Regression Crisis (Mar. 15: Wonder Woman's Downfall Continues!)

[Parker Longabaugh]

OK, here we go... I hope this goes over as well as Demoted. If you're enjoying the story and you want to see more like it then don't forget to leave a comment below... and remember that Patrons can click here to vote on which characters you'd like to see in the story ($5 Patrons can vote on this poll, but future polls will be restricted to the $8 tier and up), or you can check out my blog for more stories and other cool diaper related fun.

 

Regression Crisis

 

Prologue

 

It all began so slowly and on such a small scale, most people barely even noticed it. All across Metropolis, changes were occurring in the lives of the city’s female citizens. A woman would arrived home and realize that she was wearing pigtails, in spite of the fact that she had no memory of doing her hair that way. Or open her purse and discover, to her confusion, a baby rattle or a soother, even though in most cases that hadn’t had any recent contact with young children. Or strip down in her apartment and discover that her sexy silken panties had been replaced with a pair of thick, bulky training pants-- better suited to a four year old.

But over the coming weeks, the phenomena grew increasingly bizarre, more noticeable, and more embarrassing... young women across the city found themselves suddenly redeveloping their penchant for sucking their thumbs. Some women reported developing spontaneous drooling problems, others forgot how to walk and were reduced to crawling on all fours.

But the next wave of reports were far more disturbing, beginning with doctors across Metropolis reported a sudden upsurge in bedwetting among their female patients. This was followed by a corresponding uptick in daytime wetting-- patients reported, blushingly, feeling absolutely no urge of any kind before completely dousing her pants, often at work or during classes at college. Few were surprised when the messing accidents began... withing weeks, seeing a pretty young professional woman or a cute college girl sucking her thumb and loose control of her bowels in public had become a common occurrence. By the end of the first month, sales of adult diapers in the greater Metropolis area had gone through the roof.

The government declared the situation a public health crisis... and the intrepid Lois Lane, ace reporter for one of the country’s most prominent newspapers was on the case. Her nose for news sensed more than dirty diapers-- something was going on, and Lois was determined to get the scoop on it before anyone else. She reached out to her usual sources and put the word out... she wanted info, and she was willing to pay for it.

For nearly a week, she could turn up no substantive leads... and though within Metropolis, the problem got got worse and worse, with more and more of the city’s young female population affected, the mysterious ailment didn’t seem to be extending past the city limits-- at least for the moment.

Finally, she dug up a lead; one of her informants put her into contact with a man who told her he could explain what was happening to Metropolis’ women and what the cause was. Lois immediately set up the meeting. Packing her gear, she idly wished that Superman was in town... but he’d been called into space on an urgent mission and wasn’t expected back for a few weeks yet. Lois steeled herself, throwing on her coat and locking her door on her way out. She’d done just fine before Superman came along, and she was confident she could continue to do so without his help, thank you very much.

 

“I’m afraid there’s no simple answer, Ms. Lane.”

She was vaguely familiar with the wealth industrialist John Wolfe. Of course, everyone had heard of the Silicone Valley whiz kid who had come seemingly out of nowhere in the past couple of years to become a serious contender to Lex freaking Luthor... Lois had nearly bust a gut when Wolfe set up shop in Metropolis, right in Lex’s back yard-- rumour had it ol’ chrome-dome was mighty displeased by this perceived challenge to his dominance.

But it soon became clear that Wolfe played things a little different from Luthor, maintaining a low profile... not even Lois’ insiders could dig up anything interesting on Wolfe. The consensus seemed to be that he was very driven, worked round the clock, and tended to be secretive about the projects he worked on.

Now here he was... the mysterious Mr. Wolfe, about to explain away one of the strangest public health crises the city had ever seen (which was saying something in a city that had mad scientists and alien invaders running amok on a semi-weekly basis.)

“There is a-- for lack of a better word-- conspiracy against the women of this city, Ms. Lane,” he said gravely, his voice powerful and riveting. “A diabolical, multi-pronged attack against the very foundation of the identity of every young woman in Metropolis.”

“I-- see...” Lois said, double checking to make sure her recorder was still working.

“Part of it was achieved with the use of Nanites-- employed to make changed both small and large,” he explained. Typing a string of commands into his computer, Lois turned towards a monitor that descended from the ceiling. The screen flickered to life, an image of a pretty young blonde woman in plain, white clinical garb appearing. A timecode in the corner was dated for several days before. “At first, I thought the nanites were only useful for minor cosmetic changes.”

Lois watched the screen, fascinated when the girls hair began rearranging itself. The strands floated into the air around her head, and Lois immediately found herself thinking of static electricity. She watched the hair gather itself into bunches at either side of the woman’s head. A matching set of ribbons appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and bound her golden locks into a set of adorable matching pig tails.

An impressive display... but a mere warm-up for what came next. It was almost imperceptible at first, but soon it was quite clear that there was some sort of movement beneath the woman’s pants; specifically, her backside seemed to be inflating, growing larger and rounder... so slowly not even she seemed to notice yet, but getting more obvious by them minute.

And suddenly, the changes became impossible to ignore... in seconds, the girls pants seemed to liquefy, and Lois watched in amazement as they melted off the girl’s legs, leaving them bare... and exposing her diaper to the room. The woman looked down and gasped... apparently, pampers hadn’t been part of the outfit she’d picked out that morning.

Lois watched, fascinated, horrified, and darkly amused as the woman’s t-shirt slithered down her front and back, meeting in between her thighs and becoming a onsie. It was astounding, but there it was... where a pretty, modern young woman had stood mere minutes before there now stood an overgrown toddler.

“Whoa! That was...” Lois trailed off, unable to think of anything to say.

“Merely the beginning, I assure you,” Wolfe said, typing out a series of commands.

The footage instantly cut to what seemed to be live footage of a young woman watching TV.

“Over the past few weeks,” Wolfe explained, “some of the most popular broadcasts in Metropolis have begun carrying a very unusual signal. As you can see, I’ve taken control of the camera and microphone in this young lady’s Smart TV... The signal in question is 100% subliminal-- the red light in the top corner will indicate when it begins broadcasting.”

They didn’t have to wait long... In seconds the red light ignited, and Lois, watching intently, saw the woman’s posture almost instantly become more rigid, her attention on the screen growing more engrossed by the second.

“What’s happening?” Lois asked, growing increasingly uncomfortable as she watched the woman’s expression going more blank by the second.

“She’s being subliminally imprinted,” Wolfe explained casually. “A fairly simple impression... in less time than it takes to watch a commercial break, she’ll have developed the cutest little thumb sucking habit... among other ‘adjustments.’”

He sounded almost amused, and Lois would have been worried... but almost immediately, the woman’s thumb found it’s way into her mouth and she started sucking... slowly at first, but then with increasing speed, until she was going at it like a newborn baby. Horrified, Lois watched the woman spread her legs, the crotch of her jeans growing dark and shiny as she pissed herself.

“But... I don’t understand, Mr. Wolfe... who’s causing all this?”

“Why Ms. Lane-- I would have thought it was obvious to someone of your legendary deductive abilities,” he said, his smile devilish. “I’m the one responsible.”

She started to back out of the room... but it was too late. He typed a string of commands into the console and hit enter.

A strange shiver passed over Lois’ body and the faint smell of ozone filled the air. Feeling a sudden breeze on her wrists and ankles, she looked down and gasped when she saw her cream coloured pant suit beginning to unravel.

“I thought you might like to see a first hand demonstration of what my nanites can do, Ms. Lane,” Wolfe said, trying not to smile as the ace reported stood and making little squeaks and squeals of outrage, helpless to do anything but watch her clothing liquefy and run off her body and evaporate into nothing.

Lois gasped, amazed and horrified. What remained of her outfit continued to shimmer and morph. The collar of her blouse shifted upwards, forming a cute little bonnet which perched atop her head and tied itself in a bow under her chin. What remained of her jacket, shirt, and bra formed into a bib tied around her neck with a soft ribbon, it’s fabric long enough to cover her nipples (if she didn’t raise her arms or move around too much.) Below, her panties began to expand, the seat thickening, ballooning out behind her, making her rear end look swollen. Between her legs, the material became so thick it forced her thighs apart and caused her to move with an awkward waddling gait. The remains of her belt and trousers became an adorable Hello Kitty themed diaper cover.

“Don’t you look sweet,” Mr. Wolfe said, laughing suggestively. Lois instinctively tried to cover herself with her hands, blushing when he laughed at how ridiculous she looked.

“You sicko!” She cried. “Why are you doing this?!”

“It’s because of little brats like you,” he said, his voice deep and commanding. “My theory is simple: women are nothing but overgrown toddlers... and like preschoolers, you all need constant, specialized care round the clock. The diapers, the drooling-- all of it is just a symbol of your own innate helplessness... your immaturity.”

“You can’t do this to me!” Lois harrumphed pompously. “I’m a respected member of the press! Furthermore, when Superman hears about this, he’ll-- mmuph!” She was cut off by a large pacifier being pushed into her mouth by Mr. Wolfe, who stood by grinning.

“Pardon me young lady... little girls should hush up when the grown-ups are talking. Besides, you know the so-called ‘man of steel’ is in no position to help anyone at the moment. Now, what you’ve seen this morning is merely a fraction of the tools I have at my disposal. I can turn every woman in the city into an adult baby with the push of a button... But I’m a fair man, and I don’t want to condemn half the species to the nursery because of a theory alone. And so I devised a little challenge:

“I’ve put up an impenetrable force-field around this area-- for a ten block radius, no one will be able to enter unless they possess one of these armbands.” He attached one to Lois’ wrist... she studied it for a moment, perceiving little difference between it and a futuristic digital watch.

“I’ve delivered one of these to the group of women I’ve scientifically determined to be the best among you... if they can run the gauntlet, defeat my technology, and make it to this building I’ll willingly place myself into their custody. If not,” he smirked, clearly relishing all this, “I regress the rest of the city by sundown, the east coast by the end of the week, and you can take it from there.”

“But...”

“I believe you’ve got enough for your story now, my dear,” Wolfe said, his fingers working across the keyboard.

The floor opened beneath Lois, and the diapered ace reported vanished down a hidden chute with a little shriek, the passage closing behind her.

Mr. Wolfe returned to his console... he had much to prepare for the next phase of his project.

What characters should be in the story? (Pick your top three)

Batgirl

Black Canary

Catwoman

Harley Quinn

Hawkgirl

Poison Ivy

Supergirl

Wonder Woman

Zatanna

Click here to vote now

 

 

[CDfm]

That was an interesting start. I guess I am looking forward to seeing Superman getting back. Can the women hang onto their adult minds until then or will they surrender and fully regress? 

[Parker Longabaugh]

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all have a safe and happy 2019!

As always, thanks to everyone who's left comments etc. thus far-- please keep them coming if you're enjoying the story. If you pledge $8 or more on Patreon, click here to take the poll and help determine what happens next in the story. You can also follow the story on my blog and DeviantArt.

This part is still largely set-up, but don't worry... the action will start heating up in the next instalment.

Diana of Themyscira, Princess of the Amazons and better known to the world at large as Wonder Woman, felt something unfamiliar as she stepped, naked and perfect as a painting, from the shower and made her way to her quarters. A sensation of anxiety she had only experienced a few previous times over the course of her career nagged at her throughout her daily exercises and as she suited up, donning her armour and weapons for the battle ahead.

It wasn’t herself she was concerned about... She was more than confident in her ability to handle most anything that came her way. She’d earned her way to the top, and there was a reason she was one of the top three most recognized heroes in the world... and the world’s most recognized heroine on top of that.

Nor was it specifically the concept of leadership that was worrying her: she wasn’t quite as experienced at leading as some other heroes she knew, but it was a role she’d become more confident in over time. Further, from the moment she’d heard about John Wolfe and his insane scheme, she knew it would only be a matter of time before she received her invitation... in fact, after hearing all about Wolfe and his statements on women and their “real place in the world,” she’d been aching to get a crack at him.

It was the team itself Diana found herself concerned about. Not everyone: Batgirl was rock solid, obviously, having years of experience working closely with the world’s greatest detective... Diana was sure Barbara’s deductive skills would come in handy. She similarly had no worries about Zatanna, one of the most powerful magic users in the world, trained by her equally powerful father. Diana was almost surprised Wolfe would have the guts to bring her into this... did he have something up his sleeve?

As for Supergirl, Diana had worked with her enough at this point to know that she was dependable, in spite of her youth... and besides, Kara had been working with Clark for months now, honing her powers and abilities. If anything, maybe she was a bit too eager to please, always looking for a way to prove herself... especially to Diana.

But then there was the matter of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, the maniac better known as Harley Quinn... an unpredictable wild card if ever there was one! Of course Bruce had vouched for her, assuring Diana that she was more than capable... but if it had been up to the Amazonian Princess, The Joker’s former paramour would get left behind. However, Wolfe had made the rules of the game very clear. He’d distributed his ‘invitations’ very carefully, and he’d made it clear that unless everyone participated, he’d begin the process of turning every young woman on the east coast into an Adult Baby... a prospect that made Diana’s blood boil.

Speaking of invitations, she thought, reaching into the strange box that had arrived at Justice League HQ for her, addressed from Wolfe Industries. She removed the strange silver band-- the one that would allow her to pass through the energy barrier that had been erected around a large chunk of an upscale Metropolis neighbourhood-- and snapped it into place around her bicep. The band was thin and light, and it almost seemed to be a useless piece of jewellery... but the Amazonian Princess was sure her ultra sensitive skin detected a very minute, vibrating pulse emanating from it at regular intervals.

Dressed and armed for battle, Diana took a deep breath and went out to do battle once more for the people of the planet.

 

“We’ve got an incoming transmission, Diana,” Supergirl informed her. Bruce had kindly lent them a plane and a pilot, and the team had been waiting for a final message from Wolfe, where he would explain the rules of their sick game.

“Thanks, Supergirl... But you’d better get used to calling me by my codename in the field.”

“Yes Wonder Woman,” Kara said, eager to please.

A series of exaggerated smooching noises drew Kara’s scowling attention towards the giggling Harley Quinn, who was puckering up for her best impression of Supergirl kissing Wonder Woman’s butt. “I think ya got something on the end of your nose, Blondie!” she brayed, laughing at her own jokes as usual.

“At least I didn’t waste the best years of my life kissing up to a psychopath,” Kara returned coldly, rising from her seat in front of the computer so Wonder Woman could talk to Wolfe.

Harley fumed inwardly, but she’d always lived by the credo of ‘don’t get mad, get even.’ With this in mind and an evil little grin on her face, she reached into her jacket and removed one of her self-inflating whoopee cushions. She watched Supergirl start to sit, staring at her bloomer clad bum, just barely visible under her short skirt, waiting for the right moment to slip the cushion under her tight, round butt...

A loud, rubbery farting noise emerged from beneath Kara’s rump, reverberating off the metal walls and drawing every eye in the airplane towards her. Instantly, her cheeks went as red as her cape. She reached disdainfully under her perky tush and pulled out the whoopee cushion, fuming-- and she didn’t have to look far for a target for her ire... Harley was practically rolling around on the floor with laughter.

“Phew-wee! Blondie let loose a ripper!” she howled, determined to carry her joke to the end. “We’re lucky she didn’t blow us out of the sky, girls!”

Shame faced and blushing, Kara was determined to get the obnoxious Harley back, and it didn’t take long for an idea to form. Deploying her heat vision, her eyes flared slightly red. She’d been practising using it with Clark for months now, experimenting with temperature control and learning to use reflective surfaces to bank and angle her shots. She put this knowledge to use now, angling a beam of pure heat off a nearby coffee pot, sending it directly into the seat below Harley’s leather-clad butt. The beam’s intensity was so low, Harley actually continued her laughing and joking for a few more moments before the heat began to rise.

“Seriously, I thought she was going to blast off!” Harley said between chortles, wiping away an imaginary tear. “Someone better crack a window on this crate before we all suffocaaaAAAAIII!”

The metal beneath her chair was suddenly searing hot, and Harley lept to her feet, beginning a frantic and hilarious war dance, hopping from foot to foot and rubbing her searing backside. “My biscuits are burning!” She whooped, hamming it up for laughs that weren’t coming (except from Supergirl, proud of her handiwork, and Batgirl, who had endured Harley’s annoying pranks and pratfalls for years.)

