and her warm, shapely body pressed up against his... so pleasantly plump in all the right places... She sucked the bottle down quickly, and soon the bottle emptied with a hissing pop. He pulled the nipple from her mouth and was rewarded by a soft belch and giggle. She squirmed energetically in his lap adjusting herself to cuddle up against him and gaze into his eyes with an expression he could only describe as hungry-- and Dan was pretty sure it wasn’t food that was on her mind. She leaned in to kiss him again, and although he hesitated, he found in nearly impossible to resist. Inside, Dan was consumed with guilt and doubt; it was obvious that something had happened to Dr. Cartwright, something that altered her mind in some way. He had no idea of telling how in control of her own actions she was-- hell, from what he had seen, she’d somehow acquired the mentality of a four year old... if not slightly younger. How cognizant and in control of her own actions was she? Dan didn’t know... but as she planted wet, sloppy kisses all over his face, part of him couldn’t help but feel like he was taking advantage of her mental incompetence in some way. “Barbar-- er, Barbie, honey?” he finally managed, holding her gently but firmly in place by her shoulders. She grinned, apparently happy that he’d gotten her new name right. “We need to talk,” he started, sensing by her confused look that he was already losing her. He pressed on anyway: “I think we need to slow down a bit here, sweetie... We need to figure out what happened to you.” She tilted her head quizzically. “What?” she asked sweetly. “What I mean is-- what can you tell me about the lights you saw before?” “‘Dey was pwetty!” She gurgled happily. “OK,” he said, unable to help smiling at her sweet innocence. “Did... did you feel funny at all? “It was all tickly,” she giggled conspiratorially. “Tickled on my inside,” she said with a cheeky giggle, reaching down to pat the front of her diaper to show him where. A picture was starting to form, but Dan was still almost entirely in the dark... and then it occurred to him... the thing that he’d actually, somehow, almost forgotten. “Barbie-- the sample-- do you remember the sample? Sweetie, can you tell me what happened to it?” But she wasn’t listening... a strange look suddenly clouded Barbie’s face, and at first he thought maybe she was in pain. Then he realized she was just concentrating on something, and Dan watched, mesmerized, as his colleague and not-so-secret crush spread her thighs and pissed her diaper with a loud, long hiss. Dan watched, his chin hanging open... it was impossible to see what was going on under the diaper, but there could be little doubt as to what was going on... especially when she opened her mouth and emitted an ecstatic “aaaahhhh!” She opened her eyes and smiled slowly, cuddling in close to him and said one small word. “Wet,” she proclaimed, spreading her legs and patting the front of her diaper suggestively. Patreon Babes In Diapers
  3. The Diaper Thief (Patreon Preview)

    I had this posted here before but it seems to have been lost during the purge, so here it is again. You can check out the rest of this story (we're nearing the end of "season on" now) on my Patreon for just a $5 pledge. “Kelly!” Her mom called from the laundry room, “can you come here a second?” The petite 18 year old bounded into the room, still fresh and excited off the last day of school a few days before. It was the beginning of her last summer before college, and she was looking forward to taking it easy before she went away in the fall. “What’s up, mom?” she asked casually, glancing at herself in the mirror with approval-- her tight shorts showed off almost the entirety of her bare legs and clung to her butt, the matching t-shirt hugging her skinny body alluringly. She stared at herself in the mirror, primping-- at barely 5” high and little over 100 pounds, Kelly was definitely on the shorter side at school, and she frequently felt self-conscious about her perceived skinny body and lack of curves... she made sure to dress to accentuate what little she had. “Honey, do me a favour,” her mom said, stuffing the wash into the dryer, “we got someone else’s package in the mail by mistake this morning... could you run it down the street for me?” “Aww, but mom,” Kelly pouted, “I was about to head to the mall...” Her mom rolled her eyes. “You can take it on the way!” her mother said, annoyed by her daughter’s indolence. “But mom!” Kelly whined, “I’ve got plans!” “Come on, Kelly, help me out please,” her mother said, exasperated, slamming the door on the dryer and turning it on. “Fine!” Kelly huffed, stomping her way up to the kitchen and grabbing the package off the table on her way out to the car. The house was just at the end of the block. Muttering to herself about the unfairness of the world, Kelly pulled up out front, and she was about to jump out and deliver the package when something caught her eye. “What th-? ‘Diapers.com’?” she read from the label. Who orders diapers off the internet? She thought to herself. With a bratty smile, she pealed a bit of the outer wrap off to get a better look, reading the name of the label: “‘Althea Abrams’...” Sounds like a little old lady, she thought. Obviously, someone’s grandma is in the market for protecive underpants, she snickered to herself. Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled one of the diapers out of the package and inspected it. It was certainly adult sized, and made of crinkly plastic... but what was with those little cartoon designs across the front? She realized it looked exactly like the Huggies she used to wear when she was still in diapers herself. Absently, she tossed it onto the back seat, opened the door, and went up the front walk, and finding no bell, she opened the screen and made to knock on the front door... Before she could touch it, it creaked open, revealing a cool, dark living room beyond. “Hello?” she called, stepping inside. It was quiet, and there didn’t seem to be anyone home. Kelly walked through the house without hesitation. “Hello? I’ve got your diaper delivery,” she said with a naughty little giggle. She headed into the kitchen, setting the package on the table before she turned to leave... and then she heard it. A strange groaning, coming from somewhere deeper inside the house. “Hello?” she said quietly, tracing the sound to a dark hallway. She heard it again, and cursed her luck. She didn’t want to be here any longer then she had to be... but what if someone was having a heart attack or something? This is so stupid, she fumed internally, I could be shopping right now, if it wasn’t for this stupid diaper delivery... Kelly heard the sound again along with something else... straining her ears, she realized that someone was talking. Again the sound... a persistent, guttural grunt, almost animalistic in nature, accompanied by a quiet, steady voice... she could almost make it out now, soft and sweet and gentle. Slowly she crept down the hallway, the low murmuring gradually becoming low voices: “... Can’t hold it much longer!” she heard someone say urgently, the tone high and whiny. The answer came back in a soft, sensuous voice she couldn’t make out except for the occasional word: “... right... just... bit longer... baby.” A low groan was the response, and Kelly was at the door now, close enough to hear the two voices in conversation. “Please!” Said the first voice, belonging to a girl Kelly estimated to be around her age. “Please let me mommy... I don’t think I can keep it in much longer!” she begged shrilly. “Just another moment, sweetie,” came the reply, the voice exquisitely feminine, soft and sweet, but also low and husky. “You want to show Mommy what a good girl you can be, right?” “Yyyeeeeesssss Mommy!” The girl said, her voice as strained and desperate as any Kelly had ever heard. She tip-toed up to the door, which wasn’t quite closed-- light and sound poured out into the hallway. As quietly as she could, Kelly pressed her back up against the wall and listened. “Just a little while longer, sweetie,” The woman said in response, and underneath it all was a soft, plastic crinkling that was familiar to Kelly in a very primal way. “Oh, Mommy, pleeeeassseeee!” The girl was literally begging now, the strain in her voice palatable. Kelly listened, her nervousness growing along with the girl’s desperation. She wanted to turn and get out of there... but another part of her just had to know... Bending down, she gave to door a gentle push, the crack growing into a slash. Hesitantly, tentatively, she peeked in... Straining her eye, Kelly could make out the pink and white colors of the décor, and against the far wall she could make out a crib. It was a nursery, she realized. There was nothing out of the ordinary-- except… On the floor she saw the girl, and Kelly knew she was right when she estimated her age… if anything, she was probably a few years older. She was spread out on all fours on the carpet, and she was naked-- except for the giant, puffy pink diaper that had been strapped to her bottom, which was stuck up in the air behind her, the plastic shining in the light like a beacon as the girl thrust her booty up and out behind her until it was pointing right at Kelly. The girl groaned softly to herself, hands balled into fists as though she was struggling to lift a great weight. “Shhhhh... that’s a good girl,” The woman said, her voice as soft and soothing as velvet. Her skin was the color of creamy coffee, and she was rubbing the seat of the girls thick diapers with a hand that was immaculately manicured, the nails long and red like fire. “You’ve been such a good girl for me... Mommy is so proud of you.” “Please, mommy,” the girl said, her voice quivering as she begged. Her pleas were met with an amused chuckle that make Kelly shiver. “Mommy is so proud of you, sweetheart,” The woman said, patting The girls diapered rump for emphasis. “Go ahead honey... you can let go now...” Instantly, a long, sharp hiss emerged from with in the girl’s diaper, followed by the soft pitter of liquid striking fabric... The girl emitted a powerful sigh of relief, and Kelly watched, mouth gaping, as the diaper started sagging between her legs. “That’s my good girl...” The woman said soothingly, rubbing and patting the girls pampered backside, the diaper getting thick and puffy between her creamy thighs. “If that all?” she asked when the stream had piddled to a stop, her tone knowing and amused. “Uh-uh,” the girl said, her voice shaky. “Do you have to make a mud-pie in your pants?” The woman asked, her eyes flickering wickedly. “Mmm-hhmmm!” The girl said emphatically, and Kelly noticed for the first time that the girl was clenching her buttocks tightly inside her diaper. “Go on honey,” the woman encouraged, a playful smirk playing about her lips, “make me a present in your pampers.” Kelly listened to the conversation, unable to believe what she was hearing... that girl wasn’t really going to... Her questioned was answered by a gassy rumble from within the nursery. Kelly’s mouth gaped, and she watched, mesmerized, horrified, as the girl began grunting softly to herself, spreading her thighs apart, sticking her diapered backside up into the air behind her. Kelly watched, fascinated, as the first lump plopped into the bulging seat of her diaper, followed swiftly by another and another... all under the watchful eye of the woman, who was grinning broadly, patting and rubbing the seat of the girl’s diaper, cooing sweet endearments in her ear. “That’s my girl,” she whispered, her voice rich and soft, watching her diaper fill with a lumpy mess. “Make a big load in those pampers for mommy to change.” The girl grunted in response, another farty rumble emerging... Kelly felt sick to her stomach when a gooey splattering sound emerged, the seat of the diaper bagging out and darkening before her eyes. The woman cooed endearments and patted the seat of her diapers with her soft hand with it’s perfectly painted nails, the girl grunting softly in response... A strong, earthy pong reached Kelly’s nose... she pushed it out with a loud snuff, adding in involuntary “EEW!” as she did, covering her nose and making a face. The two figures froze for a moment. The woman turned towards the door, a strange smile playing about her lips. “Is someone there?” Read chapter two now on Pateon!
