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I thought I posted this a week ago, but apparently it didn't post properly 'cuz I can't find it anywhere! Sorry it's late! ... System Booting… User Profile Loading… Profile Loaded. Entering the Totalverse. “So you’re not going to tell me how long?” I asked, practically buzzing with excitement. I knew the answer. I wanted to hear it anyways, a confirmation of my fate. “Not even a hint, baby girl,” Daddy assured me. “If you want out, you’re going to have to earn it the hard way.” We’d both loaded into the full VR space for this, me naked, him fully clothed, and simply spawning the outfit onto my body didn’t feel intimate enough. He wanted to dress me for the occasion. The diaper was the obvious part, and my princess parts twitched just at the sight of the fluffy, plastic-rustling item in his hands. I knew this would be the hard part–the real test was of my willpower, whether I’d be able to make it through without breaking, and judging by how turned on I was just at the start, that was looking unlikely. Still, I wouldn’t give up. I let Daddy push me down onto the floor, raised my bottom off the ground, let him wrap me up in the diaper. The tapes were secured down, sticking in place, snug and cozy around my hips. This was only the foreplay. Next came the object that filled me with both dread and intense, burning excitement. It started with a plastic cover, all black save for the pink biohazard warning printed on the front. An indicator of things to come, I knew. He pulled it up my legs, and with a satisfying click, locked the cover over my waist. There was no key. Instead, it’d been programmed to only unlock if I was able to go without making stickies for… I didn’t know how long. A few days. Maybe a week. Daddy hadn’t told me, and I’d asked him not to. But that wasn’t nearly the least of it, because the back of the black plastic had a large open valve on the back. Daddy rolled me onto my tummy, and I felt another click as a bifurcated pink length of tubing was locked into place onto the valve. Daddy took my face in his hands and pulled it up, so that he could lower a large, solid mask over my nose and mouth. I could feel the rubber make a firm seal over the bridge of my nose, see just the edge of the plastic shell in the edges of my vision, and smell the stale air and slightly chemical plastic odor. One more ‘click’, as the mask’s harness latched into place over the back of my face, pulling the seal tightly against my skin. Every breath I took would be through this mask, and through a mix of snug design and simple programming, I could not remove it of my own volition. Finally, Daddy lifted both ends of the split hose, and with a pair of clicks, locked it into the valves on my mask. A simple conduit was formed, pulling air from around the seat of my diaper up through the hose, directly to my nostrils. I heard a fan whirr to life, and immediately my sense of smell was assaulted by a puff of baby powder and fresh diaper odor. I squirmed. “Does my voice sound funny?” In my own ears, the words sounded muted and muffled, but Daddy shook his head. “I can hear you loud and clear, princess. You’re all dressed up now, so remember–if you cum into your diaper, the clock will reset, and if you decide to give up, I’m going to put your cage back onto you for three months.” Swallowing, I nodded. I’d asked for this–I wanted the humiliation, the looming threat of what would happen as my diaper stayed on. We exited VR, and I examined myself. The AR was imperfect, but close enough–I could still feel my diaper wedged between my thighs, hear the rustle, smell the baby powder scent being pumped up to my nostrils, but a slight cognitive overlap existed. My normal clothes existed overtop the simulated rubber and absorbent matter, and looking down, my diaper and cover seemed to clip through the bottom of my dress. “I’ll see if anyone has better fabric simulation code,” Daddy said. “It doesn’t bother me,” I replied. “Honestly, I’d almost feel bad asking for anything better than this.” I reached down, feeling the front of my diaper through its plastic cover, where my princess parts burned with already-all consuming desire. “So…” I said. “If the timer resets when I cum…” Daddy smirked, scooting up next to me. “I think I see where this is headed. Should we take this upstairs before you use up any more time?” Nodding eagerly, I got to my feet. … My desire for restraint held out only for a couple hours against my burning need to give in to my desires. I felt the first cramps the next morning, and knew by the end of the day that my diaper would be full. Already I’d been huffing the stale odor of pee that’d soaked into my thirsty padding, but I wanted the desperate degradation that would come from packing that diaper seat until it bulged in its cover. On the other hand, I had no idea how long I was expected to keep this going. I could be stuck in this suit for days, and no matter how artificial the simulation, it still felt totally real to me. The mask strapped to my face wasn’t precisely comfortable, but worse than that, I didn’t know if I’d be dooming myself to be stuck far past the point where it stopped being fun if I gave in too early. I finally gave in a little after lunchtime, when the busy rush for my delivery job had died down. Ducking into a gas station bathroom, I fumbled through the simulation to pull down the clothes I wore in reality–plain