“Quiet, all of you!” Diana thundered, irritated by the unprofessional behaviour of her teammates. Was she the only one taking this seriously?

When her words didn’t bring order, she turned to the sleek, beautiful Zatanna, who watched the proceedings with board disapproval. No words were passed between them, but Zatanna knew exactly what Diana wanted, and she gave the warrior princess a nod of understanding, and she took and breath, clearing her mind and readying her magic:

“Pu tuhs dna nwod tis yelraH,” she intoned in her eerie, echoing voice, the backwards syllables sounding utterly alien. Almost instantly, Harley slammed her rounded rump back into the seat (which, though it had cooled, was still uncomfortably hot, especially against an already roasted bottom.) Clenching her jaw shut to prevent herself from making another sound, Harley reflected that her buns hadn’t been this toasty since the last time she found herself across Mr. J’s lap!

“Thank you, Zatanna,” Diana said, turning towards the monitor and answering the call, frowning when Wolfe’s smiling face appeared onscreen... she could tell just by looking at him that he was having impure thoughts about her.

“Hello my dear,” he said cordially, his voice warm and oily. “You’re looking very cute today.”

“Wolfe,” she responded curtly, bristling at his condescension. “Are you going to explain this ridiculous game of yours or not?”

“Temper temper, dear,” he smiled. “I’ll have you all back in diapers before you know it,” he assured her, his confidence both irritating and worrying.

“Are you going to explain yourself or simply annoy us into submission?” The Amazon Princess said archly, trying not to let him get under her skin.

“It’s simplicity itself, sweetie: As team leader, you make decisions about where to move your team and how to utilize them... for every ‘move’ you make, I will make a countermove. If you can make it to the lobby of my building, I’ll place myself in your custody willingly... however, if I’m able to regress every member of your team before that, I will proceed with my ultimate goals of regression the entire female half of the human race.”

“You’re depraved,” Diana spat, sickened.

Wolfe simply smiled in response. “We’re going to have to have a chat about your attitude, dear.”

The craft touched down smoothly just beyond Wolfe’s energy curtain, it’s beautiful passengers disembarking. The energy veil shimmered lightly in the air before them, hardly visible... but it was most definitely there and performing it’s function, as evidence by the car that had apparently been cut in half when it came down so suddenly. Wonder Woman could see no traffic of any kind going in or out, suggesting that the barricade was effective.

“Did everyone remember their arm-bands?” she asked, looking back over her troops.

“Alright,” she said when she received no negative responses, “let’s go ladies.” With a determined expression, she lead them towards the barrier, already planning her first move.

What should Wonder Woman’s first move be?

Send Supergirl to scout the area by air

Have Zatana try to teleport them directly to Wolfe’s headquarters.

Click here to vote now!

[Parker Longabaugh]

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If you want to read Zatanna's dialogue the right way around, copy and paste it here.

 

“Oh my God.” Supergirl exclaimed, walking down the street in a state of awe and horror. Across the barrier, it was like a different world. Everywhere they looked, women in their 20’s and 30’s were waddling down the street in diapers the size of beach balls or being pushed along in strollers by their husbands, boyfriends, or parents. Their outfits we’re finely tailored and better suited for the denizens of a nursery school then for any fashion conscious young woman, and Kara couldn’t help staring at the array of adorable party dresses, onesies, bonnet, booties and more in a variety of soft pastel colours.

It wasn’t just the residents that had undergone a change... seemingly over night, Wolfe industries had rolled out a line of “adult infant” products, designed to help people cope with the situation they had created... and a corresponding line of advertisements, which were now appearing on seemingly two out of every three billboards and bus stops in the neighbourhood. Wonder Woman frowned in disapproval... each advertisement featured a beautiful young woman, often in a state of undress, and seemed designed to present them in the most helpless, infantile light imaginable... Wolfe’s deranged philosophy on women on display once again, she thought grimly.

“This is...” Batgirl trailed off, watching a twenty year old toddler waddle down the street in her shorty-pant overalls at the end of a leash being held by a young man, most likely her husband. Her bulging diaper gave her an exaggerated pear shape, and as she toddled on by, sucking her soother with a cheerfully blank expression, Batgirl felt a dizzying sense of confusion... and anger. This is what Wolfe wants to do to us, she thought, fury overshadowing the vague fear she felt in the back of her mind-- after all, inviting a gaggle of superheroines was a rather large risk... Barbara was certain Wolfe wouldn’t take that kind of chance if he didn’t have something up his sleeve.

The heroines scanned the area, grimly surveying the fate that Wolfe had planned for them... for the women of the world... if they failed.

 

From his HQ, Wolfe watched events unfolding on the bank of monitors he’d had installed. On top of the numerous cameras he’d hidden around the test zone, he also had drones of various sizes that could track the action from the air. Furthermore, he could utilize any phone with Wolfe brand software to spy on almost anyone... meaning that it was simple for him to see the action from almost any angle.

He watched carefully, warm pride welling inside him when he saw how well his system was working... he watched the heroines taking in their surroundings with shock and anger, his monitors displaying every detail of his adversaries in glorious HD, his computers providing analysis of their expressions and body language.

Wonder Woman was beginning to speak... he turned up his volume, not wanting to miss what was coming next.

 

“Zatanna,” Diana said at last, her voice strong and firm. “Can you detect any interference with your abilities?”

“Everything seems to be normal,” Zatanna responded after a moment’s concentration.

“Is it possible to teleport us directly to Wolfe’s building? Could he have the capability to disrupt your abilities?”

Zatanna smiled with confidence bordering on smugness. As the daughter of one of earth’s most powerful magicians, she’d grown up around magic, immersed in it’s culture, and she’d mastered it while still a youth. It wasn’t for nothing that she was known as the Mistress of Magic, and in her estimation, technology was highly overrated. “I think that’s highly unlikely, Wonder Woman.”

Diana sighed. There was a risk, of course-- Wolfe may have found a way to interfere with Zatanna’s abilities in some way... or maybe he’d prepared for the eventuality and set a trap. It seemed unlikely that he hadn’t prepared for such an eventuality... but the sooner we can put this madness to bed, she thought, surveying their surroundings grimly, the sooner we can start getting things back to normal around here.

She gave Zatanna a determined look. “Do it.”

 

Unknown to the heroines, Wolfe was listening in to their conversation with glee. What Zatanna had said was true, of course... there was no way for him to interfere directly with her powers, even with the most advanced technology available to him...

...But what the overconfident mistress of magic had failed to anticipate was the possibility of someone taking control of the source of her powers-- her voice. Several weeks before, Wolfe had slipped one of his people onto the kitchen staff at Justice League HQ, and he had been adding something extra to Zatanna’s meals. A harmless saline solution... each one containing a minute dose of nitrites. Slowly but surely, the nanites had set up shop on her vocal cords and in the speech centers in her brain. As a result, the mighty Zatanna, one of the most powerful magic users on earth and one of the most potent weapons in Wonder Woman’s arsenal, was now, totally unbeknownst to her, completely under his control.

He watched on the monitors, Zatanna raising her hands to the sky, inhaling deeply, concentrating, readying her spell. Boy, is she in for a surprise, Wolfe thought, chuckling mischievously and entering in the words the beautiful heroine was about to speak.

 

The women gathered around the magician, watching the woman with silent respect (except Harley, who rubbed her roasted rump ruefully, still fuming over being given the hot seat treatment.) Clearing her mind, Zatanna gathered her concentration, ignoring the small pain that had developed in her head, chalking it up to stress.

Gathering her magical energies inside her, she visualized her intent, translating it into a string of words in her mind, and began to speak:

“Esaelp srepaid otni nrut sremoolb.”

She allowed herself a little smile, the oddly pleasurable tickle of energy rising from somewhere deep inside her, the magic rippling outward, making her intent a reality. Opening her eyes, she awaited the slow, blurring shift in scenery that would mark her spell activating and moving them where she wanted them to go, frowning when it never came. Instead a strange shiver ran through her body... the lovely magician felt a vague dread rising inside her-- especially when she noticed her comrades looking at her strangely.

Something was wrong, though at first she wasn’t sure what... there seemed to be something happening with her costume, it appeared to be getting... tighter somehow.

Standing nearby, Diana could only watch, first fascinated, then horrified when she noticed something seemed to be happening to the lower half of Zatanna’s costume... like her bloomers were inflating, she realized, pulsating and growing beneath her.

With a cry of anguish, Zatanna looked down in time to see her ass inflating behind her like a balloon, a familiar, plastic crinkle filling her ears, the fabric transforming before her eyes into thick, crinkly plastic. It was really happening, she realized, the bulk between her thighs increasing rapidly, until she could no longer bring her legs together... she had no idea how she could have botched the spell so badly, but the truth was undeniable... the lower half of her costume had transformed into a bulky plastic adult Pamper!

Shocked and horrified, her eyes brimming with tears, she looked to her alarmed friends, stuttering as she tried to explain herself. “I...” she began in a shaky voice.

But she cut herself off, her expression going momentarily blank as the nanites in her brain received a new order from Wolfe, which passed it along to her mouth and vocal cords:

“Eiseno a emoceb emutsoc!” she barked, the words oddly inhuman. Instantly, her costume began to move and shimmy on her body, the fishnets evaporating from her legs, her jacket melting, running together with her faux tuxedo, wriggling on her body, changing shape and colour, folding itself up between her legs and over the front of her diaper, until she was left wearing a silly pink onesie, better suited to a two year old, the pamper beneath still filling out, bulging and straining against the fabric of her new outfit, Wonder Woman watching with distaste as three rows of frills bloomed across the bulky seat. As a ridiculous cherry on top, her top hat softened and shifted, transforming itself into a matching and very frilly bonnet atop her head.

“Diana,” she managed, her voice choked, looking at Wonder Woman with desperation and humiliation written all over her face, “help... me!”

“Keep her from speaking!” Diana ordered her troops. Batgirl made a move towards Zatanna... but Wolfe was ready, nearly laughing out loud when he entered a new command into his console.

A strange, vacant look came over Zatanna’s face, and Barbara swore she saw the magician’s eyes flare with electrical energy as she began to speak:

“Aehrraid teg lrigtaB,” she intoned eerily, her body tingling with magical energy as her command was made reality.

Instantly, Barbara doubled over, gasping and clutching her abdomen. “OhmyGod!” Batgirl cried, her guts twisting painfully. Her eyes widened behind her cowl, sweat popping out on her forehead as she felt the contents of her bowels turn to liquid inside her. Instantly, her colon filled with a fetid mix of gas and semi-solid mess, with more descending at a steady pace. Instantly, everything was forgotten, and Batgirl’s entire world narrowed down to just one thought-- she had to find somewhere to relieve herself... before she messed her costume!

Reaching beneath her cape, she pressed her hand against her spandex clad booty, and clenching her buns as tightly as she could, she hobbled down the nearest alley. Her desperation had already reach critical levels, and finding a toilet was out of the question. Pushing her tights down to her knees and flipping her cape out of the way, she sat her bare butt on top of the nearest garbage can and promptly began having a huge, noisy bowel movement, her rump opening up to spatter the container below in muddy poo-poo.

But Barbara’s problems were of secondary concern to Wonder Woman, who watched with a sinking feeling as one of her most powerful assets transformed herself into an overgrown infant right before her eyes. If it wasn’t obvious before that this mission wouldn’t be easy, it certainly was now.

 

From his HQ, Wolfe watched the scene with growing amusement, cheerfully recording and uploading the footage to the eager internet audience. He made sure he had his electronic eyes on Batgirl, who was still grunting and farting out a noisy, mushy load into the trashcan below her, her face a hilarious mix of shock and humiliation... the little priss looked like she could hardly believe her dainty little hiney could made such unladylike noises!

But the main attraction, of course, was the former Mistress of Magic, who’s transformation was nearly complete-- Wolfe simply had to deliver one more command to finalize her regression and eliminate her as a threat in one fell swoop.

Smiling at his own brilliance, he typed in one final command and hit enter.

 

The women watched Zatanna’s metamorphosis in slack jawed horror. The magician snivelled and cried, tears streaming down her face. She’d been so cocky about her abilities, so damn sure they could never be turned against her. Yet here she stood, defeated, humiliated in front of a group of her peers... and the worst of it was, she’d done it all to herself.

But the worst was yet to come. Against her will, she found herself forming a thought that she was positive had been planted there from somewhere else... but that knowledge did nothing to help her fight it off.

“Help me!” she was able to cry, feeling her magic tingling throughout her body as she prepared once again to intone a magic spell that was not of her creation or intent. “For God’s sake, please someone do something!” she said, helpless tears streaming down her face, her vocal cords beginning to vibrate into action as her mouth involuntarily formed the words:

“Ybab tludA na emoceb annataZ!!!!” She screamed involuntarily, the backwards sentence breaking free of her mouth totally beyond her will. She felt the magic welling up in her body, it’s power being turned in against itself. She shuddered, the change rippling through her, altering her in ways that weren't perceptible to the naked eye, but were absolute and irrevocable. She felt herself changing, her memories fading like an old photo, hordes of hard earned knowledge simply evaporating from her brain. She wailed and cried, her face wet with tears, even as the source of her upset became dimmer with every passing moment, her mind rapidly emptying itself of all the information she’d gathered since the age of two.

Soon, the adult portions of her mind had been utterly erased... including the ability to speak that she needed to fix it. It didn’t matter, anyway-- in seconds, the spell had done it’s work, leaving the mighty, magical Zatanna standing, weeping uncontrollably, her mind emptied, her diaper bulging against the soft, tight material of her onesie... just like a real baby.

Her sexy, womanly body providing a stark contrast to the babyish onesie with it’s positively infantile diaper bulging beneath it, Zatanna threw her head back and wailed helplessly, tears streaming down her face. Her friends looked on in horror, powerless to help her, for all their mighty strength, as she pissed herself with a loud hissing.

What should Wonder Woman do next?

Continue towards Wolfe’s HQ

Buy supplies for Zatana

Send Harley to check on Batgirl

Click here to vote now!

[CDfm]

I liked the new additions. I really think she needs to continue to try and recon. She needs to regroup right now though and get back out of the hot zone. I think her best bet is to go underground. The dome seems to be like a glass bowl over that part of the city. I don’t think it extends underground or it wouldn’t have cut the car in half when it was put in place. If they access his headquarters from under him he won’t see it coming and he won’t be able to spring any traps before they can get him. Glad I could give it a like and I am looking forward to reading more. 

[Parker Longabaugh]

On 1/15/2019 at 7:45 AM, CDfm said:

I liked the new additions. I really think she needs to continue to try and recon. She needs to regroup right now though and get back out of the hot zone. I think her best bet is to go underground. The dome seems to be like a glass bowl over that part of the city. I don’t think it extends underground or it wouldn’t have cut the car in half when it was put in place. If they access his headquarters from under him he won’t see it coming and he won’t be able to spring any traps before they can get him. Glad I could give it a like and I am looking forward to reading more. 

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

[Parker Longabaugh]

As always, if you pledge $8 on Patreon or more, don't forget to click here to vote in the poll and help determine where the story goes next.

I just wanted to say first of all that I’m sorry to anyone who was put off by the last instalment. I think maybe I got a little carried away and it wound up coming across a little too dark. I think my approach to this story was a bit off, so I’m going to be changing things a little bit in future instalments. I also know it seems a lot like another mechanical nursery story at the moment, but I promise there’s going to be more human contact in the future.

The other thing I want to address: people keep asking about Wonder Woman (highlight this section to read it though I have tried to avoid spoilers):

Diana is kind of the centrepiece of the story, and in a way it’s ultimately about her running the gauntlet... and Wolfe trying to chip away at her a bit at a time. So you’re going to have to wait a bit but the payoff will (hopefully) be worth it.

Wonder Woman watched, her stoic expression hiding the sick sense of horror and revulsion she felt as the once powerful Zatanna pissed into her diapers noisily, the stream striking the fabric with a loud pittering. The magician’s thumb was in her mouth, muffling her wails... but the tears still streamed down her cheeks, even as her bladder finally spurted to a stop, and she stomped her feet and pumped her free hand in the air beside her... just like a fussy toddler, Diana thought grimly. Apparently, whatever had affected Zatanna had done more than simply transform her wardrobe... her mannerisms, her body language... none of it matched up with the person Diana had known and fought beside for years.

