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Disclaimer I sampled The Hypnotist's Volunteer By Horatio Husky And basically removed the furry aspects among other changes in this rewrite The inside of the theatre was already packed and buzzing with various excited people chatting with each other as Terry walked over to his seat near the front aisles. Good thing I bought my seat ahead of time... but the traffic could have been better he mused to himself, as a feeling of annoyance and anxiousness entered his mind when he saw how many people he had to climb over to reach his seat. Several chatty people, a beautiful looking fox, and a particularly grumpy looking bear of a man sat between him and his seat. "Excuse me... Pardon me... Sorry excuse me!" The slightly nervous looking guy shuffled sideways through just as the lights in the theatre dimmed. An audible "Ooh!" came from the crowd, as purple smoke curled from a break in the curtains at center stage. As a blue spotlight shown down onto the parting in the curtains out strode a tall godess in billowing robes covered in large, silver, five-pointed stars. Her arms were raised above her head, as if she were about to embrace the skies above. Across her face was painted a knowing smile, and she cooly observed the crowd before her with perceptive eyes. With a voice as clear and piercing as water from a glacier, she exclaimed to her audience, "My name is Ashley! Master of the mind and sorceress of seduction! Observe my fair viewers, as tonight's performance shall demonstrate the true and vast abilities of hypnotism!" The crowd grew silent in anticipation, eager eyes watching and waiting to see what a godess with such gripping stage presence would do next. She lowered one of her arms and pointed a finger to her lips, surveying the seated furs in front of her slowly and methodically. "In order to demonstrate my connection with the ethereal and the mysterious I shall need a volunteer from the audience!" Her eyes landed on the guy who had just managed to settle down in his seat, his movement probably catching her eye. As her green eyes connected with his, his gaze to his feet and he kneaded his fists in his lap, praying that she wouldn't choose him. As his luck would have it, that day truly was not his. She pointed at him, white spotlights quickly swiveling and shining on top of him from three sources. He blinked and raised his hands in front of his eyes, temporarily blinded. The beautiful hypnotist proclaimed, "You there! I choose you as our volunteer! Does my audience agree!" The disgruntled looking man, who had been less than pleased at having his feet stepped on cheered loudly, "Yes! Pick him!" Terry's cheeks flushed bright scarlet as others joined in, suddenly finding himself surrounded by a large crowd of people egging him onto the stage. Fearing the retaliation of the crowd now if he refused, he took a deep internal breath and stood up, much to the gratification and cheering of the people around him. He shuffled back out of the aisle almost right after he had sat down, this time the people in his way even standing up for him to slip past. Before he had quite internalized that he was standing in front of several hundred people on stage, the fox found himself standing next to the beautiful godess, who as it just so happened, stood a good foot above him in height. "Thank you for agreeing to volunteer! Now then, what is your name, little guy?" Cheeks still flushed, and left ear twitching nervously, he responded into the microphone that a stage hand had rather abruptly thrust into his hands. "Urhm... My name is Terrence, Terry for short" he replied lamely, nerves fluttering as he reminded himself to take deep breaths. The hypnotist smiled approvingly, she raised her arms once more, vocating, "Everyone please give a round of applause for our volunteer, Terry!" The crowd complied with enthusiasm, Terry even hearing the sarcastic jeer of the man he had trod on exclaiming his amusement. As the crowd died down once more the Godess withdrew her hands from his shoulders, and turned to face him now directly. "Alright then Terry, follow my instructions closely. When I count to three I would like you to close your eyes and clear your mind as best as you can. Let the only thing that enters it be my voice and my voice only." Terry nodded, feelings of self-consciousness and apprehension poorly dampened by his vain attempts to calm himself down for her instructions. Ashley spoke slowly, her intense green eyes locked with his own, "One... Two... Three..." I obediently shut my eyes. "Now then little guy, today we're going to try a particular type of hypnotism often used as a therapy against those who find themselves having difficulty realizing their true desires and wants. We shall be engaging in a type of regressive therapy, particular that of behavioral control and internal sensual rearrangement. I will be in control of the entire process and shall administer it throughout. When I count to three once more, I will be holding a stopwatch in front of you. You are to look at it and not waver in your stare no matter what, as well as repeat exactly what I say after I say it, nod if you understand." Meekly, I bobbed my head, blond hair flopping slightly over his eyes which he quickly brushed away with a hand. "Alright, on the count of three open your eyes. One... Two... Three!" Terry opened his eyes, and was immediately transfixed by the golden, circular object hung by a chain before him. Ashley was much closer to him now, and he could feel her breath brushing against his face as she spoke to him, her voice blaring over the speakers with a surprising clarity that filled his mind. The pocket watch began to swing methodically side to side, his eyes following it intently and his jaw hanging slightly agape, but he didn't notice it. His mind was only filled with her words and the pocket watch, gracefully swinging back and forth at a steady pace. A tempo that he soon found himself lost in. He could faintly remember the Godess telling him to relax, as well as to open his mind to instructions. He repeated the lines dutifully, and knew that he said many more lines after that. But try as he might the moment he reiterated her instructions he forgot what exactly it was that he said. He felt those words settle deep inside of him, however. Locked in a place in his mind that his conscious thoughts couldn't access, but which his subconscious thinking knew was there deep inside of him. Try as he might he was so fixated with repeating the words and following the motions of the pocket watch he could not remember the words he repeated after her. Unbeknownst to him, his open mouth had now began to drool slightly, much to the stifled giggles of many of the people in the audience. Still he heard nothing except the hypnotist, and saw nothing except the swinging pocket watch. Suddenly, he heard a sharp snap. He shook his head, blinking wildly and staggering back a few steps. He realized that Ashley had snapped her fingers, shaking him out of his trance. He looked around confused, he seemed to now be fully aware of his surroundings, his mind writhed in complete and utter confusion. Did it work? Am I hypnotized? Why do I still feel awake? Is the whole thing over already? What did she make me do? But all I remember is the pocket watch and saying things... Maybe she failed? Maybe my head is too nervous or too strong to be hypnotized? Ashley spoke up now, pointing at his chest and in a different tone than the hypnotizing melody that came out of her lips before, issued an order, "Terry, take off your shirt at once!" Without thought the fox immediately felt his arms raising up as he gripped the collar of his shirt, swiftly pulling it off of himself and letting it fall from his hand to the floor. He frowned, and looked down confused at the shirt now lying in front of him. Huh? He thought to himself, confused. The crowd oohed and aahed in response, and the hypnotist looked very pleased with herself. "It would seem that it has worked perfectly! You, my dear little guy, are now under a state of hypnosis where you shall obey my commands!" The fox crossed his arms, the turmoil in his head manifesting itself in denial and rebellion. He shook his head, half trying to convince himself as he replied. "N-no I'm not, I did that of my own volition! I don't feel hypnotized I still feel like I'm awake?" The hypnotist cocked her eyebrow, a coy smile playing upon her lips as she shrugged her shoulders, clearly amused by Terry's attempts at convincing her that her hypnotic skills hadn't worked on him. In a tone of mock seriousness, she replied to him, "Alright then Mr. If you're so resistant to my hypnosis, then how come you really, really want to obey everything I'm going to tell you to do?" I digested this for an instant, before a feeling of dread filled his stomach as I came to the realization that her words resonated with truth. He did have a feeling inside of himself, like a nervous potential energy ready inside of him to obey whatever commands were to be issued by the kangaroo. He shook his head, eyes closed as if he were trying to shake those feelings and thoughts out of his head. Now the expression of the hypnotist changed to one of determination. Still smiling, she pointed at him, and twirled her finger around in a circle as she commanded. "Now, now then little guy. Lay down as I put you into more appropriate attire for somebody who's acting like a toddler." The crowd laughed at this, clearly excited to see whatever humiliating punishment the hypnotist was going to force onto me as a result of my lack of compliance. I was still convinced that I wasn't hypnotized, but I found myself to my slight horror immediately lying down on the stage floor, my arms above my head and legs down flat, unable to find the strength or will to get up. The hypnotist began to circle him slowly, examining him from all angles and tapping a finger against her lips repeatedly, as if pondering what exactly she should do with her entranced victim. "I think firstly we need to get something to make sure you don't leave any puddles on this stage, perhaps some more fitting underwear for our little guy!" She stopped pacing, standing by his head and snapped her fingers, then holding out an open palm. A stage hand quickly scuttled over, placing a rather large, pink diaper in her palms. The diaper he handed her was covered with ruffles on the back end and with a pattern of frilly pink bows and daisy flowers, she leaned forward and placed it on my chest. "Now Terry, be a good little guy and change yourself into this diaper to show everyone in the audience just how much of a little baby you are!" Terry scoffed, and shaking his head replied loudly that, he would do no such thing. However, to his great dismay he found himself unbuckling his pants and sliding them down his legs, his underwear following shortly after. He lay there, naked in front of hundreds of people that stared at him intently, many of which now were giggling or outright laughing at his naked person laying on the stage, spotlights almost blinding him and totally helpless under the commands of the hypnotist. Unwrapping the large diaper, he raised his bottom and slid it under himself. With an expertise that surprised him immensely he found himself bringing the forward part of the diaper over his crotch and taping up the sides. Sliding several fingers to bring out the leak guards he finished off by adjusting the back of the diaper and sliding it up for a snugger fit. WHAT ON EARTH AM I DOING?! His mind screamed at him, as he experienced only a slight relief from now being not completely naked in front of the crowd. He spluttered, shaking head once more and only managing to get out a weak, "I-I'm... I'm not... I'm not hypnotized I'm just... I'm..." "What? You're what now? A little baby who just put himself into a big sissy diaper because he knows he's too little to be expected to stay dry? Is that what you're trying to say?" The hypnotist cooed at him in a mocking fashion, snapping her fingers once more and pointing upwards. Immediately Terry pushed himself to his feet, and a sense of fight or flight took over his mind. He had to get out of there, but he found his body wouldn't listen to him. A thought bubbled up in his mind, he couldn't leave because the hypnotist wasn't allowing him. She gave him no orders to do so. This thought frightened the boy, and he grappled with it, still refusing to accept that he was hypnotized. The hypnotist stood behind him now, her presence looming up, out of his shadow as she spoke up once more. "Now then my little baby, why don't you show us just how little of a thing you are and just how much you need those diapers you just taped around your waist! Be a good little baby and pee in your diapers for me!" "Fat chance! I'm not going to do any such- oh my... what the hell?!" I looked down and suddenly brought a hand against my now well diapered front, as the audience began to erupt into loud laughter. I had begun to quite obvious soak the front of my diapers, the front turning an obvious darker shade of pink spreading out from the front and causing the diaper to swell. Not only was he wetting it, he was positively flooding it and he didn't stop for almost a whole minute. The entire time he protested loudly, trying to press the diaper against himself to stop the flood but his efforts were completely in vain. He grimaced and shook his head, No... I'm still completely aware of everything that's happening! He was about to turn around and seriously start chewing out the hypnotist for drugging me? Tricking me? I still don't... Seemingly out of nowhere a stage hand scurried over to the hypnotist, handing her what looked to Terry like a pile of pink, frilly cloth. Had one been paying particularly close attention, it would have been apparent that underneath the stage hand's black attire was a suspiciously familiar looking bulge around his middle, almost as if he too were wearing a particular type of underpants. Unfolding the article of clothing the hypnotist revealed the garment to in fact be a short, pink frilly dress, she smirked and spoke aloud, "Now, this is certainly a better match for what you really are, don't you think little guy?" She strode over and threw the dress over him, much to his indignation and spluttering. Before he knew it, she had him well fitted into the dress, he tried pulling the skirt down past his diaper to hide his soggy front, but found that it was by far too short and exposed his wet condition to the crowd quite obviously. "What's the matter little girl, feeling a little shy about showing everyone just how much of a wet baby you are?" The crowd's jeers rose in response as I felt a distinct blush rising in my cheeks in response to her teasing. His thoughts were left unfinished as she snapped her fingers once more, and commanded him in a loud, clear voice, "On your knees little one! Crawl around and show us just how little and helpless you are!" The crowd continued its jubilant noise as Terry found himself kneeling down and then getting onto his hands and knees. He crawled back and forth on the stage and around the hypnotist, the spotlight following him, and his wobbling, padded posterior, the entire way as his cheeks flushed bright crimson. It didn't help either that he was now stammering, practically babbling out his words of protest. And even though the microphone he had been handed earlier was long forgotten, lying on the stage floor where he had diapered himself, the crowd was able to just pick up the panicked gibberish coming from his mouth. The hypnotist pointed to the space in front of her, and in spite of himself the fox obediently crawled into the area she indicated. Reaching into her pocket she retrieved her next prop, and Terry found himself having yet another piece of humiliating clothing being put on him. Pink baby mittens and booties were securely bound around the ends of his limbs, preventing any hope of using his hands to free himself from his current get up or properly walk on his two feet, for he found the booties cumbersome and difficult to stand on. Each step in the overly padded footwear required him to wait for the cushion to settle under his weight before he was stable enough to take the next step. Standing him up again she once more in her authoritative voice, intoned,"Until I command otherwise, you shall find yourself struggling greatly to walk upright! After all, little ones just aren't old enough to know how to walk." Terry's knees wobbled, and with a yelp he found himself falling down onto his hands and knees. He tried to get up, but only found himself floundering further and unable to fully right himself, flailing his limbs as he groaned and grunted with effort, landing on his soggy bottom several times much to the great amuse of the crowd watching him. "S-stop that! I c-command you to stop doing this to me!" The hypnotist cocked an eyebrow, and leaned forward with her hand on her knees to peer down at the fox, a fierce glint in her eye. "What's that baby? You're trying to talk back to me? Command me? Oh the mere notion is absolutely hilarious! Now now, until I allow you to, you shall now only speak to me, and others, using babble! Like only the littlest of pathetic infants do!" Terry opened his mouth, now thoroughly peeved at his helpless nature, but he found that his tongue felt heavy and awkward in his mouth. It was almost as if he were trying to talk with a stranger's tongue instead of his own! "Bwahhhh ahhhh, nyeh... Nyah bwuw! Bwu wah g-gaah!" was all that the now thoroughly humiliated boy was able to blurt out, he reflexively moved his front hands to cover up his mouth, but being on all fours and doing so caused him to fall clumsily on his face, his well padded rear now raised up and facing the audience. The crowd was beginning to lose it, and jeers of hilarity reached his ears. "What a complete baby!" "My toddler has a better sense of balance!" "He's totally helpless!" "Oh my goodness, I'd be mortified!" "I bet he'll never hear the end of this!" "I wouldn't want to go back to work again on Monday if I were him..." "He just totally wet himself! In front of a crowd of people!" "I wonder if he really is just a baby in an adult's body..." Terry's cheeks flushed bright fire truck red, and he attempted to cover him his face to hide it, continuing to babble helplessly as he tried his best to form coherent words but only making more infantile noises. An almost vindictive look came across the hypnotist's contenance as she noticed his discomfort. Once more she reached within her pocket and retrieved a large, oversized pacifier. The hypnotist strode forward, and pushed the pacifier inside the mouth of the boy, who made a futile attempt to resist by trying to move his head away. He found, however, as her eyes fixated on his own, he couldn't look away no matter how hard he tried. As if placing a cherry atop a cake, she reached one last time into her pocket and pulled out a pink strap with a clip on the end. Leaning forwards she clipped it to the front of his dress while tying the string around the ring of the pacifier lodged in his mouth. The crowd, upon realizing what she had done, redoubled their orchestra of hysterics. Why can't I look away? Is this part of the hypnotism? Am I even hypnotized though? Why can't I shake myself from this?! Is it... am I enjoying this? I don't... I can't tell.. I don't think I've been this conflicted before... Ashley spoke, her tone now turning a little bit more sinister with a twist of almost gleeful sarcasm, "My my, it's been quite a while since our little stage baby has used his diapers! Does our little one have to go potty? Raising himself up again on all fours once more, he looked up at the hypnotist defiantly, and mustering all the conviction he could gather, he said slowly but deliberately through his pacified lips, "No!" The kangaroo cocked and eyebrow, and leaned in closer to the fox's face. "What was that, baby? I don't think Momma Alastair heard you quite right?" The boy frowned up at her in response, but his eye betrayed his true emotions. Still, gathering his mental fortitude, he managed to push himself up onto his two legs again, and wobbled a few steps forward, eliciting more amused responses from the crowd and even one from the hypnotist herself as she laughed openly. Now standing, he responded again, softer this time, "No..." "Haha! Look at you toddling around like a little 2 year old! Trying to show mommy that we're all big and grown up?" The boy grimaced to himself, as his arms flailed behind and in front of him while he struggled to maintain his balance, the accursed booties not helping matters at all, and taking several adjustment steps in order to keep his fragile upright position. Ashley raised her arm up, pointing at him