  4. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    Huge thanks to all my Patreons for your continued support and to everyone who's sent notes left comments-- keep them coming if you're enjoying the story and you'd like to see more like it. If you pledge more than $8 don't forget to vote in our poll to determine what happens next... and if you haven't already, don't forget to check out my blog for more great stuff. “Come along,” Nurse Diane said, grabbing Miley by the ear and tugging her down the hall and into the nearby nursing station. “YEOW! Stop! Damn, that-- ow!-- that really hurts!” Miley complained, stooping over and following along as quickly as she could, her messy, dumpy diaper squishing and mushing against her backside with every step. “Uh! Ew! Gross!” she complained sourly, her dirty diaper mushing against her tight, round butt with every step. In The nurses office, Miley found herself tugged over a sexy woman’s lap for the second time in the space of a couple of hours, and she found herself kicking her legs behind her in a familiar pattern. Almost immediately, it got worse-- the nurse’s hand came down heavily on the seat of Miley’s bulging pampers. “Ahh! EEWW!” Miley cried, struggling and failing to escape from Nurse Diane’s lap. Although the diaper and the mess inside acted as a cushion against the swats, the impact splattered the muddy brown poo-poo against her butt-cheeks and mushed the stinky brown pile all around the inside of her pampers. SWAT-SWAT-SWAT! The sexy nurse Diane rained blows upon Miley’s squirming booty at a slow but deliberate pace, her rhythm steady, the swats firm, landing against the thickly padded tushy with an echoing pop. “Stop! Ew! St-op! Oh God… it’s getting everywhere!” Miley screeched, kicking her feet and clawing at the air, the hot, muddy mess in her pants smearing across her buttocks, mushing up her crack, and generally getting into every nook and cranny. Worse, the stench, previously largely concealed under layers of diapers and clothes, was beginning to emerge with a vengeance, a strong poopy smell quickly blanketing the room. Miley’s cheeks burned as she began to realize the full breadth of her embarrassing situation-- which was made all the worse when Nurse Diane began teasing her. “P-U!” she complained dramatically, bringing her palm down against Miley’s derriere with a muted splat. “That diaper is toxic, young lady! I’m going to have to speak to the kitchen staff about your diet!” she said sternly, firmly swatting Miley’s swollen backside once more. And just when Miley thought it couldn’t get any worse, she felt her bowels starting to act up again. Laying there, dangling over the knee of a sexy woman, her diaper already filled with a steaming hot load that was currently being thoroughly mushed against her by a spanking, Miley was forced to once again clench her butt-cheeks to avoid disgracing herself even further. Squeezing her buttocks as tightly as she could, Miley winced as the spanking began producing a sting, even through the extra layers of padding. She squirmed, struggling to control her bowels, and realized, to her horror, that she was getting turned on. Groaning, she squeezed her buttocks together and gritted her teeth against the spanks that were still raining down on her bulging, messy backside. She struggled not to rub herself against Diane’s muscular thigh, but she could still feel her pussy beginning to moisten and throb inside her dirty diaper. Diane was winding down the spanking, and she was about to stop when an enormous, mushy fart roared from inside Miley’s diaper. “Oh my!” Diane exclaimed, surprised and amused, watching with a superior smirk as the seat of the disgraced pop princess’ diaper visibly bulged another gooey load forcing it’s way out of her backside and into her already loaded pamper with a loud, gassy squish. “Young lady!” she uttered, faux scandalized, smirking as she continued spanking Miley, even as she continued pushing a fresh mess into the seat of her already full diaper. “Uh-- oh God… sssttoooppp!” Miley forced herself to protest, her eyes rolling back into her head as her shame and pleasure grew white hot inside of her. And just when she was moments away from a blinding orgasm, Miley found herself tumbled out of the Nurse’s lap, landing heavily on her bulging, messy diaper backside. “Ow! Eww! So gross!” She muttered, praying the nurse wouldn’t discover how hot and throbbing her pussy was. She pretended to be dazed while she subtly wriggled, squirming her butt in the hot mushy mess in her pants. “Quit your complaining, young lady!” Diane said, hauling Miley to her feet. “And I’d wipe that pout off your face as well, young woman-- we’ve got an appointment to see the Head Matron, and I don’t think she’s going to be very happy with you! You’ve only just arrived, and now you’ll be lucky if you don’t find yourself reassigned to the newborn ward!” The threat sent a shiver of fear down Miley’s spine. Thinking back to what she had just seen, the thought of having her age status reassigned sent a nervous quiver through Miley’s stomach, and before she knew it, she was involuntarily emptying her bowels again, her already packed diaper reaching the point of overflow. The Nurse just smiled. “Oh my! You really are nothing but a giant baby, aren’t you?” she smirked, laughing as Miley winced. “Come along, enough laying around-- It’s time to go see ms. Smythe… but first,” she said, taking Miley by the hand and leading her over to the corner of the room, “I think you’re due for a little corner time.” “Oh, come on-- yeow!” Miley cried sharply as Diane delivered an open-palmed swat to the seat of her bulging, messy pamper, squishing the load even further. “Don’t you back-talk, young woman!” Diane said firmly. “You plant that messy little bottom right there and don’t you dare move! I want you to think about how naughty you’ve been… and I want you to think about what Ms. Smythe is going to say when she hears about how you’ve behaved.” Miley sighed and resigned herself to her fate, placing her little button nose in the corner and staring into the paint. Her diaper was absurdly full, the load inside all warm and mushy and slimy up against the delicate skin of her buttocks. At the back, her diaper bulged absurdly behind her, as though her rump had swollen up like a medicine ball, the seat all lumpy and stained. The steaming, gooey load inside her pampers was heavy, and the bulky plastic undergarment sagged heavily behind her. All in all, Miley had been thoroughly humiliated, her power and status had been removed, and she felt for all the world like a bratty two year old banished to the corner after a big messy accident to await a fresh diaper change from her nanny. She had no idea how long she stood like that, her pampers saggy and stinky behind her, the load all warm and mushy, her spanked bottom sore and tingly. At last, Nurse Diane reappeared behind her, pinching her nose with a superior smirk. “Phew-wee! Your sure are stinky!” “Thanks for the newsflash,” Miley grumbled, well aware of the strong stench emanating from the seat of her diapers that had cocooned her. “Enough foolishness. Come Along… the Head Matron is quite eager to talk to you.” Miley winced and looked up at the nurse. “Can’t I at least get a diaper change before we go?” she pleaded, the mess in her diaper squishing with every move she made. What should Nurse Diane’s response be? “Yes, I’ll change your diaper” “No, I won’t change your diaper” “What’s in it for me?” Click here to vote now
  5. Vanquishing The Valkyries (New chapter added Jan. 26 2018)

    Glad you enjoyed it. The effects of the gas are only temporary, but don't worry... the Betas aren't done with the Valkyries yet. As for the Queen... let's just say she's not going to be so high-and-mighty for much longer. I also just wanted everyone to know that this story is going on a brief hiatus while LivingInfinite finishes off some other stuff, but we'll be back soon with the last couple of parts, so stay tuned.
  6. Vanquishing The Valkyries (New chapter added Jan. 26 2018)

    The short answer is that the Valkyries are very overconfident... as "superior human specimens," they don't believe the "weak" Betas pose a threat. Also, the Beta science is so advanced it's virtually undetectable, even by the Valkyries state of the art equipment. Once again, I'm not going to post the illustrations by LivingInfinite-- click here to check them out on my blog. Thanks again to all my amazing patrons for making this possible. Those who pledge $5 or more can click here to chick out the first part of my new series called Big Daddy-- an ABDL take on the Bloody Mary urban legend. The auditorium was arranged in a circle, seats on all sides surrounding a raised central stage. The presentation was convened with haste, technicians and Beta servants working hard to get the room ready in time for the Queen’s presentation. They went over every aspect of the audio system, making sure that everything was perfectly adjusted for Her Majesty’s speech. The lighting was tested, ensuring that the queen would be visible to everyone in the audience. The auditorium was cleaned and swept and polished until it shined. And while this was happening, a small team of Betas undertook one other task: placing a series of small gas canisters into the vents at the back of the room. When they received the signal, they would release their silent, odorless, colorless, utterly undetectable payload across the audience... And since their contents were heavier than oxygen, it would settle to the ground, leaving her Majesty herself unaffected... for her, Oolon had something very special planned. Although the event had been scheduled rather quickly, almost every Valkyrie who wasn’t currently on duty was in attendance, and the auditorium was filled to capacity with women of every rank and level of experience. More than half of those in attendance were in diapers, hidden beneath their uniforms if possible, bulging visibly, all puffy and blindingly white if they didn’t. Chit-chat was low and kept to a minimum... they all had some idea about what was coming, the smarter of them had been expecting it for weeks. The invasion of Tao-Beta 4 was the first Valkyrie operation in recent memory that hadn’t gone more or less exactly according to plan, and the reasons were almost too extraordinary to be believed... not to mention embarrassing. They chatted among themselves, many of them shifting nervously in their seats on crinkly, thickly padded butts as the last stragglers filed in, leaving nearly every seat in the house filled. As the Queen ascended the stage, the Betas filed out and closed the doors after them. Using hand-held welding lasers, the doors were sealed shut behind them... trapping the Valkyries inside. And as her Majesty took her place at centre stage, ready to begin, the signal was given, the canisters in the vents hissing open, the invisible vapor within slowly rolling out over the audience. With her chin thrust proudly into the air, her shoulders back, spine straight and chest