Her theory was proven correct when, moments later, Zatanna lost her balance and toppled backwards heavily onto her plushly padded posterior, blinking once or twice, shocked, before she started crying even harder. Fixing her huge, wet eyes on Diana, she reached out towards her imploringly, flexing her fingers open and closed to signal that she needed comfort.

“Mama!” She cried tearfully, “Me fall on my bottom!” she whined pitifully before collapsing into incoherent tears.

Diana didn’t hesitate. Her maternal instinct kicked in almost immediately, and she bent down without hesitation, scooping the disgraced former superheroine up under her arms and pulling her in for a hug, which Zatanna returned with gusto, wrapping her arms and legs around Diana tightly. She pulled the Adult Toddler in close, her diapered bum squishing wetly against Diana’s hand, and whispered soothingly in her ear. Within minutes of entering the zone her team was in utter disarray, and though she wanted to provide comfort to her distressed friend, the mission was more important... she had to get things back on track.

“Supergirl,” she said, keeping her voice calm and level. The girl, still barely out of her teens, looked a little shell-shocked, and Diana knew she had to get her back in the game before she froze up. “Take up a position on the rooftop and watch for trouble.”

“R-right,” the young Kryptonian replied, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. Diana watched her rise majestically into the air and settle on the roof above, scanning the city with her bright blue eyes, grimly searching for signs of trouble.

That left poor Barbara... and there was only one person left to check on her. Diana didn’t trust Harley at the best of times, and she and Batgirl obviously had a... contentious history. But with her own hands full, quite literally, with the crying Zatanna, there was nobody else to do the job.

“Harley... go check on Batgirl, please,” she said seriously, frowning when she saw the clown’s manic smile.

“It would be my pleasure... Wonder Woman!”

 

Perched atop her trashcan, purple tights around her ankles, wracked by round after round of alternating cramps and noisy, farty diarrhea, the miserable Batgirl realized she couldn’t remember ever being so humiliated before, and certainly not on duty. She’d always tried to bring an air of grace and dignity to her role as Batgirl.

A powerful cramp twisted her guts, and Barbara let out an anguished grunt, her cheeks reddening, a mushy gush from her rear end spattering the trashcan below with a load of gassy poop. She’d never felt less graceful and dignified in her life. God... if I can just get through this without getting spotted by some gawker with a smartphone, she thought, noisily dumping out another brown spatter, I’ll be so grateful, I’ll--

“Hey Bat-brat! Say ‘cheese!’”

“Huh?” Barbara said stupidly, turning her head just in time to see Harley standing there with her phone, laughing as she filmed the superheroine’s humiliation.

“Eeekk!” She screamed, covering her face and turning away, though the damage was already done. “Put it away!” she cried, her agitation stirring up her bowels again and causing another diarrhea detonation, the squishy farts amplified by the can.

“That garbage can will be available on Ebay within the hour, ladies and gentlemen,” Harley laughed, zooming in on Batgirl’s blushing face.

“Harley, get out of here!” Batgirl screeched, pounding her fists into her bare thighs and drumming her heels against the side of the can. “Can’t I have a little privacy?!”

“No way, sweet cheeks,” Harley said, pretending to lower her camera (but secretly sneaking shots of Batgirl’s neatly trimmed pussy.) “Wonder Babe told me to help you with your bat-diarrhea... I’d hate to disobey an order,” Harley said, smiling malevolently.

“Could you-- uuhhhh...” Batgirl cut herself off with a groan, her bowel cramping again, colon filling with gas and mush once more. The pressure built rapidly, quickly becoming uncontrollable, and Barbara blushed behind her mask as she released another muddy butt-blast. “Could you at least find me something to wipe with?”

“I’m on the case!” Harley replied. Strutting boldly onto the street, she proceeded to announce to the world:

“Attention citizens! We’ve got a superheroine in severe intestinal distress over here!” She called in her loud, squawking voice. “That’s right ladies and gentlemen: it’s a diarrhea emergency that threatens to stinkify the whole neighbourhood! The Justice League officially requests your assistance.”

“Oh God!” Barbara groaned, hiding her face. She just preyed nobody could see her where she was sitting.

“What about you, ma’am?” Harley asked a matronly looking woman in her 40’s pushing her college age daughter down the street in an oversized stroller. “Can we count on you to do your civic duty?”

“Oh... Well, I suppose,” the woman stammered, allowing Harley to lead her and her daughter into the alley.

“Why me?” Batgirl uttered in a shaky voice, hiding her face when she saw the newcomers approaching.

“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” Harley asked the woman, who couldn’t help staring at Batgirl with a suppressed smirk.

“Helen Crenshaw,” the woman said, “and this is my daughter June.” She gestured to the girl in the stroller, who gurgled in response to hearing her name. A pretty, pixieish girl of about college age, she sucked her soother and regarded Barbara’s situation with a giggle, her chin wet with drool.

“Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked, politely suppressing a smile.

“I... I...” Batgirl stammered, wonder exactly how she could ever explain the situation.

“Our friend cast a diarrhea spell on her,” Harley explained casually to the confused, and increasingly amused Helen Crenshaw. “Do you have anything we can use to wipe her Bat-Butt?”

“Harley!” Batgirl barked, infuriated with Harley’s constant attempts at embarrassing her.

“Hey, do you want help or not?” Harley asked pointedly. “Besides, that’s what happened, right?”

Barbara opened her mouth to respond... but before she could, her bowels answered for her, a twisting cramp producing an uncontrollable mess pushed out by an embarrassing fart, the spattering noise amplified by the makeshift, aluminum toilet.

“Oh my! Well, you can use these baby-wipes!” Helen chirped cheerfully, producing a container of Wolfe brand Adult Baby wipes, the label on the front displaying a pretty adult model sucking her soother during a diaper change.

“You done yet, Bats?” Harley said, accepting the container.

“I-- I think so,” Barbara replied, unsure if she was or not, but little caring at this point. She could re-locate to an actual bathroom later, if need be... she had to get out of this embarrassing situation immediately.

She reached for the container, watching in confusion when Harley instead drew a cloth from it and looked at her expectantly.

“NO WAY!” Batgirl said firmly when she realized what Harley wanted.

“Come on, Bats,” Harley said, taking the superheroine by the arm and pulling her to her feet, her tights still around her knees, bare ass and pussy on full display. Barbara reached down and covered herself bashfully, but Harley just gestured.

“Turn around, baby-cakes,” she commanded firmly. Batgirl’s mouth fell open, and she looked to Mrs. Crenshaw and June for support. But they just looked at her expectantly, and after an angry sigh, Barbara turned and bent over to present her bottom to Harley.

“I’m sorry,” Harley said, grinning at the sight of Batgirl’s plump derriere. She’d had a little crush on the heroine for a while now, and having this kind of power over her was making Harley’s heart pound in her chest. “Could you stick your butt out just a little more, dear?”

Nostrils flaring, Batgirl sucked in an angry breath and reluctantly complied with Harley’s demand, arching her back and sticking her very dirty backside out towards the smiling she-clown.

“Thank you!” Harley chirped cheerfully, pressing the cold wet-wipe between Batgirl’s buns and giving her messy crack a long, slow wipe, smiling when she gave a surprised squeak in response. “Yikes!” Said Harley, looking at the thick brown smear she’d accumulated on the cloth. Discarding it into the trash, she quickly drew another and gave Barbara’s backside another long, slow wipe, grinning when she shivered in response, the pale pink flesh of her buttocks breaking out into goose pimples.

Harley remembered the times when Batgirl had the advantage over her... the number of time’s she been tied up or cuffed and marched into the police like a naughty little girl. Now the shoe was on the other foot in a most delightful way, and Harley took her time, wiping Barbara’s messy hiney, relishing the power she had over her.

Finally, she was finished, and Harley cleaned her hands of with a couple of wipes while the shamefaced Batgirl reached to tug up her tights.

“Excuse me?” They both turned towards Mrs. Crenshaw, who was holding up one of June’s bulky adult diapers, unfolded and just waiting for some girl’s bottom. “Would you like to borrow this? Just in case I mean.”

Batgirl shook her head emphatically. “No...”

“Yes!” Harley cried, yanking the crinkly plastic garment from Mrs. Crenshaw and walking towards Batgirl with an evil grin.

“Whoa... no way! I’m serious Harley... get out of here!” She squealed, shuffling backwards as best she could with her tights around her knees.

But it was a simple matter for Harley to catch up with her, and almost before she knew it, Barbara found the diaper pulled up tightly between her thighs and taped up firmly around her waist.

“Harley! Stop it!” she demanded, dismayed by how much she sounded like a whiny little girl.

But it was too late. Harley had finished adjusting the bulky, colorful adult diaper and was in the process of pulling up her tights.

“Wow, no panties! You naughty girl!” she whispered with a naughty little grin.

“Harley, stop!” Batgirl cried when the cackling clown struggled to squeeze the diaper into the tights. “It won’t fit!”

But Harley insisted, and with the help of Mrs. Crenshaw, she was able to pull the tights up, barely, over Barbara’s bulging, crinkling bottom, leaving Batgirl blushing with an obvious diaper under her costume.

 

Watching the proceedings from his HQ, Wolfe was delighted with the way things were going. Time to start planning my next move, he thought, sighing, studying his monitors carefully, trying to decide who the next victim would be.

Who should Wolfe target next?

Supergirl

Harley

Batgirl

Click here to vote

 

[CDfm]

I really liked the artwork! Question, are you making those yourself? They are awesome. The chapter was good to. I still think they need to fall back, regroup, and then attack underground. I don’t have any more likes to give today or I would have gladly given it one. Hopefully with the next chapter I can. I am looking forward to reading more. 

[Parker Longabaugh]

On 1/27/2019 at 8:59 AM, CDfm said:

I really liked the artwork! Question, are you making those yourself? They are awesome. The chapter was good to. I still think they need to fall back, regroup, and then attack underground. I don’t have any more likes to give today or I would have gladly given it one. Hopefully with the next chapter I can. I am looking forward to reading more. 

No, the art isn't mine (in fact, I think the Harley pic is a cosplayer.) I thought it was important for everyone to see the costumes since some of the characters are kind of obscure (Zatanna) or have had multiple looks (for Harley, for example, I went with something that was sort of half way between the classic look and her look in the movies.) Thanks again for commenting-- hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Big thanks to everyone who's left comments so far... please keep them coming! Remember if you pledge $8 or more on Patreon you can vote in the poll and help control the outcome of the story.

Utterly humiliated, her eyes cast downward, Batgirl was eager to turn tail and get away from the overly helpful Mrs. Crenshaw, not to mention the constant teasing from Harley. She began retreating back towards the rest of the group, mortified when she realized that on top of filling the air around her with a plastic crinkle with every move she made, the diaper was so thick she was forced to waddle awkwardly.

“Oh ladies!” Barbara cringed when she heard Mrs. Crenshaw’s voice coming from behind them. She turned to see the woman holding up a huge pink diaper-bag-- one that looked large enough to service a very large baby. Her stomach went cold when she heard Mrs. Crenshaw ask: “You know, I’ve been planning on buying a new bag for June anyway... would you like to take this one? It’s fully stocked.

“Oh yeah!” Harley answered excitedly. She ran back to fetch the pink canvas bag, slinging it over her shoulder before returning to Barbara. “Thanks, Mrs. C!” She called, grasping Batgirl by the hand and leading her back to the group.

 

“Batgirl, are you alright?” Diana asked when her old friend and ally returned. She frowned, her heightened perceptions instantly noticing the bulk of the diaper beneath her costume.

“I-I’ll be fine,” Barbara replied, blushing when she saw Wonder Woman staring at her obvious diaper. She fretted and unconsciously ran her hands over the bulky seat of her pampers, as though she were trying to flatten it out beneath her tights.

They convened to talk strategy. Ideally, Diana would lead the group into the sewer, hoping to catch Wolfe unawares by attacking from below... but with Zatanna in her current condition, Diana knew that was no place for her. She ran through her options, each one worse than the last. Leaving her behind was tantamount to giving her to Wolfe, since she was sure he would have a crew dispatched to scoop her up in minutes. Taking her along was worse, both endangering her and slowing down the group-- yet Wonder Woman couldn’t shake that maternal sense that the infantilized Zatanna was safer in her care than anywhere else.

Noble sentiments, Princess, Diana thought grimly, cradling the warm bundle of the Adult Baby’s body against her own. Unfortunately, you’re placing the entire group at a disadvantage-- and a failure here is potentially a failure for women across the country... across the world.

They came up with a loose plan to stay inside and under-cover as much as possible. A decision was made to cut through a series of warehouses and factories to the north (most of them either closed or operating with a skeleton crew since the bubble had cut them off from the outside world.) Maybe they would even be able to loose whatever observation Wolfe had them under. Supergirl was dispatched to scout the area from the air while Harley checked out the interior.

 

“Are you in position?” Wolfe asked his colleague via the com-link, eagerly awaiting the next phase of his plan.

“Yes, sir... just waiting for contact.” The woman’s voice was strong and confident.

“Excellent.” He studied the beautiful, leather-clad Harley Quin on his monitors. The sassy, seductive clown had been quite bratty since the beginning of this little adventure, and John Wolfe felt it was past time to take her down a peg or two. “Fetch her for me won’t you, my dear? I’ve gone to a lot of trouble organizing this little... reunion... for her benefit. I think it’s time we got things under way, don’t you?”

“Yes sir!” she replied enthusiastically. He smiled... His colleague would deliver on her promise-- and she would probably deliver something far more uncomfortable than that to the unfortunate Dr. Quinzel!

 

“Stoopid Wonder Woman, makin’ me do all the work!”

Harley pouted, kicking a can out of her way furiously, making her way through a hole in the chain-link fence. The first building, a warehouse, wasn’t locked... not in any major way, anyway. She’d picked up more than a few tricks in her checkered career; getting the door open and taking out the alarm was a breeze for her. Wonder Woman might not like it... but at the moment, Harley simply didn’t care. As far as she was concerned, she’d been carrying most of the weight so far during this little operation, so they could just do things her way. And if Ms. Perfect doesn’t like it, Harley thought, making her way into the main shipping area, she can just kiss my curvy butt!

She smiled at the imagery... in Harley’s twisted brain, her sexuality raged out of control, and her innate sadism and masochism were constantly at war with each other. The clown went about her task, daydreaming about both forcing the beautiful amazon princess to kiss her butt... and being forced, in turn, to pucker up and kiss her well-toned hiney.

“Hey good lookin’!”

Harley nearly leapt out of her skin when she heard the strange voice. It was female, mid to late twenties, and it contained a mocking note Harley didn’t care for. She turned around and was confronted with a smugly smirking blonde, looking tough and well muscled with nothing but a black tactical vest over her bare chest. Around her waist, Harley noticed a variety of paddles dangling from her belt, each one meaner looking than the last.

“What d’ya want, G.I. Jerkoff?” Harley attempted to affect a tough personality, but this girl looked like she knew how to take care of herself. Studying the muscles in her arms, Harley concluded, with a gulp, that a Phd in psychiatry wasn’t going to cut it if this turned into a fist fight.

The blonde came closer, sizing Harley up with a smug smirk. “Mr. Wolfe wants to see you... he says he’s got something you’re going to want to see... and he told me not to take no for an answer.” Looking the increasingly nervous Harley in the eye, she flexed and said “between you and me, I hope you say no.”

“I though Big Daddy Wolfe only liked his ladies in pampers,” Harley said suspiciously.

“What can I say... we see eye to eye on the proper way to treat little brats like you!” She said, smugly, tightening her hands into fists. “Now, are you going to come quietly or...”

“What do you think?” Harley replied before the woman could even finish her question, pulling one of her guns from it’s holster and aiming it right at Blondie’s smug face...

Almost faster then her eye could register, the blonde’s hand snapped out, swatting the gun out of Harley’s hand with a casual gesture, sending it skidding across the floor and into some dark corner. The blonde reached out for her, her reflexes astonishing. Harley squeezed her eyes shut, fretting about what this woman would do if she got her hands on her.

She was surprised when the only thing she felt was a strange tugging around her waist. Opening her eyes, Harley was greeted by the sight of the woman dangling a belt from her finger... Harley instantly recognized the guns and explosives that hung off it, but she still looked down to confirm her suspicions... her belt, along with most of her weapons, had been expertly removed, and was now being flung casually across the room.