directly, as the crowd died down upon noticing her dramatic pose. In a stern voice, she pronounced, "You're no big boy my dear boy, you're just a little helpless baby who can't help but use his diapers for their intended purpose. I command you to make stinkies in your diaper!" Suddenly the grey fox felt something pull sharply at the bottom of his stomach, and soon felt as if he were being attacked with cramps. He clutched at his stomach, his concentration on his balance now shattered as he felt the pressure building on his behind. Letting loose a loud, almost painful sounding grunt he felt his body begin to push his mess out of his behind and into the seat of his diapers, causing a visible lump to form and sag. A small cry came from his throat as he fell onto his padded posterior with a loud squishing noise, which broke the silence of the crowd as the guffaws and jeers once again rose up. The sagging lump squished and soon, was spread evenly against his behind. Several loud farts and squelches erupted from his now almost pulsing behind as he pushed the entire contents of his colon into his diaper, feeling the front of the diaper growing warm again as well, as he wet himself too Terry felt his shoulders slump as he found his protests no longer carried with them a tone of indignation, but now sounded more pathetic and pleading, "B-bwut hypwosis nevew wowks on me! How ish thish happening?! Awe of this... you'we just fowcing me into it! I-I'm nawt obeying youw hypwotic commands for wea-" But he was forced to cut himself off as he found himself putting his paws in front of him and hunching over, panting as the last of the mess was excreted. His backside was now coated in a larger amount of mess than he'd ever imagined he was capable of making, and he'd just done all that in front of more than a hundred people! Practically gloating with power, Ashley started to slowly walk around the defeated looking boy, she leaned over, Terry could feel her breath tickling the inside of his ears as she whispered delicately to him, her voice filling his mind with her power as the words slipped past her lips like drops of honey from a honey bear being squeezed, "You can try and fight me all you like, little boy, but you're nothing compared to my hypnotic techniques. Squirm is all you've done, and all you can ever hope to do. You might as well face that you're utterly powerless and completely under my control!" Straightening up quickly, she advanced towards the edge of the stage, facing the audience with raised up and outstretched arms, "I see my audience is enjoying the spectacle! But can we not go further?" She stepped to the side, revealing the humiliated boy who was once again attempting to get back up to his feet in a pathetic bid to escape his now stinkier situation. "Not only have you demonstrated that you should have always been clad in some pretty thick diapers, but, honestly, given just how well this hypnosis has worked on you, I think you must be enjoying this, right?" Terry tried shaking his head to indicate that he very much was not enjoying what was happening to him, but found himself unable to move. Was there a command in that sentence that forces me to not respond what I think? What's happening? Why can't I tell her no?! Chuckling, she continued, "Better be careful now, little one. If you show you like this too much, you might just always be turned on by being a messy little diaper boy for the rest of your life!" Her grin still plastered across her face, she turned to look over shoulder at the crowd, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What do you think ladies and gentle men? Shall we make it so that the most arousing thing this poor boy can experience is having everyone see just how much of a messy little baby he is?" The hypnotist was rewarded with a roar of affirmation, the crowd now more excited than they had been before. She laughed, looking back down again at the poor boy with vindictive glee painted across her face as she studied the pathetic mess before her. Raising her arm once more and pointing at the boy, she declared, "Until I say otherwise you, Terry, shall find nothing more sexually pleasing than the public knowledge of just how much of a pathetic, messy, subordinate little baby you are!" Terry felt something press down on his soaked diaper front, and he looked down in fear. He was beginning to grope his padded front with increasing intensity. Oh no... he thought to himself, more calmly than he expected to think, What if I won't be able to stop myself... His initial calm realization, quickly turned to a panicked crushing feeling as he adjusted himself to face the audience, legs spread wide. He began to hump the stage, sliding his messy posterior up and down the stage floor and further spreading his large mess even to the front of his diapers, pressing up against his jewels and giving him the full experience of his messy diaper. After pausing for dramatic effect, during which Terry's heart sank down to his toes, she continued, "And if you work your way up to cumming from that sexual fantasy being truth, then I will leave you just like you are. I won't undo any of my ongoing commands. You'll be stuck this way, forever!" Soon enough the poor fox was rock hard and panting, pawing pathetically against the front of his padding as he closed his eyes with the intensity of his diapered public masturbation. The sounds of the crowd filled his mind and even while his eyes were closed he saw all those people staring at him and laughing, the images of the crowd were seared into his mind, clear as day seeing him as he knew they could tell he was totally and utterly helpless under the will of the hypnotist. Unbeknownst to him, Ashley was counting down in her mind. Counting down slowly as she observed her latest victim succumb to her will. Terry struggled hard, but soon found that even the stubbornness in his mind that was disagreeing with the actions of the hypnotist were dissolving into nothing. His resistance ebbed the closer he got to cumming. For a second he stopped, struggling to resist. He could feel his control over his mind and body ebbing away from his grasp. He was getting confused signals, I do want this to happen... don't do? Wait... No I don't! But... why don't I? It feels good and I'm supposed to do this... But wait no I'm... What am I again? As his confused took over he resumed once more, passionately rubbing the front of his diaper. He grimaced and managed to practically babble out, "Bwuh-p-please! J-jusht... undew youw com... com.... commands n-now! B-befowe... it's tew... wate..." "Tew? Too late for what? None of what I commanded you to do is making you masturbate into your baby diapers. You're doing that of your own accord you little thing!" The crowd, upon receiving this bit of information, were particularly tickled by this and their laughter rose up an extra few levels of volume. "Don't you have any sense of self control? Just because you find something particularly arousing doesn't mean you have to act on all of your feelings! But I guess little helpless babies have a hard time with their urges, don't they, baby?" Terry felt something break, and he gave up denying the truth. Ashley definitely hypnotized him, he admitted to himself as he felt the last dregs of fight in him dissolve. "A-alwight... I-I'm hypnowotized... Kah woo undow... eet now?" The sarcasm dripped from her lips her tone suddenly switched to a cooing one, as if she were talking to an actual infant, "It was never about you admitting you were under my power, that was obvious to everyone since you first set foot on the stage!" The crowd cheered and started to applaud, enthusiastically impressed by her performance. As the crowd settled once more, she continued, "No no, little one. I don't have to do anything. It's what you have to do. All you have to do is not cum in your baby diapers and I'll happily undo my commands, like I said I would. But I don't think you're going to be able to handle that, hmm baby? Terry felt crestfallen, as his self control suddenly was nowhere to be found. He felt a sense of doom upon him as he resumed to rubbing himself through his well used diaper. The imposing hypnotist leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry now you little thing, just sit yourself back and think of just how much you're enjoying this. That's the most important thing to you right now, how much you want to enjoy this. Go on, let yourself give into the pleasure." Thoughts of pleasure and sexual fervor began to bombard his mind. It feels so good to be in diapers... Little sissy babies like you ALWAYS enjoy being in diapers... Everyone knows just how big of a sissy and a baby you are... They know that you love making stickies in your little pink crinklepants... Nothing is hotter than being exposed like the big, helpless, and subordinate sissy infant you are! His cock throbbed as he rubbed harder and harder, now fully unable to control himself. His thoughts drifted away from his consciousness like clouds blown away by strong winds, and he felt himself give way to the subconscious hypnotic programming that he'd be subjected to by the hypnotist. Everyone... knows that... I'm a subordinate... helpless... messy... diaper baby... Oh gods! Letting out a loud gasp, Terry felt a shudder run through his entire body like an electric current as he came into the front of his thoroughly messed diapers. With each pulse of his member releasing the hot semen into the front of his soaked diapers the boy whimpered and whined, hips bucking madly against the stage floor. The orgasm seemed to take over his entire reality as his tongue lolled out of his mouth, cheeks flushed and sweating profusely, the boy's head suddenly felt incredibly heavy. He slumped forward, practically wheezing from the effort he had put forth into showing just how much he enjoyed being in his messy, wet diapers. He could barely hear the cheering of the crowd as Ashley turned and bowed several times to acknowledge their adoration. The rest of the performance was a blur in the boy's mind. He vaguely remembered himself being dressed in various humiliating, infantile and sissy outfits by the stage hands, as well as the flash of cameras taking photos of him for, as Ashley put it, "his baby picture scrapbook." Epilogue The following weeks seemed to be as unpleasant as the night he went to see the hypnotist's performance. He had had to shamefully toddle back to the theatre when he realized that he wasn't able to get into his car because his pants which contained his keys had been left behind in the theatre. Not to mention his mitten-bound hands and the intense concentration it took to speak anything more than unintelligible baby babble that prevented him from communicating. The security guard at the front entrance had a seriously difficult time taking him seriously and gave him quite the hassle. After what felt like hours, a stage hand was summoned and helped the poor boy out of his infantile restraints, but had not taken into account the fact that the boy was still missing his pants. He had to run off back to his duties, but had informed him that if he wanted to get them he'd probably have to go back up on the stage and ask for them. Which was why the boy had had to return, yet again, to the stage, wearing nothing but the soft pink booties, the short and frilly pink dress, which still did nothing to hide his smelly and sagging diaper, to ask the hypnotist for his pants back. She had agreed, but only if he phrased the question like an infant would. It took him quite a few attempts he was able to barely manage an intelligible, "pwease may I have muh big boy pants, pwetty pwease?" as his words still were dissolving into babble. Carelessly she had motioned for an assistant to give them to him, and he had toddled haltingly out of the theatre again clutching his prize. After having to sit in his mess during the nerve racking drive home, he had quickly thrown away all the baby crap including the diaper, and showered. He got into his bed shaking slightly, clutching at his covers. He felt as if his life had been turned upside down. Never before had such an experience both shaken up him so severely and turned him on as much as that night. Despite himself he found he was revisiting that night's occurrences every time he felt horny, the feelings of humiliation, embarrassment, and subordination giving him a thrill like no other. The word had spread around his work place quite quickly, and after his boss had found out about the event (through an overwhelming amount of pictures and several videos) had expressed to Terry that he no longer felt that it was appropriate that he was associated with the company. Jobless, the boyclived on savings for several weeks before his frustration got the better of him. He had begun to do some research on his newly found fetishes, and found to his surprise the a website offering work involving humiliation, infantilism, and hypnotization. Before he knew it, he had connected with an associate, and upon expressing his recent griefs found himself before offered a paid position as a "camera baby." Desperate and subconsciously yearning for more experiences like the embarrassing evening he had suffered through, he readily agreed. A little more than one year later... The door clicked open as Ashley let herself into the humble living space of the boy she had hypnotized not so long ago. She smirked to herself as she strode purposefully through the household, nodding shortly at the rather confused looking cleaning lady who was vacuuming the living room at the time. After the thoroughly humiliated boy had left her theatre the hypnotist had kept tabs on him just like she did with all those who fell head over heels for her hypnotic tricks. True, it didn't always work in the long term like it did with Terry, but sometimes everything lined up just right. She smirked to herself as she thought about how malleable he truly was, of course he wasn't too aware of that. Her hypnotic tricks worked so well that she was even able to let herself slip into his life to observe pretty closely without him noticing all this time later. She could hear muffled moans and whimpers coming from behind one of the doors on the second floor of the house, and the hypnotist climbed up the stairs swiftly taking two at a time with her long strides. She strode purposefully through the second level. She gently cracked open the door behind which her sensitive ears had picked up the noise. She stepped into a bedroom which looked rather ordinary, except for the obvious incontinence supplies strewn here and there. It was pretty apparent somebody relied heavily on diapers occupied the bedroom, as a diaper pail stood next to a changing pad laid out in the corner, and several large stacks of unopened cases of diapers were in another part of the room. Alastair walked over to the bed and, confirming her suspicions, ran a hand over the bed feeling and hearing the plastic sheets underneath him, just like a small child with a leaky night time bladder would have on their own mattress. Glancing up she noticed a calendar with various stickers depicting rain clouds on most of the dates. A potty training chart huh? How cute! She reached over and took it off of the wall, flipping back from December to January of that year. The marks started in February, and didn't display any accidents until the end of the month, then they appeared once a week, and then several times a week as she progressed through the calendar getting more and more numerous until two stickers were being placed every few days. Looks like somebody lost control during the day too... My my somebody really has become diaper dependent! The show was in September though... My goodness he would have had to start wearing 24/7 only a month after the show to start having accidents by February!! Wow, how pathetic... Returning the calendar to where she found it, she looked over at a doorway on the opposite side of the room to the one she had entered. The noises were coming from behind it, much less muffled now that only one door separated her from their source. She went over and gently opened the door, peering inside. There sat Terry, dressed in a ridiculously girlish outfit sporting pink ruffles and a dress skirt that was nowhere near long enough to hide the obviously thoroughly soiled pink diapers clung around his waist. The boy was seated near the back of a crib, arms bound snugly to the raised upper back railing. A giant novelty bottle, easily gallon sized had been strung up on a hook above the crib, with a tube attached to it going through to a pacifier gag strapped firmly around his head, leaving him little choice but to drink the bottle's contents. His legs too were well restrained up towards his arms, fully displaying his diaper which had a vibrator wand taped to the front of it, buzzing away much to Terry's obvious pleasure. There were several cameras positioned around the room, and a computer monitor and tower set up in a corner presumably streaming the footage that the cameras were capturing. The boy's eyes were glazed as he stared at nothing in particular, his paws pulled at the restraints, while he suckled at the milk coming through his pacifier gag. Occasionally, a small amount of the liquid dripped down and was being caught by a bib that was strapped around his neck, displaying the words, "Messy Sissy Baby!" Ashley gazed around the room, further taking in the scene before her. Various large stuffed animals were strewn around the room, all looking appropriate for a little girl. A large pink unicorn, giant purple teddy bear, and several other similarly colored animals all were scattered around the room. A pink shag carpet, rocking chair, white wardrobe, and large changing table with various other restraints similar to the ones in the crib also occupied the room. Another, larger, week to week, potty chart was also hung up on the wall, this time displaying not rain clouds but large diaper cub magnets with obvious well soaked diapers, most even looking shy about having done more than just wet in their baby pants, having also messed them quite thoroughly. The chart, of course, was also in perfect view of the camera's line of sight. Ashley closed the door behind her, leaning against it and simply observing the boy for a few moments. With a sly smile she spoke up, softly commanding, "Now now, be a good little sissy baby and wet your diapers for me like a good girl!" At first, nothing happened. The Hypnotist frowned, and repeated the statement once again, only to no avail once more. Suddenly an obnoxiously wet fart filled the room, and with a soft, almost desperate sounding grunt the boy messed himself in front of her, the seat of his diapers beneath the vibrating wand bulging out distinctly as he helplessly fudged his pampers. Her eyes widened as she realized that it wasn't that her hypnotic tricks no longer had any affect on him, it was the fact that he couldn't obey. Terry no longer had control over his bowels or bladder anymore. He'd become utterly dependent on his diapers. Nevermind that then, I think that this one might still work. Clearing her throat she intoned once more, "Alright sissy, show everyone just how much you love being in your well used diapers!" He moaned louder than before and his eyes closed, after a few moments of heavier breathing his legs bucked but were still held firmly and securely by his restraints. He whimpered as he made an obvious show of finishing into his diapers, letting out a sigh of relief as his climax ended You really let yourself get wrapped up in this stuff huh? Had you actually tried to resist my hypnotically induced commands you would have been able to break free in a week or two. But here we are a little more than year later, and they still work like a charm. She shook her head, still smiling as she leaned over to picking up a baby rattle and reaching over to shake it in front of his face, causing his distant eyes to fixate on it vaguely, a gurgling noise coming from his pacifier gag as he seemed to attempt to react to it. That only caused more milk to splotch down on his bib, and Ashley had to place a hand in front of her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud. Opening the door she softly exited the nursery, quietly closing it behind her. Before leaving, after a moment's slight hesitation, left her business card clipped to the potty chart calendar. If anything, I'm sure once he sees it he'll get a good squirm. With a feeling of satisfaction at a job well done, she exited the premises, leaving behind a boy whose life she had forever altered to now consist of sissified infantile humiliation, a lack of potty training, an internet fetish presence that served as his primary source of income, and more diapers than he could have possibly imagined before.