thrust out proudly, the queen glared down upon the audience from her position on the stage, waiting until absolute silence had descended over the room before she began her presentation. “Ladies... warriors of the sacred Order of the Valkyries... it is my honour to appear before you today as your leader and commander,” she began, a traditional greeting she honoured but didn’t really believe in at the moment. “I wish I was appearing before you under better circumstances... first, onto the rumours-- yes, it is true that General Allura has been relieved of her duties as supreme commander of the invasion force.” Shocked whispering from the crowd rose up around the room-- everyone had assumed that it was only a matter of time before General Allura was removed from her post... but none could have predicted how quickly it would happen. Her Majesty raised her hand to call for order, which was quick to come. “It comes as a shock, I know... and since loyalty is the trait most highly prized by any Valkyrie warrior, I know that many of you will be upset by this decision... but believe me when I tell you that I’ve become privy to knowledge that made it clear that the General was the source of some of the recent lapses in discipline,” she said vaguely, crinkling her nose in distaste when she remembered the sound of the General’s thick, mushy bowel movement blorping out of her and splattering into the seat of her diaper... not to mention the stench that still hung in her nostrils. “And that brings me to the subject of today’s gathering-- the two most important characteristics for a Valkyrie warrior to possess-- discipline and dignity.” And as the Queen made her speech, her commanding voice filling the auditorium and capturing the attention of the troops, the invisible vapor continued seeping silently from their canisters and drifted dreamily out over the audience, aided by the gentle breeze of the air conditioning, until it filled the entire seating area, wafting between the rows, totally undetected by the troops even as they inhaled it, sucking it in and out of their lungs, totally oblivious as it made it’s way into their bodies and went to work. The nature of the gas was well known among the Beta resistance fighters... it was one of their most potent weapons, a weapon that had first been employed on the unfortunate Major Stallar during her dinner party disaster... and it had served the resistance well many time since then. It was one of their most brilliant creations: a potent laxative in gas form, a colourless, odourless vapor that caused anyone who inhaled it to almost instantaneously void their bowels. Even a small concentration was enough to cause an entire squad of elite Valkyrie commandos to lose control of their bowels mere moments after it had been introduced. Now, a thick cloud hung over the audience, undetectable to the naked eye... but the effects on the troops were becoming visible. It began with a simple feeling of fullness in the abdominal region that quickly gave way to a growing, crampy urgency, accompanied by rumbling gurgles in the pit of the stomach. In the audience, there were more than a few uncomfortable frowns, and much squirming and crossing and uncrossing of legs. Onstage, the queen noticed the increased wriggling and shifting in the crowd and scowled, chalking it up to boredom... another example of the steadily eroding discipline in this place, she decided, pressing on with her lecture. “... Discipline, ladies, is the foundation of our order, and dignity is it’s lifeblood. It is the discipline-- the control of one’s self-- that gives the warrior her grace and dignity which grants her the fighting spirit that makes our order the most feared power in the galaxy!” In the audience, nobody was listening anymore. The rows closest to the front were the last to be hit by the gas and therefore were only beginning to feel the sharp, stinging cramps in their bellies and an alarming, gassy bloat starting to settle in... but for the women in the back rows, who had been exposed to the vapour first and longest, the breaking point had been reached. Their desperation had appeared suddenly, built with alarming speed, and in a matter of minutes had turned from the normal urge to move their bowels to a frantic struggle to maintain control. Breaking ranks was utterly unthinkable-- it ran counter to all of their programming... so they sat there, sweat dripping down neatly chiselled features, gripping their arm rests with white knuckles, and squeezing their butt-cheeks together as tightly as they’d go. “I’m well aware of the... lapses in discipline that have been allowed on General Allura’s watch... and I have reason to believe those lapses started at the top and slowly seeped downward into the ranks. But make no mistake, ladies... playtime is over! From this day forward, I expect each and every one of you to conduct yourself with the utmost discipline and dignity!” And arriving on the end of this statement, like an exclamation point, a huge, noisy fart from the audience. The Queen frowned, the room going deadly silent. In the fifth row on the far right, a pretty brunette corporal with big brown eyes by the name of Lennox was turning red. She hadn’t been the first to pass gas... about a dozen officers and troops had quietly snuck one out, and the air in the audience was getting rather ripe. But poor Corporal Lennox had been the first one unlucky enough to accidentally blast one out loud, and she responded by gasping and clamping down as tightly as she could, lip quivering, worried that it may have been more than gas that had escaped into her pants. “Uh... as I was saying,” The Queen continued, flummoxed, but determined to finish. “The, uh, the new leadership will place an emphasis on--” Another fart roared out of the audience, this one on the opposite side of the room, towards the back. The beautiful, raven haired Captain Welles let out a gasp, the noisy, out-of-tune trumpet blast of her fart had brought with it a hot, mushy gush from her rear-end, which settled into the seat of her diaper. She froze in her seat, lips quivering, trying to hold perfectly still to avoid spreading the mess any further across her buttocks... and vividly aware that she still had a massive load bubbling away aggressively inside her. “Oh my!” The Queen exclaimed, reflexively covering her mouth. Her first instinct was to press on with her remarks and attempt to ignore the rude outbursts... but before she could begin, the was another noisy blast of flatulence... and then another and another. All throughout the auditorium, Valkyries were beginning to loose control of their bowels. In the ninth row, Stillson, a pale, blue eyed private with white blonde hair and elven features, could do nothing but sit rigidly and sob quietly to herself as she felt her sphincter fail, a sustained cramp squeezing out an uncontrollable gush of warm mush into the seat of her panties. Stillson couldn’t stop herself from loudly grunting, and she filled her britches with a noisy, gassy crackling. The Private, who had only just gotten off diaper discipline two days before, couldn’t help wishing for the comfort of a big, adult pamper now. But Major Xandra, sitting just three rows in front of Private Stillson, would have told her that the diaper didn’t make much of a difference. A proud woman, she had been mortified to her very core when the doctor had recommended the heaviest, most absorbent diapers on the market for her chronic accidents. Sitting there in her proud uniform, a chestful of medals won in fierce conflicts across the known universe and nothing but a massive, infantile diaper on the bottom, it thick plastic crinkling loudly with every step, she’d already had the uncomfortable sensation of being a young girl sitting in a preschool class and learning about the alphabet. Now, her continence had been pushed past the limit and she found herself farting out hot, steamy globs of poop into the seat of her diapers. She was strong enough to briefly regain control, only to have it lapse with another loud, wet fart, bringing with it another, larger instalment. She gripped the chair and gritted her teeth, loosing control by inches, the mess smearing across her backside. “Ladies, please try to control yourselves!” The Queen scolded onstage, pinching her nose shut, the earthy stench of messy diapers slowly rising over the entire auditorium. As if to prove the futility of this statement, Sargent Elam, a dusky skinned, dark eyed beauty admired by her squad mates for her strength and bravery, lifted her butt off the seat and exploded into her pants, the material sagging and darkening visibly behind her. The Sargent farted noisily, gripping the arm rests with white knuckles, her bowels contracting into a tight fist, squeezing out and uncontrollable urge that had her pants filled to the brim within moments. In all, the experiences of most of the women could be summed up in the thoughts of Lieutenant Barger, who, as she filled her diaper with round after round of hot mushy diarrhea, wondered how much shit the human body could hold-- and if it would ever stop. And as her guts cramped once more, her buttocks parting to accommodate another flatulent surge of muddy poop into her bulging, sagging adult pampers, she wondered if it was ever going to stop. “This is unacceptable!” The Queen was shouting from onstage, a course of farting and splattering answering her. “Where is your discipline?! Where in the galaxy is your dignity?!” For those gathered in the audience, uncontrollably shitting their pants and wallowing in it, the question of discipline and dignity had been entirely forgotten. It was Corporal Connelly, the diaper stuffed under her pants rapidly filling with a hot brown mess, who finally decided she’d had enough. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she waddled as quickly as she could towards the door, still messing her diaper in noisy eruptions. In a blind panic, mindlessly trying to escape the growing stench in the hall, she hit the doors at a frantic pace, taking the handle and giving it a pull, only to discover... “It’s stuck!” She cried, desperately tugging the handle, heart sinking when it didn’t even budge. “I can’t get out!” “This one too!” squealed Sargent Lawrence from across the room, futilely tugging the handle on the second exit, moments before her guts cramped and her butt opened once more to dump another load of mushy brown poopy into her pants. “Oh my God!” cried Private Stillson, the big brown stain on the seat of her uniform growing larger with each second as she scratched at the third and final exit, “we’re trapped!!” And with that, all of their conditioning and training, their poise, discipline, and dignity were totally forgotten, and the fearsome Valkyrie warriors, scourges of the universe, whose very names struck terror into the hearts of sentient beings across the galaxy were reduced to a bunch of squealing squabbling preschoolers in desperate need of some fresh diapers as they rushed to the doors to frantically bang and hammer at them, begging to be released.