“Just you and me now, babe,” the blonde said coldly, coming towards her again. Harley knew she had to do something, so she summoned her strength and took a swing at her opponent.

After years among the criminal underworld and dozens of fights, Harley was more than able to handle herself in a confrontation... but this woman dodged her punch like a professional, bobbing out of the way of her fist and ducking out of her sight for a moment. There was a brief tugging sensation, then the blonde popped up again, grinning.

“Nice butt, sweetie,” she said with a wink.

Harley glanced down, crying out when her fears were confirmed... her pants had been pulled down to her knees so quickly she’d barely even noticed.

“EEEK!” She squealed, reaching down to cover her bare bush. Worse, her butt was still a little pink after the hot-seat she’d received earlier, making her buns look a little sunburned.

Looking up, Harley saw the woman advancing on her, smiling confidently. Wisely deciding she was out of her league on this one, Harley decided she’d be better off retreating and summoning reinforcements.

She ran off as best she could with her pants around her knees, bare butt pink and jiggling behind her. She didn’t get far before her tormentor lashed out, taking hold of one of the clown’s sexy pig-tails and halting her in place.

“Lemme go, you big bully!” Harley squealed, pants at half-mast, unable to do much else beyond shuffle along behind her tormentor. The blonde grinned smugly, triumphant, taking a seat on a nearby crate and tugging the struggling Harley over her muscular lap, practically licking her lips as she pinned her in place and patted her smooth bare rump.

“No chance, baby-cakes. I’m going to show you why they call me... The Paddler!”

What implement should The Paddler use to spank Harley?

Her hand

Wooden brush

Leather paddle

Click here to vote in the poll.

Do you want to know more about The Paddler? Let me know in the comments-- I'll post a quick profile of her if you guys are interested.

 

[Parker Longabaugh]

As promised, here's the brief, Who's Who style profile I wrote for The Paddler (soon to be a major player in this series.) Big thanks to everyone who's supported me and sent in comments thus far... please keep them coming, and keep you eyes pealed for the next instalment (where the action really starts heating up!)

 

Ava Harding always had an athletic aptitude, and started training in martial arts and gymnastics when she was still a child. By the time she graduated from high school, she was a star track athlete and wrestler, and an Olympic level martial artist. A stint in the army allowed her to further develop her skills, to the point that she was able to try out for the UFC, and she would have made it too-- if not for the scandal...

 

You see, there’s just one thing Ava likes more than fighting... spanking the bottoms of sexy young women. Her fetish had nearly gotten her into trouble in high school and in the military, and it finally did during tryouts, when she pulled off another girl’s pants during a sparring session and spanked her butt bright red in front of everyone at the gym.

 

Rejected by the organization, she dropped off the radar and decided to put everything she’d learned together, re-branding herself as a mercenary with a very unusual specialty. Harding pledges to her clients that she will spank any woman of their choice, regardless of how tough or well protected she might be... for the right price.

 

So adept at both spanking and hand-to-hand combat is she that The Paddler has created her own fighting style combining elements of both disciplines. She can strip an opponent of her pants and panties so quickly they don’t even notice, and she can deliver a warm up spanking in seconds, leaving her victim’s bottom red and stinging before the paddling even fully begins.

 

She hooked up with Wolfe about a year ago. Since then, she’s added diapering to her repertoire, and she quickly became addicted to the feeling of power and control it gives her. When she began working with Wolfe, he gave her a number of cybernetic augmentations, making her tougher and faster than ever (little does she know it also gives him a means of controlling her.)

 

At the time of this writing, Harding is known to possess advanced knowledge of Aikido, Karate, Kung Fu, Muay Thai, and Jujitsu.

 

Career Highlights

 

- In 2013, Harding targeted a popular reality TV star leaving a talk show appearance. After incapacitating her security detail, The Paddler delivered a painful spanking to the spoiled star before stealing her clothes and her car, leaving the humiliated celebrity to walk home nude with a red bottom (an image that was quickly immortalized across the internet and tabloids around the world.)

 

- At a recent concert in Miami, Harding stormed the stage during the performance of a chart-topping pop singer. In front of a screaming crowd of thousands, The Paddler was able to strip the squealing chanteuse of her skin tight shorts and roast her rump with a wooden spoon before security forced her to flee, leaving her victim sore and sobbing in front of her cheering fans (many of whom thought the spanking was part of the performance.)

 

- On assignment in Gotham City, Harding was cornered by one officer Renee Montoya, a decorated member of the GCPD. According to rumour, Harding was able to disarm Montoya, strip her of her trousers, paddle her butt, and leave her cuffed to the radiator. Once she was found by her partner, Montoya was released and forced to retreat home tearfully with a towel around her waist. (Note: Officer Montoya denies this incident occurred.)

 

- At a recent Academy Awards ceremony, Harding was able to jump the railing and spank the nominee for best actress on the red carpet before the show, her world-class tushy turning red in front of the lenses of dozens of cameras, hundreds of onlookers and millions of viewers on TV. The attack was later revealed to be ordered by the actress’ disgruntled manager. The Paddler injured three security team members during her escape.

 

- Rumours that The Paddler challenged the infamous martial-arts renegade Lady Shiva to a personal, one-on-one, “winner spanks loser” match couldn’t be corroborated... however, sources report having seen both Harding and Shiva having great difficulty sitting comfortably around the time the alleged “spanking match” was supposed to have occurred-- indication that the match ended in a stalemate? We will continue to investigate...

[Parker Longabaugh]

As I previously mentioned, I had my computer die on me at the beginning of the week... so here I am, coming to you live with a brand new laptop! Remember if you pledge $8 or more, be sure to click here to take the poll and help determine what happens next... and either way, I hope you'll tell me what you think in the comments!

“Looks like this won’t be the first spankin’ you’ve gotten recently,” Ava Harding, AKA The Paddler, said with a smile, patting Harley’s plump, pink bottom with her broad, firm hand, drawing a deep cleansing breath. She’d spanked many naughty girls over the years... but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone more deserving across her lap.

“I’ll have you know,” Harley informed her huffily, squirming desperately to escape her tormentor’s lap, “that it wasn’t a spanking, it was a Kryptonian hot-seat!” The Paddler chuckled, her patting growing firmer against Harley’s vulnerable bare rump.

“That’s what they all say,” she said, and without warning, she delivered a flurry of open palmed spanks to Harley’s already singed buns, drawing a hiss of pain from the squirming clown, who made the mistake of reaching back to try and block her butt with her palm.

Ava simply grabbed Harley’s wrist and pinned it at the small of her back, immobilizing her and leaving her backside unprotected. Harley barely had time to give a panicked glance over her shoulder before the spanking began again in earnest.

“Yyyeeeeeoooowww!” was all she could cry, The Paddler continuing the smoking warm-up with her hand. So experienced was she in the art of spanking, Ava was able to take a spankee’s height, weight, and body type (and, in the case of Harley, how tender her bottom might already be) and deliver a warm-up spanking calculated to that subjects exact needs in under a three minutes.

“OH! OW! NO!” Harley whined, the quick but brisk spanking quickly turning her tush an angry red. Kicking her legs behind her as best the tangle of her leather trousers would allow, the clown pouted and lamented her fate. She enjoyed a little spanking as much as the next girl (OK, maybe a little more than the next girl), but this chick wasn’t playing around!

“OK, baby,” Ava said soothingly, “the warm-up’s over.”

“‘Warm-up’?!” Harley cried, her butt-cheeks already red and roasting.

“I’ve got exactly what you need,” Ava said seductively, reaching down a selecting a wide, thick slab of leather attached to a sturdy handle, about 13 by three and a half inches from her belt... perfect for wielding with one hand. She pressed the smooth black surface against Harley’s smoking buttocks and simply held it there for a minute, the coolness of the leather bringing in involuntarily sigh.

“Awww... does that feel good on your hot little bottom?” The Paddler chuckled. “Not for long,” she said in a teasing voice. She tapped the paddle against Harley’s tushy softly, drawing a gulp from the squirming she-clown.

The first swat landed against Harley’s already burning red rump with a ringing KRACK, it’s broad, flat surface easily able to cover both buttocks.

“WWAAAHHOOOOWWW!” Harley shirked, the fiery sting in her tail instantly increasing to a blistering inferno. She squirmed and fought across her tormentor’s lap-- to no avail. The woman was far stronger than her, and the ease with which she was able to pin Harley in place suggested augmented strength.

“Lemme go! You bitc--- mmuummph!”

Harley’s protests were silenced by something thick and rubbery pushed into her mouth. A cross-eyed glance downward revealed what she’d been afraid of-- an oversized pacifier, complete with leather strap that was quickly buckled behind her head, had just been pushed between her lips.

She looked back over her shoulder with a scowl, mumbling curses from behind her soother. Another hard swat with the paddle cut of her curses with a muffled howl of pain, the twin domes of her ass wobbling furiously and turning a fiery scarlet behind her.

Another swat followed, and was quickly joined by another and another. Ava kept the pace slow and methodical, watching with satisfaction as Harley’s tushy went from pink to red to crimson. Harley fought and screamed, her legs kicking feebly in the air behind her, struggling to escape... but in the end, she could do little more that curse and cry and chew her pacifier, the paddle beating a slow but relentless rhythm against her rump.

The soft, round hillocks of her buttocks sizzled and throbbed behind her, and after mentally flipping through the file of everyone who’s spanked her in the past, Harley was sure she’d never had her butt walloped this hard before. The Paddler, whoever she was, definitely lived up to her moniker!

The punishment went on, seemingly without end, and Harley was on the verge of tears when Ava finally relented, setting the paddle aside and once again taking the time to pat and squeeze and rub Harley’s roasted rump. Behind the paci-gag, Harley grunted and moaned, every touch bringing conflicting sensations of relief and pain.

Looking down on her hapless captive, Ava felt the old urge stirring inside her again. She knew she had to get out of there-- the rest of Harley’s team could come knocking at any moment.. not to mention the strict instructions she’d received from Wolfe, who was eager to get his little party started.

But the longer she stared at the twin orbs of Harley’s blazing buttocks, the more distant Wolfe’s orders seemed. Screw the old man, she thought with a cocky grin, I’m gonna do what I want!

Helping Harley to her feet, The Paddler retrieved the bag containing her gear. Sucking her pacifier sullenly, Harley watched suspiciously as a thick pink blanket was spread out on the floor. Almost before she knew what was happening, Harley found her boots undone and slipped off her feet, followed quickly by her pants. Now bottomless, her buns blazing painfully behind her, she sucked her pacifier and watched nervously as The Paddler grinned, fixing her with sharp look, and pointed to the blanket’s cushy surface.

“Get your red little butt down here, missy,” Ava ordered sternly. “It’s diaper time for all bad girls!”

With a squeal, Harley took off towards the exit as quickly as she could, only to be stopped in place when her tormentor snatched her wrist with steely fingers, forcing her down onto the blanket.

Harley kicked and squealed, but The Paddler easily hoisted her legs into the air and spanked her already red and stinging booty, quickly silencing her protests.

“You sit still and do as I tell you, missy,” Ava said sternly, reaching into her bag. “Your little butt is going back into pampers... weather you want it or not!”

“NNNNAAAHHH!” Harley cried from behind her pacifier, beating her fists against the floor furiously.

But a sharp look from Ava silenced her protests, and Harley crossed her arms and huffed angrily, allowing the powerful Paddler to slip a thick diaper under her well-spanked bottom. “Now quit that pouting,” she scolded with good humour. “I know what you need,” she said, reaching into her bag and presenting a container of cool cream to her blushing victim.

Harley tried not to react, but couldn’t keep her eyes from widening. Her butt was smarting something fierce, and a little cooling relief was just what the doctor ordered. Hesitantly, Harley lifted her legs, presenting her glowing hiney to her tormentor.

With a smile, The Paddler scooped out a large glob of cold white cream. Slowly, with great care, she slathered it against the sizzling globes of the clown’s quivering rump.

Behind her soother, Harley emitted a relieved (and blatantly sexual) sigh, shivering, the cooling cream soothing the fire in her hiney. Ava worked the salve into Harley’s roasted rump, squeezing and needing her cheeks firmly.

Harley was just starting to enjoy herself when she found herself lowered to the thick padding, the diaper pulled up between her legs and fastened firmly, so fast she barely knew what was happening.

“OK sweetie... almost done,” Ava said sweetly, tucking and adjusting everything, until Harley looked like a proper baby from the waist down.

“Alright... time to take you to see the big bad Wolfe,” She said, picking up Harley and holding her against her hip, as easily as a real toddler. Gasping, Harley instinctively wrapped her arms around The Paddler’s neck, diapered bum crinkling loudly in her ears as she was carried out to the waiting car.

What should happen next?

The Paddler speeds Harley directly back to Wolfe’s HQ

Supergirl sees them and tries to help

Click here to take the poll now!

 

[Parker Longabaugh]

I have to admit-- I knew Harley was popular, but I wasn’t expecting her to take over the story in quite the way that she has. For the sake of pacing (and to punch up the action a bit) I decided to briefly check in on Wonder Woman and company before getting back to Harley’s story... I know things have been a little slow up to this point, but the action starts really picking up from here on out. If you pledge $8 or more on Patreon, don't forget to click here to vote in the poll and help decide what happens next.

Once again, thanks to everyone who's left comments and likes-- please keep them coming. Also, a new character is introduced in this chapter-- if you'd like me to post a profile like I did for the paddler, just let me know in the comments.

Cuddled up in Wonder Woman’s arms, the Adult Baby that used to be Zatanna, Mistress of Magic, dozed, resting her cheek on the Amazon Princess’ shoulder sweetly. The events of the morning had been very trying for her, and she drifted in and out of sleep, gradually adjusting to her new lot in life.

With Diana’s great strength, it was easy to support the overgrown toddler with only one arm beneath her padded rear end. Batgirl watched her comrade hefting a grown woman in a diaper casually, and Barbara couldn’t help thinking how much she looked just like a real mother handling her actual toddler.

Barbara shifted and squirmed, unconsciously tugging on the waistband of her tights and running her hands over her heavily padded tushy. The diaper was bulky, crinkly, and hot, and Barbara’s butt and pussy were starting to get really sweaty. Worse, her stomach was still bubbling uncomfortably, and she found herself farting softly every couple of minutes-- quite embarrassing, but the diaper muffled most of the noise. At least her bowels seemed to have settled down a bit... for the moment, anyway.

 

Nearby, Elizabeth-Ann Blaese, AKA Betsy Wetsy, observed the trio. They took no notice of her... and why would they? she thought with bratty self satisfaction. Even if they had seen her, all they’d see was another victim of Wolfe’s insane machinations-- just another pretty young woman transformed into an Adult Baby girl; an object of pity at best in her matching yellow bonnet and dress, her diaper (a little wet and squishy between her legs, she noticed with a blush) on full display. They would never suspect her secret until she struck... and by then, it would be too late for all of them.

All she needed now was the boss’ go ahead... She’d been waiting patiently, keeping an eye on them from a distance, mostly resisting the urge to use her powers to cause a little general mischief, but... all this waiting is getting so boring, she thought, drumming her fingers against her bare thigh and sighing. Finally, the tedium got the better of her... she just had to do something to break up the monotony. Mr. Wolfe will never know, Betsy thought to herself, reaching out with her mind and grazing Big Baby Zatanna’s bladder ever so slightly...

In Diana’s arms, the dozing Zatanna stirred a bit in her sleep, her bladder slackening, releasing a modest jet of pee into the fabric of the diaper that soaked it and turned it warm and yellow between her legs.

Although it wasn’t much, Wonder Woman, with her enhanced senses, both heard and smelled the accident immediately. Sighing lightly, she reached around with her free hand and slipped her fingers into the leg hole of Zatanna’s onesie and diaper, finding it soaked.

It wasn’t the only thing her enhanced senses detected... though Barbara’s bottom was wrapped up in a thick diaper, Diana was aware that she had been passing gas at regular intervals since she’d rejoined the group. “How’re you doing Batgirl?” she asked in an offhanded way, “do you need a diaper change yet?”

Batgirl blushed and cringed, unconsciously tugging at the hem of her tights. “W-wha-what? No, uh, no thanks, Diana,” she said self consciously, glancing around to make sure nobody had heard.