This story takes place a couple of months after Keeping Secrets. It's hard for me to tell, but I don't think it's necessary to read the previous story to enjoy this one, but if you want to read about how Tracy and Kat met, that's where to go. And as always, I will be updating the tags as the different parts are posted to avoid spoilers. -------------- Mission Improbable (Part 1 of 13) "Shit!" Tracy looked out of the window of her van. Big, fat raindrops splattered against the windscreen. "What's the matter Häschen?" Kat's voice on the other end of the phone line asked. "Rain. "That's going to make flying harder." A single one of those big drops could upset the balance of Tracy's little drone. It would also make audio surveillance next to impossible. Lightning flashed somewhere behind the car, illuminating the trees in front of the car briefly. The thunder that followed only moments later drowned out whatever Kat said. "What was that?" Tracy put Kat on speaker while she climbed around the seats to the back of the van. "I said 'just be careful'. I wouldn't want to take care of a zapped, little bunny. You're fussy enough when you're just wet." Tracy felt a blush creep up her neck. "Kat," Tracy pleaded, the whining tone painfully clear even to herself. God, I sound like a four-year-old. "Oh come on," Kat said. "It's not like there's anyone else in your car with you." "How do you know?" "Well, is there?" "No," Tracy admitted. She was struggling to find the neck hole inside her dark grey rain poncho. The stiff plastic of the poncho crackled slightly with static electricity as she pulled it down. The mesh of hair-thin metal wires inside the plastic would hide and distort Tracy's heat signature, making her much harder to see with infra-red cameras. She wasn't expecting anybody to be using that, but if she had to be somewhere in person, she was not going to take any chances. Tracy picked the phone up from the suitcase holding most of her surveillance gear. "Anyway, are you doing anything tonight?" Tracy didn't actually hold her breath; at least not physically. She always felt awkward asking if Kat was free. Asking a dominatrix if she's working felt to Tracy like asking 'are you fucking someone'. It wasn't like she was jealous when Kat was seeing clients. Well, maybe a little. She knew what she was getting into when she and Kat started... dating? No, that wasn't the word she'd use. Maybe 'seeing each other'? No, that didn't seem right either. They weren't two high-schoolers making out between classes. 'Sleeping together' didn't feel right either, although it was true in the most literal sense. Tracy was so lost in her search for the right term that she missed Kat's answer. She shook her head to dismiss the thoughts. "What was that? You dropped out there for a second," Tracy bluffed. "I said I have a client all night. Sorry." Tracy sighed. "Okay." She had hoped that she could snuggle up to Kat after having had to be out in the rain. Even if it was only for a few hours. Sleeping like that was so much more restful than sleeping alone. "Aww. Were you hoping for some snuggles after you were done?" Tracy suddenly realised something. "All night, you said? Are they there now?" "Relax Häschen. It's not like they can hear you." "Still, you know I hate it when we talk like this when you have other people there." "You didn't seem to mind last week when Jessie and Uncle Dieter had us over for dinner." Tracy sighed again, almost rolling her eyes at Kat. "That's different and you know it. They think we're... you know, dating." Tracy cringed at the word. It wasn't like they hadn't gone on dates. But there was a big difference between 'going on dates' and 'dating'. At least in Tracy's mind. "We can have breakfast," Kat suggested. "Or maybe lunch. I don't know how late it'll be before I get some sleep." "Mmm-yeah. Breakfast sounds nice. Surprise me." Tracy knew that Kat could hear her smile. "Do you want me to wear my..." Tracy hesitated, "you know..." Kat laughed. "You can say 'diaper' Häschen. It iss not a naughty verd." She said the last sentence with an exaggerated German accent that made Tracy smile. "I know. It just feels weird to say it." "You know, it's funny. You have more trouble saying the word than you have actually wearing them." "Yeah, yeah. It's hilarious," Tracy said dismissively. "Scheiße, I have to go," Kat said as there was some noise in the background that Tracy couldn't identify. "Tomorrow, wear your diapers if you want to. Or not. We'll figure something out. Bye." "Uh, bye," Tracy said, but Kat had already hung up. "...I guess." She put away the phone and opened the car door, looking out into the downpour. Even before stepping outside, she imagined she could feel a greasy trickle down the back of her neck. Tracy grabbed her camera and checked the batteries. Almost fully charged. Before she slipped the strap over her head, Tracy made sure the waterproof casing was properly closed. Wouldn't want foggy lenses that I can't reach. Tracy stepped out of the van and found herself ankle-deep in a puddle that hadn't been there when she parked. "Damn." Tracy stepped out of the puddle and shook her feet to get some of the water out of her shoes. "Not exactly the greatest start," she said to no-one in particular. Grabbing a black, plastic briefcase and a small tripod, Tracy closed the door and locked it. The alarm activated with a quiet chirp. Then she trudged off into the bushes. Half an hour later, Tracy was in place. She was crouching in a bush halfway up a small hill. Below her was a footpath with a metal bench and a trash can with a couple of impressive dents. Tracy absent-mindedly wondered what could have made the dents. They looked too big to be from bikes, but the footpath was too narrow and twisting for cars. ATVs maybe? Tracy checked her watch: A quarter to one. In fifteen minutes, that trash can was going to be one of the richest trash cans in the city. Tracy shifted her weight, moving her knee out of the small brook that had appeared only minutes after she had settled down in her bush. Her mind drifted back to earlier that day. *** Tracy had been in her office, working on the final report to a client when there was a quiet knock on the door. Tracy checked the camera outside the door. Kat had insisted she install the camera and reinforce the office door after a case had gone badly, in a death-threat kind of way a couple of months earlier. Outside the door was a woman and man. They didn't look like a threat, so Tracy pressed the button to unlock the door. The lock buzzed and clicked and after a few moments, the couple entered. Tracy pushed her keyboard aside and motioned to the chairs in front of the desk. "Please, have a seat." Tracy found her trusty notepad and pencil. Then she pushed the phone to the middle of the desk. "You don't mind if I record this..." Tracy paused and studied the couple for a few moments. The man was sitting with his eyes lowered, turned slightly towards the woman, who in turn was sitting back in the chair with her legs crossed, looking relaxed and confident. Tracy figured that she was the one in charge. "... Ms? "Wilford," the woman said. "Nalah Wilford. And I'd rather you didn't. I don't want any of this coming out." "It's only to help my note-taking, but if you're uncomfortable with it..." Tracy picked up her phone and put it away. "OK Ms. Wilford, what's the problem?" Tracy tried to sound professional. "Marc here fucked up," She answered matter-of-factly. Tracy looked from one to the other and back and again. "I'm going to need a little more details than that." Ms. Wilford looked coolly at Marc. "Well? Tell her what you did." "There was this email, and I thought it was from Miss Nalah and I clicked on the link in it and-" "And the idiot opened a back-door into the system. Look, I couldn't care less that they hijacked his webcam and caught him undressing and getting into position for me under the desk in my office." "I-" Tracy began, a little taken aback. "I do, however, care that they caught me on camera as well. And as if that wasn't enough, they encrypted the entire system, locking us out." "And let me guess, they want money to unlock the system and not release the video." "Yeah, fifteen thousand." Ms. Wilford said it like it was more an annoyance than a serious sum of money. "Not to point out the obvious, but isn't this a police matter? Or at the very least, your IT department? Why hire someone like me?" "If we use yesterday's backups we lose all the logs from a crucial deposition, plus we'd look incompetent." Ms. Wilford glared at Marc. "And going to the police wouldn't get the files back in time for the trial either. I figured the simplest solution is to just pay them." "Okay? But then why hire me?" "Don't get me wrong, I'm not OK with what happened. I want you to find out who did this so I can make them regret it. And as for why you specifically? You came highly recommended from a business associate of mine. A Mrs Devereux?" "I see," Tracy said, trying to sound neutral since she didn't know how much Ms. Wilford knew about the case in question. "So, fifteen thousand. I'm assuming they didn't want to meet in some back alley with a suitcase full of cash." "Unfortunately not. They wanted the money in some stupid cryptocurrency, Ding-Dough, on a thumb drive, and they wanted Marc to drop it off at a specific location at 1 am. tonight." "So, in..." Tracy checked her watch, "...eleven hours or so. I'm assuming they gave the whole 'don't contact the police' warning or something like that. Will getting the money be a problem?" Ms. Wilford shook her head. Tracy put down her pencil. "Well, since they've been smart about the money, our best bet is probably to follow the actual thumb drive once your husband makes the drop and hopefully identify the blackmailers that way." "Oh please! Like I'd marry him." Ms. Wilford rolled her eyes. "I deal with enough fucked-up marriages at work. Marc's my personal assistant." And your executive stress relief toy, it sounds like. Tracy opened her desk drawer and rooted around in it for a couple of seconds before bringing out a bright yellow thumb drive. "Use this for the money," she said and handed it to Ms. Wilford. "Now, this is a rush job so I'm going to have to charge extra." "I expected as much. Camille told me the rates you charged her; I'll double it." That was more than Tracy had been planning on charging, so she simply nodded. "I also have a couple more conditions. First of all: My job is to follow the thumb drive, or the information on it, to the blackmailers without them realising it. That is, until they've given you the password to unlock your system. So until that happens, you're going to follow the blackmailer's instructions to the letter. Agreed? "Sounds reasonable." "Also, whatever you're planning for whoever did this, I'm not involved. Once I've identified the blackmailers, my job is over." "I wouldn't have it any other way." Ms. Wilford's smile sent a chill down Tracy's spine. It was like a cat watching a canary with a broken wing. Tracy decided she didn't want to get on Ms. Wilford's bad side. They spent the next twenty minutes getting all the details Tracy felt she needed. After Ms. Wilford and Marc had left, Tracy started planning. She would park a drone by the drop and follow whoever came to pick it up. Tracy opened the box of drones and checked the battery levels of the one with the best range. It only had a basic camera and microphone, but it was small enough to escape notice. After checking the map of the park where the drop-off was, she found that the drone should be able to follow the thumb drive to any of the parking lots in the immediate area. After that, it was just a matter of recording the licence plate and the traffic cameras would do the rest of the job for her. The thumb drive even had a tracker that she could activate remotely in case she lost track of it. If whoever picked it up scanned the drive for bugs, they wouldn't find it until it was too late. Tracy had to admit that she had a similar tracker on her car keys and that she had had to use it more than once. Content that all the technical preparations were done, Tracy went to bed. If she was going to pull an all-nighter, she should start out well rested. *** Movement on the path below brought Tracy back to the present. Somebody halfway hidden by a big, green and white golf umbrella, approached the bench. It was Marc. He looked around nervously. "Come on," Tracy mouthed silently. "Don't get creative. Just make the delivery and walk away." Marc fumbled in his pocket and brought out Tracy's yellow thumb drive. Tracy zoomed in on Marc with her camera as he kept fiddling with the thumb drive. He was turned halfway away from her so she couldn't see exactly what he was doing. "Come on," Tracy kept whispering inaudibly. "Be a good, little executive fuck toy and do what you're supposed to." As though he had heard her, Marc turned and looked in Tracy's direction. She froze, trusting her poncho, the darkness and the distance to hide her. That, and the fact that she had told Marc and Ms. Wilford she would be using her drones to track the drive. Eventually Marc looked away. Tracy slowly brought her hand back to her camera and zoomed out a little, letting it catch the area surrounding the bench. Eventually Marc stopped looking around. He looked down to his hand where the thumb drive was before tossing it into the trash can. Then he hurried off down the path where he had come from. Then there was just the almost sizzling, white noise of the rain pouring down. Tracy imagined she could hear a plink, plink whenever the faint, yellow street light flickered, but other than that, nothing happened. Suddenly, there was a flash and an almost immediate, deafening crash of thunder as the lightning struck somewhere nearby. Tracy thought she could see something in the bushes by the footpath. She switched the camera to thermographic, turning everything dark grey and black; everything except the bright heat bloom of somebody hiding in one of the bushes. "Now what do we have here?" She zoomed in, trying to get a good picture. Unfortunately, thermographics was never made for identification purposes, so the face remained an unrecognisable white blur. Tracy was so focused on the person in the bushes that she almost missed the movement by the trash can. Tracy turned the camera back and switched off the thermographics when she saw no heat signatures. Something reminiscent of a bug the size of a small plate was scuttling out of the trash, holding Tracy's thumb drive in its pincers. It fell from the opening, but instead of hitting the ground, it rose with the unmistakable whine of high-speed rotors. Shit, they're using a drone for the pickup. Tracy fumbled in her pocket for the remote control for the tracker. She pressed the button and the little light on the remote switched from red to a blinking yellow. "What the..." Tracy pressed the button again, but the light stubbornly refused to change to green. "Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit." Tracy reached for the briefcase on the ground next to her. She opened it and lifted the largest of her camera drones out from its foam housing. Unlike its smaller cousins, this one was capable of operating without Tracy having to steer it manually. In one fluid motion, Tracy switched it on and threw it up in the air. The rotors started up almost immediately and it rose up with a buzzing sound like the world's biggest wasp. Tracy had programmed it to follow the signal from the thumb drive, and failing that, it would try to track movement below. The amount of rain, however, made the latter option a long shot. She pressed the button on the remote one more time, but the light still didn't turn green. "So much for plan B," Tracy grumbled. She rose, leaving the briefcase and tripod with the camera, and ran down the hill towards the person hiding in the bushes. Whoever they were, they were her last chance of finding out what was going on. Tracy half ran, half slid down the hill, branches and twigs scratching noisily against her poncho. The figure in the bushes looked in her direction, obviously having heard her. There was a flash and a sharp crack of thunder. No, not thunder. A gunshot. The fucker's shooting at me? Tracy wanted to turn around, or hide behind something, anything. But her legs, apparently having made a deal with her momentum, just kept going. There was another shot, the bullet hitting the trash can with a metallic clunk. The figure turned and tried to run, but slipped on the mud and fell. The gun landed in a puddle, out of reach of both of them. Tracy dove forward, landing with her elbow in the man's stomach in a move that would have made a pro wrestler proud. The man folded up, coughing and moaning. Tracy picked herself up and was about to give him a kick when she recognised him. "Marc?!?" Marc was too busy gasping for breath to answer. "What the hell are you doing here?" "Help-helping Mistress Nalah," he wheezed. Tracy had a sinking feeling. "What did you do?" Marc rolled over on his side and tried to sit up. "Tracking bug," he coughed, "on... on the drive." "Gimme." "Wha...?" Marc asked with a bewildered look. "The bug tracker. Now!" Tracy demanded, trying to sound extra bossy in the hopes it would speed things up. Marc fumbled in his pockets and held out a small, cracked, plastic rectangle. Tracy grabbed it, noting the silver company logo above the small screen. TeraTech Electronics: Fantastic range, but shitty transmitter shielding. That could explain my tracking problems. Tracy left Marc in the mud and ran back towards her equipment. "Call 'client one'," Tracy told her phone as she struggled up the slippery slope. Ms. Wilford answered almost immediately. "Yes?" "Bullit here. Is the money still there?" "Yes, it's still all here," Ms. Wilford started. "No, wait. They just moved it." "Password?" Tracy suppressed a curse as she slipped and almost fell. "Not yet. Do you have them?" "No. Still working on it," Tracy said between gasps of breath as she reached the briefcase and knelt down next to it. "There was a complication. I'll call you back." Tracy hung up and pulled out her pocket knife. She used the screwdriver to pry open the casing of Marc's tracker, cutting a small gash in her hand when it slipped. Ignoring the stinging, Tracy examined the circuitry inside, quickly finding the receiver and reading its frequency from the little sticker on it. She dropped the tracker and grabbed the drone remote. The screen showed a map of the park and the drone's search pattern. Tracy input the new tracking frequency and the drone immediately picked it up, abandoning its previous pattern and homing in on its new signal. Tracy's phone rang. "What do you mean 'There was a complication'?" Ms. Wilford asked sharply when Tracy picked up. "I thought we agreed that you were to follow the drop-off instructions, or did I misunderstand something?" Tracy glanced back