jeans and underwear–and sat down on the toilet. As far as I could feel, my diaper squelched against the seat, and when I leaned forward a little and pushed, warm, solid mush swelled in the seat of my diaper. The fans in the rig whirred to life, and the sensory results were almost instant. The foul, earthy stink from my rapidly-filling diaper assaulted my nostrils, and my eyes fluttered with deep pleasure and humiliation as I inhaled. My princess parts hummed with need, pleading that I indulge in the moment fully, but my self control fought that need back. I knew, if I gave in, that this would stop being fun and start being torture, that the only thing that could make this continue to be bearable–or even desirable–was my own burning desire. Were I to give in and grind against the front of my squelching, sagging diaper for a minute or two, I’d be trading who-knows-how-many days of discomfort for a mere moment of satisfaction. Standing, I flushed the toilet and pulled my pants up, struggling to close the button and zip them up over the bulk of my diaper, feeling the denim press my overfull padding against my body. Anyone who saw me would just see a girl in jeans with an inexplicable blush. They didn’t know that I was constantly huffing in the fumes of my own humiliation. Unable to keep my desires to myself, I texted Daddy. ‘Something happened…’ His response came swiftly. ‘Aww, did you make a stinky diaper? Breathe deep, baby girl. You only need to wait another–oh, right, it’s a surprise. Enjoy!’ Squirming, I considered pleading for a hint as to how long I’d be trapped with a direct conduit from the seat of my diaper to my own burning nostrils, but I knew he wouldn’t tell. That was his secret to keep, and mine to wonder about. All I can say is, for the rest of the work day, I was extremely distracted. … “Please?” I whimpered, kneeling at Daddy’s feet. Another day had passed, and my diaper had swollen even further. The saturated, sodden padding around my princess parts had me blushing at every slight movement, and my constant stink had saturated my thoughts, slowly forcing out my ability to think of anything beyond my predicament. I’d wondered if I would go noseblind, but the sensation was so intense that it hadn’t had the opportunity to occur, and as I re-loaded my diaper up, packing it fuller, the stink refreshed itself. At least rash wasn’t a problem–we’d left that off the simulation on purpose, and my skin wouldn’t rash from simulated mess. Daddy smirked down at me. “I’m sorry, baby girl, but no. We can’t take your mask off and let you forget what a stinker you are, can we?” “But…” I stammered. “But I want to…” There were technically ways to object to his conclusion. I was able to partially ignore the simulation when I needed to eat or drink, suspending the simulation of the rubber mask strapped over my nose and mouth for long enough to get fuel into my body, but that was only due to necessity. And as much as I claimed otherwise, having Daddy’s cock in my mouth wasn’t a necessity. I knew it was a point of contention for him too–all his favorite holes were occupied and covered up–but he got more satisfaction out of seeing me whimper and plead than from giving in to my begging. All I knew was that I wanted pleasure, and if I couldn’t get it for myself, then focusing that energy on satisfying Daddy would have to serve as a sufficient substitute. Eyes huge and desperate, I asked, “Can I use my hands then?” He smiled broadly and nodded down at me. “Maybe…but first I need you to beg a little more for me.” … Four days. Four. I was on my last day until the weekend came, which was good, because my brain had been utterly consumed by one thing and one thing only, and that left little room for work. I stank. The smell of my diaper had drifted in through my nose and replaced my adult thoughts. I felt perpetually high, the perpetual cloud of mushy odors intoxicating. To do anything other than whimper and grind into my diaper took active, constant effort, and the desire to slip further into the smelly haze sang to me like a constant siren song. Near the end of my work day, I stopped into a gas station restroom, sinking into my massive mess over the toilet seat. I had to stifle a moan, my face burning red as I pushed out even more mass into my diaper. By now, it just seemed to vanish into the ever-swelling mountain of smushy weight, but this one seemed more intense than ever–more solid, more squelchy, more smelly. Wandering out of the bathroom in a daze, I finished the last two deliveries and puttered home, waddling heavily inside. Daddy was already there, and when he looked up at me, his expression went from amusement to surprise. “Baby girl–” “Hi, Daddy,” I said, falling into his arms. This was where I wanted to be. “Baby,” he repeated, reaching down to squeeze the back of my diaper. “Erm…you forgot to pull down your pants.” I blinked, confused. I…what? But my diaper… Oh… Oh no… My diaper wasn’t real. I knew that. But I’d forgotten to slip off my pants and underwear last time I used the toilet, and while I loaded up my simulated diaper, I also messed myself, in real life, without noticing. My face flushed bright red, blushing from forehead to chin. “I–um–” “Shh, it’s okay,” Daddy said, hugging me tighter. “I doubt anyone noticed. This is why you need diapers, silly.” Thinking back to strange expressions in the gas station I’d stopped to use the bathroom