Giggling softly to herself, Betsy wiggled her fingers in Batgirls direction, nearly laughing out loud when she saw the change in the superheroine’s expression, her bladder involuntarily forcing a hot gush of pee into her pampers. She looks so cute in soggy diapers! Betsy thought with satisfaction. She turned her attention to Wonder Woman, her eyes drifting to the seat of her star-spangled bloomers.

How unfortunate, Elizabeth thought with a smile. Those won’t do anything at all to hide an accident.

Impatiently, Betsy waited for Mr. Wolfe’s call, eager to take these smug super-bitches down a few pegs.

 

“Awww... who’s the cutest, most pouty little babe?”

Ava chuckled to herself when she opened the back door of the car, revealing a very morose Harley Quinn strapped into an adult-size car seat, naked from the waist down but for her big puffy diaper. Folding her arms under her breasts, Dr. Quinzel couldn’t help sulking as she slurped on her paci-gag and turned away from The Paddler to gaze out the other window. Inside the diaper, her butt was still sizzling and throbbing from her spanking, the short-lived relief of the soothing cold cream long forgotten. Ava had really roasted her rump, and Harley knew it would be quite a while before she would be sitting comfortably again.

“Cheer up, sweet-cheeks,” The Paddler said, unbuckling Harley from the car seat before scooping her up into her arms once again, easily carrying the grown woman against her hip with one hand while slamming the door with the other. Both hands now supporting Harley under her thickly pampered butt (is she copping a feel? Harley wondered, reluctantly resting her head against the woman’s shoulder), Ava wasted no time carrying Harley into the headquarters of Wolfe International.

 

And I thought I was crazy, Harley thought, taking in the sights and sounds of Wolfe’s headquarters.

If carrying Harley caused Ava even the slightest strain, she showed absolutely no sign of it. She hefted the blushing, diapered clown with ease, navigating the hallways without any pause or hesitation.

The building itself was largely like any other major American corporation: spacious, clean, bright and friendly (in a cool, faceless kind of way.) Harley noted the usual cubical dwellers, office drones and oily executive types you probably see in your own office every day.

But one didn’t have to look closely to see that this was no ordinary office... in every direction she looked, there was at least one infantilized woman playing in a playpen or being rolled down the hallway in a stroller. They slurped on soothers and played with toys in their diapers with their puffy, plushly-padded diaper butts on display, and sat together in little clusters in large playpens set up in the corner of spacious offices and break-rooms. The scents of the nursery hung in the air everywhere they went, and even in areas thick with the traditional office smells of ink, paper, and ozone, the odour of baby powder, ointment, and the occasional messy diaper was never far away. Although there were a few women still wearing suits whoseemed to be conducting regular business (or at least Adult Babysitting), Harley estimated that around 80% of the women she saw were sporting diaper bulges.

Finally, Ava brought her into a sterile laboratory filled with monitors and computer equipment. A matching pair of what looked like dental chairs sat in the middle of the room-- Harley found herself settled in on her diapered bottom, and Ava quickly bound her to the chair with her hands above her by a set of thick leather straps around her wrists and ankles. Harley struggled in vain against her bonds... ordinarily, she didn’t mind being tied up, but she had a sinking feeling about where all this was going.

Her stomach sank even further when Wolfe entered the room, grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary... and the way he was looking at her, Harley was beginning to feel like the canary!

“Dr. Quinzel! A pleasure to finally meet you.” Glancing down at her diaper, he commented archly: “I see my colleague took it upon herself to update your wardrobe... prematurely.” He shot The Paddler a glance, and Harley nearly laughed out loud when she saw the tough-girl looking distinctly nervous.

“Uh,” Ava stammered, squirming like a schoolgirl, “y’see... what happened... that is, she--”

“We’ll discuss your-- disobedience-- later,” he said, and Harley grinned when she saw Ava break out into a blush. Her curiosity was definitely piqued, but she didn’t have time to satisfy it because moments later he dismissed The Paddler to “fetch their other guest.”

Ava obeyed, eager to turn on her heel and exit. “I hope,” he said to Harley, going over to one of the tables, “you appreciate the trouble we went to arranging this little... reunion for you.”

From the table he retrieved a headband attached to the computers by a pair of thin wires that he slipped over her crown with ease. “What are you talking about, you sick bastard?” Harley growled, struggling against the straps. “I don’t know anyone in this freak factory of yours!”

“Ah,” Wolfe said, adjusting the headband in place, “but you do sweetheart. You know someone here quite, shall we say, intimately?”

He went over to the monitors and made his adjustments, and Harley wracked her brain... who could it possibly...?

“LET ME GO!” Harley heard her even before the door opened. No, she thought to herself, sitting up as best she could to get a better look at the door, it couldn’t possibly be...

The door opened, and Harley was stunned when The Paddler returned carrying a very familiar face over her shoulder, the shock of flowing red hair a dead give away.

“IVY?!” Harley barked, horrified (and a little titillated) at the sight of her former partner in crime (and a whole lot more, she reminded herself lustily) being manhandled by the powerful Paddler.

“Harley?!” ‎Pamela ‘Poison Ivy’ Isley looked up in surprise, “What’re you doing here?”

“Me?! What’re you doing here?!” Harley watched The Paddler strip the beautiful Ivy of her flimsy costume, revealing her beautiful, naked body. Harley smirked, taking in an eyeful-- nothing she hadn’t seen before, of course, but she never could get enough of Ivy’s loveliness... in or out of costume.

Naked, the struggling Ivy was slammed into the seat next to Harley’s and strapped in. “I contracted Dr. Isley to do a little work on our... project.”

“He’s insane!” Ivy cried, struggling against the restraints. “He wanted aphrodisiacs, diuretics, airborne laxative compounds...”

“It’s true,”Wolfe said with a smile, picking up another headband. “Dr. Isley helped us develop many wonderful tools for our glorious mission.” He slipped the headband onto Ivy, making sure not to muss her hair too much as he a fixed it firmly.

“You helped this lunatic?!” Harley asked incredulously, drawing a guilty look from Ivy.

“Harley... I...”

“What she’s trying to say is that she intended to double cross me, using my equipment and money to fund her own secret project... something about using vegetable matter to dominate the biosphere or something, correct Dr. Isley?”

“Oh Ivy,” Harley said, disappointed. “Again with the plants? Girl, you gotta find yourself a new hobby...”

“Shut-up, Harley!” Ivy barked, fixing Wolfe with an icy glare. “Spit it out, Wolfe... what are you going to do to us?”

“I believe Dr. Quinzel will find this especially interesting,” he said enthusiastically. He clacked out a few commands on his keyboard. The large screen in front of them flickered to life. Harley noted the screen had been divided into two sections labelled ‘Isley’ and ‘Quinzel.’ Beneath, she saw several meters, each one handily labelled. Harley noted bars marked intelligence, continence, libido, memory, coordination, and obedience.

“With this device, I’m able to manipulate these traits,” he explained, “raising or lowering them to the appropriate age range. With this machine, your minds are lumps of clay-- to mould into any shape I see fit.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Harley said, turning to face him as best she could, diaper crinkling under her butt. She’d been a rather prominent psychiatrist in her former life, after all, and it was fairly easy to diagnose what was going on here. “The big, strong man takes the mean, scary, ladies and reaches inside our brains, reducing us to a helpless, pacified state. And once we’ve been robbed of our agency and identity as free, powerful adult women, you can lord over us in our humiliation, thus asserting your ultimate, patriarchal power over a pair of helpless, beautiful women? Is that about right?”

“Something like that,” Wolfe responded casually.

“Mmmm... that sounds kinky!” Harley smiled wickedly.

“Harley!?” Ivy uttered, shocked, unable to tell if her friend was bluffing or not... she knew the little bitch was nuts, but could she really be this crazy?

“Shut up, Red! I’m sick your bossy bitchy BS!” She looked at Wolfe, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “I’ve only got two requests, Big Daddy.”

“Oh?” Wolfe couldn’t help smiling. Like Poison Ivy, he had no idea if this was a ruse or not, but he was certainly enjoying it either way. “Such as...?”

“Don’t take me down completely,” she begged in a husky whisper, her voice dripping with anticipation. “I want to know what it feels like to be a woman forced to behave like an infant... I want to be aware of who I was-- and what I’ve lost,” she said with a flirty flicker in her eyes.

As Ivy gaped at her friend disbelievingly, Wolfe couldn’t help feeling a stirring in his loins, but he maintained a professional facade. “I think I can accommodate you... to a point, anyway. What’s your other request?”

Harley turned and looked at Ivy, her expression sexy and teasing, filling Dr. Isley with dread. “Do her first,” Harley said lustily. “I want to watch... I want to see what I’m in for. And I want to see what Miss Bossy Britches looks like crawling around in a big diaper!”

What should our next installment focus on?

Wonder Woman and Batgirl VS. Betsy Wetsy

The Regression of Harley and Ivy

Click here to vote now!

[Parker Longabaugh]

Thanks to everyone who's left comments etc. thus far...please keep them coming. If you're a member of the audience participation tier, click here to take the poll and determine the fate of our heroines.

Do you prefer calling these installments 'chapters' or 'issues?' let me know in the comments what you prefer.

It’s the waiting that’s always the hardest part, Elizabeth ‘Betsy Wetsy’ Blaese thought with a sigh. She’d taken up a place on a crowded playground in order to better blend in while she stalked her query and waited for Wolfe’s go ahead. Brilliant plan... but all these drooling Adult Toddlers were starting to get on her nerves. Like real babies, Wolfe’s regressees frequently had a hard time keeping their hands to themselves... a fact she was reminded of when the little blonde terror with the kissable red lips sitting next to her reached over and gave one of Betsy’s pigtails a savage tug.

“Cut it out, you brat!” Betsy growled, shooting an angry look at the chortling 20 year old toddler. Grumbling, she turned her attention back to the trio of superheroines. Betsy grinned as she watched Wonder Woman casually checking big baby Zatanna’s oversized pampers like a pro, hefting her infantilized superfriend against her hip like a real mommy. I wonder if she’ll manage her own diapers quite so well, Blaese thought with a smile. I can’t wait to take that smug bimbo down...

She was distracted by the chiming of her phone. Finally, she thought, reaching into the discrete pocket on the front of her dress and taking out her phone (to the dull curiosity of the baby-women around her, who watched, memories of their own once ubiquitous devices flickering, but ultimately failing to manifest within their diminished minds.)

She grinned when she saw a simple text from Wolfe’s familiar number with one simple word: engage.

How cheesy can you get? she thought with a smile, tucking the phone back into her pocket. Elizabeth was about to rise when she felt another sharp tugging at her pig tail. Furious, she shot an angry look at the stupid, drool coated face of her tormentor, once again chortling mindlessly at her wit, staring into Betsy’s eyes, dumb and challenging, waiting for her to get angry, maybe even lash out at her.

But Elizabeth didn’t get angry, didn’t raise her voice or react with violence. Instead, she simply smiled coldly into the round and ignorant face of the blonde bully, and winked knowingly.

“Bombs away baby,” she said smoothly, wriggling her fingers in her adversary's direction, projecting her intentions forward like a bolt of pure will.

For Tara Bellding, 20-going-on-2-year-old bully of the playground, the effect was immediate and absolutely without warning. One moment, she was chuckling away at her wit, squirming on her diapered bottom and congratulating herself on another successful practical joke. Seconds later, without any urge or warning of any kind, she felt her back passage open, heard herself farting noisily, grunting ever so slightly when a mushy load of hot brown poopy surged out of her bum and flowed thickly into the seat of her thick, crinkly pampers.

Tara gasped, knowing on some level she should probably try to regain control of herself, but the idea was a bad joke; even if she hadn’t had the required knowledge removed from her mind, she possessed neither the strength or the ability to stop her sphincter from opening, a huge, stinky mudpie thundering noisily into the seat of her pampers. Giggling with self satisfaction, Betsy sat back and watched, highly amused by the little grunts and squeaks Tara was making as she uncontrollably filled her pants.

The noises and smells drew instant stares and giggles from the other regressed women in the area. The regressees possessed an almost universal love of toilet humour, and soon Tara was surrounded by a ring of giggling Adult Babies, pointing and crinkling their noses in her direction.

Finally, the mess blurped to a finish. Tara sat for a moment, cloaked in a cloud of stink, her lips quivering before she burst into tears, getting up on her hands and knees, the seat of her diapers lumpy, bulging, and stained brown behind her. “Mommy! MMMMOOOMMMYYY!” she howled, melodramatic tears rolling down her cheeks, crawling for dear life towards the edge of the playground,poopy diaper wobbling behind her as she went.

Elizabeth gave a sadistic little laugh (ignoring the feeling of her bladder going slack against her will, her diaper going warm and moist beneath her) before rising to her feet and walking towards her targets with a purpose... it was time to go to work.

Wonder Woman bounced Big Baby Zatanna in her arms softly and patted her thick diaper butt soothingly. The beautiful young woman was dozing soundly in Diana’s arms, clinging to her tightly with both her arms and legs. Diana would rather she just kept sleeping, but her pampers were getting awfully soggy-- the last thing she wanted was for her friend to get a diaper rash. Diana was now faced with deciding whether or not she should change her comrade’s pampers.

Nobody said leadership would be easy, Princess, she thought with a sigh, debating the matter in her mind... never suspecting that just a few feet away, Betsy Wetsy was about to make the decision for her.

So many deserving targets, so little time, Betsy thought, getting into a position from which she could strike any of the three heroines (well, two heroines and a drooling diaper babe, she thought with a grin.) She considered starting with Wonder Britches herself-- it would demoralize them as a group, make it easier for her to take control, and besides, who didn’t want to see those tight little bloomers all packed with poop?

Ultimately, however, the image of Zatanna majorly messing her diaper in Wonder Woman’s arms was simply too tempting for her to pass up-- and what better way to announce her presence? Elizabeth was charmed by the idea of having the drop on them-- of the mighty Wonder Woman and Batgirl knowing exactly what was going to happen to them... and there not being a thing they could do about it.

With a naughty thrill, she gestured subtly, aiming a potent psionic bolt right at Zatanna’s bulky, crinkly tushy, watching gleefully, feeling the bolt make contact and...

The effect was almost instantaneous-- without any warning, a load of messy poo-poo suddenly erupted from the still sleeping Zatanna, filling the back of her diaper with a sizable fart.

She awoke in Diana’s arms with a start, emitting a surprised squeak. She was shocked to find she was in the midst of pooping her pampers, her back passage open to it’s absolute limit to accommodate the squelching, crackling mess that came thundering out of her. She gazed up at Diana, her wide eyes already brimming with tears, and tried to explain as best her regressed mind could:

“MMMAAA-MMMAAA!” the ex-sorceress howled, clinging tightly to the powerful superheroine, the stink of her load beginning to emerge. “ME MAKE BOOM-BOOM! WWWAAAAHHAAAA!”

“Oh my!” Diana exclaimed, feeling the load growing through the seat of Zatanna’s pampers. “Darling are you all right?” She asked, ever selfless and concerned, seemingly oblivious of the odour that was enveloping the area.

“Believe it or not, she’s the least of your problems, princess!”

Diana turned towards the mocking voice and was stunned to see her challenger. In her frilly dress with her big (and apparently wet) diaper bulging quite visibly beneath it, she didn’t seem to pose much of a threat to the mighty Wonder Woman or the brilliant Batgirl.

But there was something about the way she carried herself, her swaggering, arrogant manner cut through her ridiculous appearance, that made Diana wary-- Wolfe was a clever man; Diana knew he was sure to surround himself with equally formidable individuals.

“Call me... Betsy Wetsy,” Elizabeth said, her voice rich and sensuous, “and I’m here to mess up your day!”

Batgirl snorted derisively. “Betsy Wetsy? Boy, these villains are really running out of--”

“Pipe down, Brat-girl,” Betsy commanded, casually aiming a finger in her direction.

With a gasp, Barbara once again felt her bladder loosen against her will, the already soaked and soggy pamper between her legs growing dangerously saturated.

“Batgirl! Are you OK?” Wonder Woman asked, simultaneously bouncing Zatanna in her arms, trying unsuccessfully to calm her down.

“I’d start worrying about myself, if I were you,” Betsy said with a cold smile, watching as Wonder Woman settled Zatanna down on a nearby bench, the adult baby squirming and fussing when the poopy load in her pants squished under her bottom. “You’re going to look so cute with a steaming hot load in your britches!”