down to where she had left Marc, but he was gone. "Yeah, that's the deal." "So what's the deal with Marc sabotaging my plans by putting a cheap and obvious bug on my thumb drive?" "He did WHAT?!? Where is that little fucker? Is he still there? Marc! If you can hear this, don't bother coming to work tomorrow!" There was a beep from Tracy's remote control indicating that the drone was approaching its target. Tracy switched from the map to the camera view and the small screen showed a parking lot. There were maybe a dozen cars; no lights or movement. "Look, I still have a couple of tricks up my sleeve. With a little luck, whoever they are didn't notice Marc's bug, or if they did, they're going to be greedy and ask for more since you tried to track the drive. Either way, we still have a shot at finding them. it's just going to be a little trickier and take a little longer." "Just. Find. Them." Ms. Wilford hung up. Tracy left the drone in a holding pattern above the lot and picked up her equipment. Marc had already scurried off to wherever he stayed when he wasn't under Ms. Wilford's desk, leaving the gun in the puddle where he had dropped it. Tracy picked it up before heading for the car. She didn't like guns, but leaving it for someone else to find wasn't an option. Too many irresponsible idiots running around; and not just Marc. By the time Tracy reached the car, she was panting and sweating, cursing the poncho for trapping so much of her body heat. She put the camera and the drone remote on the passenger seat. Then she pulled off the poncho and threw it in the back along with the empty briefcase. For a little while, she just stood there, letting the rain cool her down. Then, before she got too wet, she got in and started the engine. The drive to the parking lot didn't take long; maybe ten or fifteen minutes. Tracy's attention was divided between the road, which was wet and slippery, but thankfully empty, and the screen showing her drone's bird's eye view of the parking lot. Only one car had left the lot since she started driving, and she had a good picture of the car and its licence plates. Hopefully the cameras in the area would help her get a picture of the driver. The thumb drive still hadn't moved, but Tracy hadn't had time to check if the car, or its driver, had been anywhere near it. Tracy picked up her camera and used it to quickly scan the lot. No heat sources; human or engines. As the drone slowly descended, Tracy saw the thumb drive in a puddle. She got out and carefully picked it up. To Marc's credit, the tracker dot that he'd put on on the drive at least matched its colour, but it was still obvious if you knew what to look for. And Tracy had no reason to think the blackmailers didn't. They had been smart about avoiding identification; cryptocurrency payment, drone pickup and quick transfer of the money. So Tracy doubted there would be fingerprints on the drive, but maybe she was lucky and they had screwed up. She put it in a paper bag and put the paper bag in a plastic box of rice she kept in the car precisely to dry out wet electronics. Even if there weren't physical fingerprints, there would be electronic ones. Tracy picked up the drone and put it in the back of her van before climbing in herself. She started the computer and began scanning for available wifi networks. Again, Tracy doubted that the blackmailers would have used an open network when they transferred the money, but at the moment, long shots was pretty much all she had. Thanks a lot, Marc. At least there weren't too many networks in the area. Tracy shuddered to think what the list would have looked like if this had happened downtown. Since pretty much everything in the area was closed for the night, there shouldn't be too much computer traffic to sort through. Tracy loaded a sniffer program to copy the details about the last twenty minute's traffic on the open networks. She noted down the names and details of the protected networks so she could come back the next day to check them out. She debated whether she should have the last can of energy drinks while driving home. On the one hand, it was late and drinking it might keep her up even later, but on the other hand, she was thirsty and really tired. The adrenaline rush of tackling Marc had been a great pick-me-up, but the problem was that as soon as it wore off, it seemed to take with it all the caffeine stored in her system. Concern for her fellow drivers won, and at the next red light, Tracy opened the can and emptied it before the light turned green. She grimaced at the taste. She would have preferred the original what-our-chemical-engineers-think-strawberries-taste-like flavour, but the store had been sold out and all they had had left were the we'll-pretend-this-tastes-like-kiwi-but-all-you-get-is-a-furry-tongue flavoured ones. But caffeine was caffeine, and hopefully, drinking it on an empty stomach would mean that it'd kick in quickly. By the time Tracy reached home, she had gone through most of what she called the energy drink caffeine cycle. She had seen individual air molecules vibrating, had tingly fingers and a pounding pulse. Now she was crashing; her stomach was grumbling and her brain itched. She parked in the parking garage across the street and made her way back to the office, being eternally thankful for her landlord having fixed the elevator. Tracy stumbled through the door. It was a struggle to even open the boxes with her equipment so it would dry while she slept. There was only one thing she wanted to do before getting out of her damp clothes and falling into bed. Tracy opened her fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. She knew better than going to bed thirsty. She peeled off her clothes, lay back on the bed and put on a diaper before wrapping herself in her blanket. After all, she also knew better than going to sleep with a rapidly filling bladder without taking some precautions. ***

Hi everyone! This is my first time posting here so please let me know if I do something that violates community etiquette. This is the first of what will likely be several stories about this character. More writing is available on my patreon. All characters are adults. 18+ - Delilah woke up as the warm mush filled the seat of her diaper. She squirmed against the giant teddy bear that took up nearly half her bed, still too sleepy to understand the sensation. A hot rush of pee flooded her already soaked padding and she came fully awake. She opened her eyes. She was laying on her back between the legs of her teddy, with her head resting on his soft belly. Still feeling pressure in her tummy, Delilah opened her legs and pushed. She whimpered as the rest of a large, firm mess plopped into her diaper. Blushing, she reached down to gently feel the lump in her thick disposable. Her diaper warmed under her hand as her bladder finished emptying itself. She sat up with her back against her teddy’s tummy, drawing her knees up and trying not to squish her mess against her kitty. A faint but noticeable smell of poop wafted up as she flipped back her covers. Pushing back her pale pink hair, she put on her glasses and picked up her phone. Morning daddy, she typed. She held up her phone to take a selfie. After two years on estrogen, she was still both adjusting to and reveling in her own beauty. She loved her soft skin, her small firm breasts, the subtle new curves on her thin body. The low cut of her nightgown showed off her collarbones and a tiny hint of cleavage, the soft blue color of the fabric matching her eyes. Her most striking feature was her large pretty mouth, almost too big for her tiny face. Sticking out her butt and tugging up her nighty to make sure her diaper was visible, Delilah snapped her selfie. She swiped back to a message from “my daddy ❤️.” Morning baby ❤️, it read. She replied with her selfie. Turning slightly onto her side, she reached behind her and, shoving her teddy’s leg out of the way to get a better angle, took a picture of her messy diaper. The brown stain was slowly spreading up the back of the diaper after her last wetting. She sent it to her partner. my daddy ❤️: My pretty baby ❤️ my daddy ❤️: Are you poopy? Delilah smiled and leaned forward, supporting herself on her elbows as she typed. Her teddy’s fluff tickled her thighs as she jiggled her messy diaper against him. 🏳️‍🌈 LilahLemon (she/her)🍋🏳️‍⚧️: Big time hehe my daddy ❤️: Good girl 🏳️‍🌈 LilahLemon (she/her)🍋🏳️‍⚧️: Grumbles >//< A warm flush radiated from Delilah’s chest and she squeezed her legs together, causing her mess to squish between her thighs and her cheeks. She brushed her nipples with her hand and shivered. Her breasts were growing again and they were tender and sensitive. my daddy ❤️: Did you do it in your sleep? 🏳️‍🌈 LilahLemon (she/her)🍋🏳️‍⚧️: Some hehe 🏳️‍🌈 LilahLemon (she/her)🍋🏳️‍⚧️: Woke up and finished pushing my daddy ❤️: Such a good girl Delilah smiled and slipped her hand into the collar of her nightgown, rubbing her small conical nipples. She pinched her left one and gently rolled the tip between her fingers. Meeh 😛, she typed. my daddy ❤️: So glad my baby bed messes ❤️ You know I can’t help it, Delilah replied. She couldn’t. After being diapered for the last four years, her continence was nearly extinguished. She still had partial bowel control while she was awake, but she frequently woke up messing herself. Gently biting her lip, Delilah squeezed her breast. They were just large enough now to fill her small hands and she was desperate to have them touched. She wiggled her hips against her squishy padding, feeling her mess mush between her legs. Her kitty was flushed and sensitive. She dropped her hand from her breast and reached under the skirt of her nighty to cup the crotch of her diaper. Pressing it against her kitty, she kneaded the soaked filling through the plastic. Her clit was starting to drip into her diaper. May I get off daddy? She typed with her other hand. my daddy ❤️: We’ll see baby my daddy ❤️: Where's your paci sweetie? She felt over her chest, realizing her pacifier clip was missing. Around? She typed. Should be in your mouth, her partner responded. Delilah grumbled to herself and crawled over her teddy to search her bed, her plastic sheets crinkling under her. Pushing aside the covers to reveal a collection of sex toys, stuffies, snacks, and an assortment of items that absolutely should not have been in her bed, Delilah dug around under her pillows for her pacifier. Finding it between her wand and a bag of candy she’d stolen from work, Delilah popped in her mouth. She climbed on top of her teddy, straddling him, and sent a picture to her caregiver. Her pretty was face lit up in a smile behind the large pacifier shield. my daddy ❤️: There's my happy baby ❤️ Glowing with pleasure, she rocked herself against her teddy. Squeezing her teddy with her legs so she didn’t slip off, Delilah leaned over and started the video call through her webcam. “Can you see me daddy?” She said, shaking her messy butt at the camera. Her mess moved against her. “I can see you, baby.” Her caregiver’s voice crackled over her cheap speakers and Delilah smiled behind her pacifier. It was deeper than the pre-testosterone voice he had had when they first got together, but she no longer remembered any other. She pulled her nightgown off over her head and flipped her hair back as she turned around to face the camera. Shivering with excitement as the cool air hit her skin, she ran her hands over her chest. She cupped a breast in each palm and squeezed gently, more for her own enjoyment than for that of her partner watching through the webcam. She did hope that if she was sexy enough, he would let her cum. The poop in her diaper squished against her as she scooted her butt up to straddle her teddy’s head. Pressing her crotch down on his face, she rocked her kitty against his nose. She ran her hands down her smooth body to rub the front of her diaper, cupping the padding with both hands and lifting it to press against her clit. “Good girl. Baby loves her teddy, doesn't she?” “Mhmm,” Delilah bounced her butt against the bear’s head. “Does he make baby’s kitty feel nice?” “Mhmmm,” Delilah lisped around her pacifier. “My diapers berry slick daddy.” “And very full. Baby’s kitty must be so poopy.” Delilah whined and rocked herself impatiently against her bear. “I pretty sure she's still clean,” she mumbled, knowing very well she was messy all over under her diaper. “Maybe,” She heard a smile in her partner’s voice. “But you're a very good girl to rub your kitty in your mess.” A little moan slipped out of Delilah. “Just want to make stickies…” “I know you do. Where’s your toy, baby?” Delilah blushed. “Which one daddy?” “Your big one.” “Umm…” Delilah slid off her bear. Making sure to stick up her butt at the camera, she crawled over to her nest of sex toys and pulled out her large red dildo. “Dis one, dada?” She turned around, holding it up to the camera. “Yes, baby. Where’s your lube?” She shrugged. “I nono.” “Find it.” Grumbling, she dug around in her bed for her lube, finally finding it under her stuffed shark. She held it up in triumph. “Good girl. Can you say hello to your toy for me?” She took out her pacifier, licking up the length of the dildo before taking it into her mouth. She made eye contact with the camera as she took it as deep into her throat as she could, grinding her kitty into her diaper as she did. She slowly slid it out of her mouth, kissing the tip as it left her lips. Wiggling with excitement, she opened her lube bottle and dribbled it over her toy, sliding her hand up and down the shaft as she coated it. “Good baby.” Delilah popped her pacifier back in and smiled. “Can you pull your diaper aside for me?” Nodding, Delilah obediently got on all fours and pulled her diaper aside with one hand. She flushed with embarrassment to know her daddy could almost certainly see how messy she was. With her other hand, she angled her dildo under her diaper towards her asshole. She burned with humiliation as she felt her mess squishing under the toy. Pressing the tip to her hole, she pushed gently. Her body resisted at first, then, as she forced herself to relax, she felt her hole open and take in the head of the toy. She gave herself a few seconds to accept the toy and then slowly pushed the rest of the shaft into herself. She tugged her diaper back into place, trying not to get any mess on her fingers. Looking back over her shoulder, she shook her hips at the camera. “Good girl. Can you show me how you like to make your teddy feel good?” “Yesh dada.” Carefully climbing back on to her teddy, she straddled his hips and put her arms around his head. Nuzzling into his soft fur, she slowly eased down on her dildo. She whined quietly as her mess mushed under her and she humped her diaper against her teddy, her clit sliding against her soiled padding. “Does baby like that?” Delilah nodded into her teddy. “Uh…huh…” Her clit was hard now, and she shifted her full weight onto her butt, driving her dildo deeper into herself. She rolled her hips against him, riding the dildo in her diaper like it was her teddy’s cock. Leaning forward, she kissed his face through her pacifier, his fluff tickling her small breasts. She moaned into her pacifier. Kissing him made it more like real sex, but also made her feel more like a little girl “practicing” kissing on her stuffed toys. She felt pathetic. Her kitty throbbed. “Aww, is baby giving teddy kisses?” Delilah turned her head to look back at the camera. Her cheek was pressed against her bear's fur. “Just being nice to my fwiend.” “I know sweetie. Baby loves making her teddy happy, doesn't she?” She nodded. “Does he make baby’s kitty feel nice?” “Makes my kitty tinglies.” She squirmed in her diaper. “I know sweetie, your clitty is really hard isn't she? Delilah blushed. “Why’s my baby so excited?” “I nono.” She turned her face into her bear. “Is it because she knows she’s too little for big girl sex?” Delilah whined into her pacifier and rapidly humped her hard clit against her padding. Sweat rolled down her back. Her whole body felt tingly and the cold air was electric against her damp skin. She squeezed her legs around her bear, flexing her butt and thighs as she rode the toy in her ass. She moaned as the mess moved between her cheeks. “Does my baby want to cum in her dirty diaper?” “Yesh,” Her voice was high and breathy. “Yesh daddy.” “Yes what, baby?” “I wanna-” Delilah moaned into her teddy. “Wanna cum in my poopy diapy dada.” “Get your buzzy, baby.” Delilah whimpered and reached for her wand. The smell of her diaper and her own sweat hung in the air around her. She clicked it on and placed the buzzing head against the front of her diaper and sucked in her breath as her whole diaper vibrated against her kitty. Trapping the wand between herself and her bear she pushed into it hard into her crotch, mushing the silicon head into the plastic of her diaper. She pushed her hips forward, curling over herself to feel the depth of the toy in her ass. Her poopy diaper buzzed against her clit, enveloping her. She kissed her bear’s face and moaned loudly and involuntarily into her pacifier. “Is my baby close?” “Uhh…” Delilah’s mouth was open and slack around her pacifier. Her eyes were shut. She was squeezing her own breast in one hand. “Uhhuhhh…” “Is her teddy making her feel nice in her dirty diaper?” “Mhhmmm…” She nodded and moaned again. All Delilah could think about was her diaper. Her mess was buzzing against her; her own filthy, smelly reminder that she was a helpless baby. Too little for sex, too little to use the toilet. Only able to squish her soiled padding against herself until she came in her own waste. “Cum in your diaper for me, baby.” The wave of pleasure erupted from her kitty, rolling up over her hips and chest. Delilah gasped and moaned, her hand slipping from her breast to mash her wand against her diaper as she came. She whimpered against her bear’s face, rocking back on her dildo to milk out the rest of her orgasm. “Eeep,” Delilah pulled back from her wand as it suddenly became too much. Giggling, she fumbled to turn it off. She couldn’t tell if she had dribbled into her diaper or not, but her kitty was tingly and happy. Her wand clicked off. She was sleepy and warm. “All done sweetie?” She nodded as she snuggled into her bear. Her dildo felt larger in her ass now and she wiggled her butt to get comfortable. “Did you have fun?” “Duh.” Delilah was struggling to keep her eyes open. Her diaper mushed between thighs as she wrapped her legs around her teddy. God, she stunk. “Let’s get your diaper changed then.” “Uh uh.” Delilah pulled her covers up over herself. “Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” “No, dada.” Delilah felt herself peeing into her mess. She sighed happily as the damp heat spread throughout her diaper. “Are you sure?” “Mhmms.” “I love you baby.” “Wuv wu too dada.” Delilah suckled her pacifier. She closed her eyes.