at, I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t argue. Sniffing, I got a pure whiff of my stink. “How much longer, Daddy?” He paused. “Alright, I’ll tell you. I’d planned on making you wait until the end of the weekend, but if you’re too overwhelmed we can stop now.” The weekend… Two and a half days, give or take. I could wait that long. I shook my head. “I can make it, Daddy.” He smiled. “Alright, then, but let’s get you into a real diaper too–can’t have you ruining anymore of your big girl clothes, can we?” Nodding, I followed him to the bedroom to get clean, without really getting clean at all. … No thinking, just stinking. I could barely move. I’d gone past horny, any slight movement and squelch sent shivers down my spine. I was just a smelly, drooling thing, my mind overtaken by the state of my diaper. I’d lost track of whether my real, non-simulated diaper was clean or dirty. All I knew was stink, and sniff, and whimper. Daddy walked in, returning from…something. I didn’t know how long he’d been gone. He looked at me, surprised. “Have you been sitting there since I left?” I nodded, pawing impotently at the front of my bulging diaper, through the rustling plastic cover. “I’ve been gone for three hours,” he said. “What were you doing?” Opening my mouth, I mumbled a response, something like, ‘Stinking’, though the words were jumbled. Smirking, Daddy crouched down in front of me. “I think you’ve been a good girl all week,” he said. “Filling your diapers like a champ. Are you ready for your reward?” My…reward? I fought to focus my thoughts. He meant…OH! YES! Nodding eagerly, I said, “Please?” Daddy toggled something, and then reached up and pinched his nose. “Oh, it’s–escaping the suit, some. How can you breathe?” I just nodded again, eyes huge and pleading. Reaching down, Daddy pressed his hand into the front of my diaper, squelching everything against my princess parts. “You may, baby girl.” That was all the permission I needed. Throwing myself into the act, I began to rock into his hand, humping the front of my diaper furiously. I didn’t need long. I’d practically been edging for a week. Fire and ice and pleasure so intense it turned my limbs to jelly rolled through me, and I collapsed forward, into Daddy’s arms. I wrinkled my nose. “Um–” He pulled the mask free of my face, and I got my first whiff of comparatively clean air in a week. From his own expression, the smell was still bad, but the intensity was so comparatively minor that to me it was fresh daisies and spring wind. Kissing me on the forehead, Daddy said, “You did good, baby girl. I’m proud of you.” “Thanks, Daddy,” I replied. “Can we do this again sometime?” He nodded. “Of course, baby girl.” I squirmed in delight. ... Support the author: https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

This story was written as a collaboration with @PoofyLoogs, over on Twitter! He's a Hypermess & Furry artist, and we worked together to create this story - and then he drew an illustration for it! You can check out the illustration here, and I highly encourage you to go over to his Twitter and tell him how much he stinks - he did a great job on the art and I'm really pleased with how this story turned out. This is part one, parts two and three will be coming in the following weeks! ... “Um… um…” Jake couldn’t help but stare. When he’d walked into the room, Cynthia’s eyes had been glued on her phone, holding it up to try and get the perfect selfie. The perfect selfie to show off her totally naked chest, and the magic wand vibrator pressed between her legs… And, the object that drew the most confusion and startlement from Jake, the large, sagging, visibly overloaded diaper around her waist. He dropped his keys, lost in the attempt to try and make sense of the scene in front of him. That’s when the smell hit him, and he had to raise a hand to his snout to try and ward it away. He knew she was a skunk, but the overpowering stink from her diaper still shocked him. “What the heck are you doing?” Cynthia, for her part, had at least blushed when he walked in on her. She wasn’t totally naked, she had on thigh-highs and a collar that matched her white-and-black fur, but that didn’t really do much for modesty. “What are you doing here?” she retorted, dropping her phone onto the couch. “We had plans!” Jake objected. “You said to come over Friday afternoon and we’d go to the mall!” She hesitated, glancing off into space and replaying her memories for a moment. “I…crap, I thought today was Thursday.” “So, again, what are you doing?” Jake demanded, his voice pitched in nasal tones as he tried to protect his sense of smell from her diaper. He could almost see fumes coming off it. “Did you put on–no, stupid question. Why did you put on a diaper and crap yourself?” Rubbing the back of her neck, Cynthia’s tail raised and she chuckled nervously. “It’s fun.” “You like it?” Jake asked. He couldn’t help it, he smirked. Cynthia tended to tease him about his various habits and interests–now, he finally had some ammo to push back. Drawing in a shallow breath, he said in sing-song, “Little baby cynthia, peeing in her pants, she can’t see london ‘cause she pooped on france!” Cynthia rolled her eyes, stepping closer to him. She still had her wand in her hand, though she’d at least clicked it off. “Yeah, I do like it. It feels great, and nobody stinks like I do.” “You can say that again,” Jake snickered, trying another shot at it. “I’m surprised