“Why are you helping Wolfe?” Diana asked fiercely, determined to face what came with a warriors dignity.

“I’m just levelling the playing field, honey... if I can’t keep my pants clean why should you?” she asked spitefully, pointing her finger at the Amazon Princess and preparing to strike.

“NO!” Barbara cried. She knew instinctively that Diana was a symbol of something much larger than any of them.. she couldn’t allow anything to happen to Wonder Woman... no matter what the cost!

Almost without thinking, Barbara threw herself in front of Diana moments before Elizabeth fired. Batgirl couldn’t feel the impact of the bolt, but she could feel it’s effects almost immediately. For the second time that day, she felt her buttocks parting, felt her sphincter dilate, without her consent, and felt her body forcing out a large poopy load, totally beyond her control.

She gave an anguished cry, collapsing into Diana’s arms, the diaper growing heavy and lumpy behind her. Her eyes locked on Diana’s, who instantly understood her friend’s sacrifice... she didn’t intend to let it go to waste.

After helping Barbara to her feet, Diana began to move, sprinting headlong for a nearby bus shelter. Correctly surmising that Betsy’s powers could only work if she was within the villain's direct line of sight, Diana poured on the speed in a desperate attempt to avoid falling victim the way her comrades had.

“Hold still, damn you!” Betsy roared, throwing her hands out and tossing bolts at random. Wonder Woman gritted her teeth and pumped her legs furiously, narrowly avoiding Betsy’s shots, acutely aware of the screams and curses of the innocent bystanders as Betsy’s bolts slammed into them behind her, the sounds of farty messes filling panties and urine spattering to the ground filling her ears. Behind her, women were screaming and moaning and grunting, Betsy’s errant bolts causing them to spontaneously piss and shit their panties or diapers, filling Diana with fury... this little brat needed to be taught a serious lesson!

Diana ducked behind the bus shelter.. but she didn’t remain hidden for long. Stooping, she scooped up a handful of gravel from the path. Moments later, she was on the move again-- right after hurling the handful of pebbles at Betsy’s face.

“Aaagh!” Elizabeth cried, throwing up her arms just in time to avoid a face-full of rocks. “You bloody bitch! I’m gonna make you shit your brains out!”

But Betsy had lost sight of her opponent for one crucial second... and that was all the Amazonian Princess needed to gain the advantage.

The diapered villainess spun on her heel in desperate search of her foe-- and she was just in time to see Diana tossing her brilliantly glowing lasso in her direction... and there was no way she’d have a chance to dodge.

“No!” Betsy had time to yell, feeling the rope glide over her, then cinch tightly around her waist, pinning her arms at her sides, effectively rendering her powers useless.

She wriggled and squirmed, hopping up and down ridiculously... all for naught. The lasso was pulled tight, and when she saw Wonder Woman smile in her direction, Elizabeth felt her bladder go loose inside her, the pamper between her legs going warm and wet once more.

“YEEE!” she cried sharply when Diana gave the rope a strong pull, sending Betsy hurtling through the air towards her.

Dazed and dizzy, Betsy realized she was literally in the powerful princess’ hands, her feet dangling several inches off the ground.

“You little brat!” Diana growled in her face, baring her teeth. “Your conduct is not only dishonourable... it’s absolutely childish! Someone ought to teach you a good lesson, young lady!”

The mere threat was enough to overwhelm Betsy Wetsy’s delicate bowels; without warning, she started pooping her pants uncontrollably, her diaper going lumpy and brown behind her. Diana was surprised to find herself actually smiling at this turn of events. Listening to Betsy’s diaper filling with a symphony of farts and squishes, she knew the villainess’ comeuppance was only beginning.

What should Betsy’s punishment be?

A spanking on the seat of her dirty diaper

An embarrassing public diaper change

Click here now to take the poll

[Sarah Penguin]

is fun hope heroines take him with a spanking for the ages

[Parker Longabaugh]

(Shameless plug) Click here to see a quick preview of a forthcoming art project with the amazing RWedgie! (Shameless plug)

As always, if you're a member of the Audience Participation tier on Patreon, click here to be taken to the poll and help determine what happens next in the story. If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to let me know in the comments.

 

High above the city, Supergirl inspected the streets and buildings, searching for potential routes for the group to travel. Wolfe’sforce field extended over the tops of the tallest buildings... Kara estimated it’s height at somewhere around a thousand feet, and the far side seemed to extend at least partway into the water of Hobbs Bay. Shutting her eyes briefly, she took a moment to simply enjoy the sun on her skin and the wind in her flowing, golden hair. The heat of the suns rays warmed her, and she could feel her cells filling with raw energy, providing the strength she would need when the conflict finally came.

Kara bristled when she scanned the streets, the sight of the female population reduced to snivelling, drooling, diapered idiots both horrifying and angering her. And Wolfe, she thought with a shiver, what a creep! She pictured his smiling face and tried to feel enough hate to want to smash it... she was disturbed to find herself strangely attracted to him instead.

Throwing back her shoulders, she did her best to force it from her mind, using her x-ray vision to finish her job before she reported back toWonder Woman.

 

Far below, Wolfe’s final henchwoman, Nicole Foster, AKA The Milk Maid, observed her prey through a pair of powerful binoculars, studying Kara’s fresh, sexy body hungrily. Everything was in place now... she needed only activate the weapon. Neutralizing the young Kryptonian had posed quite a challenge, of course, but Wolfe had solved the problem with his usual ingenuity. If things worked out as planned, the beautiful alien demi-goddess would be quite helpless... not to mention in need of a nice, fresh diaper. Nicole smirked, her heart thumping at the thought of wiping the lovely Supergirl’s perky young bottom before slipping the whimpering heroine into a diaper.

The mere thought of it made her nipples tingle.Nicole set aside the binoculars, yawned and stretched, her almost unnaturally large bosom heaving and thrusting, appealing in her skimpy costume, her cleavage glistening with sweat in the hot sunlight.

Nicole’s costume, a highly sexualized version of the already sexy traditional milk maid’s uniform accentuated her womanly figure... particularly her massive mammaries, which strained the stitches of her outrageously short and tight outfit. She couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and rub them firmly, thinking about the young heroine, robbed of her powers, defenceless and diapered, suckling from her breasts, her special milk leading the hapless heroine deeper and deeper into a second infancy.

She looked over at the remote control... the one that would call their special weapon into action. It was just a matter of waiting for the right moment.

 

“My my... that is a filthy diaper,” Diana exclaimed with a hearty laugh, enjoying the way Betsy’s face turned red... especially when the growing crowd of spectators began to chuckle. Many of them were victims of Betsy’s errant psionic bolts, their pants wet or messy, and they were eager to see the bratty Betsy get her just desserts.

“Let me go, you bossy bitch!” Betsy squealed, kicking her feet futilely in the air beneath her, poopy diaper squishing against her bum with every little move she made.

“Awww... is baby Betsy fussy?” Wonder Woman teased with a smile. “Huh? Is her pamper all full of poopy? Does she need a change from mommy?

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE!!” Elizabeth growled through gritted teeth. “You don’t scare me, bimbo! I’m a world class escape artist, and when I get this stupid rope off me, you’re going to be in so much trouble!”

Diana smirked... the little brat was certainly a big talker for someone tied up in a poopy diaper! The gorgeous amazon warrior couldn’t resist having a little fun with her Lasso of Truth.

“Oh, come on” Diana prompted, “are you sure you hate diapers all that much?”

“Not really,” the lasso forced Betsy to answer automatically, the words flowing out of her without thought or permission. “They’re so soft and puffy against my butt and pussy... I really love the way they rub up against me when I move.” Elizabeth’s eyes grew round with shock, her cheeks going red with every embarrassing revelation she made. She tried to stop, but she was powerless to prevent herself from blathering her secrets. “There’s just something about the way they feel between my thighs... especially when they’re wet!” she gushed, shuddering, every embarrassing revelation she made bringing her closer to tears. “Honestly, I’d probably wear them even if I wasn’t incontinent!”

By the time she’d finished, the crowd was openly laughing at her... but the worst was yet to come.

“Barbara, spread the changing mat out for me, please,” Diana said, flashing Betsy a smile that made the bratty adult baby gulp. “I think our would-be villainess needs a diaper change!”

The crowd whooped it’s approval, especially when Batgirl complied with a smile, her own thoroughly soiled pampers temporarily forgotten. She reached into the pink diaper bag Mrs. Crenshaw had given her, withdrawing the pink plastic changing mat and spreading it on the ground.

“What?!” Betsy cried, struggling to free her arms. “Hey, c’mon, you can’t do that!”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” Wonder Woman asked, laughing heartily as she deposited Betsy down on her squirming bottom atop the changing mat with a moist squish.

“EEEWWW!” the villainess cried, sitting stiffly in her own muddy mess. Though the sensation of sitting in a wet and messy diaper was hardly unfamiliar at this point, it still made the snooty Elizabeth sick to squish around in a messy diaper. “So GROSS!”

“Get comfy, brat,” Diana said, shoving Betsy down onto her back roughly, the pink mat crinkling noisily beneath her. “Time to change that diaper!”

“Nnnnooooo!” Betsy cried, her protests drown out by the laughter and cheers of the spectators. “C’mon, don’t change me here! It’s so embarrassing!”

“What about all the people you embarrassed with your naughty behaviour?” Wonder Woman asked in a patronizing tone, reaching down to take hold of the first tape of the front of Elizabeth’s diaper and ripping it open with a loud tearing sound. “Hmmm? Do you think they care about your feelings on the matter?” Diana tore open another tape, the noise enough to make Betsy jump a bit.

“Please don’t do this! Please just take me to the changing room!” Betsy whined, begging shamelessly, bristling and blushing when the crowd giggled in response to her whinging.

“Darling, you hush! You’d better settle down for your diaper change,” Diana said, fixing her with a steely glare, “or you’re going to wind up over my knee!”

Betsy gasped and bit her lip, forcing herself to remain still as the powerful superheroine tore open the remaining tabs from the front of her diaper. A nightmarish sense of vertigo rushed over her, an all consuming sense of humiliation as the front of her pampers were slowly pealed down, revealing both her pretty pink pussy, smooth and bare as could be, and the big brown mess inside to the gawking rabble.

“Ewwww!” they cried in unison, the crowd taking a collective step back as the stink wafted over them. Squeezing her eyes shut, Elizabeth blushed and fought back tears, moaning with shame. It looked like a packet of brownie mix had exploded inside her diaper, the seat loaded with thick, brown poop. Her buttocks were also smeared quite thoroughly, and the cleft between them had been filled to the top with the sticky mess.

“Oh dear,” Wonder Woman said, surveying the mess before her. “I can we’ve got our work cut out for us. Pass me the wipes please, Batgirl.”

“With pleasure Wonder Woman,” Barbara chuckled, fishing the wipes out of the bag and handing them over. Diana didn’t hesitate, taking the tearful Betsy’s ankles in one powerful hand and lifting her legs into the air. Elizabeth began to sniffle when her poopy tushy was lifted into the air, exposing it for the entire world to see. Pulling a wipe from the container, Diana went to work, slowly but firmly wiping the squirming villainess’ bottom clean. The Wolfe brand wipes were extra large and thick, designed especially for cleaning off an Adult Baby bum, and they did their job well.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a big, messy baby before,” Diana said teasingly, cleaning off Betsy’s rump with strong, powerful motions. “Phew! What are they feeding you, babykins?”

“Not a baby...” Betsy protested weakly, blushing, near tears as the gathered crowd enjoyed a good laugh at her expense. She was certainly paying an embarrassing price for her attempted villainy!

“Oh, of course not, honey,” Diana said sarcastically, working her way inward with the wet wipe, cleaning off Betsy’s plump cheeks before going to work on the crack, discarding the wipes and drawing new ones as needed. “Grown women get their dirty diapers changed by complete strangers all the time!”

The crowd chuckled appreciatively, and Betsy just blushed brightly, praying for her ordeal to end. Once finished, Diana placed the used wipes in the dirty diaper and rolled it all up into a bundle, which she discarded in a nearby bin. Barbara already had a fresh diaper ready for her, and Diana took Betsy by the ankles and lifted her butt into the air to slip the thick, plastic underpants beneath her.

The powder came next... the Amazon Princess dusted the pink domes of Betsy’s freshly wiped tushy with white powder, then patted it in firmly. Elizabeth gulped and blushed... it was just a little too close to being spanked by the powerful heroine for her comfort!

The process was repeated on her shiny bald pussy, the gathered crowd tittering and chortling at her embarrassment. Betsy almost said a prayer of thanks when the diaper was finally pulled up and sealed closed around her waist.

With the lasso still pinning her arms to her sides, Betsy allowed Diana to help her to her feet. The new diaper was even thicker than the last, pushing her thighs apart and forcing her to waddle. The crowd clapped and whooped, greatly appreciating the little show... Elizabeth wanted to crawl into a hole and die!

Diana looked at the freshly diapered Betsy Wetsy with satisfaction... but her job had just begun. Both Zatanna and Batgirl were in desperate need of their own diaper changes... and Diana knew there was just one Woman for the job!

What should we focus on next?

Wonder Woman changes Zatanna and Batgirl’s diapers

Supergirl VS. The Milk Maid

Click here to vote

[Parker Longabaugh]

Hey everyone,

Here's just a quick profile of our new villainess, Betsy Wetsy. This one is probably overdue... I know I said I was going to try and have something special for this one but it's not ready yet, so rather than wait around, I'll post this now and the surprise when it's finished. Let me know if you enjoy this little bonus, and if you'd like to see a similar profile for the Milk Maid, let me know. Speaking of which, I'm going to try and have the next part of Regression Crisis ready for the end of the week. 

Elizabeth Ann Blaese was an infamous rogue treasure hunter, plunderer of rare antiquities, and black sheep of a prominent family... until she ran afoul of the ancient genie Peemepoopyew. A deliberately misinterpreted wish gifted Elizabeth with the power to control the bodily functions of other women... but in a cruelly ironic twist, left her unable to control her own bladder and bowels. Forced to wear diapers, she used the vast fortune she’d accumulated to travel the world seeking a cure for her affliction. Finding no help in either the realm of science or mysticism, Elizabeth became bitter and angry at her fate.

She wandered aimlessly, using her powers both for good and bad. She uses her abilities sparingly, as using it tends to stimulate her own bowels and bladder, but she has excellent control, able to make any woman within her line of sight involuntarily evacuate her bowels or bladder with but a gesture.

Her own continence in general, however, remains incredibly low, ranking below even the toddler lever. Elizabeth’s bladder retention is effectively nil, and she is unable to control her bowels on any level, with gas, liquid and solid mess escaping either before she feels anything or mere moments after getting the first urge.

Lost, frequently drunk, and often using her powers indiscriminately, she quickly fell under the gaze of Wolfe. Elizabeth find’s Wolfe’s vision of the world intriguing. In her mind, it simply levels the playing field by rendering most other women her age as incontinent as she is. Now embracing her abilities as part of who she is, Elizabeth adopts the bratty Betsy Wetsy persona, dressing like a sexy adult baby, her diapers prominently displayed (and frequently soiled) and wreaking havoc both to further her master’s agenda and for her own personal amusement.

Notes

- Betsy’s abilities manifest themselves in the form of a psionic bolt that both stimulates the bladder or bowels and paralyzes the sphincters, causing an almost instantaneous accident. Though she can’t make a subject urinate and defecate with a single bolt, she can project two bolts fast enough that both accidents seem to be occurring simultaneously. Blaese can even control the intensity of the beam, thus controlling the severity of the accident. Using these abilities only cause her a minimal amount of fatigue, about the same as doing some light exercise-- however, the use of her powers also seems to exacerbate her own incontinence, often causing her to wet or mess herself as well.

- Attempting to use her abilities on a male subject leads to a feedback loop, causing them to backfire on her, forcing Elizabeth to wet or mess herself at twice the power level she initially put out.

- Little is known about Blaese’s activities before she began using the Betsy Wetsy identity. With the funds accrued during her last big score, she was now independently wealthy, and had technically achieved all her lifelong goals-- yet her new condition brought her only humiliation and isolation. She initially began using her abilities on a small scale, embarrassing anyone who slighted or maligned her. She wreaked havoc on the beaches of south France and the snobby, society parties of New York and Gotham City... even in the corridors of power in Washington.