Liz stood tall in front of the mirror, illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Her once male body has been transformed into a more feminine shape, yet she still scrutinizes every inch of herself with a critical eye. Her skin is smooth and supple, the unblemished surface reflecting her inner beauty outward. She admires her face with an intense stare, appreciating the delicate features that betray her true identity. Her eyes are a bright and piercing green that catch the light in a way that draws one in. The harsh angles of her masculine jawline have softened significantly, replaced by a more feminine slope. Her lips are full and luscious, painted in a deep shade of ruby red, accenting her olive skin. As she focuses her attention lower, she runs her hands eagerly up and down her body, relishing in the sensations coursing through her. The curves of her hips and thighs are especially alluring, the very embodiment of femininity. Her hands drift upward towards her ample bosom, running over each breast, cupping them gently with a loving touch. A low moan escapes from her lips as she pinches each erect nipple, reveling in the sensations that ripple through her body. Liz dips her hands down towards her crotch, teasing her cock and balls lightly, her breath quickening as she imagines what's to come. She flashes a coy smile as she runs her fingers up and down her inner thigh, making an S-curve to her pert ass. She eyes the reflection over her shoulder, admiring the round and toned cheeks, running her hands up and down the smooth skin before giving them a light squeeze and a playful slap. But as she steps back from the mirror and looks towards her bed, Liz's apprehension begins to grow, for tonight she will embark on a journey that will lead her down an uncertain path. Liz steps away from her full-length mirror and walks slowly towards her bed, trying to calm her nerves. The soft carpet feels comfortable on her bare feet as she makes her way to the side of the bed. She takes a deep breath and flips the covers up before dropping to her knees and reaching underneath the bed. Her heart is racing as she feels around for the large plastic tub she had hidden there. The nervousness she had tried to ease earlier is now almost overwhelming. But she knows what she has to do, and there's no turning back now. She finally feels the tub and starts to pull it out from underneath the bed. It's heavier than she remembers, but she manages to get it out and sets it on the carpet next to her. With her heart pounding in her chest, she grabs the lid of the tub, and with a pop, she takes it off. Liz closes her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before she reaches inside. She can feel her nerves starting to settle as she pulls out what she had hidden away. It's time to face her fears and hope for the best. Liz's hands begin to tremble as one by one the hidden contents are removed from the tub. First came the diapersThey were pastel blue and pink with prints of teddy bears and cartoon animals. She ran her fingers over the soft, padded material, marveling at how they look and feel like real baby diapers. Liz picks one up and studies it closely, noticing the elastic waistband and leg cuffs designed to prevent any leaks. She sets the diaper aside on her bed and moved on to the next item. The next item to be removed from the tub as a ball gag. It was red and made of a firm rubber material. Liz picks it up and examines it, feeling the weight of it in her hand. She wonders how it will feel to wear it and what kind of noises she'll make. Next, Liz picks up the small paddle up out of the tub. It was a small black leather paddle with hole at the bottom of the handle. She examined the smooth leather surface and feeling its weight in her hand. Liz began imagine the sting it will cause on her skin. How she had never used one before and expected to cry out in pain when struck by it. Only time would tell if that would hold true. The flogger was the next item removed from the tub. It is made of soft black leather strands that dangled from a sturdy handle. Liz ran her fingers over the strands, Feeling each one slip through her fingers. She imagined how they'll feel against her skin. It also came to her mind that she wondered if this too would make her cry out in pain. The final item Liz removed from the tub was the nipple clamps. They were small and silver with rubber tips designed to prevent slipping. Liz examined them carefully, wondering how much they'll hurt when she applies them. Liz takes a deep breath and takes one more look at the items laid out before her. She knows she wants to explore these toys and experience new sensations, but the fear of the unknown is overwhelming. She wonders if she'll be brave enough to follow through with her plan or if she'll chicken out at the last moment. With her heart racing, Liz decides to take the plunge. With her hands shaking and her heart racing, Liz takes the diaper in her hands and unfolds it, laying it out on her bed. It crinkles softly as she does, and she feels a rush of excitement mixed with apprehension. She knows that what she's about to do is not something most people would understand or accept, but she can't help the way she feels. Taking a deep breath, she climbs onto her bed and lays down on the diaper. It feels soft underneath her butt, and the diaper crinkles more as Liz adjusts the diaper before pulling the front up over her crotch and using the tabs of the diaper to tape it into place. She knows that once she's taped in, she can't take it off, and that makes her feel even more vulnerable. With the diaper on, Liz climbs off her bed. She stands there, feeling the new sensation of putting her first diaper on since she was a baby. There's a sense of freedom and release mixed with the thrill of the taboo. This is something that she was curious about, but never had the courage to try. With her hands, she explores the diaper now taped on her. Running her hands over the soft, smooth plastic, she lets out a soft moan. The diaper feels good against her cock, and she runs her hands over her diapered butt, giving it light squeezes and pats. Liz gathers up the ball gag, paddle, flogger, and nipple clamps in her arms before exiting her bedroom. As she walks down the hallway, her heart is racing. She is really doing this, and it's finally happening. She knows that there's no turning back now. Exiting the hallway, Liz takes a deep breath before stepping into the small den. Her heart was still racing from the nervousness of carrying the kink items, trying not to drop them on the floor. As she set the items down on the computer desk, the crinkling sound of her diaper became deafening in the otherwise silent apartment. With a deep sigh, Liz bent down and turned on the computer tower, listening as it hummed to life. As the computer booted up, she sat down on the comfortable computer chair, feeling the thickness of her diaper between her legs. With a shaky hand, she opened the internet browser and typed in a URL address, hitting enter. The address brings up an adult cam site, and Liz quickly logs in with her credentials. With trembling fingers, she clicks on the tab for rooms and selects her private room. She notices that the room was already filling up with eager viewers, waiting for her to appear on the cam. A wave of nervousness and self-doubt washes over Liz as she realizes the gravity of what she is about to do. She takes a deep breath and clicks the button to enter her Cam room, knowing that there was no going back now. The room of Lesbians was waiting eagerly for her to begin, and Liz's heart raced with anticipation and trepidation. Liz sat there in her private cam room, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. It was always nerve-wracking to put herself out there for anyone to see and judge, but she loved the thought of finally getting some attention. As her room loaded up and the notice of her appearance popped up on the chat, she couldn't help but feel a small surge of excitement at the number of messages she was getting. Most of them were the standard compliments on her appearance - how cute, how sexy, blah blah blah. But there were a few that stood out, commenting on the curves of her body and speculating about what she might be willing to do on camera. Liz couldn't help but feel a little flattered, even as she braced herself for the inevitable creepiness that would come with this online interaction. Without warning, Liz reached for something off-screen. She brought it up to the camera slowly, letting her viewers get a good look at what it was before she did anything with it. It was the red ball gag, the kind you might see in a BDSM scene. Suddenly the chat was a flurry of activity, everyone eager to see what Liz was going to do with the gag. Without a word, she opened her mouth wide and fit the ball inside, fastening the strap firmly behind her head. As she did so, the messages in the chat grew increasingly lewd and suggestive. Some complimented her on how cute she looked gagged, while others speculated about what else she might enjoy having in her mouth. For Liz, it was equal parts thrilling and unnerving. She loved this new feeling of desired, but there was always the nagging worry that these wpmen didn't see her as a person so much as an object to be used for their pleasure. And while she found herself loving playing the submissive on camera, there was a part of her that wondered if it was worth the cost to her self-esteem. But for now, Liz put those worries aside and focused on the rush of adrenaline she felt as she started to perform for her viewers, gagged and subservient on camera. For better or for worse, there was no turning back now. The show had barely just begun, and Liz's heart was racing. She was nervous, but also excited to continue her performance. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and stepped back to give the best view of her diaper for all to see. The comments came pouring in, filled with love and lewdness for her appearance. More comments came as Liz began running her hands over the soft plastic like fabric of her diaper, Liz felt a wave of pleasure wash over her body. She let out a soft moan as she pressed against the diaper, feeling it crinkle and mold itself to her body. The gag in her mouth made it hard to breathe, but it also added to the eroticism of the experience. Liz turned around to give her viewers a full view of her diapered butt, feeling a hint of embarrassment but also a sense of liberation. She had always been a bit shy about her body, but being in this submissive role made her feel empowered in a different way. After a few minutes of showing off her diaper, Liz sat back down to catch her breath. Liz's heart was pounding in her chest as she continued to stare at the endless stream of comments pouring into her chatroom. It excited her to know that she had such an impact on her audience. She found herself enjoying the power and control she now had over those watching her. Without hesitation, she reached for the nipple clamps laying on the computer desk. She knew what her audience would love to see next, and she was not going to disappoint them. As she held up the clamps for all to see, a rush of comments and reactions flooded the chat. Liz closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing what was coming next. She applied the first clamp to her left breast, letting out a moan of pain and pleasure that was muffled by the gag in her mouth. She repeated the process with the second clamp on her right breast, feeling the pressure build up inside of her. After a moment, Liz leant back in her computer chair, showing off the clamps to her audience. The chat went wild, filling up with comments about how much they enjoyed watching her in pain. Liz then took her fingers and began to flick the clamps, sending waves of shocks through her body, causing her to moan louder, and her chat to explode with excitement. She was lost in this new world of pleasure, reveling in the moments of ecstasy that she could give her viewers. Liz found herself not wanting this moment to end, and neither did her audience. Liz took a deep breath, forcing herself to quiet her mind and focus on the task at hand. She closed her eyes, relishing in the cool air blowing from the AC vent against the hot flush of her skin, and took a moment to adjust the clamps on her breasts. The sharp pain of the clamps had begun to dull to a more manageable ache, but Liz knew they would continue to be a source of pleasure throughout the remainder of her show. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and checked the chat. The messages were still flooding in, with viewers expressing their admiration for her performance. Liz moaned quietly around the ball gag as she stood up from her chair and turned around, giving the audience a full view of her naked, diapered body. She ran her fingers over the surface of the diaper, feeling the crinkling material under her touch. The smell of her arousal was starting to intoxicate her, and she knew she couldn't hold back much longer. Liz leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes as she reached down and grabbed the crotch of the diaper and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel the warmth of her own arousal against her skin as her throbbing cock pressed hard against the confines of its padded prison. Liz began to rub the crotch of her diaper, slowly at first but soon her pace became quicker and quicker. The sound of rapid crinkling of her diaper becaming deafening and Liz knew that the chat had to be blowing up right about now. She moaned louder now, the sound muffled by the gag, as she brought herself closer and closer to the edge. Liz was momments away from climaxing into her diaper when she stopped her rubbing and pulled her hand away from her diaper. The time for this would come but not right now, there was still much more to show to her auidence. She opened her eyes and looked at the chat, seeing the messages of appreciation and adoration flooding in. Liz smiled from behind the gag, her heart pounding in her chest, as she realized that the rush of emotions and the pleasure of performing for her audience was both intoxicating and arousing at the same time. She leaned forward towards the camera, letting the viewers see the glossy sheen on the ball gag and the drool leaking out from behind the gag. The chat was a buzz with many comments from her viewers about what pretty eyes she had and how hot they found the condition of the ball gag. Liz leaned back in her computer chair and watched the chat for a bit as she caught her breath and slowed her heart rate. Liz took a deep breath as she sat at her desk, staring at the camera before her. She knew her viewers were expecting more from tonight's performance, and she was determined to give it to them. Attempting a sly smile from behind her gag, Liz reached out and grabbed the paddle from her computer desk, holding it up high for all her viewers to see. The moment the paddle came into view, the chat came to life with a flurry of messages, ranging from excitement to pure lewdness. Liz couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions as she read through the messages. With a confident look in her eyes, Liz began swishing the paddle through the air, letting its whistling sound echo through the room. She could feel her cock pressing hard against the confines of her diaper, as she realized just how much power she held in her hands. And with a deep breath, she started the next part of her show. She leaned back in her computer chair, her bare thighs exposed as she took the paddle and began to smack it against her skin. She moaned softly into her gag, relishing in the small surges of pain that shot through her body. Her viewers watching intently as she alternated between her thighs, the paddle making a satisfying thwack each time it connected with her skin. The chat became a flurry of messages as Liz's thighs began to turn pink from the paddling. Her viewers cheered her on, urging her to spank herself harder and harder. Liz complied, and soon the shade on her thighs was turning into a nice dark shade pink. Taking a few deep breaths, Liz kept the paddle in hand and pressed it against her diapered crotch. The sound of the diaper crinkling was music to her ears, and she began rubbing the paddle harder and harder against her padded crotch. Liz could feel her cock pushing back from inside the diaper, straining against the soft padding.She moaned softly into her gag as more slobber and drool coated and escaped her gag. the combination of pain and pleasure taking her to a place of pure ecstasy, and the chat was a flurry of messages from all her viewers both loving what they were seeing as well as pushing her to do more. As she continued to rub the paddle against her diaper, Liz felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge, but it was still not time for the climax, there was still more to do. She stood up from her computer chair, and turned around to show her viewers her diapered ass. They immediately became excited, and many of them began leaving lewd message as they knew what was to come. Liz couldn't help but feel empowered by the attention. Bending over and using the chair for support, Liz raised the paddle and began to smack her diapered ass with it. The sound echoed throughout her room, and she could feel the vibrations of each strike spreading through her body.Despite the pain, Liz was in ecstasy. She moaned into her gag as she continued to paddle herself, feeling her cock press into her diaper with each strike. It wasn't long before her cock was good and hard and leaking precum into her diaper. Satisfied with this part of her show, Liz sat back into her chair with a satisfied sigh from behind her gag. After breif minute, Liz reached out and picked up the flogger from her desk, she could feel the excitement building within her. She knew that her viewers were still watching her every move and it made her feel powerful. Holding the flogger in her delicate hands, Liz slapped it lightly against her open palm. The falls of the flogger landed gently on her skin, but she knew that with each stroke, the pain would intensify. She slapped it against her hand a few more times, testing its weight and feel. Liz had never used one before and unlike the paddle she had read that some serious damage could be done with a flogger if not used properly. Once satisfied with the flogger, she turned around to show off her backside to the camera. Making sure her diaper was visible, she began to swing the flogger over her shoulder, striking her back. With each strike, Liz moaned loudly into her gag, the pleasure and pain mixing together to create a heady sensation. She switched hands, swinging the flogger over her other shoulder, the falls landing heavily on her back. Liz was lost in her own world now, the sensation of the flogger on her skin and the tightness of her diaper causing her cock to leak more precum. When she was finished, she slumped back down in her computer chair, trying to catch her breath while slobber and drool leaked from her gag. Her back was marked with bright pink welts from the impact of the flogger. It had been a good show, but she knew it was time to bring this show to an end. Liz took a deep breath before reaching down to open one of the drawers of her computer desk. She knew what she was looking for was in there somewhere, but her fingers fumbled as she dug around in the disorganized drawer. Her heart was pounding as she felt the eyes of hundreds of viewers waiting for her next move. The chat was buzzing with anticipation of what Liz would do next. Every move she made was being closely watched and analyzed by the eager audience. Finally, Liz's hand closed around what she was looking for. She pulled out a small pink vibrator and held it up to the camera, the bright light glinting off the smooth surface. Instantly, the viewers began to react, their messages flooding the chat room. Liz couldn't help but smile from behind her gag as she held the vibrator in her hand, knowing full well the effect it was having on her audience. She moved it slowly, teasingly, holding their attention as she showed it off to the camera, all while stoking their desire for what was to come next and what came next had the full attention of her viewers. She had one hand buried between her legs, directly above her diaper, pressed up against the small pink vibrator she was using to send ripples of pleasure into her body. Her other hand had been slipped down the front of her diaper and was now moving frantically against her throbbing cock. Both efforts were now guiding her pleasure as she bit down on her gag in order to muffle her