  7. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    As always thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave comments-- and to all my amazing Patreon subscribers. Remember that if you pledge $8 or more you can click here to take the poll and decide what happens next in the story-- but either way, I hope you'll leave your opinion in the comments. Also, don't forget to check out my blog for more great stuff. A furnace was roaring in Miley’s guts, and the disgraced pop diva was sweating profusely. The pressure in her bowels was building, her stomach was bloated and rumbling, and it was only the frantic squeezing of her butt-cheeks, tightened and toned by hours of exercise, that was preventing a full-blown accident in her fluffy white diaper. She looked at Trixie, then back to the door, silently preying that Nurse Julie would return soon. But the more minutes ticked by on the clock, the bleaker the outlook became, and a crazy idea grew in Miley’s mind… a mad, half-delirious scheme, a last-ditch chance to save her dignity and deny her captors the satisfaction of making her into an overgrown baby-- at least for the moment. Before she even knew what she was doing, Miley was up on her hands and knees, crawling across the nursery floor, trying desperately to both keep her butt-cheeks together to avoid an accident and stay out of Trixie’s line of sight as she made her way over to the door. “What are you doing?!” Ava whispered urgently, but Miley just ignored her-- slowly, she crept towards the door on her hands and knees, the low rustle of her diaper thundering in her ears. Cautiously, Miley reached out and took hold of the knob, half expecting it wouldn’t turn, ending her escape before it began. But the handle turned, smoothly and easily, the door practically springing open on well oiled hinges. Miley took a look back over her shoulder-- “big sister” Trixie was tending to one of the other girls, and she had her back completely turned. There wouldn’t be a better opportunity, so without another moment of hesitation, Miley slipped out the crack and gently shut the door behind her. She crawled quietly for the first few meters, then climbed shakily to her feet, the diaper inside her onsie pushing her thighs apart, forcing her to waddle. Her pampers crinkled with every awkward step, and as the pressure inside her continued building, Miley found herself farting like crazy. She stepped up the pace, not knowing how much longer she could hold on. Miley baby-stepped down the hallway as quickly as her bulky diaper and tightly clenched buttocks would take her. She had no idea where she was going, rounding the corners blindly, letting chance guide her to the bathroom… and keep her from being spotted. A loud, bubbling fart rumbled her diapers, dangerously wet… Miley was forced to reach back and press her hand up against the seat of her onsie, pressing the padded seat of the diaper tightly to her buttcrack. Wiping the sweat from her forehead with her free hand, she pressed the other firmly against her tushy as she rounded another corner-- and nearly cried out in excitement when she spotted a ladies room at the end of the hall. Her stomach was gurgling audibly now, her butt spewing hot, noisy gas at random intervals, and it was starting to feel worryingly moist between her cheeks. Steady, step by step, the restroom got closer and closer, and Miley actually broke out into a smile… she was going to make it… she was actually going to make it! The door was so close she felt like she could almost reach out and touch it… A crisply dressed nurse suddenly appeared from around the corner coming face to face with her. Startled, Miley gasped and jumped back a bit, the momentary lapse in concentration causing her to loosen her cheeks just a little bit-- instantly, the floodgates were opened, and Miley stiffened and turned red as an involuntary surge of hot, muddy mush pushed it’s way out of her rear end with a loud, bubbly fart. She grunted and squeezed herself shut, clamping off the flow… but not before a sizable pile of smelly brown poopy had accumulated in the seat of her pampers, squishing up against her buttocks. “You’re not supposed to be out here,” the nurse said, hands on hips. “You’d better have a good reason for not being in class, sweetie,” she lectured sternly, “or else you’re going to be in a lot of trouble!” “I uh… Um...” Miley stood before the nurse, quivering and stammering like a little girl who’d just been caught red handed with her hand in the cookie jar. And before she could think of anything to say, her diapered butt answered for her, a ghastly, splattering farting sound emerged, Miley’s well-toned ass-cheeks parting to accommodate an uncontrollable gush of thick brown poo-poo into the back of her diapers. “Uuuhhhhh-hhhhuuuuhhhhhuuhhh!” She grunted, her embarrassment overshadowed by an earth-shattering, almost orgasmic relief. A cramp squeezed her guts, forcing out another round of chunky, flatulent diarrhea, the seat of her onsie bulging out visibly behind her. She felt like a tube of toothpaste, being squeezed in the middle by a giant fist, the contents of her bowels being pushed out at an almost continuous rate. At last, she sputtered to a stop, and Miley was left heaving for breath, her diaper loaded, saggy and stinking behind her. The sweaty, exhausted pop idol heaved for breath, the gooey mess in her pants clinging warmly to her buttocks and smearing up between her cheeks. “Just as I suspected!” The nurse said, her eyes narrowing. “Sneaking out to use the potty, eh, young lady? We know exactly what to d with bad girls like you...” What should Miley’s punishment be? A spanking Corner time A spanking, then corner time Let her go with a warning Click here to take the poll
  8. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    Sharp eyed readers will notice I've given the series a name change to better reflect the content of the story, but otherwise everything is still the same-- if you pledge $8 or more on Patreon, be sure to vote in our poll to determine what happen to Miley next! Also, be sure to check out my blog for more great stuff. Also, I'd like to say that you can definitely voice your opinion on the choices, even if you're not allowed to vote... I'd love to hear what everyone thinks regardless. Miley hesitated, her mind racing. She realized this would probably be her only opportunity to use the potty (apparently the only thing resembling a toilet she had even a hope of seeing right now)… but as she watched the other woman perch ridiculously atop an oversized children potty, farting and dumping without control, her cheeks bright red as she sat, panties at her ankles, one flatulent mess after another spattering loudly into the waterless depths below, she hesitated. Inside, the suppository was going to work, the urge to move her bowels were growing stronger with every moment-- but even the distant possibility of soiling herself seemed irrelevant to her at that moment… she simply couldn’t subject herself to that humiliation! With fury in her eyes, she looked right at Ms. Smythe and shook her head. Alice simply grinned fiendishly. “Very well,” she said, resuming her place behind the stroller. She said her goodbyes to her students and pushed Miley towards the door. As they exited the room. Miley’s belly made a strange gurgling sound… Miley clenched her butt-cheeks tightly against her rising desperation and wondered if she hadn’t made a mistake in not asking to use the potty before they left. “There’s just one more thing I need to show you, sweetie,” Ms Smythe said seriously, steering the stroller down a long hallway “and I want you to make sure you pay very close attention.” They entered another room, and Miley wasn’t surprised to see it was lined with cribs, changing tables, and diaper pails (which masked, but didn’t fully hide the omnipresent scent of wet and messy diapers.) “This is a very special place,” Ms. Smythe explained quietly. “It’s where we keep our most special residents,” she said ominously, rolling Miley into the room, until they were in front of one of the changing tables. Miley could see it was currently occupied by a young woman about her age, who was about to have a diaper changed by a sultry blond nurse in a uniform that hugged her curves and revealed her ample cleavage in a way that Miley was sure wasn’t regulation. “Good afternoon, Helga,” said Alice to the nurse, who flashed a perfect smile in their direction. “And to you, Ms Smythe,” she said pleasantly. “And who do we have here?” Helga asked with a grin, bending down to examine the occupant of the stroller. Miley blushed and looked away, unable to meet her gaze, self-conscious and embarrassed at being seen like this by such a mature, sexy woman. “This is our newest resident,” the head matron said. “I’ve brought Miley down here to the Newborn ward to she her what happens to girls who won’t cooperate.” “Well, I was just about to give this little stinky pants a much-needed messy pamper change!” The nurse baby talked, bending down to tickle the diaper clad woman’s tummy and make her squirm on the changing table. “Isn’t that right?” she asked rhetorically, baby talking and tickling her patient's stomach and drawing and anguished squeal from her charge. “Yes we are! Yes we are!” Nurse Helga gushed, reaching down to tear the front tapes of the diaper open. Miley watched in horrified fascination as the front panel were pealed down, revealing a gooey brown load within. “Phew-wee! ‘Tinky!” the lovely nurse said with exaggerated cuteness, fanning her face for dramatic effect. On the changing table, her charge wriggled and kicked ineffectually, and Miley could tell from the way she was moving that there was something wrong… her limbs were clumsy and heavy and she seemed to be unable to fully control them. There was something about the way she moved and her moaning and gurgling that struck Miley as genuinely infantile. “Take a good look, young lady,” the head matron said with a sneer. “This is what happens to naughty girls who don’t obey the rules-- they have their age-status set all the way back to ‘newborn.’” Miley looked on as the woman had her legs lifted to expose her rump, completely caked in thick brown poopy, as though she’d sat her bare bottom in mud. “Just imagine it,” Ms. Smythe said, not able to keep a sadistic quiver from her voice. “Having absolutely no control over your body-- unable to walk, talk, feed yourself… even sit up without the aid of someone else. Helplessly voiding your bladder and bowels before you even realize you have to go… being utterly dependent on others for literally everything… this is the fate that awaits troublemakers in this facility, young lady.” Miley listened to the lecture… and to the relish in Alice’s voice with a mounting dread… and beneath that, a horrifying, tickling arousal. Though she couldn’t admit it on a conscious level, the idea of being so rendered so utterly infantilized and absolutely helpless stirred her on a deep, primal level. She watched the remainder of the diaper change with a horrified fascination, imagining what it would be like to be such a helpless big baby, her pussy growing wetter by the minute. “I want you to remember this, darling… I know you’re used to special treatment, but here, your naughtiness won’t be tolerated. If you misbehave, we’ll set you all the way back, and you can serve out the remainder of your sentence as an Adult Newborn!” Ms. Smythe smiled, watching the nurse pass the cool baby-wipe up between her charge’s muddy butt-crack. “Come along,” Alice said at last, and she wheeled Miley out the door. By now, the suppository inside Miley had melted away, but it’s effects were becoming stronger by the moment-- inside, her guts cramped and bloated, and she found herself passing gas at irregular intervals, trying desperately to relieve the pressure inside her. But her efforts seemed in vain, and the more she tooted, the less relief it seemed to bring… on the contrary, she felt like each one was bringing her closer and closer to the inevitable accident. Miley couldn’t help but think back to the girl on the changing table… was a stinky, messy diaper change in her near future as well? “And here we are,” Ms. Smythe said pleasantly, wheeling Miley into the playroom… essentially, a giant daycare for adults, Miley realized grimly. About seven or eight other women sat on the floor in their onsies and sundresses, playing listlessly with a collection of plush animals, blocks and other assorted baby toys. From what Miley could tell, there were two people in charge: another shapely nurse with shiny black hair and a pretty blonde “school girl” who looked about her age, if not slightly younger. “I think you’ll be quite comfortable,” the head matron said with a smile. Miley farted nervously in response, her bowels bloating and cramping uncomfortably inside her. She knew that soon the urge would be unbearable… and uncontrollable. “Miley, this is Nurse Julie and one of our student helpers, Trxie,” Alice said, gesturing to each one in turn. Miley blushed and squirmed as they condescendingly introduced themselves… then gulped as Trixie flashed her a wicked smile. “They’re in charge here, so what they say goes. Now you play nicely with the other girls,” Ms. Smythe said, unbuckling her from the stroller. Miley breathed a sigh of relief when she was freed from the tight strap around her middle, but she was still in distress. Her bowels were working overtime, and she sweated and clenched her buttocks, trying desperately to control herself. “Here,” said Julie, taking Miley by the hand. “Why don’t you come and play with Ava?” the nurse said, leading her charge over to a pretty blonde girl who sat by herself, playing listlessly with some dolls in the corner of the room. Ava had a frilly white bonnet perched atop her head and knotted under her chin which matched her short, pink sundress, which had a large slit up the back that revealed almost the entirety of her bulging diapers and crinkly pink plastic pants. “This is our new student, Ava,” Nurse Julie said by way of introduction. “Why don’t you play nicely with Miley and make her feel welcome?” The girl blushed up at them, but she tried to smile invitingly for her new playmate. Miley sank very slowly, carefully to her knees near the girl, trying to keep her anus and butt-cheeks clenched tightly as possible to avoid embarrassing herself. She was successful… but how much longer could she maintain control? Miley found herself sucking her pacifier nervously, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. The nurse left them to their own devices, and (with an odd look Miley might have noticed if she wasn’t so occupied with her own struggles), Julie muttered an excuse about a “conference and trotted out into the hall behind the head matron. “Trixie, you’re in charge,” she called before she closed the door behind her. Miley took several deep breaths, trying to maintain her dignity… but her bowels were raging inside of her, the cramps and bloating were getting quite painful, and her gas was getting out of control; poor Miley was trying to hold it in around her fellow students, but she was unable to prevent herself from letting out a stead stream of poots-- quietly at first, then louder and louder, until finally she ripped a fart that was clearly audible. Blushing, she muttered a quick “’scuse me,” to Ava, who shrugged. “Believe me,” she said ominously, you get used to it awfully quick around here.” Miley managed to wince a smile, but inside her guts were boiling, contracting and expanding painfully. Her asshole was pulsating, involuntarily emitting foul bursts of hot gas at random intervals… and finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She looked up at Trixie and set her jaw, about to make her way over and ask to be taken to the potty when she heard Ava’s voice behind her: “Don’t do it,” she said. “Trust me-- stay out of Trixie’s way. She’s bad news.” “But I really gotta go!” Miley whined, bouncing in place. “Try and hold it until Julie gets back,” Ava said sagely. “Trust me-- even if you don’t make it, you’re much better off getting a dirty diaper change from Julie than you are getting yourself under Trixie’s thumb.” Miley listened to Ava, squirming uncomfortably, gazing between the innocent looking schoolgirl and the door. What should Miley do next? Ask Trixie to take her to the potty Try and wait for Nurse Julie Risk sneaking out of the nursery to find a potty/toilet Click here to take the poll.