- Sources indicate that Blaese is in the midst of a torrid romance with Wolfe (who is intoxicated both by her abilities and by her diaper dependency.) Apparently she and Wolfe are effectively living together, and Wolfe has become her primary diaper changer. As a result, Elizabeth is now falling deeper and deeper into the ABDL lifestyle and has taken to using her Betsy Wetsey persona almost 24/7 now. In spite of her subservient role in their relationship, however, Blaese has been assuming a larger and larger role in Wolfe’s organization and is now believed to be second in command of the entire operation.

- Due to the embarrassing nature of her abilities, it’s difficult to verify rumours of her activities, but there is some evidence to confirm some reports. For example- video footage exists of Blaese causing chaos at a Gotham Knights cheerleaders practice, in which 88% of the squad was sent running to the locker room with wet and/or messy panties.

-Still unconfirmed: sources claim that an encounter with Catwoman while on assignment for Wolfe left the feline arch-criminal in the market for a fresh leather catsuit.

[Sarah Penguin]

[Parker Longabaugh]

If you pledge $8 or more on Patreon, be sure to click here to vote to help decide the future of the story. This poll is really close, so every vote matters! Even if you're not a patron, I'd still love to know what you thought-- let me know in the comments how you would have voted.

After receiving her confirmation from the boss, The Milk Maid went to work. The first bit was easy... using the device Wolfe had given her, Nicole trained her sights on the annoyingly perfect alien superheroine, her blonde locks flowing in the breeze. On the screen of her laptop, Supergirl appeared... Nicole entered a string of commands into the console, feeding the coordinates into Wolfe’s fiendish weapon... the first part of the trap they had laid for the powerful heroine.

Let’s just hope she’s as dumb as she looks, Nicole thought smugly, hitting enter.

She felt the building rumble a bit beneath her feet, the doors of the warehouse beneath her opening themselves. The machine left the building, streaking into the air and towards it’s target at hyper-velocity. The Milk Maid prayed, not for the first time, that Wolfe’s plan was as smart as he claimed it was... if we can’t neutralize the Kryptonian, this caper could well be over before it starts.

She watched the machine disappear into the sky, then turned and walked towards the door. Time to make sure everything was ready for the coming conflict.

 

Kara was getting ready to rejoin the group when she heard it-- the sound of something large and metallic hurtle through the air towards her at extremely high velocity. She barely even had time to check over her shoulder before it was on top of her, crashing into her with it’s tough metal body. Jarred but unhurt, Supergirl tried to twist and face her enemy, but a set of steely arms snapped shut around her, pinning her arms at her sides.

It would only take her a few moments to free herself-- at least, if her opponent held still for a second. But the metal monstrosity, whatever it was, wasn’t about to rest on it’s laurels. In moments, it was already rocketing back towards it’s point of origin, the Girl Of Steel gripped tightly within it’s powerful limbs.

“Uhhh... let go!” She cried, wriggling and squirming in it’s grip. The machine hurtled through the open loading bay door, which rolled shut behind them, and navigated the hallways at high speed until they reached the center of the complex. Activating her heat vision, Supergirl found she was able to scorch it’s exterior... but before she could do any serious damage, they had already arrived.

“Uuuggghh!” she grunted when the clanking contraption suddenly opened it’s arms, dropping her to the floor where she landed heavily on her rump, legs outstretched in front of her. “Oh, you are so in for it!” Kara said through gritted teeth.

She was on her feet in seconds, and finally she was able to get a good look at her attacker. Robot henchmen were a dime a dozen in her line of work, and although Wolfe’s model looked formidable, she had no reason to believe she wouldn’t have it beet in seconds flat. It surprised her that Wolfe would stoop to something so obvious-- the man seemed so much more clever than that.

But Kara didn’t have much time to puzzle it out... Wolfe’s machine, towering over her, fixed it’s blazing red glare on the heroine and lashed out, it’s heavy iron fist slamming into the floor where she’d stood just moments before.

“Boy, you’re really asking for it!” Supergirl growled. A quick scan with her x-ray vision revealed nothing... whatever this beast was, it was lead lined-- not that that was going to do them any good.

The machine lashed out again, then a third time, Kara dodged the blows with ease, a cocky smirk playing about her lips as she wound up for her Sunday-best punch, unleashing it straight into the contraption’s chest.

CLANK! Of all the things Kara expected, the last one was for the machine to pop open like a child’s toy, but that was precisely what happened: in reaction to her blow, the robot’s chest sprang open like a jack in the box-- but what emerged wasn’t a spring-loaded clown. Instead, the young alien beauty found herself and the room around her bathed in a strangely coloured light... eerie, yet horribly familiar.

Instantly, her strength was drained from her body, her powers fading like the embers of a dying fire before being extinguished. Her mighty strength was gone, her body as soft and frail as any other young woman. Wolfe had set her up but good. She knew what had happened even before she glanced inside the robot’s gaping chest cavity to confirm her fears, the seemingly innocent lump of glowing rock both frightfully familiar and somehow different from any specimen she’d ever seen.

“B-br-br-brown kryptonite...!?!” she uttered, feeling the awful, sickly weakness falling over her, the otherworldly radiation forcing the collected solar energy right out of her cells. And that wasn’t counting any other potential side effects... the various other forms of kryptonite could induce hallucinations, cause mutations, even split a Kryptonian into two totally separate light and dark beings... what effects could this new, previously unseen variation possibly...?

She felt her panties growing warm and wet, a noisy hiss followed by a steady splashing sound from below her. Kara was almost afraid to look, but she forced herself to glance down, making a pitiful little noise when she saw herself pissing her panties uncontrollably, streams of urine trailing down her thighs and soaking her red boots.

“Uugghh!” She cried, disgusted and horrified at her own immaturity. The idea was too silly for her to even contemplate, but there couldn’t be any other explanation... the kryptonite had made her wet herself!

A wave of panic washed over her, and the de-powered heroine was consumed by a desire to escape. She had to get away... now.

Turning on her heel, she tried to run from the room, but she only made it a few steps before her rubbery legs gave out beneath her, sending her crashing to the floor in a heap... a distinctly unfamiliar sensation for the usually graceful heroine. Toppling to the floor with a grunt, she sprawled out in a prone position with the wind knocked out of her.

Slowly, with all of what remained of her might, Kara forced herself up on her hands and knees. The bloomers clung wetly to her tight, round butt, quickly growing cold. Fixated on escape, she search for the door, fighting off delirium.

“I see you found the little present we left for you.”

“Uuhhh?” Kara looked towards the voice. Her eyes were blurring, and she wasn’t sure if what she was seeing was real... The woman came through the door, her dress old fashioned but very revealing... particularly her cleavage, which jutted out proudly in front of her, bouncing in time with her movements as she approached the crawling heroine. A large pink diaper bag was slung over one bare shoulder. Spread out on all fours, back arched, her cute little butt pointing up in the air behind her, Supergirl watched the newcomer approach with growing apprehension, her high heels clacking against the floor ominously.

“Awww... you poor thing,” The Milk Maid cooed, sweetness tinged with sarcasm. She bent down, grinning broadly as she reached out to remove her cape, folding it up and placing it on the floor. Next, she flipped the shivering heroine’s little skirt up onto her back, revealing her thoroughly soaked panties, the sopping wet material clinging to and accentuating the outline of her young butt and pussy. “Seems like you’re having a spot of trouble there, princess.”

As if on cue, Kara felt her bowels gurgle to life. The urge to defecate was upon her almost instantly, and before she knew what was happening, she felt her back passage opening, and she was filling her panties with a lumpy mess. The gorgeous blonde cringed when she passed gas noisily, the gooey brown lump in the seat of her pants instantly doubling in size.

“Oh dear!” Nicole said teasingly, grinning broadly and watching the dimple in the heroine’s panties grow into a peek, then a full blown bulge, the sticky mess staining the fabric brown. “That kryptonite eally did a number on you, didn’t it sweetie?”

“Oooohhhh!” The humiliated heroine howled, listening to herself fart and fill her underwear with a big, stinky mess, another gush of urine trickling down her thighs and pooling on the floor beneath her. Her red bloomers were stained, wet, and bulging behind her, the poopy stench really starting to emerge now.

“Phew!” Nicole smirked, crinkling her nose. “PU! Looks like someone wasn’t ready for panties yet, right babykins?”

Supergirl was blushing, but she wasn’t really listening... she was looking over her shoulder, bottom lip quivering, to inspect the humongous load in her pants. The lumpy mess in the seat of her bloomers bulged in every direction and was stained visibly brown in several places.

“I know a messy little superheroine who’s in the market for some fresh underwear,” Nicole said with a smirk, fishing an adult sized pamper from her diaper bag.

“UH-UH!” Supergirl shook her head firmly, staring up at her tormentor defiantly with a bratty pout.

“Oh yes,”Nicole said simply. In moments, a changing mat was spread out on the floor and she was looking the pouting heroine in the eye. “No more fooling around sweetie... you get that spoiled little butt over here and lay still for me to put you in a diaper... or you can just crawl off right now and let everyone see you in your messy little panties for all I care!”

Kara hesitated, fretting... what choice did she have? She was in no condition or state to help herself, and this woman didn’t seem to be out to do her injury... not yet anyway. Reluctantly, vividly aware of the squishing in her panties, Supergirl crawled across the floor, voluntarily spreading herself out on her back. Her lip quivered when she felt the mess mushing up against her butt, filling her butt crack with ooey-gooey poo-poo.

The Milk Maid pealed off her panties, put them in a plastic bag and dropped it to the floor with a heavy thump. Her boots followed, leaving her half naked. The strength drained from her body, all Kara could do was lay helplessly on her back, pouting, watching warily as she pulled out the wipes and powder.

Lifting Kara’s legs, Nicole went to work with the wipes, quickly cleaning the poopy off the heroine’s bum. A fresh wipe was used on her pussy, and the heroine found herself quickly powdered front of back, filling her nostrils with the scent of the nursery.

The diaper was slipped under her bottom before she knew it, and Supergirl quickly found herself taped up tight in an adult sized baby diaper, it’s waistband coming up to her belly button and forcing her thighs apart. Nicole pulled her into a sitting position.

“Arms up,” the villainess commanded. Groggy, her strength almost completely drained, Kara complied as best she could, frowning and scrunching her face adorably when the Milk Maid tugged a cute white t-shirt over her head. Kara noted a design on the front and glanced down, frowning when she saw that it was a sparkly pink version of her trademark S shield emblem.

A matching pink bonnet followed, Nicole quickly tying it in place under the pretty blonde’s chin, laughing when she saw how cute her victim looked. Supergirl scowled up at her, her blue eyes flashing angrily at The Milk Maid from under the bonnet. Had Kara still been in possession of her heat vision, the giggling villainess would have been reduced to a pile of ashes in a matter of seconds... but thanks to the kryptonite, she didn’t even have enough juice left to light a match.

“And now,” Nicole said, reaching up to undo the hidden snaps in the front of her costume, “I think it’s time for the big baby’s lunch.”

She let the front part of her dress flop forward, revealing her gorgeous, melon-like breasts with the full, erect nipple to the gaping Superheroine, who could only blush and stare. The Milk Maid grinned at her seductively, caressing her big beautiful titties invitingly. In just a few minutes, the sexy Kryptonian Adult Baby would be completely under her thrall.

What do you want to see next?

Supergirl breastfed ‘special’ milk

Wonder Woman changes Zatanna’s diaper

Poison Ivy regressed

Click here to vote now!

[Sarah Penguin]

[Parker Longabaugh]

I'd hoped to get the latest issue of Regression Crisis up, but (as usual) it's turning out to be a bit longer than I'd planned. As some of you know, I've got a minor injury on one of my arms, so my typing speed has been reduced... but I'm still hoping to get it done over the weekend. Look for it by the end of next week at the latest. As always, let me know in the comments if you're enjoying the story.

Since childhood, Nicole Foster was obsessed with babies and breastfeeding, and often had powerful fantasies involving breastfeeding her classmates starting when she was quite young. In particular, she had a powerful fixation on the concept of regressing and breastfeeding, especially of adult women.

In university, she studied biochemistry, dedicating herself to inducing lactation in women who haven’t had children, coming up with an experimental formula she eagerly tested on herself. Not only did it work, she found she could adjust the chemicals in the formula to produce different effects on those who drank it (milks that caused relaxation, milks that eliminate bladder/bowel control etc.) The only side effect was a massive increase in the size of her breasts.

Shunned from the mainstream scientific community, she was picked up and used as an operative by the CIA, seducing her targets, hypnotizing them with her milk, and extracting all their secrets. She tired of the job rather quickly, and soon struck out on her own, hoping to return to her research... only to discover she was still a pariah in the scientific community.

Unable to secure legitimate funding, Nicole began seducing, regressing, and emptying the bank accounts of beautiful, rich young women across the globe, using the funds to continue her research. INTERPOL had almost caught up to her when Wolfe brought her into his fold and put her to work on his big project.

Like The Paddler, The Milk Maid found an outlet for her perversions working with Wolfe, who provided the technology for her to perfect her formulas. She also received upgrades that made her stronger and faster (and, like The Paddler, gives him control over her.) Further, he developed her two Bottle Blasters-- advanced squirt guns in the shape of baby bottles that fire pressurized streams of her special milk.

Notes

Much of The Milk Maid’s exploits were conducted at the behest of one intelligence organization or another, which frequently makes obtaining exact details of her activities difficult. We have, however, been able to scrape together some interesting tidbits:

- Foster’s usual MO involves finding a mark (always female, always rich, usually young.) In particular, she looks for aimless, dissatisfied youth with unhappy family lives. The young woman is seduced and quickly falls under the spell of The Milk Maid’s special milk. Once under her control, Foster uses the young woman for her financial gain and sexual satisfaction until it’s time to move on to another victim.

- In 2016, Maj. Sofia Mikhailovna, a rising star in Russian intelligence, disappeared without a trace from a party in Moscow. After a week without contact of any kind, her superiors assumed the worst. They were horrified when Maj. Mikhailovna turned up in an apartment on the outskirts of the city, her mind totally emptied. After only a week of breast milk and brainwashing, the promising young intelligence operative was reduced to the mental level of a two year old, diapers and all (note: it is now believed that this operation utilized prototypes of the equipment being used in Wolfe’s current activities... a dry run, perhaps?)

- Foster was involved in a Brazilian women’s only “spiritual retreat and wellness centre” that was actually a front for a cult and extortion ring. Once the women (mostly executives or the daughters of wealthy families looking to dry out) were settled, a steady diet of her milk and a little old fashioned brainwashing quickly reduced them to a state of helpless, infantile dependency. Some were blackmailed, others fell under Foster’ sway and stayed voluntarily in a state of infantile helplessness-- totally under Nicole’s control.

- The Milk Maid has a preexisting relationship with one Dr. Pamela Isley AKA Poison Ivy. Rumour has it, after deciding they shared certain common interests, they worked very closely, each one contributing to the other’s projects.

[ppbenn]

Parker. I just started reading this story and I immediately read all chapters so far. You have a great talent for writing. Thanks for sharing your talents here.

 

On a side note; while scat is not my thing. I am amused at the expressive ways you are able to describe such a basic bodily function. 

 

I hope that your injury heals quickly and are able to continue this story (and others,) soon.

[Parker Longabaugh]

23 hours ago, ppbenn said:

Parker. I just started reading this story and I immediately read all chapters so far. You have a great talent for writing. Thanks for sharing your talents here.

 

On a side note; while scat is not my thing. I am amused at the expressive ways you are able to describe such a basic bodily function. 

 

I hope that your injury heals quickly and are able to continue this story (and others,) soon.

Thanks for the comment and for the well-wishes! I'm really having fun writing this story, so I'm always glad to hear people are enjoying it.

[Parker Longabaugh]

This just kept getting longer and longer, so I decided to cut it off at about the half way point and split it into two... so this is a special, non-voting installment of the story. The next installment (and the next poll) will be arriving early next week. I'm sorry if anyone's disappointed, but between the increasing length of the story and my injury, I was just not physically capable of finishing it up in time.