moans of delight. She could feel the wetness pooling on her breasts from the drool and slobber as she came closer and closer to orgasm. Her body shuddered increasingly with every second as the waves of pleasure grew in intensity. Finally, Liz couldn't take it anymore and let out one last guttural scream as she experienced the powerful orgasm, spilling her cum into her diaper. Liz collapsed back in the chair, panting with pleasure and satisfaction, enjoying the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. She felt relieved and content, knowing that she had left her viewers with something they wouldn't soon forget. Liz sat back in her computer chair, exhausted but elated from the success of her cam show. She glanced over at the room chat, and was blown away by the number of messages that had come in during her performance. She scrolled through them, reading each one carefully. They were all full of praise and compliments, and Liz found herself proud of the show she had just put on for her audience. As she read through the messages, she couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that had been building up inside her throughout the show. She knew that what she was about to do was risky, but there was no turning back now. Heart racing, Liz reached up and slowly unclipped the nipple clamps from her breasts. She winced in pain as blood began to flow back into her breasts, and let out a soft moan into her gag. With shaking hands, she reached into another drawer of her computer desk and pulled out a piece of white printer paper. Her heart racing, she slowly brought the paper up to view of the camera. The paper read "For Sale, highest offer within next 10 mins." Below was the address for her Venmo account. Liz's heart pounded as she watched the messages flood in. She knew that what she was doing was risky, but she felt compelled to do this. Liz sat there patiently waiting while watching her Venmo account. A few beads of sweat trickled down her forehead as she took note of all the transaction requests that were popping up. Her eyes darted back and forth between her computer screen and her phone, scanning each transaction while double-checking the names with the names of the people in the chat of her cam room. She had only ten minutes to make her decision, and the clock on her computer seemed to tick away at an agonizingly slow pace. Something about this auction had her on edge. Maybe it was the sheer amount of offers she was getting. She knew she had put on a good show, but she did not know this many people would want her. As the clock ticked closer to the ten-minute mark, Liz's heart began to race. She knew she had to make a decision soon. Finally, the ten minutes were up, and Liz tapped accept for the highest offer she received, declining all the others. It was official; she had just sold herself to a lesbian woman that she knew nothing about. Before Liz shut off her computer, she quickly sent a message to the user from the chat who had just bought her. The message provided her new owner with her address and where the spare apartment key was located. Liz knew she was taking a big risk, but from the beginning she had felt the desire to do this. Even if it meant putting herself in a vulnerable position. She could only hope that she had made the right decision.. Exiting the den, Liz walks into the living room with the small pink vibrator clutched tightly in her hand. Her heart races with anticipation, her palms sweaty as she realizes that she is about to embark on a new adventure. Kneeling down by the couch and the coffee table, Liz took a deep breath, feeling her body tremble with excitement. On the coffee table lay a roll of clear packing tape and a breathable bondage hood that had no mouth or eye holes. She reaches for the clear packing tape, feeling the texture of the tape against her fingers. With a sense of urgent need, Liz secures the small pink vibrator to the front of her diapered crotch, the soft silicone a comforting presence against her diaper. Next, she pulls the bondage hood over her head, plunging herself into darkness. The small, rasping sound of her own breath echoes in the confined space, heightening her sense of vulnerability. Fumbling in the dark, Liz uses the clear packing tape to bind her own wrists to the best of her ability. It is a bit tricky, but she manages with practiced ease. With her wrists now bound and the small pink vibrator humming away between her legs, Liz waits on her knees in the darkness. She knows that she is now at the mercy of whoever her new owner might be. But the anticipation of what is to come is almost unbearable, sending shivers of desire down her spine. She knows that she is ready for anything and everything, ready to be taken to the limits of her pleasure and beyond. And with that thought, Liz closes her eyes and surrenders herself to the unknown. It seemed like an eternity that Liz had been waiting in her living room like this. Self bound, hooded, and with a vibrator taped to the crotch of her diaper. The room was silent except for the buzzing of the vibrator and its vibrations against her diaper. Liz found herself moaning into her gag, lost in the sensations. Thoughts of her new owner raced through her head. What would she look like? How would she treat her? Liz had never been auctioned off before, never been a submissive. But the thrill of it all had enticed her, and now she was eagerly waiting for her new mistress to claim her. Lost in thought, she didn't hear her front door open. Not until she felt the presence of someone in the room with her. Liz felt herself being lifted up from the floor by this person. She could tell that it was a woman. So her self-auction had worked, her new owner was indeed a woman, a lesbian at that. This woman led Liz down the hall towards her bedroom, and as they walked, the woman uttered one simple sentence, "Are you ready to be a good slut for your new mistress." In shock, Liz realized the woman who had bought her, one of the many women who had watched her cam show tonight, was the manager of her apartment building. All Liz could do was let out a muffled reply of compliance and excitement. She was now entirely at her new mistress's mercy, eager to please and explore. The night was just beginning for her.

Hi everybody! As a long time lurker and even longer writer for my own enjoyment, I finally got the push to actually share something. It couldn't have been done without the help of some writer friends, /u/Sissybecky (r/abdlstories) who beta read and Clairanette (aka Clairacuddles on A03), talking to both of them for hours about writing. Check them out too! Scarlet is a young woman down on her luck. She has a broken heart, bank account, and sex life. Her luck finally seems to be changing when she is offered a job on the outher side of the country, and really has no option but to take it. But what she doesn't know about the city of Caulfield Valley may get her in trouble, like what her new boss, Emilia Kane, secretly does as a side hussle. a slowburn, long form lesbian fic that is very kinky and ABDL oriented. 1- so it feels real There is both terror and freedom in restarting your life. Not in a cosmic sense, but in the moving-across-the-country-and-leaving-everyone-you-knew-on-the-opposite-coast sense. That is where Scarlet found herself this morning. Eyes red from her jetlag, hair a mess from the uncomfortable seats, and a puffy-eyed death stare meeting her from the scratched bathroom mirror. Even with her fresh start, the fresh apartment, she was not ready for her first day at a new job in this new, unfamiliar city. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to forget. She wanted to go back to her home with—a pang of heartbreak through her chest interrupted the thought. That home was no longer there, and no one was waiting for her to come home. Instead, Scarlet let out a dejected sigh, opened the cardboard moving box that contained the toiletries that were not in her carry-on, and got in the shower. She was up far earlier than she realistically needed to be, to make sure she could wash her hair, shave her legs, and still have plenty of time for makeup and a relaxed cab ride to work. The pipes whined and hot water splashed her face as the new-ish utilities sprung to life. She focused on getting the sleep out of her eyes. She resented her own anxious, over-prepare-until-exhausted tendencies. Yet Scarlet knew that on mornings where she didn’t do this, she was late. It was part of why she’d lost her last position as a Library clerk. God, that feels like a lifetime ago. If I started taking those then…what if... Scarlet let the thought drift up with the steam, and focused on the rigorous maintenance that her curly, shoulder-length bob required. The rest of the shower went likewise. She would move on to some other form of self-grooming, only for another intrusive thought to appear, and she would do her best to let it roll off of her. By the time she was done, dripping into a towel and stepping out, she had gotten most of the self loathing scrubbed off. Scarlet turned to face the same mirror. She wiped the fogged glass with one pale hand, and the same dead-eyed look greeted her. Scarlet forced a smile, hollow but just enough to come across as courteous and eager, rather than like a retail worker who was dead inside. She had plenty of practice masking in this way. Her breakfast was a microwaved cup of coffee and protein bar, the leftovers from her flight. She’d have to go to the grocery after work. She ate just enough to then turn to her prescriptions, the small, resentful white triangles tasting bitter and frustrating, her knowing that it was a 50/50 on whether she would be vomiting before lunch. The three small blue estrogen pills had to melt sublingually, and wouldn’t upset her stomach. They did, however, taste like minty asshole as they dissolved under her tongue while she started her makeup routine. It went quickly, Scarlet’s old “professional” looks still in her head after years of rushed mornings where her mediocre nutrition and makeup routine battled for time. Her hands danced; brushing, patting, dabbing, blending, and setting at a quick but deliberate pace. This wasn’t Scarlet’s first time working places that made her tone down her looks and cover her smattering of artsy tattoos that criss crossed her arms. Her new boss had assured her however, that so long as she wore at least business casual and none of the tattoos visible were profane, no one would care. Simple enough to cover the guillotine on her shoulder blade or the shoddy stick and poke of her highschool bff’s band “The Fart Coffins” on the opposite blade. She only sometimes regretted that one out of any of the designs on her body. She finished with a modest amount of very neutral blush, and got up to dress in the outfit she had laid out the night before. A simple white blouse and black skirt, black tie, black flats. Should show a good first impression for a secretary of a legal office. She couldn’t help but roll the sleeves partially, however, showing hints and edges of her ink. Scarlet made sure her hair was dry, shook her head as a jolt of the last taste of estrogen left her mouth, and called for her cab. Just before leaving, she packed her purse, and heard an unfamiliar jingling at the bottom. Fishing through the myriad receipts, dust bunnies and half finished chapsticks, she finally found the culprit, and her heart dropped. A simple gold ring, with an inscription inside; Futile – the winds –/ To a Heart in port –The singular band was heavy in her hand, and Scarlet felt the heartbreak all over again. She wanted nothing more than to scream. She wanted to sob until her throat was hoarse, to wail in pain. She wanted to call her. Instead, she tenderly wiped the welling tear in one eye to preserve her mascara, roughly threw open the drawer to toss the precious bomb in with a clatter. The front door slammed and locked behind her. The cab hummed quietly as it rode down the dense city streets, and Scarlet focused on taking in the sites of tree leaves slowly changing color through the cab window. She was headed further downtown from her new apartment, and even still there were beautiful trees she wasn’t familiar with. This is exactly what I thought the East Coast to look like, and yet it’s even more beautiful than I could have imagined, she mused to herself. She was used to her hometown in the Bay, the palms and pines of the San Francisco and Oakland areas all she had made friends with until now. The trees were dotted in front of the tall downtown shops, looking like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. She took a picture every now and again, killing time until her quiet cab driver pulled over to a sidewalk. Scarlet smoothed her skirt, handed the man his fare and a tip, and stepped out in front of a small office building. Her flats echoed against the shiny, reflective tile as she followed signs and elevator directories to Kane Arbitration & Mediation Legal Services. The interior of the elevator shined, polished enough that Scarlet could see her own reflection. She took a moment as she rode to the fourth floor, using the reflection to adjust her skirt. She was so tall that no matter what she wore, it always eventually turned into a skirt shorter than intended, and that was the last thing she wanted to project on her first day. Once the soft fabric was in place, better resting on her hips and covering much of her long thighs, she noticed she had arrived. Scarlet swallowed, her nerves making it louder than she had wanted, and exited as the doors parted. Kane Legal was one of the only offices on this floor, and it didn’t take her long to find, but she paused outside the door anyway. She took solace in the fact her new employer wouldn’t be able to see her through the doors frosted glass. Scarlet had a moment to steady the shaking in her hands. There’s nothing left for you back there. This has to work. You have no other option. The thought was supposed to be comforting. She opened the door and recalled all the times that thought would light a fire in her—to ignite the contrarian and spiteful nature she had to anyone that doubted her. A year ago, this would have made her unstoppable…but the last year was harder than she could have ever predicted. The reception area of the office was nicely decorated, looking like the kind you’d see on a mid-budget daytime law drama. No one was at the desk that she assumed would be hers, so she tried to peer around a corner leading to what she assumed would be Miss Kane’s proper office. Sure enough, a door at the end of the hall was open and revealed a head of deep black hair peaking just over the top of a large computer monitor. Scarlet took a moment for them to notice her. In another life, Scarlet would have confidently marched into the office, head held high, with enough swagger to convince anyone that she owned this office. Now the poor girl stood there, shivering as her future awaited. The Scarlet of a year ago would have left this newer Scarlet behind, just like the one she cared about the most. She prayed this wasn’t some kind of test. “Excuse me?” She called out, causing the head to twitch, “I’m looking for Miss Kane?” The top of the head rose for a pair of eyes to see just over the top, and then a hand brusquely slid the monitor on a pivoting stand out of the way. Scarlet recognized her now, the telltale hazel, almost golden eyes and a striking streak of platinum blonde to one side having stuck with her since their video interview. “And you have found her.” Her voice merrily sang, reverberating down the tiled hall. She stood. “You must be Ms. Finch. I am so glad to finally get you out here. May I be the first to properly welcome you to Caulfield Valley, I hope your flight was smooth?” Scarlet was immediately put off balance, having to look up at someone for once. Even if Emilia Kane hadn’t been in imposing black heels, she would easily have three inches on the six feet even Scarlet. She effortlessly glided down the hall towards Scarlet, her hand outstretched. Scarlet met her, returning her’s for a handshake. The taller woman’s hands were so soft. “Ah, t-thank you, Ma’am.” She politely smiled, and decided to rest her hands on the strap of her purse so as to not fidget. “I appreciate that, it was a long flight.” She wanted to divulge how exhausted and sore she was, but held back. “That is such a shame.” Emilia twisted her mouth into a concerned frown for a moment, a hand grabbing her chin in thought. “If you ever need to fly for me again, I can make sure you have better accommodations. Thankfully, your first day probably will not be too demanding. I am hoping to simply get you familiar with the way I organize best and have you operating at full speed before my next big meeting in…,” She checked the date on her phone, pulling it from the breast pocket of her dark green suit, “-three days. Does all that sound good?” Scarlet sighed in relief. “More than good, Ma’am, I’m sure I can be up to snuff by the end of the day.” She was a tiny bit surprised by how confident she sounded. “Oh please, Ma’am makes me feel old.” She waved a hand as if shooing the notion away, “I know to most it is respectful, but I prefer ‘Miss’ or just Emilia if it is all the same to you.” She rested the same hand now on her hips, which Scarlet noted were surprisingly accented in this type of suit. She nodded in response, and Emilia gestured for her to sit in the chair behind the receptionist desk. The woman looked like she was off a runway, the two piece suit and platinum jewelry complimenting her intense eyes and the vibrant streak of silver- no, platinum blonde in her hair. The hazel of her eyes became almost amber-gold as the light from the windows caught them. When her new employer wasn’t looking, she shook her head to erase the thoughts. Scarlet couldn’t exactly be thinking about how attractive her boss was if she didn’t want to risk her new living situation. “—and your last employer said you were familiar with all of these programs, is that right?” The question snapped Scarlet back to reality as Emilia motioned to the open windows of the computer. “That’s right. All of this is right in my wheelhouse.” Scarlet affirmed, grateful that the job didn’t seem to have any sudden surprises. “And this looks like a pretty standard inter-office set up on the phones as well. Would you prefer a call or a ping on your computer when you have a call or a client?” She hoped the question would help make her seem competent and ‘a go-getter,’ something her father had told her once upon a time about starting a new job. “A call is fine unless I am already with a client. If I do not respond, you may call regardless.” Emilia said, a small smile of approval spreading across her red lips. “On the topic of clients, occasionally you are to sit in for meetings and you will be taking notes. These are legal matters and meet the standard of attorney-client-privilege. So it is vitally important you understand that anything you hear or write down in those meetings are confidential, but could end up under scrutiny if we were ever to be sued or subpoenaed. Are you comfortable with that?” “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Scarlet nodded, “To be clear, any notes I take are private between you and I unless that happens right? Like—” she kicked herself for her valleygirl filler word, and tried to recover, “a doctor? For example, I wouldn’t talk about this with anyone except you or the client, even during off hours?” Scarlet couldn’t lie to herself and say that didn’t make her anxious. Her understanding of the legal system told her there were a million and one ways to mess up proceedings if everyone didn’t know them ahead of time. The clarity would help alleviate that anxiety. “Exactly. We can talk about it informally outside of the office but we must use discretion. God forbid you run into a client at a bar, make sure neither of you are shouting without realizing. However you got the most important part. Good job.” Something inside Scarlet warmed at her new boss’s approval. Emilia’s phone lit up and began ringing in her hand. She rolled her eyes. “I have to take this,” she explained, grabbing a small packet from the top drawer of the desk, “Just answer the phone if any calls come in and start filling this out with your info so I can make payments and records and such. It will only take a moment!” Emilia walked back up the hall, closing the door of her office. Scarlet could hear her talking in a tone that sounded professional and even, but couldn’t make out anything specific. When Scarlet realized she could not eavesdrop, no matter how hard she tried to focus, she instead grabbed a pen from the desk and focused on the forms. They