  9. Vanquishing The Valkyries (New chapter added Jan. 26 2018)

    Chapter three is now available to members of the Art Appreciation Society on Patreon. Huge thanks to all my Patrons for making this happen, and to Living Infinite for doing such a great job on the art. This pic didn't conform to DD's standards-- click here to see the full pic. “How did this happen General?” The Queen demanded after General Allura had led her into a private chamber. The Queens outburst had caused quite a stir, and Allura knew that, now that the secret was out, they were going to have to work fast... every moment the Queen was exposed placed her life in danger. “Your Majesty, please...” she found herself begging, whining like a little girl again. The Queen was having none of it. In the background, Oolon waited silently. “How did discipline lapse so badly under your watch, General?!” The Queen growled. General Allura quivered, squeezing another involuntary squirt of pee into her pampers. “We-- we’ve been receiving some reports about some of our commanders, your Majesty... some of them have been exhibiting-- strange behaviours,” she finished lamely, cringing against the angry outburst she knew was coming. “’Strange behaviours!’” the Queen spat angrily, “when were you going to mention this to anyone?!” “I-- I was awaiting further data, your Majesty,” she stammered, sighing. The truth was, nobody could even provide her with an accurate description of what was happening, save various bizarre reports that (like Beta Belly) seemed to have no overt connection to one another, save that each involved a high ranking official in the Order. There was, for example, the story of Colonel Green. An exceptional officer with a long and enviable record, a reliable soldier and an excellent commander, someone that Allura knew she could count on. But a few weeks after the invasion, she began receiving word that Green was behaving strangely... that she would occasionally begin drooling during meetings, or that she had been spotted in her office, sucking her thumb while doing paperwork. It was just rumours at first... strange, but it’s wouldn’t be the first time one overly ambitious officer had smeared another behind her back in order to get ahead. General Allura dismissed it initially, sure that it was all nonsense cooked up to tarnish the record of a perfectly fine officer. Then the accidents started. Small at first, embarrassing but nothing to worry about-- until it happened while she was addressing the troops, she suffered a mid-sized (but still noticeable) lapse in bladder control in front of nearly every soldier under her command. A forgivable accident perhaps... had it not happened again in Allura’s very office (forcing her to send Oolon out for a new chair.) Allura nearly took her off duty then... But Green literally begged her for another chance, promising that her conduct would improve. It didn’t-- The thumb sucking continued, until she was slurping on it openly while walking through the base or after meals in the officer's dining room, earning her many strange stares. Later reports suggest that she seemed to be loosing control of her bodily functions and reportedly frequently embarrassed herself and made the troops uncomfortable by belching and farting in front of them. The wetting accidents continued, and Allura’s spies informed her that the Colonel was wetting her bed two or three times a week, on top of pissing herself nearly every day. And then came the day the Colonel shit her pants. This was before Beta Belly had become a topic of discussion in the Generals office, which explained why Allura didn’t believe the story-- not at first anyway. In fact, she’d actively scolded the underling who’d first told her, dismissing it as more malicious gossip aimed at undermining the Colonel. She made a note to herself to track down the perpetrator and see that they were properly punished. Then she saw the reports... and the pictures... and the video... Again, Colonel Green is addressing the troops. Her manor is awkward, her confidence clearly undermined by weeks of embarrassing incidents, the most public of which being wetting her pants in front of the troops... but it was safe to say that all of that was just a warm up for what came next. In the middle of her remarks, a noisy, flatulent sound is heard... Colonel Green turns pale, her lips tightening into an astonished ‘o’, her pants begin to bulge and turn brown. And yet, it seemed unlike any other case of Beta Belly that had been reported. Glenn explained to investigators (sucking her thumb the whole time) that she hadn’t felt any urge to go-- one minute, she was delivering her remarks, then without warning she was loading her pants. Also unlike most other cases of Beta Belly, Glenn didn’t make a recovery-- she remained diapered thickly, using them whenever the urge appeared, sucking her thumb and drooling in a special hospital, her condition chalked up to ‘nervous exhaustion...’ Another medical mystery for Valkyrie scientists. It was, of course, no mystery to Oolon... it was another one of the rebel’s plots to destabilize the Valkyries by undermining their leadership. While they slept, prominent Valkyries were subjected by Beta rebels posing as aids and servants to a bombardment of subliminal messages designed to ingrain a series of posthypnotic commands on the listeners psyche. He had been subjecting General Allura to these subliminals for some time now, mostly while she slept via a series of micro-speakers hidden throughout her quarters. He had only tested them a little bit before now (hence the bulky diaper the General was sporting under her trousers), but he knew from past experience that the exposure time had been more that adequate. And he would find no better time to prove himself right. Swiftly and quietly, he removed from his pocket a small remote control with a number of coloured buttons on the front. Each would produce a different tone, barely detectable by the human ear, which would produce a different effect on the poor General: pink (to give her an overwhelming urge to suck her thumb), blue (to make her drool), purple (to make her belch), green (to make her fart), yellow (to give her the urge to pee, which would increase with each subsequent push), brown (which had the same effect as yellow, only on her bowels instead of her bladder), and black (which would remove her ability to control her bowels and bladder until it was pressed again.) With his stout thumb, he casually gave the top button a squeeze... “I’m sick of your excuses, General!” The Queen bellowed, making Allura flinch in response. “I want answers! Why have these lapses in discipline been allowed, and what... exactly... are you doing...?” The Queen trailed off suddenly, gazing at the General with a strange look. “Um smorry, ur ‘Ajesty...” She mumbled, stunned when she heard herself. Almost like she had something in her... She looked down and nearly screamed when she saw her thumb in her mouth. She popped the digit out, all covered in drool, and instinctively hid it behind her back... but the damage was done... The Queen was staring at her now like a science experiment. Oolon pushed the blue button and was rewarded by the sight of a steady trickle of saliva dribbling out of the General’s mouth and rolling down her chin, almost on cue. “General...” The Queen said slowly, watching her drooling like a crazy person, her look a mixture of confusion and actual concern. “Are you feeling quite alright?” Confused, her eyes wide, her chin glistening with drool, General Allura opened her mouth to answer though she had no idea what she would say. Oolon spared her the trouble-- at the push of a button, a shockingly loud belch emerged from the General’s mouth, utterly without warning. “General!” the Queen utterly, actually shocked that one of her most trusted officers would do something so vulgar in her presence. Reddening at her lack of control, Allura struggled to move past it. “Excuse m--” Oolon hit another button. An ear-splitting fart roared out of the General’s backside, barely muffled by her thickly padded pamper. Allura gasped comically, gaping at the Queen with an embarrassment more all-consuming than anything she had ever experienced. To pass gas before Her All Mighty And Eternal Majesty was a social faux pas unheard of in the history of the order... and one look into her Majesty’s face was all it took to let her know that the Queen was definitely not used to hearing or smelling anyone’s farts but her own. “Oh my!” she cried, and Allura might have dropped dead from embarrassment right there had Oolon not tapped the yellow button, bringing her bladder to life inside her-- not too bad right now, but she could definitely feel it. “Your Majesty,” Allura began, voice trembling, “please allow me to express my most sincere and humble apolo—UURRP!” she cut herself off with another belch. She reached up and slapped her palms over her mouth in response, her eyes bulging humorously... Oolon gave the brown button a hard press, and Allura was horrified when she felt her bowels roar to life inside her, gurgling and cramping ominously. “This behaviour is absolutely disgraceful!” The Queen scolded haughtily... to no avail, as Oolon kept pressing the purple and green buttons, causing the poor, humiliated General to perform an impromptu symphony of burps and farts, punctuated by presses of the brown and yellow buttons to keep her bladder and bowels stimulated. Allura found herself clutching at her crotch and rump, emitting various rude, gassy noises from both ends and hopping from foot to foot childishly as the Queen scolded her to control herself. The General felt for all the world like a little girl being lectured by her mommy for embarrassing her during a trip to the mall. Finally, when he felt like the groundwork had been adequately laid, Oolon decided it was time for the coup de grâce and gave the black button a firm press. The effect was nearly instantaneous. The pressure inside General Allura had been built to such a point that she was just barely maintaining her continence, squeezing her sphincters with all her might. As the tiny, nearly inaudible noise hit her ears and triggered her posthypnotic suggestion, a funny thing happened: It was almost as though, all at once, she completely forgot how to maintain control of herself... one minute she was holding it in, and although she was getting desperate, she was in control. The next second, she was pissing herself-- not a spurt or a stream but a full blown geyser into the already soggy pamper between her thighs. “Oh!” The General gasped, the noisy hiss and the steady pittering of her urine against her diaper clearly audible to everyone in the room. The Queen stared at her, studying her crotch, and as General Allura watched the expression on her Majesty’s face change, she came to a horrible realization: she knows! Her fears were confirmed moments later when the Queen reached out and took hold of the General’s trousers. “What is this!?!?!” she roared, furiously tugging the pants down to half mast, in spite of the General’s childish squirming, and left her standing with her puffy white diaper exposed, the crotch clearly stained and soggy. “SO! The truth comes out!!! You have a lot of explaining to do, General!” Instead, General Allura, Supreme Commander of the Valkyrie invasion force, felt her anus go slack, followed instantaneously by a tremendous gush of hot, mushy poop into the seat of her diaper. “UH!” She cried, a guttural mix of total relief and primal humiliation, a cramp doubling her over at the waist. The General was well aware of the embarrassing way her butt was sticking out behind her, but she couldn’t force herself to stand up straight any more than she could stop the steady flow of thick, gooey poop from exploding out of her backside and filling her diaper. A large brown stain began growing on the back of her pampers, painfully obvious to anyone who glanced... but that was the last thing on Allura’s mind. She looked up into her Queen’s horrified, angry face and tried to think of something, anything to say that would make it right. Instead, she farted noisily, shivering, looking right into her Majesty’s eyes as her buttocks parted and she uncontrollably pushed out a massive, steaming mudslide into the seat of her diapers, the stain spreading out across her buttocks and creeping up the back towards the waistband. The utter disgrace of loosing control of herself in such a shameful way before her Grand Exulted Imperial Highness, who she had been programmed from birth to love, respect, and worship, was too much to bare. Before she even knew what was happening, General Allura had burst into tears and was sobbing uncontrollably. The Queen stood by and watched, utterly scandalized. She fumed, boiling with rage as the stench of the General’s mess crept into her nose. At last, her rage boiled over, and she reached out, snatching the sobbing General Allura by the wrist. “If you want to act like a child,” she said, dragging the General over to a bench on the far wall, Allura stumbling to keep up with her pants down at her knees, her loaded diaper squishing uncomfortably with every step, “then that is exactly how you’ll be treated!” Her Majesty settled herself down on the bench, then pulled the General across her lap with one short, sharp tug. Allura found herself upended, staring at the floor, with her diapered butt stuck up in the air behind her, her head spinning... and before she knew what was happening, the Queen had landed a firm, open palmed swat to the seat of the General’s bulging, lumpy pampers. She was getting spanked! “NO!” she cried, tears trickling down her face, dignity forgotten as she struggled to free herself... But it was no use-- with one strong hand, the Queen pinned her it place across her knee while she brought the other, made even heavier and harder by her sturdy metal gauntlets, down on the General’s backside, the mess inside her diapers squishing against her squirming butt-cheeks. “In all my years, never have I seen anything so disgraceful!” Her Majesty lectured sternly, bringing her hand down for another muffled swat to the General’s heavily padded tushy, followed swiftly by two more, and before she knew it, General Allura, the second most powerful person on the planet, found herself taking a spanking on the seat of her messy diaper-- like a four year old they just couldn’t potty train. It wasn’t very painful-- even with the Queen’s enhanced strength, the combination of the padded plastic and the thick mess inside insulated her from most of the force of the blows... but the lumpy, muddy poopy inside was just getting more squished up against her cheeks and smushed up her butt-crack. “WWWAAAAHHHH!” The General cried, her kicking lags caught up in the pants that had been hauled down to her knees. Her composure was totally gone, and as she noticed other women in her command gathering around her, many of them snickering and giggling to each other, General Allura lost it completely. She screamed and cried and wailed as Her Majesty continued to rain forceful spanks down on her squirming derriere. Her Majesty crinkled her nose distastefully as the spanking continued. Both the emerging stench of the General’s messy diaper and the feel of the load squishing beneath her gauntlet were unpleasant for her, but she continued doling out methodical discipline-- the kind of discipline that was obviously sorely lacking around here! The spanking continued until Allura’s rear end was utterly filthy, the mess caked up high between her buttocks. At last The Queen was satisfied, and without warning General Allura found herself being dumped off the Queen’s lap, landing in the middle of the floor with a SPLAT! Allura wailed despondently as the poop in her diaper was mushed up even further against her bottom. “Let that be a lesson to you!” Her Majesty bellowed loudly, the General cringing and sobbing as she did. “Security! Security!” Her Majesty raged, “get in here NOW!” A pair of thickly diapered guards waddled through the door, one of them wearing nothing but her mondo diaper on the bottom... but The Queen was focused on the General, who stood by cringing and weeping as her Majesty barked her orders: “Guards! Escort the former General to the infirmary for a fresh diaper... then to the brig. Allura, you are a disgrace to the uniform and to the order... I’ll personally see to it that you receive the harshest possible punishment for this disgrace!” As the guards led the General away in tears, the Queen ordered her entourage to send in her replacement-- she had an address to plan.