they let little babies into magic camp! How full is that thing? It looks like you backed a dump truck and just loaded it!” “Oh, I’m not a little baby,” Cynthia replied. “I know exactly what I am–and that just happens to include being someone who occasionally destroys a diaper or two–plus, you should watch your mouth, since I got better marks on enchanting than you. What’s that make you, if someone who stinks as bad as me is still better than you, hmm?” Hesitating, Jake sniffed. Now that she was standing right in front of him, the smell coming off her sagging diaper was truly all encompassing, and he was having trouble trying to think of a way to tease her. “Ugh, watch out for your paint–I think it’s going to start to peel,” he tried. She just laughed. “You…” Creeping a little closer, she lowered the wand, tapping the bulb at the end against the front of his shorts. “You should try it, foxy. You might never stink as good as me, but hey–you might learn something about yourself.” He stammered for a response, but nothing came to mind. She’d just swaggered right up–waddled right up, really–and stolen his thunder. Tossing the wand onto the couch, she said, “I’ll go shower so you can breathe, dummy. You still want to hang out, right?” Speaking with shallow breaths, he said, “Uh…yeah. Yes, sure.” But his thoughts were elsewhere. Cynthia went to change, but the smell of her diaper lingered long after she’d left. Jake knew he should just go wait outside, get some fresh air, but something about the encounter had paralyzed him. All he could do was stand there, taking shallow breaths while his mind reeled. “Really couldn’t get enough of my stink, huh?” Cynthia asked, snapping him out of his daze. He hesitated. “Huh?” “I’ve been gone for fifteen minutes and you’re still just huffing,” Cynthia giggled. She’d changed into a blue top and a skirt, more her usual attire–and glancing down, Jake didn’t see a diaper poking out. “Didn’t even open a window, it’s almost like you’re enjoying yourself.” Jake blushed–why am I blushing?–and looked away. “No, I just…whatever. Let’s get going.” “Need to use the bathroom before we leave?” Cynthia teased. “Or if you’d like, I’m happy to share a diaper.” “N-no!” he stammered. “I don’t stink up the place like a little baby.” “Maybe you should.” The skunk retrieved her keys, swaggering to the door. “You did seem to like it.” … Cynthia was wrong. And stupid. And definitely hadn’t planted any ideas in Jake’s head during that visit. Absolutely not. Certainly not. He just ordered a pack of diapers off the internet that night for totally unrelated reasons, and paid for expedited shipping on a whim. Unlike Cynthia though, he was going to make some changes. He wouldn’t just ruin his flat by stinking up the whole place. He just wanted to try using the diaper, but staying in it for long was off the table. He’d put one on, wet it, and then take it off right away. The package arrived that next afternoon, while he was in the middle of an online game with Cynthia and a few other friends. Not wanting a package of a dozen diapers to sit out on the stoop where any neighbor might accidentally grab it and open it, he hesitated. “Uh, be right back.” “What?” Cynthia demanded. “We’re getting swarmed–” “Can’t pause, gotta run for a sec–” he started, setting down his controller and removing his headset so he could run to the door. By the time he returned a minute later, his team had been overwhelmed by zombies, and a new match was queuing. “What the hell, Jake?” one of their other friends demanded, as he put his headset back on. “Had to run–” he started, thinking up the first excuse he could. “Bathroom.” “Couldn’t hold it for two minutes?” “Yeah,” Cynthia added, and Jake picked up the humor in her tone. “Why can’t you be more like us, Jake? You never see me running off to use the toilet while we play.” Wait, she doesn’t–Jake thought. “Then again, you play like crap,” he shot, trying to gauge her reaction. “Hey, if you don’t like that I stink, don’t play with me,” Cynthia replied. Yup, she has a diaper on. “Can you two quit bickering so we can get back to the game?” And with that, the gameplay resumed, but Jake’s mind stayed on the package a few feet away. An hour later, as the game ended, he finally had a chance to rip it open, all the while telling himself he was just trying it out to confirm that Cynthia was making stuff up. He didn’t like diapers, he just needed to get it out of his system. He wouldn’t be like Cynthia, though. He wanted to try using a diaper, but he wouldn’t just sit and stew in it. He didn’t want to deal with cleanup, either–just as soon as he was done, he wanted the proof of his accident to be gone, so he could take off the diaper, clean himself off, and go on with his life confident in the knowledge that he wasn’t a weirdo like Cynthia. Fortunately, he knew a bit of magic. Not fully-fledged wizard magic, but enough to get by. Sure, it was a bit reckless to invent a homebrew spell given his skill level, but what’s the worst that could happen? He’d have to take a shower after all. Marking out a few notes on a pad, he tried to remember his latin as he worded the spell. “Let’s see…I want it to hold up when I use it, but self clean as soon as it’s used.” He went through the conjugations, checked it over twice, and lit a candle to cast the spell. He knew the magic worked–or, at least, that it had caused some kind of effect–when the candle blew itself