18+ only! 100% NSFW! Dedicated to age play, spanking, domestic discipline, corporal punishment, medical fetishism, and, of course, beautiful women in diapers. If you like what you see here, leave a comment or drop me a line at: parkerlongabaugh@yahoo.ca

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Financial Planning Or: The Heiress Embarrassed

(Yes, I`m still working on the final part of Therapy. But this one jumped into my head so cleanly and fully formed, I just had to get it done. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.)

          In the past, stopping by the Galleria for a mid-afternoon shopping-spree was Nikki’s idea of paradise. Something about spending money after a nice lunch gave her a real rush—an almost sexual surge of energy. She didn’t need (or, often, even want) most of the things she bought. It was about status and power: the ability to flaunt what she had, and lord it over those who didn’t.
     The decision to have plastic surgery had come from the same place: It’s not that she wasn’t a knock-out before. It was her compulsive need to have the best that drove her to take her already gorgeous face and body and turn it into a temple of sensuality. She revelled in every longing glance she’d ever received from a man who’d never have a shot at her, and the icy glare she’d give in return, just like she thrilled at every angry stare from jealous women, and the smug, condescending smirk she’d send back their way.
     And, upon returning to her opulent home after another successful shopping expedition, she’d scurry upstairs to try on her latest purchases and stare at herself in the mirror, drinking in her own beauty, imagining the reactions of the peasants around her. She imagined herself a beautiful princess, immune from all consequences...
     And now look where it’s gotten me, she thought with a pout.
     The parking lot as the Galleria was bursting at the seams. For a moment, Nikki was hopeful that Jim would be unable to find a space, that they’d be forced to turn around and go home... That he’d have to find some other way to punish her...
     But then, just as she felt he was about to give up, a red jeep pulled out. Nikki’s heart felt frozen in her chest as Jim manoeuvred the car into the spot. “Right by the entrance, too,” he said with a grin.
     Panic welled up in her. Clutching the plain, brown overcoat around her, she turned to plead: “Please Jim; Please don’t make me do this...”
     “I’m sorry, princess,” he said, shutting the car off, “but you made a deal, you signed the contract, and now you gotta pay the piper.”
     She groaned and moved to open the door. “Just a moment, young lady; we need to complete your outfit.”
     Confused, she turned toward him. “What do you mean?” she asked, her face growing pale when she saw what was in his hand: a frilly, pink, and utterly adorable baby bonnet. Nikki groaned. “Oh, come on,” she whined, “I’m begging you, Jim; don’t make me wear that thing...”
     “Hush.” He shoved a pacifier into her mouth. She pouted at him from behind it, eyes shooting flaming darts of hatred toward him as he tied the bonnet neatly under her chin. “Perfect. Ok, sweetheart: time to go.”
     She thought briefly about locking the car door and trying to outlast him. But when Jim continued to watch her patiently from the driver’s seat, waiting for her to go first, she knew it was futile. She climbed out and slammed the door behind her. She stood beside the car, sucking her pacifier and pouting nervously beneath her bonnet, pulling the long, brown coat, so unlike anything you’d ever expect to see a woman like her wearing, tightly around her middle, as though she were freezing.
     In actuality, it was quite hot inside the parkade, and Nikki’s attire was drawing a few looks, even before the show had officially begun.
     Jim reached into the back and brought out a fistful of bags, each bearing the logo of a different, high-end boutique somewhere in the Galleria. These he handed over to Nikki before withdrawing a heavy canvas bag and slinging it over his own shoulder before locking the car and slamming the door.
     “Ok,” he said, ushering Nikki along with a sweep of his arms, “Let’s go.”
     He walked off toward the elevators, Nikki trudging along beside him.

     Once in the elevator, he turned to her. “Ok, let’s get that coat off.”
     Nikki pulled the coat even tighter around her. Pouting behind her soother, she shook her head petulantly. “Nuh-uh!”
     Jim fixed her with a serious look. “Let’s not make this any worse than it has to be, little lady,” he admonished, holding out his hand expectantly.
     With a small, self-pitying groan, Nikki stripped off the coat and handed it over to Jim, who stuffed it into his bag. Beneath the coat and it’s unflattering folds, Nikki was dressed like a two-year old, her bonnet and soother well complemented by the little-girl’s party dress she had on beneath it: a frilly creation of bows, lace, and taffeta that any three year old girl would be proud to own. Its hem barely came down past the seat of her matching bloomers, the lace around the leg-holes and ruffles across the fanny clearly visible. Her seat and hips budged comically, and is was obvious to even the most casual observer that she was heavily diapered; a fact confirmed by the loud, crinkly plastic pants beneath, which would be clearly audible, even in the noise of the Galleria. Her long, smooth legs were bare all the way down to her ankles, and on her feet she had a pair of frilly socks, and oversized Mary Jane shoes, shined and polished like new.
     “You look adorable,” he said with a grin. She fumed behind the pacifier, her fury in a race with her embarrassment to see which would overwhelm her first. “Something on your mind, honey?” he asked sweetly, removing the pacifier.
     “Jim, please, I learned my lesson! Please don’t make me go through with this!”
     “I’m sorry honey, but you hired me to do a job. I told you before: in order to work with the money you have left, you have to stay within your budget. When you signed me on as your financial advisor, you give me carte blanche to get you back on track. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but, since I can’t convince you to reign in your spending any other way, I think a little humble pie is in order.”
     “But it’s so embarrassing,” she whined.
     “Hush,” he said, pushing the pacifier back into her mouth. “Take your medicine like a good girl.”
     The elevator dinged. The doors slid open.
     Nikki emitted a small whine as Jim pulled her into the Galleria.