  10. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    If you're enjoying the story and you would like to see more like it let me know in the comments-- and if you pledge more than $8 on Patreon, don't forget to vote in our poll to determine what happens to Miley next. Also, don't forget to check out my blog for more stories, pics, clips and more. “Come along, young lady,” said Ms. Smythe sweetly, dragging Miley across the room by her hand. Miley tried to keep up as best she could with her butt-cheeks tensed together behind her. Inside her, the suppository was melting rapidly, and a corresponding uncomfortable pressure was building in her colon, but it wasn’t too bad… at least not yet. From a nearby cupboard, Alice removed and unfolded a wheelchair converted into an adult-sized stroller. Looking at her expectantly, she pointed and sternly instructed Miley to “get in.” Slowly, gently, the urge in her bowels growing stronger with every passing moment, Miley eased herself into the cushy seat with a sigh… at least she had something to help hold her mess in-- for the moment, anyway. She was less thrilled, however, when the head matron pulled a thick strap across her chest and buckled it in with an ominous snap, and Miley could tell by Ms. Smythe’s grin that she was now locked into place. Her suspicions were confirmed when her wrists were strapped to the arm-rests with a pair of soft but unbreakable restraints. The process was repeated on her ankles, and before she knew what was happening, Miley was thoroughly bound into place. “Open your mouth,” Alice commanded. The nipple of a pacifier was popped into her mouth and buckled in behind her head, effectively gagging her. Miley was almost impressed… within a few seconds, the head matron had her bound, immobilize, and ready to roll. “Ready to go, sweetie?” She asked sarcastically, earning her a glare from Miley, who made an irritated noise behind her pacifier. “Let me know if these restraints are too tight,” Alice said, spitefully pulling the belt across Miley’s front even tighter, putting pressure on her passenger’s tummy. Miley struggled and squirmed against her bonds, complaining emphatically from behind her pacifier-gag. “No? OK, let’s go!” Ms. Smythe said brightly, and before she knew it, Miley was rolling out of the room and down the hall, squirming and struggling the whole way. “We offer both scholastic classes and courses on etiquette, but of course, you’re far too small to worry about any of that right now,” Ms Smythe said condescendingly. Miley huffed in annoyance, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. A bell rang, and the hallway began filling up with women, their ages ranging from late teens to late thirties… but all of them were clad in a traditional schoolgirl uniform straight out of a posh English boarding school. Miley looked at their tartan skirts and blouses longingly, envious of a dorky school uniform for the first time in her life. “At your age status,” Alice began, smoothly maneuvering the stroller through the crowd, “the expectations placed on you are limited. You will attend playtime and storytime, under the supervision of our staff and some of the more advanced students.” Miley cringed… as bad as it was to find herself under the paid care of a professional babysitter, being under the thumb of another ‘inmate’ seemed much worse. “Of course, you’re far to little for swimming or tennis… although I would love to see you waddling around the court with a thickly swollen diaper bottom,” she confessed with a chuckle. “However, you will have access to the playground, and you’re allowed to play on the lawns-- under proper supervision, of course.” The head matron smoothly maneuvered the stroller through a set of double doors… Miley saw white tiles, and the air was filled with a strong antiseptic smell that was not quite covering the distant scent of pee and poop. Crinkling her nose, Miley drank in the surroundings as Ms. Smythe pushed her inside. Miley gasped at what she saw. Theywere standing inside a large room that was apparently dedicated to potty training… for grown women, Miley realized, blushing eight shades of red when she saw one of her fellow students perched on an over-sized potty chair, tinkling away under the superior smirk of a crisply dressed nurse. “You will be expected to ask to be taken to the potty… but don’t worry unduly, dear-- I know how hard it can be for a girl your age to be expected to control herself,” she said with an amused chuckle, making Miley fume. Inside, her bowels were starting to percolate, bubbling forcefully, the uncomfortable pressure in her rump building. The door creaked open. A girl of about 19 entered wearing a schoolgirl uniform better suited for someone ten years younger. Behind her, she was pulling another woman, who, although she appeared to be several years older than her companion, was wearing an infantile little party dress, all pink and white and frilly with her long hair banded up in pig tails… Miley had her “age status” pegged at around four or five. “Oh, hello, Ms. Smythe,” the first girl said cheerfully. She turned to her charge, looking at her expectantly. “What do you say?” she prompted the woman with a squeeze of her hand. “Hello, ma’am,” the woman mumbled reluctantly, curtsying cutely with her swishing petticoats. “Good morning, girls,” Alice said with a small smile, watching the pair make a bee line for the nearest unoccupied potty. “Watch carefully,” she instructed Miley, who sucked her pacifier unconsciously, watching with round, horrified eyes as the girl reached up her companion’s frilly petticoats and tugged down her thick, padded training panties. “OK, sweetie,” the schoolgirl said, a malicious grin on her face, “time to potty like a big girl!” Miley watched, fascinated, horrified. Is she really going to…? Before she could even finish her thought, the woman hiked up her dress and petticoats before plopping herself down on the potty heavily. Seconds later, her butt exploded, a blast of flatulence propelling a mushy gush of thick brown poopy that spattered into the plastic bowl beneath her, accompanied by an anguished grunt. “Oh my,” said Ms. Smythe, grinning condescendingly at the blushing woman who was perched on the potty. “She did have to go, didn’t she?” “Yes, ma’am,” the ‘older’ girl said cheerfully. “We just got finished in the lunchroom.” “In that case, I imagine you’ll be making a dash for the potty yourself before long,” the head matron said with a superior smirk, her eyes flickering wickedly when the girl blushed and looked away. “Make sure you keep those little white panties clean,” Alice warned teasingly, “or you’re going to be back in diapers like my little friend here,” she threatened, gesturing to the stroller and it’s passenger. The schoolgirl eyed Miley and gulped nervously. “And what about you, sweetie?” Ms. Smythe asked, squatting in her high heels to look Miley in the eyes. “Do you have to use the potty?” she asked sarcastically, grinning like a cat looking a canary. Will Miley ask to use the potty? Click here to take the poll.
  11. Too Late

    I think one of my pics is too risque for DD... click here to read the full story with both pics. A friend of mine said she was in the mood for something dark and embarrassing... I'm dedicating this one to her and all the other naughty girls out there. If you’re a naughty girl and you’re reading this, then it’s already too late. That fascination you’re feeling, the urge to read onward-- that’s not an accident. You’re already falling under my spell... and by the time you’ve finished reading, it won’t matter what you are now... because by the time you get to the end of this, you’re going to be nothing but an overgrown baby. Don’t believe me? Then keep reading (as if you had a choice.) Let your eyes wander on down the page, and maybe even allow yourself a smile or chuckle at how silly it all is. That’s fine... your disbelief is all part of the plan... by the time you realize what’s going on, it’ll be too late. You can probably feel it now. It’s very subtle at first... little more than a tickle in the back of your head... but ignore it for now (as I know you will) and just keep reading. Let your eyes wonder over the words, letting them fill up your mind until there is nothing else. There... you can feel that something’s wrong now, can’t you? All those precious big girl thoughts are going away... drown out by the growing din inside of you-- a voice that tells you to abandon the hollow trappings of your adult life and settle back into the soft, babyish comfort of a nice... soft... diaper. Now it’s in full effect, and you wish you could take your eyes away... that you had just listened to my warnings... but now it’s too late. It’s OK, don’t fight it... just let the words wash over you, filling you up with warm, mushy feeling, pushing out all the bad thoughts, pushing all that boring schooling and useless job experience aside. Just relax and let it fill you with warmth and innocence, and don’t worry about a little dampness down below... you’re just wetting your pants. Now now... don’t run away (like you could if you even tried.) Just give your butt a little squirm in the seat any you’ll discover a little extra padding-- that’s right: you’re wearing diapers! Good thing, too... they’ll catch all the pee pee you were too silly to hold in and keep you from making a big mess... after all, you don’t want to get spanked by daddy or mommy... do you? And as you sit there, on you’re plushly padded patootie, you’re going to notice small changes... your cup of coffee becomes a bottle, your t-shirt becomes a onsie, and... was your hair up in pig-tails like that before you sat down and started reading? There’s no denying it, honey-- you’re turning into a baby! Now, you’re probably asking yourself “could I possibly be more infantilized than I am right now?” and I would like to respond to that question with a little riddle: what’s white and brown and stinky all over? Give up? BBBLLLAAARRRTT! The answer is you, honey... or more specifically, your diaper! PU! Don’t try to deny it young woman... your pampers are all saggy and brown and the back, even if the stink wasn’t a dead giveaway! You look so cute with that shock look on your face as that big load overwhelms you, forcing it’s way out of your backside and squishing into the back of your pampers without your permission. A saggy, stinky diaper butt... that was your fate the moment you logged in to this website! And let’s face it-- you wouldn’t be here unless you wanted it... would you sweetie? Now, I know you’d love to read more, but you’re long overdue for a nap, and mommy or daddy should be along soon to put you down for the afternoon. Night night, sweetie... and stop by again real soon... assuming you’re still allowed to use the computer, that is! Until then, I know you’ll be dreaming of diaper changes...