out. He had himself a perfectly enchanted diaper, and was ready to get this out of his system. Slipping off his pants and boxers, he turned the diaper over in his hands a couple times, lining up the tapes with the back. Flopping back onto the couch, he wriggled it into place, folded it up over his waist, frowned at the erection that’d formed between his legs, and tried to just tape it in place. He did a crap job. His diaper ended up lopsided, mangled, and was about ready to fall off–and, because the tapes were sticky, he couldn’t just peel them off and try again. He’d have to get a new diaper, re-cast the spell, and start all over from scratch. Rather than try that, he reached over to the coffee table until he reached his lighter. Snagging it, he re-lit the candle and cast another quick spell. “Let’s see…Latin for securing the tapes so it’ll stay in place…” he mumbled the words, and in an instant, the diaper snapped into a solid, snug-but-not-uncomfortable position over his waist. Perfect. Now he just needed– “Oh, wow,” he said, as his belly gurgled, almost as though on cue. He felt a pressure on his bladder as well, as though the mere act of putting on the diaper had made him need to go. It was like when he got back from a long car drive, as soon as he was within striking distance of a toilet, he’d suddenly feel that pressure–this just had to be the same thing, right? “Fine,” he said. “Let’s do this, get it out of the way.” Standing, he tried to let go. A bit of effort, and a grunt, but a mental block told him ‘no’. So, he tried again. Spreading his legs, Jake squatted down, extended his butt, and allowed his golden red tail to hike up into the air. His bladder released, flooding the front of his diaper even through a half erection, and a moment later his guts gave in and obeyed. With a little grunt, he overcame two decades and change of practice at keeping his pants clean and felt the mush spill out of him, pushing out his diaper to make room. Jake surprised himself with how badly he needed to go–his bladder was still draining after almost forty five seconds, and he had to make an effort to keep pushing, keep packing the seat of his diaper. He wasn’t sure what he’d eaten that had produced such a reaction, but… But… The way his mess bulged into his diaper, spreading between his legs while the padding grew sodden and heavy, stirred something inside him. And even as he was still going, when the smell hit him, a gentle whiff of the stink coming off his diaper, that definitely made him feel something. He didn’t smell nearly as bad as Cynthia had, but that was okay–she’d been far, far too ripe for any person to possibly stand. But this, on the other hand, almost– “No!” he said out loud, though he couldn’t compel his body to stop dumping into his diaper. “I don’t–I don’t like this! I can’t like this, I’m not some sort of–whatever.” The stream was finally starting to taper off, and he was finally, mercifully, empty. As his bladder stopped dribbling, he stood, ready for the self cleaning magic to kick in. Then, he could take this diaper off and forget about this whole experience. A second passed, then two. The diaper didn’t self clean. “Dammit,” he mumbled. “Stupid messed up magic spell. Guess I’ll have to clean up the crappy way.” Reaching down, Jake seized the first of four tapes on his diaper, prying it free. He really should have waddled to the bathroom first, but he wanted out of this right away. As he reached for his second tape, though, the first one snapped right back down. “Uh…” he said, pulling it free again. This time, it jerked out of his fingers, sealing itself back in place, so that the diaper wouldn’t be free. The third time he tried, he couldn’t even find purchase on the tape. Frowning, he tried to just tug the diaper free like a pair of underwear. The material stretched, so it had to come off, right? No dice. No matter how much he pushed down on the waistband, it refused to budge, as though an equal and opposite force fought him. He was stuck. And his belly had begun gurgling again.

Boom. Glass and brick shoots out from the side of the Central City Research Institute, showering the surrounding yard with debris, hitting nearby skyscrapers and busting out further windows with the aftershock. Outside, civilians scream and run, scattering in all directions, fleeing in terror from the smoke that billows from the institute’s rapid unscheduled exit. A coiled metal hose shoots out, four claws at the end slamming down over the nearest fire hydrant. Water sprays, and is then consumed, pumping into the hose at an incredible pace. Another hose launches out and stabs into dirt, a point of leverage. From within, the creature releases a sloshy, sucking bellow, and drags itself out. Forty feet tall, with a dozen such hoses extending from its base, it’s made of steel and pristine white porcelain. Without legs or wheels, it can only drag itself forward with the hoses, leaving deep furrows in the ground behind it where its weight tears up dirt and pavement alike. Resembling nothing more than an enormous mechanized toilet, the creature rampages free out into the streets of Central City. Most people run. One man, tie flapping in the wind, is caught by the hoses. The mecha’s lid opens, and he’s thrown inside, screaming until it slams shut, flushes, and he’s lost beneath. Only two people aren’t fleeing. One–a girl named Kelly–has stopped, confused, staring at the other. She