were typical of starting with any new employer: tax info, new address, signing agreements. Scarlet was sorely missing the over-designed packets she would receive on her first day at each of the oversized chain stores she had grown up working at. The kind that tries to convince the reader that “we’re a family here,” isn’t the same as “your boss will not give a single shit about you if you think for yourself.” They were always a riot to laugh at with her fellow cashiers, clerks, and baristas. Everything was astonishingly professional, and felt tailored to the tiny law office. The forms were of course up to every standard Scarlet was aware of, but everything appeared handwritten and then copied from a master document. The young woman marveled at the curves and loops that seemed so practiced, so official. Calligraphy as a hobby? Scarlet’s daydream was broken as the phone rang. Her arm sprung to life, grabbing the phone and bringing it to her ear. “Hello, Legal Offices of Miss Kane, how can I help you?” Her mind auto piloted the greeting, a tactic she’d learned as a young adult to perform before any social anxiety made her hesitate to answer. There was a silent beat, broken only by soft background hum from the receiver. A deeper voice finally spoke. “Oh, is Miss Kane not in?” “I’m sorry, she’s stepped away for another call. I’m the new secretary.” The professional mask came back to her like a second skin, despite over a year of disuse. “Can I take a message for you?” Scarlet offered. “Er,” The voice stammered for a moment, then clarified, “Yeah. Actually, you can tell her that I have to back out of Friday’s meeting, I won’t be rescheduling. She can keep the deposit. Goodbye.” Scarlet busied herself scribbling the note down. “Wait, I’ll need to tell her your name.” She tried to catch the man before he disconnected. It was too late, the line went dead. Scarlet took a confused look at the receiver before returning it to the cradle. She tried to imagine what would have someone behaving this way, but even her previous customer support and retail work did not track here. Scarlet merely blinked in confusion and returned to filling her new employment forms. She could hear the muffled speech of her new boss, not able to pick distinct words, only cadence. The forms were dull and simple enough, and before too long Emilia’s office door clicked open. Scarlet was finishing the bottom lines of the last page, hoping quietly to impress the imposing woman, as childish as that want may be. Emilia’s heels marked her approach down the hall, and Scarlet spun gracefully in her swivel chair to face her. “Did I hear a call come in while I was gone?” “You did, and I've got a message,” Scarlet tried her best to sound professional yet nonchalant, “your Friday meeting canceled, said to keep his deposit.” She looked up to Emilia to gauge her superior’s reaction. Emilia gave nothing but a solitary eyebrow twitch. “He didn’t leave a name and hung up…is that normal?” “Whether it’s normal or not, we get to keep the deposit for my time, and that’s what matters to me.” Emilia said, too hurried to be as casual. Scarlet decided to just let that slip.There was something going on here, but she would catch the intricacies of the client relationships soon enough. Emilia very pointedly avoided her gaze to check the time, and excused herself again. The rest of the day moved slowly, save for asking Scarlet for a coffee run in the afternoon, which turned into buying a cafe scone for Scarlet’s lunch as well. She busied herself with memorizing the upcoming schedule, the program, and the routine expected of her. She tried not to fidget as the caffeine had its way with her later in the day. The bouncing of her leg coincided with an increase in worry. Would she have another reaction to this medication like her last, and be unable to sleep? Would Emilia be angry that she wasn’t being proactive in some way? How was she supposed to know? She paused, trying to stop ruminating. She lifted her hands away from the keyboard. They were shaking, and she squeezed her eyes closed. When Scarlet opened them, they focused through her fingers, at the sticky note she had written down the message, and the smaller coffee order beneath it. Sighing, she wrote down the coffee order on her phone and on her desktop notepad. If she could do nothing, she would be constructive and prepared for the future. Her hands kept shaking for the remainder of the shift. Scarlet wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety, the caffeine, or her meds. She’d been so isolated until moving she hadn’t noticed if the shaking started then. Just past five, Emilia’s heels clicked down the hall, a smart designer purse over one shoulder. “Now, is there anything I can clarify before we leave?” Her voice sang again and the hall reverberated in tune with her voice like Brian Eno was behind it. Scarlet shook her head, smiling with her mask back on as she spun to face Emilia again. “Thank you so much, but I don’t think I’ve got any questions yet.” Scarlet wanted to be sincere in thanking her, drop the facade and business-casual tone. Speaking without rehearsal tended to bite her in the ass lately. She squeezed her hands between her thighs to try and avoid any probing questions. Scarlet could only imagine suspicious and overbearing concern at best if her new boss thought there was something wrong with her medically. “Is there anything else I can help with? I’ve just been organizing your schedule and getting used to the layout in here all day.” She desperately wanted to get her groceries before it was too dark. “No thank you, Scarlet. You’ve already helped me enormously, you have no idea.” Emilia ushered Scarlet out the door, and locked it behind her. * * If one thing in the world could be counted on, it was chain stores being identical on the inside. Scarlet pushed an identically squeaky cart up identically packed aisles among indistinguishable brands. The only difference really seemed to be the accents. She approached bulk rice bags, hesitated, and drew out her phone with dread. Her meager bank account balance confirmed her fears, and she begrudgingly went for the generic. Other staples like cheap instant ramen and pasta followed suit. The sole splurge was the cheapest, sweetest, garbage brand of red wine she could find. Her cab ride was identical, save for the setting sun behind her. Purples and oranges and cotton-candy-clouds danced behind her, out of view, as she slowly sank her head against the cool glass of the window. At least the trees are still pretty. She raised her phone again to try and take a picture, but the camera went grainy in the growing dark. Her new apartment greeted her with the same lonely tone as when she first received the keys. It was cold, it was empty, the furnishings were bland and picked by the property management company. Nothing here was hers yet, save the stacked boxes of cardboard. Her tired arms carried the groceries to their appropriate resting places, and she cracked open the wine before settingling on the couch. Out of habit she reached for her remote, only to remember she didn’t have a TV yet. Sold for the moving expenses. Scarlet was so tired of sighing. She took a swig of wine, an old comfort that was basically a juicebox and rubbing alcohol that reminded her of being broke in college. She opened her phone, wishing for any stimulation. Her friends, (rather former friends) were still posting stories, still sharing their bad takes and inane jokes. She considered getting off the couch to do the same. It was all performative anyway, right? But the energy wouldn’t come when she called out for it. Another sip, and she swapped apps. Scarlet noticed the singular blink of darkness on her phone’s screen. “Please, you piece of shit. I really can’t afford you to die right now.” Her worries seemed unfounded, as the brilliant screen returned and the malfunction wasn’t replicated for the rest of the night. What was strange, however, were the kinds of new accounts she was being recommended as she scrolled her timeline. Now, Scarlet was no prude. She enjoyed fucking and her alone time as much as anyone. Estrogen and Progesterone even maybe had her hornier than the average. But her timeline wasn’t full of this much smut. She had friends in the sex work game, but she didn’t exactly like, share, favorite, reblog, or any other influencer verb their content. Another website breaking their algorithm again? Even if Dani did porn, she didn’t do this kind of porn. Morbid curiosity, and a slight increase in her pulse, beckoned Scarlet onward. Drawings, videos, and staged photos of women in things she’d only seen in racy HBO content. She didn’t even know what to call the more intricate…props…but felt herself linger on a clip of a woman riding a…pleasure machine plugged into the wall behind her. Scarlet’s face matched her namesake and she scrolled on. A woman sitting at a home office, the quintessential framing of every vlog you’ve ever watched. Finally somebody is fucking sane in this world. She clicked the video without even reading the caption, and the perky eyed labrador retriever of a woman began to speak. “Hi everybody! This is the Channel of O. SO!” The blonde clapped for emphasis. “You’re trying to learn about BDSM, and you have no idea where to start.” Scarlet’s eyes went wide, she took another sip, and watched the woman jumpcut and explain through terrible jokes. It was a trainwreck, steam engines exploding in her mind. It made her hot in the crotch. Scarlet finished her glass, finished the video, and poured herself another while going deeper to the woman’s personal channel. More videos, more introductory guides. Scarlet polished the second glass, and was too engrossed despite the initial impulse to cringe to even pour another. Her alarm rang to remind her to take the rest of her medication, pulling her out of her trance.How long had she been zoned out? It was eight thirty. Losing track of time like that wasn’t uncommon for her and this diversion was welcome. She resigned herself and went to go take another dose of bitter antidepressants and her dose of Progesterone. Once the poison was administered, she looked across her kitchen to the counter where she left her phone. It lay there, like a metal megalith, imposing despite being a little plastic rectangle. Scarlet had to gather her nerve just to walk across the room and lift the damn thing. Once it was back in her hand, she used shaking hands to unlock it. The Channel of O was still smiling up at her, and she felt her cheeks getting redder. Her glass of wine was forgotten as she brought her phone to her bedroom. She unboxed her duvet, and sat on the soft material as the video resumed. Scarlet was enthralled, soaking in every bit of knowledge she could. “There’s all kinds of different dynamics! You’re probably familiar with a ‘master/slave’ dynamic,” The blonde woman began, “but there’s also pets and owners, and even daddies, mommies,—” Scarlet’s pulse quickened,”—or more generically caregivers and littles! Sometimes that’s called ABDL if it involves diapers.” Scarlet felt her breath catch in her throat. Her fingers flew into a flurry, and a private internet search later, her phone was filled with images that made her heartbeat accelerate. Videos, drawings, and many, many depictions of adult women, with all their curves and freckles and other parts that excited Scarlet, in thick diapers. They ranged across all body types, and the infantile garb varied from plain white plastic to over the top patterns to evoke baby diapers. Scarlet continued to scroll, eyes wide in wonder and excitement. She finally stopped, a thumbnail capturing her attention like a punch to the gut and clicked the video. Scarlet’s mouth went wide, and felt herself starting to leak into her panties. A gorgeous, curvaceous woman was lying on her back, supple lips wrapped around the nipples of another woman, in nothing but a pastel colored diaper and delicate, lacy lingerie top. The tender moment evoked breastfeeding, save for the “mother” holding a massive vibrator against the woman’s…diaper. The “baby” of the couple was moaning, growing louder, and Scarlet felt a tent form under her skirt. Eventually, the “baby” was screaming, thrusting her hips into the massive sex toy, in time with cries of “Mommy!” Mommy’s smile was intoxicating. She was very clearly getting off just as much as her baby, her face painted a combination of maternal nurturing, hedonistic pleasure, ecstatic elation, and sadistic control as she began thrusting the enormous vibrator in time with her partner’s thrusts. It was obviously acting on the merit of pornography, but Scarlet couldn’t tear herself away. She allowed her hand to snake up to a nipple poking through her top. Scarlet realized her own arousal, and in embarrassment, closed the tab, flinging her phone to the edge of the bed like it was a dangerous spider. She flung the covers off, racing to the bathroom for a cold shower.

How have you been punished for masturbation either as an AB or in RL. If caught I would have my penis slapped with a ruler. And what about you?

Soooo, this is my first time writing anything like this really--so let me know what you guys think, I guess! Super Sexual , so beware ? **************************************** After browsing around on in the more unsavory parts of the internet for about 2-3 hours, she was beginning to feel the effects of her exploring-- Within her lukewarm diaper, she'd been feeling slippery and sticky between her puffy lips for some time. She shifted uncomfortably in her bed, rubbing her thighs together softly. It was annoying, because she'd already put her diaper on for the night, and she didn't plan on taking it off. It was then that a gross thought popped into her mind: …she could try touching herself in her diaper?? She lightly cringed at the thought--but, it was sure to be more rewarding than the normal routine she went through to pleasure herself. The padding was thick and a little warm; she thought back to some of the videos she saw online--girls humping things in their used diapers, people tied up with Hitachi wands to their padded crotches…. She had actually purchased her own Hitachi wand weeks ago…for the very same purpose, even if she didn't wanna admit it. However, it was taking its sweet time getting to her. Chuckling to herself at her absurdity, she wondered why she hadn’t done something more productive to quell her boredom. Obviously, watching hours of porn was bound to have some type of effect on her--even if she was only watching out of ennui. She felt embarrassed and silly: she’d watched everything from erotic wrestling (..you wouldn’t expect it to be overly hot--but it was..) to hours of orgasm denial and torture videos. She’d been subconsciously teasing herself for some time now without even knowing it; during each video she watched, she would squirm around, crinkling in discomfort and arousal. --Then, clicking on the next suggested video that looked, “interesting”. She sighed, rolling onto her back and summoning the nerve to touch her diaper. Much of the embarrassment she possessed started to disappear when she started to push the thick wet padding against her clit; quickly and repeatedly palming the softness into her privates, she began to pant softly to herself. The sensation differed immensely from direct stimulation, the pressure was just strong enough for her to derive any pleasure from it--and it was already beginning to drive her crazy. She could tell she was going to be in for a long ride, especially if she wanted to finish; the way the diaper felt between the sticky cleft of her cunt was extremely teasy. As she humped her hand, she started to feel irrevocably raunchy and dirty. This was a huge turn on to her, so she embraced the feeling and silently began to degrade herself. She was humping her hand in a wet, pee-filled diaper--how much more pathetic could she get? Reveling in the fact she smelled just like a baby excited her; she was just a big baby girl in a pee-pee diaper. The scent of her padding wafted up to her as she continuously pushed the diaper against herself--she predominantly reeked of lavender baby powder, but she was also able to catch a light whiff of urine. It deeply surprised her how excited she was able to make herself just by pressing on her diaper; however, she wanted more. She loved how needy and pathetic she was being, and she wanted to bring herself closer to orgasm--because she was nowhere near it yet. She grabbed her squishmallow stuffed animal from the back of her headboard and started to straddle it; she began to hump at it feverishly, whimpering in desperation. Ultimately, she tossed it off of the bed, finding it too soft to provide the pressure she needed. She was in such a gross headspace and it aroused her to no end--what type of adult would go as far to hump a stuffed animal to masturbate? What rational person would be that needy? She snatched the giant rabbit stuffed animal from her side, preparing to give it the same treatment. Rolling and thrusting her hips down on the bunny, she panted in frustration and pleasure. It felt good..but not really good enough. Thinking, she looked around, trying to find something that’d be guaranteed to send her over the edge. Thankfully, she thought of the small dildo--it was hidden within her nightstand. She hastily flung open the drawer to pull it out. However, she hesitated to slip it inside of her diaper. How would it work? Would it fit in her diaper..and stay in? She decided there was only one way to find out. She carefully pulled the waistband away from her tummy, slipping the dildo down inside her padding. In preparation, she shifted her thighs in order to dislodge her sticky lips from the interior of the diaper; having made room for the phallic intruder, she guided the head of it into her wet entrance. It always surprised her how wet she got, only watching porn--not even having to really touch herself, but in this case, she’d helped herself along by humping everything like a sex-crazed animal. Hissing, she slid the dildo into her cunt up to the hilt. She wiggled around, panting and feeling full; she realized that the diaper was surprisingly helpful, as it kept the dildo snugly in place, and deep inside of her. Whimpering, she flopped down on her tummy, moving her hand to the front of her diaper once more. Having had enough of teasing herself, she also brought up one of her favorite lewd videos to watch (that was guaranteed to make her cum.) For her, this video consisted of another raunchy fetish she possessed: creampies. Though, they couldn’t be just any normal internal cumshots; she loved seeing a throbbing dick, deep inside of a woman--helplessly filling her with copious amounts of slimy seed. It made her feel gross, it made her feel dirty, and it was easy to imagine (especially when she had something deep inside her, nuzzled against her cervix.) So, with the dildo inside her secured by her diaper, she began furiously rubbing her padded clit in circles while watching the video. She could clearly feel her juices leaking out around the dildo within her diaper, too sticky to be completely absorbed by its interior. While she rubbed, she continued to lightly hump at her hand, feeling absolutely filthy. The odd combination of her watching something so...mature, while masturbating in her used diaper confirmed for her how much of slut she really was. Because she was so used to the muted pleasure rubbing through her diaper provided her with, her orgasm snuck up on her very suddenly. Surprised, she began to feel the ticklish build up of sensation and was overcome with a sense of urgency. She was now moaning in hushed tones, still rubbing her diapered clit, and starting to clench uncontrollably around the dildo. When her orgasm hit her full force, she whimpered uncontrollably, trembling and gasping. In her orgasmic state, her lewd words tumbled out of her mouth without hesitation-- Calling herself a slut, she softly announced that she was cumming in her diaper--following that admission, she let out a torrent of fucks, all while deeming herself a big diaper baby. Her orgasm lasted for sometime, due to the unintentional teasing her padding provided her with. When she finally calmed down, she was left twitching and exhausted. She slowly sat up and began to retrieve the dildo from her diaper--it was no surprise that it was soaked. Gently toweling it off, she hid it back in the drawer of her nightstand. In a state of disbelief, she thought about how good it felt to finally commit the taboo act; she could only imagine what she was in for when her Hitachi arrived. After wetting her diaper once more, she slid her crinkly tush under the sheets and drifted off into a satisfied sleep.