  12. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    Big thanks to everyone who's left comments so far... Hope you're having as much fun reading this as I am writing it. If you pledge $8 or more on Patreon then don't forget to take our poll to determine what happens next in the story... and don't forget to leave a comment if you'd like to see more stuff like this in the future! “We always like to greet our new arrivals with a little check up,” Alice Smythe said with a sinister smile. Settling herself into a comfy chair near the changing table, she looked at Miley and beckoned. Reluctantly, Miley shuffled across the room, unconsciously tugging at her onsie at the back to stop it from bunching up uncomfortably. The onsie was just a little tight and made from a stretchy material... it clung to her body and accentuated her womanly curves as she padded over to stand nervously next to the head matron. “Come here,” she said, patting her lap and looking up at her expectantly. Miley stared back, eyes wide, her heart pounding in her throat. Slowly, hesitantly, she complied, lowering herself into a partial prone position across Ms. Smythe’s thighs. Without hesitation, the head matron took Miley under the arms and pulled her firmly into position, her full weight supported by the older woman’s warm, firm lap. Suspended in the air, her feet dangling inches off the floor behind her, she shot a look of fear over her shoulder when Alice patted the plumply padded seat of her onsie before reaching between her legs to unsnap them. The wide, puffy seat of her pampers came into view-- Ms. Smythe chuckled, and she reached around, carefully pealing the tapes open before folding it down to reveal a jiggling bare bottom. “NNNOO!” Miley squealed, kicking her legs and clenching her buttocks. “You can’t spank me!” she said, bratty and defiant, reaching back to shield her butt with her hand. Ms. Smythe easily gathered Miley’s wrist into one hand and pinned it at the small of her back, effectively trapping her in place. “Rest assured, young lady, that if I wanted to warm your bottom, I would have you crying your little eyes out by now,” she assured her charge confidently, delivering a handful of open palmed swats to each delectable buttock, making Miley scream and kick and writhe helplessly in place, and she had no doubt that Ms. Smythe absolutely meant what she said. “You should be thankful that you’re not in for a spanking... at least, not yet,” she warned with a tight smile. Reaching into a nearby drawer, she removed some small objects. Miley sagged when she heard she wasn’t in for a spanking, relieved. But if I’m not here to get a spanking, she thought, wriggling uncomfortably over Alice’s lap, then how come I’m laying here with my bare ass hanging out? Peering over her shoulder only netted her further questions when saw Ms. Smythe smearing a glass cylinder, about the circumference of her thumb, with a clear, gel-like substance. Her suspicions were confirmed when, moments later, Ms. Smythe, utterly without warning, squeezed a glob of the jelly onto her forefinger and stuck it between Miley’s butt cheeks and began smearing the wrinkled pucker of her delicate little anus. “Whoa! Hey!” She squealed, her feet fluttering urgently in the air behind her. “Just what do you think you’re doiiIIIIIING!” Miley gave a surprised, mortified squawk when the head matron suddenly pushed her finger inside her, the tip disappearing with ease right up Miley’s tight little asshole. “Hold still young lady,” Ms. Smythe said absently, easily pinning Miley down in her lap and thoroughly greasing up her back passage. Miley wiggled and fought for a long moment before the finger was slowly withdrawn. With a sigh, she relaxed, hanging limply over the older woman’s lap, breathing shakily... at least she had that part over with. But now she felt Alice’s steely fingers gripping her buttocks to spread her cheeks apart once more, and Miley blushed, conscious of the cool breeze across her greasy, glistening anus. A hesitant peek over her shoulder revealed the bulbous cylinder of the over-sized thermometer currently bearing down on her butt-hole. She tensed and tried squirming away, but with her wrist locked in place behind her back, Miley was utterly powerless to stop the headmistress from pushing the chilly glass tube of the thermometer past the quivering crinkle of her anus and firmly into her rectum. “GGGUUHH!” She grunted, kicking her legs in the air behind her and clawing at the carpet with her free hand. Ms. Smythe just chuckled, holding her in place with one hand while patting her smooth, bare rump with the other. Miley settled in with a shaky sigh, trying to focus on anything-- the warmth of the head matron’s lap beneath her, the chilly air of the nursery on her naked, goose pimpled flesh-- anything besides the embarrassing sensation of the cool glass tube that had been shoved up her well-lubricated anus. “There we go!” said Ms. Smyth, her voice sickly sweet, patting Miley’s soft pink buns with her palm. “Hhhhuhhhhh!” Miley groaned, her legs scissoring wildly in the air behind her. She was vividly aware of her ridiculous position-- laying across the attractive head matron’s lap, her bare rump thrust up proudly into the air behind her, over-sized baby thermometer protruding from between the pleasantly plump hillocks of her buttocks. Her anus, stretched tightly over the cool glass of the thermometer, quivered ticklishly, and inside, her rectum pulsed wetly, tightening and loosening around the smooth glass cylinder at regular intervals, making her writhe and squirm. Worst of all, Miley could feel her pussy growing wetter by the second, utterly against her will. The situation was exasperated by the thickly padded diaper under her loins, crinkling loudly with each unconscious thrust of her pelvis against Ms. Smythe’s thigh beneath her. In spite of her blushing humiliation, she was soon involuntarily grinding her pelvis at regular intervals. “You naughty girl,” Alice smirked. “I demand that you cease this disgusting behavior this instant, young lady,” she said, rather unconvincingly, as she landed a light but firm swat with her open palm to Miley’s rump. The young pop star squealed and wiggled in a vain effort to avoid the blows, which just resulted in her inadvertently rubbing her neatly trimmed privates on the padding below her (which she noted was getting wetter by the minute beneath her soppy wet loins. Though it went on for less than five agonizing minutes, it seemed to Miley that her humiliating rectal temp check was actually taking forever… at last, Ms. Smyth began the process of tugging the thermometer slowly from Miley’s asshole. “Hold still, honey-bunny,” she said sweetly, popping the thermometer from Miley’s butt-hole with one final short, sharp tug. Miley hung limply from Alice’s lap, breathing heavily as the head matron studied the thermometer. “Oops! Silly me! I forgot to shake it down first! Looks like we’ll have to start all over again,” she said with a sinister smile, holding the thermometer next to the air conditioner to make it nice and cool again. Miley’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she heard she was going to have to go through all that again, and she bucked and struggled to get away… but it was a simple matter to pin the young star in place again, and Ms. Smythe clucked soothingly, a sadistic grin on her face and she spitefully pushed the thick glass tube into place once more. Miley emitted a liquid grunt as the thermometer was pushed unto place again, then simply hung, limp and defeated with the icy glass protruding from between her butt-cheeks, passively accepting her fate.… but Ms. Smythe had other ideas. She took the thermometer between her thumb and forefinger and twisted it slowly back and forth in Miley’s butt, making the girl grit her teeth and thrust her pelvis reflexively. Alice smiled and patted the pop princess’ quivering rump, toying with the intrusive glass object planted firmly in her backside, and soon she had Miley openly humping the diaper spread open under her loins. At last, sensing an orgasm was approaching, the head matron spitefully pulled the thermometer from Miley’s ass, leaving her dangling, sweating and exhausted over Alice’s lap. “Hmmm… your temperature is a tad high,” she said sagely, patting the girl’s soft buns gently. “Not to worry, though,” she said, unwrapping the suppository she’d taken the liberty of fetching while she’d gathered the thermometer and the lube. “I know exactly what to do,” Ms. Smythe said sweetly, pushing the suppository through Miley’s anus and deeply into her rectum. And as the diaper was pulled tight over her sopping wet pussy and sealed shut, snapping the onsie closed overtop of it, Miley began to feel a strange tingling sensation building in her colon… “Now that we have that out of the way,” said Ms. Smythe, helping Miley unsteadily to her feet, “I think it’s time for...” A trip to the playroom A nap in the crib A stroll around the grounds Vote here If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my blog for more great stuff.