frowns, uncertain what she’s looking at. The other is a young woman, dressed in a business casual top and loose skirt, half-moon glasses hiding bright blue eyes. She’s crouched by the sidewalk, knees spread, face screwed up and cheeks puffed out as she pushes. Noticing she has an audience, she puffs and grunts, “Do you–mind?” “Um…” Kelly says, distracted as another flushing bellow echoes a hundred feet away. “What are you doing?” The crouching woman shoots her a glare. “Pooping myself, what does it look like?” Kelly stammers a moment longer, then her attention is stolen. A hundred feet away, the mecha seizes a car and flings it with no particular aim–it skips and skids over the pavement, bouncing off a parked bus, and careens straight towards her. She can only stare, a deer caught in the headlights, until– Wham! A blur of pink interjects itself between her and the car. The vehicle stops, bouncing off like the tide against rocks. Standing where the car just hit, wielding a baby rattle with a head as large as a basketball and shield reminiscent of a pacifier guard, stands the woman–her glasses are gone, and her hair has billowed out into long pigtails, but he recognizes her anyways. She’s suckling a pacifier that matches her shield, and her clothes have vanished, replaced by a pink top and a skirt barely four inches long, doing nothing to hide the drooping diaper between her legs. “Who are you?” Kelly asks. Her eyes glow as she responds, floating slowly up from the ground with every word. Though she has a pacifier in her mouth, it makes her voice no less clear. “With the might in my Moonbeam Rattle, and the power of my Baby’s Guard, I am Starlight Boom-Boom–Champion of Earth!” She drops back down, stretching out her arms. “You should run.” “Did you–are you–” Kelly stammers. “Why’d you poop your pants?” “I had to fight,” Starlight replies, simply, before turning and lunging at the mechanized toilet. Rotating, the monster points one of its many hoses at Starlight, blasting her with a jet of water powerful enough to cut through steel beams. Starlight raises her shield, deflecting the blow, but the force of the aqua jet throws her back into a nearby hot dog stand and she collapses through it. She stands up, bloodied but–no, wait. She stands up, covered in ketchup but ready to get back into the fight. Kelly stares. The street has cleared, but she can’t help but watch as the poopy-pampered superheroine goes to battle with the colossal commode. She slips under its next water jet, dodges around a swipe, and yells out a shrill battle cry: “Massive Rattle Blow!” She brings her toy down on its porcelain body, sending a spiderweb of cracks across its body before jumping up and grabbing the toilet tank cover. She flips it over and dives inside, seizing the unfortunate businessman who’s sodden but still breathing. Setting him off on the sidewalk, she runs back towards the fray. Uninterested in her, the toilet drags itself forward, seizing another fire hydrant and pumping water away from the city, into itself. As it does, the hydration seals the cracks that Starlight just opened, healing from the damage she inflicted. Starlight leaps at it again, but this time, the monster is ready–a hose arm lashes out, seizes her immediately, and pounds her into the ground repeatedly, flinging her back and forth like a ragdoll. Her rattle goes flying, and she’s ultimately tossed aside, slumping against a nearby wall. “Starlight!” Kelly calls, running towards the , but before she can make it ten steps, Starlight is standing again, knees wavering. Kelly hesitates, stride catching, wondering aloud, “What is she…doing…oh.” With a blrrttch that echoes across the open city street, Starlight Boom-Boom fulfills her namesake, her diaper expanding to the size of a swollen beach ball beneath her absurdly short miniskirt. The mass stains her padding a deep brown and it falls with a fwump, drooping to the tops of her knees, but something in the act seems to energize her. She stands taller, if bow-legged, and extends her hand. Kelly catches the shucka-shucka sound and ducks as the rattle whizzes over her head, flying into Starlight’s hand. Reinvigorated, the heroine charges at the mecha again, moving so fast that she leaves blurred air and a faint green puff of smell behind her. “Lightning Potty Strike!” Expecting the fight to turn, Kelly watches, but it seems futile–every blow that Starlight rains down, the monster seems able to effortlessly heal, soaking up water from the city’s many fire hydrants. It continues wailing at her, jets of icy water and flailing hoses trying to swipe at the heroine, but though its many attacks miss, it just doesn’t seem to care–it continues dragging itself across Main Street, moving with purpose, tossing cars and ripping up hydrants in its wake. So, Kelly does something the heroine can’t–she turns and runs towards the Central City Research Institute. The smoke has mostly cleared by the time she picks her way through the broken wall. Inside is chaos–shards of broken toilets are everywhere, and shelves of toilet paper, tissues, and even golf balls have been strewn aside, making the space a tripping hazard to navigate. Beneath one of those racks, a man coughs, reaching out weakly. “Help…” Kelly runs to him. She’s not imbued with any super strength, and loading up her panties won’t help her do any heroic feats, but with a bit of grunting she lifts the shelf. “What is that thing?” “Forgive us,” the scientist stammers, crawling out on hands and knees. His faint German accent seems faded by time in the US, but still comes through ever so slightly. “We…we knew not the forces with which we meddled.” “I don’t understand,” Kelly says. “Why did you make this… thing?” “We were blinded by ambition,” he whispers hoarsely, fumbling to pick up his glasses from the ground. “We desired only to create the world’s most advanced toilet, but we pushed the limits of morality and science alike. Our hubris was our downfall–we taught it to fix itself, and to flush, but never morality.” Fearing at his words, Kelly asks, “What is it? What is it?” He swallows. “It’s the Potty Monster.