Huge thanks as always to everyone who's left comments thus far, it's greatly appreciated. If you're enjoying the story, please consider supporting me on Patreon-- $5 a month gets you access to two ongoing stories per month plus an ever-growing archive of exclusive stories and art.

Strapped securely to the plushly padded chair, the machinery humming around them, Harley Quinn looked up at Wolfe, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “I’ve only got two requests, Big Daddy.”

“Oh?” Wolfe couldn’t help smiling. Like Poison Ivy, he had no idea if this was a ruse or not, but he was certainly enjoying it either way. “Such as...?”

“Don’t take me down completely,” Harley begged in a husky whisper, her voice dripping with anticipation. “I want to know what it feels like to be a woman forced to behave like an infant... I want to be aware of who I was-- and what I’ve lost,” she said with a flirty flicker in her eyes.

As Ivy gaped at her friend disbelievingly, Wolfe couldn’t help feeling a stirring in his loins, but he maintained a professional facade. “I think I can accommodate you... to a point, anyway. What’s your other request?”

Harley turned and looked at Ivy, her expression sexy and teasing, filling Dr. Isley with dread. “Do her first,” Harley said lustily. “I want to watch... I want to see what I’m in for. And I want to see what Miss Bossy Britches looks like crawling around in a big diaper!”

“Harley!” Ivy hissed. She knew her friend was crazy, knew that their relationship was often strained, but she couldn’t believe her friend and lover would sell her out like this... and to a maniac like Wolfe, no less!

“Sorry, Red,” Harley said, turning to look at her apologetically. “I do like you... it’s just that you’re such a fussy britches sometimes and, well, I am a clown, after all... the idea is just too funny to turn down!”

“You Bitch!” Ivy cried, still not sure if her former partner-in-crime had an ace up her sleeve or if the cackling buffoon was genuinely selling her out.

Wolfe wasn’t going to waste the opportunity either way. “Very well, Dr. Quinzel... I’d be delighted to show you what the technology has to offer.”

“Wolfe,” Ivy said, trying to keep her voice calm, “Listen to me... it’s not too late-- I can still be useful to yo--”

“If you’ll turn the attention to the screen, “Wolfe interrupted, already punching commands into his keyboard, “you’ll notice the indicator marked ‘coordination...’ now, watch as I make my adjustments.”

“Now wait a minute, Wolfe,” Ivy said, trying to sound as forceful as possible when she was strapped naked to a glorified dentist chair. “Don’t be hasty... you don’t want to do anything you’ll regret--”

She hadn’t even finished speaking before the onscreen indicator began dipping, one bar at a time, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

“OOOOOEEEEEE!” Ivy cried, going rigid in her chair and tensing against her bonds, strange new sensations of both mind and body consuming her.

“Is she in pain?” Harley asked, for the first time feeling a little guilty for her funny joke.

“Quite the opposite,” he assured. “I’ve designed the process to be as pleasurable as possible.”

Harley was skeptical at first, but the more she listened the more she was sure she recognized Ivy’s cries of ecstasy, though she’d never heard them more intense and unrestrained before.

In the chair, Ivy continued emitting a howl that was somewhere between outrage and orgasm. Watching the coordination meter on the screen dropping lower one bar at a time, a curious thing happened... inside Poison Ivy’s mind, the various physical skills, little things most adults took for granted were disappearing from her mind at a rapid clip. First small things, like how to use a fork and knife and shuffle a deck of cards, working it’s way up to bigger things like knowing how to walk or write.

At the same time, Ivy could feel her body growing weaker, her limbs losing their decades of accumulated strength in a matter of moments, and soon she realized that even if she did remember how to walk, she no longer possessed the necessary strength to do so.

“We’ve now lowered her locomotive capabilities and fine motor skills down to around the two year old range,” Wolfe said, studying the few remaining bars on the display. “The physical threat is now neutralized... Ms Harding?”

“Yes sir?” The Paddler responded with her usual military precision. She’d been watching the proceedings with interest, and was happy to get in on the action.

“Would you mind putting a diaper on Dr. Isley, please?”

“With pleasure,” Ava responded, stalking over to Poison Ivy with a broad smile.

“Hey! Whoa! Don’t!” Ivy squealed, struggling against her bonds, her beautiful tits wobbling in time with her feeble struggles. Wolfe’s treatment had worked exactly as intended... she was as weak and helpless as a newborn babe.

“Just lay still, darling,” The Paddler said sweetly, taking the supplies out of her kit. “We’ll have you all safe and diapered up in no time!”

“Stay away from me you bitc—MMMmmph!” Ivy’s protests were cut off by the fat rubber nipple of a pacifier being pushed into her mouth. Ava took the loop of ribbon tied to the soother and draped it around Ivy’s neck so she wouldn’t lose it.

Her feet were unstrapped, and The Paddler was able to grasp her ankles in one powerful hand, effortlessly lifting her legs into the air, the pale plump heart of her bottom revealed to the room. With expertise born of hours of practice, Ava soon had the squirming villainess powdered and pampered, her privates wrapped up tight in thick, crinkly plastic.

“Don’t you look cute!” The Paddler teased, tickling Ivy under her chin. Unable do more than squirm weakly on her back, Ivy scowled up at her tormentor from behind her pacifier, glaring daggers, fantasizing about what she would do to the smirking blonde bully if only she could get free.

Ivy spat out the pacifier, which hung loosely around her neck. “You bastards!” She growled, squirming and straining against her bonds. “I’ll get even with all of you! You’d better watch your backs, because when I’m done with you...”

But Wolfe wasn’t listening-- he was typing away on his keyboard, and Harley watched, fascinated, as Ivy tensed once more, emitting a shocked squeal as Wolfe’s machine activated once again. On screen, she noticed the meter marked ‘continence’ beginning to dip, slowly disappearing bar by bar.

Ivy saw it too, but there was nothing she could do... strapped down firmly and locked in a state of semi-orgasmic paralysis, she could only watch the meter get lower and lower, powerless to prevent Wolfe from draining her continence away to almost nothing. Watching the last few bars vanish before her eyes, she felt her bladder slacken, a powerful stream of urine gushing out of her uncontrollably, the diaper between her thighs growing wet and swollen. Unable to stop herself from shuddering and squirming, Ivy felt the pamper squishing wetly against her ass and pussy as she watched the last of her control of her bodily functions dwindle away to nothing.

She was outraged when she heard Harley giggling, turning and shooting her an angry glance. Poison Ivy seethed when her angry stare was met with more derisive laughter from the cackling clown. “Pammy pissed her pampers!” Harley said, howling with hilarity at the sight of her proud partner-in-crime and occasional lover squirming in a pair of soggy diapers.

“You sick, twisted assholes!” Ivy cursed, straining against her bonds, the soppy squishing of her soggy pamper under her butt making her stomach roll. “You think this is funny?! I’m going to--”

“I’m sure you’ll agree,” Wolfe said to Harley, ignoring Ivy entirely, “that Dr. Isley’s primary threat comes from her formidable intelligence, so I think that’s the next thing we need to neutralize...”

“NNNNOOOO!” Ivy shrieked, the concept of being robbed of her intellect, her most prized attribute, filled her with terror, her stomach bubbling with fear and horror at the idea of losing the thing that defined her the most.

But Wolfe’s response came in the form of activating the machine once more, and Ivy let of a shrill, piercing cry, the indicator marked ‘intelligence’ beginning to drop one bar at a time. Her eyes crossed, her revulsion and anger dissolving into ignorance and a slow building arousal.

In the next seat Harley watched the proceedings with interest. The sensation of horror she felt at literally watching her friend’s intellect dwindle to nothing in front of her eyes were slowly being subsumed by a powerful lust.

“Uuuu-hhuuhh-hhhummmm...” she groaned stupidly, a line of drool trickling out of her mouth and down her chin. She wanted to speak, but the words seemed to be vanishing from her brain the moment she tried to speak them. On screen, the meter dipped lower one bar at a time, Ivy’s mind growing cloudier by the second. It was like the knowledge was still there, but her access to it was limited. Her thoughts grew cloudy, and although she could remember all the details of her life up to this point, she was having trouble making sense of it.

Harley watched the bar dipping with a sick sort of thrill, the process of watching Poison Ivy, as dangerous as she was beautiful, being slowly transformed from a brilliant villainess into a drooling, diaper clad moron filled her with dread... and an appalling lust at the thought of the helpless creature she’d be when it was finished.

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Babes In Diapers

[Sarah Penguin]

[Parker Longabaugh]

I finally finished it! I hope you all enjoy reading about the last half of Ivy's regression as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you're in the Audience Participation tier on Patreon, don't forget to vote in to poll to help determine what happens next! Let me know if you're enjoying it!

As Ivy writhed and groaned on the table, the intelligence meter dipping below the mid way point and still sinking, Wolfe continued his narration: “Her IQ is now below 85, but the subject is still in full possession of her memories. Therefore, in order to prevent distress...” he trailed off, his voice replaced by the clacking of the keyboard. Moments later, the meter marked ‘memory’ began dipping in tandem with the intelligence meter, one bar at a time.

“OOOOooo!” Ivy emitted a squeal that was positively orgasmic. Her mature mind, her intelligence, her memories, everything that defined her as a woman was slipping away... but it just felt so wonderful. A sexy tickling sensation broke out across her entire body, and Ivy was now squirming against the straps in ecstasy. As her intelligence dwindled to the level of a young toddler, her memories of university and high school went flying out of her brain, with junior high quickly following.

Wolfe finally settled her IQ somewhere in the range of 2-3 years old, with her memories a little bit below that. Ivy looked around the room with wide, innocent eyes, her gurgles confused but happy. Harley nearly laughed out loud at the transformation... the tough-as-nails Poison Ivy she knew had been reduced to the level of a drooling and diapered toddler in a matter of moments. Her gorgeous, womanly body was now totally at odds with her adorable new personality. Harley had to smile-- that big thick diaper certainly suited her now!

“We’re almost done-- there’s just one more thing. Please turn your attention to the meter marked ‘libido’.”

Harley did, and she noticed that, unlike the others, this one was only about half full. “According to this indicator, Dr. Isley’s sex drive is a little above average for a woman her age.”

Harley could attest to that, and she watched with great interest as Wolfe began typing commands into the console. Slowly, the meter began to fill, climbing towards the top one bar at a time.

“Huuuhh!” Ivy grunted, thrusting suddenly in her seat. Her fully regressed mind was unable to understand what Wolfe was saying... but she had absolutely no difficulty understanding what was happening to her. Instantly, a powerful sexual energy began building inside her, pulsating outward from her pussy through her limbs. She writhed in her seat, pampers crinkling under her bum, getting hornier with every bar that was added to the meter. Within just a few moments, Poison Ivy was more aroused than she’d ever been, and had she not been restrained, she would have gladly stuck her hand down the front of her diaper to masturbate.

Watching Ivy’s sexual undulations grow more energetic the higher the meter climbed, Harley couldn’t help herself from laughing. Big baby Ivy was thrashing and writhing, thrusting her hips into the air and gurgling, begging for someone, anyone, to provide her with the pleasure she was so desperately seeking.

With the libido meter growing higher and higher, Wolfe came around to the front of the chair. Breathing frantically, her bare bosom rising and falling alluringly, Ivy gazed up at him with lust clouded eyes, her expression a promise that she would do anything if he’d only unleash the burning sexual energy inside her.

Slowly reaching out, he began softly raking his fingers across the pale flesh of her exposed belly, drawing a peel of screaming laughter from the villainess. Writhing and struggling against her bonds, she was powerless to prevent him from tickling her ribs, her under arms, even the undersides of her breasts. Shrieking with laughter, Ivy wriggled and squirmed as best she could, both futilely attempting to escape and revelling in the power this handsome man had over her.

“I think we can get rid of these,” he said, unstrapping her ankles and freeing her long, smooth legs. “I mean, it’s not like you’re in any condition to be going anywhere, are you sweetheart?”

“Uh-uh!” Ivy gurgled with a bright smile, loving every second of being his pampered prisoner.

“Oh my,” he said, reaching under her seat, “what have we here?”

Ivy’s eyes bulged excitedly when he produced to powerful looking Hitachi vibrator. Her arousal had totally overwhelmed what little remained of her logic and restraint. The brilliant scientist and powerful villain was truly no more-- only a beautiful, horny Adult Baby remained, and she was all to eager to spread her legs and pull her knees up towards her chest, presenting her thickly padded crotch to Wolfe to have his wicked way with.

The Hitachi roared to life with a loud hum, and Ivy held her breath chewing her lip, watching Wolfe bringing it closer and closer to the front of her pampers...

The vibrator made contact with her padded crotch, producing a thunderous buzz. Ivy’s response was immediate, a high-pitched squeal that pierced the room. Poison Ivy giggled and slobbered, gurgling wetly, kicking her legs excitedly in the air. The Hitachi made her entire diaper vibrate against her ass and pussy, sending her into a shrieking erotic frenzy.

“Oh my... you are a silly girl now, aren’t you?” he teased, reaching down to play with her nipples, grinning when she bucked and writhed in response, her newly augmented sex drive enhancing the sensations she was experiencing, driving her mad with pleasure.

From her seat, Harley watched the scene unfolding before, a gooey mess of conflicting emotions. She felt a little guilty for selling out her friend, and knowing that, barring a miracle, she was moments away from a similar fate herself... but watching the brilliant, beautiful and wildly sexy Ivy reduced to a diaper clad sex maniac was also pretty amusing-- not to mention the fact that it was making Harley pretty horny herself. She watched, sweaty with lust, simultaneously fantasizing about having the regressed little slut at her mercy... and of replacing her in the depraved scenario that played out in front of her.

As for Poison Ivy herself, she had no deep thoughts at all beyond her current search for sexual gratification. Before her transformations, she might have recognized the gurgling cramps slowly building inside her, might have realized what the sudden, gassy pressure quickly descending through her guts meant.

But her brain was unable to process the meaning of these sensations any more than her now useless sphincter was able to retain the rapidly increasing mass in her colon, and the lovely Adult Baby had no idea what was happening until she let out a big loud fart into her diaper.

The onlookers chuckled, but Ivy didn’t even notice, so focused was she on her oncoming orgasm, she was oblivious to the laughs of the onlookers and the noise of the fart... nor did she take much notice of the one the followed, though she did emit a surprised little “oh!” in response.

“Oh-ho!” Wolfe laughed, never letting up with the vibrator, “is someone about to make Daddy a present?”

Ivy’s response came in the form of a cacophony high pitch screams of pleasure and deep, rumbling farting, the gas getting more moist with every one... by the end, it was obvious she was passing more than just gas.

Harley howled with hilarity. She was, of course, a great fan of toilet humour, something the uptight, stern Poison Ivy had never tolerated. To see her now providing some quite humorous fart jokes to the proceedings (and in the midst of getting off no less... something that would have mortified the old Ivy to death) had the cackling clown almost rolling around on the floor with laughter.

The farting only got worse the closer she got to orgasm, the formerly prim and proper scientist and seductress totally forgetting all modesty and decorum, the final vestiges of her maturity leaving her as she suffered a particularly nasty gas attack, her back passage opening up to allow a hot, mushy dolop of poo-poo into the seat of her diapers.

“Oooeeee!” she gurgled, squirming on her back, her feet wiggling in the air above her. Ivy pulled her knees back towards her chest and spread her thighs, allowing the throbbing vibrator unlimited access to her throbbing pussy. A dark stain appeared on the seat, and it just continued getting larger by the minute.

At last the moment of orgasm arrived at the exact moment her anus opened fully, a massive semi-soft load blasting noisily into the seat of her pampers. Ivy kicked and screamed, coming and going at the same time, the seat of her diapers bulging and staining visibly beneath her, accompanied by a muddy, squishy blurping sound.

“Well, well,” Wolfe laughed, deactivating the Hitachi and watching her sink into the haze of her post-coital bliss, the poopy stench beginning to emerge. “Looks like you’ve got a brown bum to match that green thumb of yours now, don’t you sweetie?”

He undid the straps around her wrists, and Ivy quickly took the opportunity to pop her thumb into her mouth and begin sucking contentedly, hovering on the edge of consciousness.

Slipping the vibrator back into it’s place, Wolfe turned his attention to Harley, who shivered when he came towards her.

“Ms. Harding... would you mind changing Pammy’s diaper please? I’ve got an appointment to keep with the lovely Dr. Quinzel.”

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