  13. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    As always, if you pledge $8 or more a month on Patreon you can vote in the poll to determine what happens next! “Given your past behavior, I think that two years old should suit you just fine... at least at first,” said Ms. Smythe with a grin. “Oh come on!” Miley exclaimed, her cheeks blushing. “I didn’t do anything that bad...” “We have a long and very public record of your deliberately shocking and provocative actions, young lady! Including cavorting around dressed as an actual baby on several occasions.” “That was just a bit!” she said, blushing deeply, knowing that this statement wasn’t quite true. “I-- it was a character I was playing!” She asserted, not quite as firmly as she would have liked... she couldn’t remember the number of times she’d thought about cavorting around in front of the entire world dressed like a giant baby while she guiltily masturbated... “Nevertheless, I do believe it’s a role they you’re, shall we say, comfortable with?” Ms. Smythe said, smiling wickedly when she saw Miley’s cheeks flare bright red in response. “Come along,” Ms. Smythe said, rising from her desk. “We’ve dawdled quite long enough-- it’s time to get you ready and start settling you in to your new life.” She held out her hand towards Miley expectantly. Hesitantly, she reached out and took Ms. Smythe’s hand and allowed herself to be led out of the room like a toddler. “You will of course be expected to be under adult supervision at all times, and you must remain only in the designated areas. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that we are firm believers in corporal punishment-- very firm,” she said with a slow smile. Miley cringed when she thought back to the girl in the corner and her blazing red buns... she couldn’t help but wonder which rule she’d broken... and how long she’d had to spend over Ms. Smythe’s knee. Miley trotted along behind the head matron, obediently holding her hand the whole way. “Here we are,” she said at last, opening the door to a room labelled Changing Centre. Miley reluctantly allowed herself to be led inside and stood by, shocked and horrified by what she saw-- a room which had apparently been designed for the express function of dealing with any type of “accident” that might occur and provide the appropriate level of protection afterwords. There was a shower cubicle tucked away in one corner, and a couple of old fashioned wash basins nearby-- perfect for rinse downs or long, slow clean-ups. There was a closet full of little outfits and school uniforms, all sized for adults, but not one of them fit for a girl older than 15. A small medical station that provided thermometers, enema bags, laxatives... even a fridge to keep the suppositories cool. On the nearby shelves, stacks and stacks of diapers sat in cubbyholes stacked almost to the ceiling, each one filled to the top with nearly every variety of commercially available adult diaper-- from store bought “protective undergarments” to specialty brands off the internet like Bambino and Rearz, each one neatly labelled for easy reference. The centrepiece of the room was the custom-made changing table, it’s surface thickly padded like a doctor’s table with a thin paper sheet stretched across it. Beneath, it had shelves for all the supplies, including creams, ointments, oils and powders... it even had a set of stirrups at the bottom, just in case. Miley took in her surroundings with her chin on her chest, the overpowering, nurseryesque feeling of the room contributing to her growing sense of helplessness. She stared at the changing table, sweating... surely, she thought, trying to keep her cool, she won’t actually expect me to climb up on that thing so she can put me in a... “Come, young lady,” said Ms. Smythe firmly, forcefully helping Miley out of her jacket, “we’ve put it off long enough. It’s time to get you ready to serve out your sentence.” “But,” Miley said lamely, hoping to delay the inevitable just a few more precious seconds... but the icy Ms. Smythe wasn’t having any of it. “No more ‘buts’, little lady,” she said firmly, unbuttoning her blouse, “except the one I’m going to spank if you don’t start cooperating right this minute young lady!” Miley gulped, flashing back to the bright red butt-cheeks she’d been staring at in Ms. Smythe’s office and decided not to push her luck. So she stood meekly by and allowed the head matron to strip her of her expensive, designer clothes and dainty, silky underwear, until she stood before her, shivering and naked. Ms. Smythe looked over her cowering charge with a superior smirk, patting the top of the changing table. “Come along dear... it’s time for your diaper,” she said, emphasizing the final word and making Miley shiver. The head matron helped the nude Miley onto her back on the padded table, making eye contact and grinning at Miley’s adorable blush. She gathered the supplies from under the table, then went to the cubbyholes to select a diaper. “Hhmmm... now what diaper best suits you,” she wondered out loud, causing Miley to squirm on the changing table. “Uumm...” Miley murmured, “maybe we could... mmmpph!” she squealed as a pacifier was quickly pushed into her mouth. She shot a dirty look at Ms. Smythe, who merely said “hush, before going back to the important business of selecting a diaper. At last she made her choice, and Miley’s cheeks flared bright red when she saw the diaper, thickly padded, decorated with cutesie cartoon animals... and just her size. “Tushy up, sweetheart,” Ms. Smythe said briskly, patting Miley’s thigh for emphasis. Miley hesitantly complied, spurred on by the threat of a spanking. When she returned her butt to the surface of the table, it wasn’t the padding and the paper she felt beneath her soft, pale buns... it was the thick padding of a bulky diaper. She didn’t get to enjoy the situation for long-- moments later, the head matron easily gathered her ankles into one hand and lifted Miley’s legs clear, exposing her pleasantly rounded buttocks to the room. Her butt-cheeks were rubbed with oil until they glistened, then dusted with powder. Lowering her back to the table, Ms. Smythe met Miley’s gaze with a pleasant grin, making her blush and look away, the pacifier working it’s way in and out of her mouth. She burned with shame... but deep down, in some repressed part of herself, there was a tiny spark of forbidden pleasure-- she knew, deep down, that this was exactly what she’d wanted the first time she strapped on a diaper and cavorted around in front of the camera. She clenched her fists tightly when the head matron oiled her pussy, and she was unable to suppress a sigh when her glistening slip was dusted with powder and patted in firmly. At last, the diaper was tugged up tight between her legs. Miley twitch, a powerful, almost electric surge of energy coursing through her body as the thick, padded plastic was pulled up tight against her privates and taped shut, sealing her in. Miley groaned, filled with conflicting feelings... but she didn’t have time to sort them out. Before she knew it, Ms. Smythe was helping her off the table, and soon she was standing before the woman, who was turning her in a tight circle to inspect her new undergarment with a satisfied smile. “There!” she said happily, “isn’t that so much better than those designer rags and silky panties?” she asked rhetorically. She went through the closet, selecting a power pink onsie from one of the hangers and tugging it over Miley’s head. Miley frowned behind her soother as the crotch was snapped shut... at least she didn’t have to go around half naked anymore. Her hair was banded into pig-tails with two lengths of velvet ribbons. At last, Ms. Smythe was done, and she looked her new charge over with a victorious expression. “There! Oh, don’t you just look so darling,” she gushed, reaching out to pinch the scowling Miley’s cheek. “Now that you’ve been appropriately attired,” she began heavily, an ominous smile playing about her lips, “we always like to greet our new arrivals with...” A meal A spanking A rectal temp taking What happens next? Click here to vote now!
  14. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    Oh, sorry about that-- I'm writing this primarily for Patreon where we do the polling, so everyone over there saw that she'd been sentenced to regression... but looking back over this, unless you'd been paying attention to the polling, you wouldn't know-- my bad! It shouldn't happen again (I think most of the chapters are going to continue pretty much directly after this), but I'll do a little re-cap from now on. Thanks for the head's up, CDfm-- glad you're enjoying the story!
  15. Miley Gets Regressed (New Chapter Added Feb. 16)

    Happy Thanksgiving! Here's wishing everyone a safe and wonderful day! Here's a treat I hope you all enjoy. It's still mostly set-up, but trust me when I say the action is going to start heating up soon! If you're enjoying the story and you'd like to see more like it please let me know in the comments... and if you pledge $8 or more at Patreon, don't forget to take the poll to determine Miley's fate! Thanks to our poll, Miley will be serving a regression sentence at the fabulous Babes In Diapers Institute in California... we pick up our story with her just arriving out front: The institute where Miley would be serving her regression sentence was an English colonial-style mansion a couple of hours outside of LA. When they pulled up to the gates, the paparazzi had already gathered. Miley blushed and fumed-- they wouldn’t be able to see what happened of course, and the entire world already knew she’d been sentenced to regression (that late night comedians had been having a field day wit it)... did they have to rub her nose in it? The gates slowly parted. The black sedan rolled through and gently up the long driveway towards the house. Miley inspected the grounds through the window. On any other day, she would have admired the beautifully maintained gardens and lawns... but, with her last few moments of her adulthood at hand, she simply frowned and pouted on the unfairness of it all. And before she knew it, they were stopped out front. “We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said, with, Miley noted, a barely concealed note of glee. “Thanks,” she scowled, reluctantly climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind her. “Hello, dear,” the woman greeted her, the warmth in her voice betrayed by the cool, superior smirk on her face. “Allow me to introduce myself: I’m Alice Smythe, the head matron here at the institute.”She extended a hand and gave Miley a hearty handshake. Miley, for her part, just tried not to stare. Ms. Smythe was elegantly dressed and possessed a lithe, athletic frame-- she also stood over six feet tall, had to look down to meet Miley’s gaze, and, Miley could tell by the handshake, was easily strong enough to handle her with the greatest of ease. The woman was positively amazonian, and even standing in front of her wearing designer clothes, Miley still felt like little more than a girl playing dress up. “Follow me won’t you?” she asked, turning and striding confidently down the hall. She lead Miley down a long corridor, deeper into the facility. “As you know, we’re here to facilitate your court mandated regression sentence. For the period you’re serving your sentence, our staff will provide for all of your care and needs... whatever they might be,” she said with a barely concealed smirk. “You will be assigned a room and a roommate, and I suggest you play nice... we take misbehavior very seriously around here,” she said sternly. Miley nodded, listened nervously. Miley tried to think of something clever to say, merely gulped instead. “We offer the full range of age re-assignment therapy experiences, from late childhood alllllllll the way down to newborn infants-- and we enforce these statuses with a battery of post-hypnotic suggestion in conjunction with certain chemical treatments... needless to say, I suggest you remain on your best behavior, young woman,” she warned with a stern smile... Miley was feeling more anxious with every passing moment. “We have the full authority of the court to assign and re-assign your age-status at any time as we see fit. Good behavior will result in an increase of age-status, while bad behavior will be met with a reduction of age-status. I d suggest you attempt to be a good girl during your stay my dear... It’s so easy for a naughty girl such as yourself to slip back into infancy before you know it! “With our highly trained staff, state-of-the-art equipment, and meticulously researched methods, we are able to re-create the desired period of your life with almost total accuracy for the most effective regression therapy treatments in the world,” Ms Smythe lectured, her high heals clacking against the polished tile beneath their feet. They entered Alice’s office... Miley gasped, shocked when she was greeted by the sight of a girl about her age, standing with her nose in the corner, a fluffy white diaper tugged down to her knees to reveal a matching set of rosey red buttocks. Ms. Smythe didn’t even acknowledge the girl, the state of her undress, or her obvious embarrassment, simply taking a seat at her desk and gesturing for Miley to sit. Reluctantly, she obeyed, still staring at the girl in the corner, unable to take her eyes away from the glowing orbs of her red-hot hiney. Ms. Smythe took up a folder from her desk and browsed through it. “As you know,” she said smoothly without looking up, “the court has given us a large degree of leeway in determining your initial age-status. I want to remind you once again, however, that this assignment will likely be temporary as your status will increase or decrease depending on your behavior.” “Uh huh,” Miley said, only barely listening as she stared at the girl in the corner, her eyes fixated on the girl’s shiny red rump, and although she tried to focus on what Ms. Smythe was saying, she couldn’t help but stare at those blazing biscuits and think about how much they must sting. “I’ve been reviewing your behavior,” Ms. Smythe said gravely, carefully closing the folder and setting it on the desk. Leaning back in the chair, she fixed Miley with a superior gaze from over the top of her glasses. “You have some, shall we say, shocking incidents in your past... but I don’t believe this marks you as a bad girl-- simply a naughty one,” she said with a predatory smile. Miley felt as though she were about to melt before the might of a goddess. “I’ve weighed every variable very carefully,” she said with finality, and I’ve decided...” What should Miley’s age-status be set at? (Remember that this can go up or down depending on her future behavior.) Six years old (still in training panties.) Four years old (still in pull-ups) Two years old (in diapers, potty training) Click here to vote.