Maggie's Diner by Fulldiaper Michael Copyright 2019, All rights reserved. Any resemblance to any persons living or deceased is purely coincidental. Chapter 1 Maggie is a 55 year old diner owner that had been running the local diner for nearly 20 years. She had about the best darned biscuits and gravy for a hundred miles. She also is a bit of a flirt, and quite touchy feely with patrons. She is a tall woman with DD breasts, and a firm derriere and long brown hair. She is over six-feet tall and very assertive- aggressive with the men, and will put a woman in her place in a New York minute. I met Maggie when she decided to computerize her restaurant, and sought me out for that purchase. She and I met on numerous occasions. Each time we flirted with each other, and hit it off, so I asked her out to dinner, and a movie, which she accepted. I picked a nice place in the city, and the was a chick-flick for her. We attended the movie, and on the way out she put her hand in my back pocket, and grabbed my ass. This took me completely by surprise, as I was wearing an adult diaper under my jeans. I felt her squeeze, and then squeeze again, and she asked me, "does baby need a change?" To which I replied, "Excuse me?" She said, "I know you're wearing a diaper. Now the thing is, is it for medical purposes, or sexual?" I told her, "I enjoyed wearing them, and it made me feel confident that I was well protected in public situations where I might need to use a public restroom. Which I didn't particularly care for, for a number of reasons. Cleanliness, and germs were high on my list of why I avoided public bathrooms. Maggie said, "Well, do you need changing, or are you a big boy?" She was pushing all my sexual buttons, and causing me quite the discomfort in my diaper. The whole time during this conversation her hand never exited my pants pocket or ceased squeezing my padded butt. She attempted to pat my butt, but she had to remove her hand from my pocket, and then she groped the front of my jeans, and asked, "Are you wet?" I said, "I don't think so." She said, "Are you happy that I'm groping you are is that a pickle in your pocket?" I blushed and she said, "It was cute." We got in the car and drove the dinner reservation. The whole time I was preoccupied with our previous conversation, and Maggie noticed me constantly adjusting myself to stop a painful erection. As I was driving, again I felt her hand on my crotch and this time she started rubbing me. I told her I was about to cum, and she that's the idea. Maybe then I would stop squirming in my seat. I climaxed so hard I almost lost control of the car. Maggie laughed and said, "Does my baby feel better now?" Panting and breathing heavily I mouthed, "Yes Ma'am...really better. Thank you, but how ever will I repay you?" Maggie said, "We'll find away, I'm sure." We pulled into the restaurant and I exited the vehicle, then opened Maggie's door. As she passed me, she gently patted my butt and said, "Let'said go diaper boy." I semi-waddled in front of her as she continued patting my butt right up to the reservation desk, where she told the young woman, "May we have a private booth for my baby and myself?" I'm not too sure if the young woman thought it was a term of endearment, or something else, but I played it cool, though inside I was screaming, "WHAT?" Maggie ordered for both of us taking charge of me as if I was her submissive baby slave. Frankly I was enjoying it, and she knew it. The receptionist showed us to a booth with curtains and in a secluded corner. Maggie said, "Pants diaper boy?" I said, "Excuse me, Ma'am?" She said, "Take your pants off, I need to check your diaper." Slowly, and apparently too slow for her, she grabbed my belt and pants, unzipped them and dropped them to my ankles. She gropped my freshly soaked diaper full of the cum she perfected me to ejaculate into my diaper and pronounced, "You're wet baby boy. Do you have another diaper?" I confessed I did not, and she said, "We'll have to stop and get you some." I was stunned and then the waitress came in to deliver our food as I stood there diaper clad. She blushed probably as much as I did, but Maggie didn'taking skip a beat and said, "Put the baby's food over there, and mine here." To which the waitress replied, "Yes ma'am. Is there anything else I can get you?" Maggie said, "No, but please check back often, and Thank you." Maggie then said to me, "Sit-down, and let's eat baby boy." So I sat down and started to eat, but Maggie interrupted me and started to cut up my food in little pieces. Then she started feeding me, and saying, "Here comes the choo-choo baby, and open up for the airplane." Frankly, I have to tell you that as a closet ABDL looking for a Mommy figure for a very long time I was rapidly sinking into ABDL subspace and felt myself regressing, and falling into the baby character I was being treated like. It didn't matter that we were in a public eating establishment surrounded by other people, and the staff. I wanted more, and I think Maggie did too. Maggie said, "Do you just cum in your diapers, or do you wet and mess them also?" I told her, "I had played solo and done all three on many occasions, but I had yet to find a willing Mommy partner." She said, "Well you have now." Chapter 2 Dinner was delicious and Maggie and I tipped the waitress well enough that when we were leaving she asked Maggie, "Is there anything else you and your baby need, Ma'am?" To which Maggie replied, "A fresh diaper, but we're going to stop at the 24 hour drug store and remedy that." The waitress giggled. As we left Maggie again placed her hand in my back pocket, but not to see if I was wearing a diaper, but to claim me as her baby boy for all the other women in the restaurant could see. I was off the Mommy/baby market and in the care of a loving woman, Mommy, and Domme. As we were driving to the drug store Maggie explained that she never had any children due to a genital birth defect that rendered her sterile, but she always wanted to be a Mommy, and now she could be to me. The drive to the drug store took about an hour-an-half, and the whole time Maggie poured out her heart. How she never got married because she thought her husband would fault her for not being able to give him children. She didn't date for a fear of falling in love, and again not being able to have children. She cried crocodile tears the entire time. She looked into my eyes and said, "You're God sent from an angel to me, Michael." "You will never have to worry about a Mommy ever again.", she finished stating as we pulled into the parking lot. I exited my side of the vehicle and went around and opened her door, like a gentleman, though it be a diapered one, and soon to be full time diapered by my new Mommy. We entered the drugstore and Maggie loudly asked, "Where do you keep your adult diapers at?" I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole, but it didn't and the clerk, a young college co-ed said, "I'll show you, Ma'am." Then she proceeded to walk toward the back of the store with Maggie and I in tow behind. In the incontinence isle there were a very large selection of diapers, and Maggie was a kid in a candy store. The clerk asked, "What size? What type of incontinence? Was the person a bed-wetter, or urinary, or fecal incontinence?" Maggie said, "They're for this little guy." At 6' 7" tall the co-ed clerk looked at me, and looked at Maggie and didn't skip a beat stating, "What size waist does he have?" Maggie said, "What size are your diapers, baby?" I blushed and whispered, "medium, large, Ma'am." Maggie said, "Speak up baby, we can't hear you." So out of frustration I yelled, "MEDIUM, LARGE, MA'AM." Which earned a swift swat on my diapered ass and admonition from Maggie to behave, and not so poorly. The co-ed clerk introduced herself, and stated she was a college RN nurse major, and that some of the initiation rituals require the under classman pledges to wear and use diapers during Hell week. Maggie's eyes lit up and she said, "I am going to keep him in diapers forever as my baby boy. I need to know how to make him 100% diaper dependent on his Mommy?" Ellie said, "Well, baring prescriptions that would make me pee and poop like a baby, there were some OTC products, like laxatives, diuretics and butt plugs, and strap-ons." These can be used to stretch the anus and render it useless. She could also use catheters, but would have to learn how not to cause me to have UTI (urinary tract infections) or diaper rash, to which she pointed out Desitin, and Boudrous Butt Paste, or A&D all zinc based products to create a barrier so as not to allow the skin to breakdown while diapered, wetting, and messing in them. Maggie said, "So, if I'm going to keep him diapers all the time, are there different types of diapers for different circumstances, or times of the day, week, or month?" Ellie said, "Well, his daytime diapers should be absorbent, but since you'll probably be monitoring his diaper use more, they don't need to be as thick as his night time diapers, or his punishment diapers." Maggie's eyes lit up again and she said, "Punishment diapers?" Ellie said, "Yes, there are times he will attempt to assert himself as an adult male, and if you are the Dominant Mommy in the relationship, you have to knock him down a peg or two, Ma'am. This can be done by stretching his poopie hole and NOT putting him in diapers so he poops his pants at the location of your choosing. Then you scold him, say loudly, "If you're going to act like a baby and poop your pants, I'm going to treat you like one and put you back into diapers until you can keep yourself clean." "Then proceed to escort him to the gender neutral bathroom if you want to save additional embarrassment, or toward the Ladies room for additional peg knocking down lessons. After changing him you can decide to give him back his soiled pants for some dignity, or choose to waddle him out in his diapers, and shirt for a further lesson." Ellie concluded. Now Maggie didn't skip a beat and said, "How do you know all this, Ellie?" Ellie confessed she too was a Dommy Mommy and yelled for Eric. Another college age young man came out of the backroom and said, "Yeah, what do you need?" To which Ellie said, "Don't you give me attitude young man or Mommy will spank you in front of this nice couple. Now get your diapered ass over here." Eric nearly sprinted to be beside Ellie and said in a low whisper, "I'm sorry, Mommy." To which Ellie replied, "Speak up baby." Eric said louder, "I'm sorry, Mommy." Maggie had an ear-to-ear smile and said to Ellie, "Is he diapered also?" Eric blushed and Ellie said, "Well, answer this woman's question, or do I need to pull your pants down right here and show her?" Eric said, "I am diapered 24/7 and under the constant care of my Mommy Ellie." It was then that Ellie suggested some diaper training for both Eric and I after she locked the front door and put a sign on at dinner so as not to be disturbed by another potential patron. I didn't like the sound of that, and neither did Eric, but Maggie was clapping with glee at the idea. Ellie locked the door and then walked back to the incontinence isle and grabbed two four packs of Fleet enemas and Maggie and I watched as she swatted Eric's padded posterior and said, "You know where to go baby boy." Eric slowly moved toward the back of the store again and Maggie had me in tow. We arrived in the backroom and Ellie had Eric bend over some cases of something and she pulled his pants down, and his diaper then opened up one of the four packs of Fleet enema's and told Maggie, "You can do Michael right there, so you can see how." Maggie pulled me over to where Ellie had instructed her to and bent me over the boxes and pulled down my pants, and my diaper. When Ellie saw my diaper was wet she said, "Hold on, I'll be right back." She left the store room and returned with a plastic package of adult diapers. The name on the side of the bag was "Bambino". I was to learn later that these were very special diapers that Ellie as the night manager had been ordering in for the initiations at the college. They were thicker, and a lot more absorbent than the American made product she told Maggie. Ellie remove one of the diapers and I immediately saw what she was talking about being thicker. Maggie removed my wet diaper and held the Bambino up and I noticed that they didn't have tape, but Velcro. Maggie said, "This is real convenient for checking, and refastening baby's diaper." Ellie said, "Or, do what we are about to do, and them DOO for us." Both women laughed, but Eric and I did not. Maggie secured the diaper and I thought I was out of the woods as far as an enema, but I was wrong. She pulled my diaper down and I could hear her opening the package, then a pop of the cap off and then an invasion in backside and filling of fluid. Ellie said, "Be careful because some newer babies can't take more than one without emptying their bowels, especially if they haven't moved their bowels in some time." Ellie disappeared again and came back with an assortment of what I was to learn are called butt plugs. Ellie said, "These ensure baby holds the enemas, until Mommy wants him to fill his diaper." She handed a package of them to Maggie and said, "Use the blue one, I'll tell you why in just a minute." Maggie finished squeezing the rest of the contents of the enema and inserted the butt plug. Then Ellie said, "See the tip there sticking out Maggie?" To which Maggie replied, "Yes!" Ellie said, "Turn it counter-clockwise." Maggie did and I could feel more pressure on my backside now. Ellie said, "That activates and inflates the plug stretching out the baby's anus." Maggie twisted it again and I felt additional pressure, and now pain and I yelped. Maggie responded by reversing the task she just completed. Then Ellie completed Eric's punishment enemas, and yes I said, "Enema's, as in plural. To be exact all four of the bottles were emptied into Eric" and then plugged, like me. Ellie disappeared again and returned this time with HUGE vinyl pants and said, "You might want to seal him in these, so he doesn't leak." Maggie took the pants and placed so I could step into them. I had a difficult time moving as I was beginning to cramp and had an urgent need to evacuate my bowels, and it didn't matter that both these women were here. I stepped into the vinyl pants and Maggie expertly sealed my diaper inside. Then Ellie handed Maggie a small remote control and whispered something inaudible, and saw an ear-to-ear smile appear on Maggie's face. Ellie said, "OK, well I need to reopen the store." Maggie said, "Can we get the supplies delivered to my restaurant?" Ellie said, "Yes, I'll have Eric bring all the supplies you'll need. By the way, are you also going to regress him, or just keep diaper disciplined?" Maggie said, "Regressed?" Ellie said, "Yes, with bottles, pacifiers, baby-food, breastfeeding him, etc.?" Maggie said, "I hadn't thought about that, but I really like that idea. What will I need for that?" Ellie said, "I'll have my professor make some hypnosis DVD's for age regression, diaper dependence, bed-wetting, pants-wetting, pants-pooping, and wetting. Are you also going to train his little asshole so he can't hold in his poopies?" Maggie looked at me and back at Ellie and said, "Yes, send whatever I need to keep him my baby forever." By now the cramps were causing me to sweat so Maggie said, "Mommy will drive baby, to here she removed my keys from my hand and swatted my butt." I knew not to argue in my current state. I would have to pick a more opportune time to address the elephant in the room, so I exited the store and waited in vehicle for Maggie. She got in and said, "I paid for all the supplies we used tonight, and ordered a plethora of other items for us, baby." Maggie started the truck and put it in reverse. It was then she noticed the discomfort the enema was causing me. She said, "Would you like to make poopies for MOMMY, BABY?" I said, "No", but all of a sudden I felt the pressure in and on my ass removed. I could feel my control waning, and fainting away. That is when Maggie showed me the tiny remote that Ellie had given her. I put two and two together and I realized that the butt plug wasn't inflated anymore. I then felt Maggie's hand on my crotch massaging my diaper. This was distracting any concentration I had and she whispered, "Can you fill your diapers for Mommy?" I climaxed hard pumping my cum into my diaper, but I also lost all control of my bowels and filled my diaper with the butt plug, enema and excrement that was inside, was now pressing it's way into my diaper filling ever crevasse within it. Maggie said, "That's Mommy's good baby boy." To be continued...

This is a spin off of a thread about potty training. The picture is of a patent for straps to hold a child on the toilet for potty training. But as I thought about this, I had the realization of why the cuffs for the wrists (item# 11). Item# 5 is to attach the belts to the toilet and item# 10 is to hold the child by the thighs, securing them in place, but why item#11. From my early child hood late 1940s and 1950s when getting caught playing with your private parts, I was punished. Does anyone else have similar memories of getting caught?

Engaging in any sort of physical stimulation whilst diapered isn't exactly easy. Do you consider that diapers should / should not also function as chastity enforcers, to stop AB engaging in self-arousal? Whichever opinion you hold, what design attributes of diapers / waterproof pants / onesies / sleepwear do you recommend to facilitate or enforce your preference?

Hi everyone,