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, Kelly demands, “Do you know what it wants?” Eyes huge behind thick glass, he can only speak the answer in a whisper, “Water.” Kelly understands. “The treatment plant–it’s going for the treatment plant?” “You must stop it,” he says, nodding quickly. “If it gets there, it’ll be unstoppable!” Kelly turns, running out into the street to warn Starlight, but she’s met quickly with a streak of pink and brown, soaring through the air and crashing into the dirt next to her. Starlight stands up, wiping away drool from her chin and under her pacifier guard, mumbling, “Meaniehead caught me napping–won’t happen again.” “It’s trying to get to the water treatment plant!” Kelly warns. “It’s using water to heal,” Starlight adds. “I can’t let that happen!” “What are you going to do?” Starlight turns pink. “Um…Could you not watch for this part? There’s not much left in the tank, but…erm…” Kelly nods, politely averting her gaze, though she can’t avert her sense of smell or turn off her ears. Starlight’s grunts of effort are obvious, trying to get out every last bit of muck, and the blrrrch and blorts rumbling in her diaper are hardly subtle. When Kelly looks back, the abused garment is so full and heavy it’s well past her knees, and Starlight’s steps squelch like she’s waddling through waist deep mud, but her stride seems to only have gotten quicker. Lunging forward into the air, she dives at the Potty Monster once again, crossing a full city block in a single smelly bound. Huffing and puffing, Kelly runs to the side of the street, unable to keep up with the super. After half a block, she gives up, resting her hands on her knees. “Too… much… running.” Two blocks down, Starlight brings her rattle down, swiping away. Where she hits, porcelain cracks and chips, shards scattering into the street, but water surges out of those cracks and heals them as quickly as she can deal damage. And, though she’s stronger and more agile, Starlight is weighed down, dragging her swollen diaper behind her. She evades, blocks, and parries the hoses and claws lashing out at her, readying for an almighty attack. “Ultimate! Tantrum! Forever!” Discarding her shield, she takes the rattle in both hands, raises it, and prepares to bring it down, but the intelligence behind the Potty Monster gets wise–lashing out from behind her where she can’t quickly see or react, and instead of going for an arm or a leg it grabs her by the diaper. Starlight swallows. “Oh, no–” Wham! The Potty Monster flings her down, so hard it leaves a crater in the pavement. Before she can stand, it strikes her again, knocking her against a brick wall, then seizes her by the leg and flips its seat up. Swinging her rattle wildly, she tries to bat away the claw holding her, but it grabs her with half a dozen more, rips under her skirt, and with a loud, splorchy, fwump, her diaper falls off and lands inside the toilet. The seat slams shut, and with a floosh, Starlight’s power is flushed away. Her outfit bursts into light, and her weapons vanish. Now harmless, the woman is tossed aside, thrown into a row of hedges out in front of a cafe. She stands, staggering, trying to fight again, but her strength is gone, and even when she balls up her face and tries to push, nothing comes out. “Starlight!” Kelly calls, pedaling furiously on a borrowed bike to catch up to the . “Are you okay?” Starlight looks at her, terrified and helpless. “I can’t–it changed my diaper! I can’t fight!” Ditching the bike, Kelly runs up to her. “Can’t you go again? Just…go on yourself, like before?” Shaking her head, Starlight lifts her skirt to show that her stained panties have returned. “I’m…empty. Can’t keep going.” “Gotcha.” Kelly looks around. “Then…is there someone else? We can’t let the Potty Monster reach the treatment plant.” “There’s…” Starlight hesitates. “Er, there’s one way.” Kelly nods. “What? Do you need something?” Reaching into her blouse pocket, Starlight hands Kelly a chocolate bar wrapped in aluminum foil. “Eat this. The whole thing.” “Okay,” Kelly says, acting on impulse–there was no time to question. Chomping down on the bar, she chews and swallows. “What was that?” “Laxative,” Starlight explains, producing a small pacifier clip from her purse. “Clip this to your shirt.” “L–laxative?” Kelly says with a start, blinking. Starlight just shakes her head. “Hurry.” Kelly pins on the clip, nodding. “And?” “Congratulations, you’re a temporary member of the Boom Boom force,” Starlight explains. “Pick a name, and then…squat down.” “Oh,” Kelly says, realizing. She feels her tummy gurgle, the laxatives already working their way down in her system. “Um…name. Name… how about just ‘Mega’? That’s got a classic feel to it.” “Alright.” Starlight pats her on the head, in something between a gesture of affection and a knighting. “I pronounce you Mega Boom-Boom.” Blinking and shaking her head, Kelly starts to say, “Wait, I get the last name too? But–” Before she can finish her thought, the laxatives kick in, and she feels her panties suddenly swell with an impossible tidal wave of mush. And, in that same moment, she changes. Her hair doubles in length, braiding itself into pigtails, and her outfit vanishes–fabric transmuting in seconds from pants and a t-shirt to a billowy, heavily laced green dress that only comes down slightly further than Starlight’s skirt, white frills keeping the hem line poofy. And, of course, her panties changed too, thickening, becoming absorbent, becoming protective enough to deal with the sudden catastrophe between her legs. The expanding mess pours out of her, bloating her diaper until it’s at least as impressive as Starlight’s had been; a mud bath taped around her waist. Above all, though, she suddenly felt strong. Powerful, surging with adrenaline like she’d never experienced. “Do I get a weapon?” she asked, noting her empty hands. “Pick one,” Starlight says. “Name it, and it’ll come to you.” “Okay,” Kelly says, the mudslide into her diaper ceasing. Turning, she says, “I already know what I want.” With that, she dashes forward, kicking off the pavement so hard it left a pothole. Crossing a city block in a single bound, leaving a stink trail in her wake, Kelly–Mega Boom-Boom–soars at the back of the Potty Monster, hand outstretched. It was only a block away from the treatment plant now–too close. “My weapon is–” she calls out, grabbing the top of the tank, “A plunger! In her hands, a plastic and rubber tool as long as she is tall, with a plunging head two feet wide, appears. Suddenly full of terror, the Potty Monster shrieks, hoses lunging at Mega, but she bats them away, wielding the plunger like a polearm. One hose manages to whack her on the butt and she tumbles forward, landing on the seat, but with a thrust she sticks the plunger head to the toilet seat and–with a handhold to grab onto–she flips back into the air. And, coming to her as naturally as breathing, she identifies the names of her attacks in the same breath that she unleashes them. “Suction Love Strike!” she calls, using the leverage to pry the lid open, though the Potty Monster fights her. Whipping around and grabbing the open lid with a free hand, she keeps it open, raises her plunger, and thrusts it down into the Potty Monster’s open bowl. “You’ve gone far enough!” The monster shrieks and sloshes, water backing up suddenly as her plunger seals the hole, preventing any water flow. Its hoses try to spray her, but they fizzle out without pressure and hiss harmlessly at her, water trickling from the nozzles. “Mega Plunge Forever!” Squatting so low her diaper touches the rim, Mega Boom-Boom ensures her plunger isn’t going anywhere, then lunges up, driving her fist into the porcelain of the Potty Monster. It cracks thunderously, and this time, though it shrieks and tries to bat her away, nothing heals the wounds. Raising up her free hand, a hairbrush large enough to serve a pizza on appears, a secondary weapon for which only one move could be possible: “ONE THOUSAND SPANKS JUSTICE!” Bringing down the flat of the brush, she unleashes an infinity of lightning attacks. Blow after blow, raining down spanks against porcelain that can no longer repair itself. In desperation, the Potty Monster drags itself towards the water treatment plant entrance, but Mega stops it once and for all. Jumping up, she hits the handle, and with a floosh, water floods into the bowl, and with nowhere else to go, starts spilling over the top. Drained of its power and energy, the Potty Monster shrieks, shudders, and stops. With a final, almighty blow, Mega Boom-Boom leaps up, brings her messy, diapered butt down in a finisher move, and blasts the potty into porcelain powder. In the debris, all that’s left is a small terminal and an array of wiggling hoses, disconnected from the monster’s body. Mega picks up the terminal, turning it over in her hands. ‘Property of Central City Research Institute’, it read, written on the side in white marker. ‘Proprietary–if found, return to Doctor Stein Von Kindchen.’ She looks around. Overhead, news helicopters have their cameras directed at her, and from the surrounding buildings, civilians come out to see if the coast is clear. Diaper on full display, stained and smushy, Mega Boom-Boom blushes. From the side of the street, though, Starlight limps towards her. “You did it.” “I did,” Mega says. “My face–I don’t look any different, even if my clothes–” “Don’t worry,” Starlight promises, stepping up and squeezing her hand. “Nobody will recognize you. I can help you change, that’ll return you to normal.” Mega smiles, a bit of Kelly shining through. “Thanks.” Nodding to the terminal, Starlight asks, “Doctor Stein von Kindchen? Who’s that?” Looking down, Mega Boom-Boom crushes the terminal in her hands, destroying the research once and for all. “Just someone who needs to work on his Potty Training.” ... I hope you had fun with this creative indulgence in tropey, shlocky, stinky fun! If you want to support my writing and get early access, bonus content, and my gratitude, you can do so here! Or if you'd rather do SubscribeStar instead of Patreon - the services are the same, so it's down to platform preference - click here!