     It was business as usual at first: People strolled through the shops, clerks and maintenance workers going about their business absent mindedly.
     But Nikki knew it would be impossible to remain unnoticed for long. Sure enough, she caught the eye of a young woman walking by with her boyfriend, who did a double take, stopped speaking in midsentence, and stopped to gape, open-mouthed, at the bizarre spectacle. Her boyfriend followed her gaze, and soon he was staring, too.
     And so it went, until Nikki realized, with a fierce blush, that every eye in the Galleria was on her, her lovely, beautiful, womanly body squeezed into these ridiculous baby clothes. She was light-headed with humiliation.
     As Jim led her through the crowd toward the first store on their list, the customers began to come out of their shock. Some whispered amongst each other, speculating: was this a performance art piece? Some kind of reality TV stunt? A few people laughed outright, the sight of a fully grown woman in diapers and baby clothes too much for them to handle. A few of the women in the crowd, Jim noticed, hung back and watched with cautious fear: could something like this happen to me? they thought, some worried about the possibility of being diapered, dressed like a baby, and dragged into public, others worried they might enjoy it.
     A group of teenage girls pointed and laughed as Jim walked by hand in hand with Nikki, who toddled along behind him, her thickly padded bottom making her waddle.
     “I told you,” said one, clearly the leader, “she’s totally wearing a diaper!”
     The other girls burst out laughing. Nikki looked at her feet and preyed she would wake up in her nice, cozy bed at any moment.
     “Do you have to change her pampers, mister?” The lead girl asked Jim while the others stifled their giggles behind her.
     “Yes,” he answered matter of factly, “and you girls will want to make sure you don’t spend too much of your mummy and daddy’s money, or they might hire me to do the same to you!”
     The girl’s ceased their giggling at once, their faces pale at the suggestion. Could something like this really happen to them, too?
      “Yeah, f-fat chance,” the lead girl finally managed with false bravado. But the idea of their parents hiring the handsome Jim to diaper them like babies for spending too much money was burned into their minds. They disbanded for the evening shortly thereafter; more than a few were eager for the chance to lie in bed imagining it was them in Nikki’s position.
     At the entrance to the first store, they passed a mother with two small children, a boy and a girl. The boy made a farting noise with his mouth as Nikki walked past. “Ewww!” He cried mockingly, “The big baby messed her diapers!”
     The crowd laughed, and Nikki blushed. Desperate to defend herself, she blurted out “I did not!” adamantly, drawing even more laughter.
     “Yes she did,” the boy’s sister chimed in, waving her hand in front of her face, “I can smell it!”
     “No I didn’t!” she cried seriously, nearly bursting into tears when her insistent defence simply brought more derisive laughter from the gathered onlookers.
     But now, in spite of their mother’s attempts to shush them, the children began chanting “Poopy-butt Baby! Poopy-butt Baby!” over and over. Their mother dragged them off screaming down the Galleria.
     By the time they entered the store, the taunts and accusations of the children had brought Nikki to the brink of tears.  Inside the neatly maintained Belford-Hawlet Boutique, the staff and customers slowly stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at the bizarre spectacle of an overgrown-infant moving across the sales floor. Jim pulled Nikki toward the counter. She resisted, tugging at his hand and trying to free herself.
     “Come now, Nikki, let’s get this over with and get you back home for your nap,” he chided, delivering a loud swat to her bulging, ruffled tushy.
     They stopped in front of the counter. The manager, a no-nonsense woman in her 40’s whom Nikki had seen many times before, surveyed the scene before her without a trace of a reaction. The clerks and customers, on the other hand, gathered to watch, whispering and tittering in the background.
     Olga, the manager, looked Nikki up and down with distaste.  She addressed Jim. “Can I help you?”
     Jim prodded Nikki foreword. “Go on, honey,” he coaxed,  “Tell the nice lady what you want.”
     Taking the Belford-Hawlet bag, she walked up to the counter. “I—I gotta return this stuff.”
     “Do you have a receipt, madam?” If Olga recognised Nikki or noticed her bizarre outfit, she had yet to let on.
     Reaching into the bag, Nikki produced the receipt and handed it over. For some reason, this woman’s non-reaction to her current state was as embarrassing as the laughter and cat-calls of the spectators.
     “And what is the reason for the return?”
     “I... um...” She took a deep breath. “I... Went over budget and spent too much money this month...” Nikki felt a twinge in her abdomen that had nothing to do with her seemingly unending embarrassment. She realized grimly that her bladder was beginning to feel quite full.
     Olga filled out the necessary paperwork, being sure to take her time about it and prolong Nikki’s exposure. She slowed even further as she noticed Nikki beginning to squirm.
     “Nikki, stop fidgeting,” Jim scolded, landing another loud wack across her ruffled bottom. “Can’t you sit still for five minutes?”
     “I gotta go!” she blurted, turning red as the assembled crowd laughed at her predicament.
     “I’m sure you can hold it.”
     “But I really gotta go,” she whined. Unable to help herself, she reached under her dress and pressed her palms against her crotch through her diapers and baby bloomers, stepping up and down in place frantically.  Everybody burst out laughing at her desperate pee-pee dance.
     “We’ll be done in just a minute, Nikki.”
     “I don’t think I can hold it!” she whimpered.
     “You’ll be fine—weren’t you just telling me just a few minutes ago about what a big girl you were?”
     “Well, yeah...”
     “Well, this is the perfect opportunity to prove to everyone that you don’t really need diapers, isn’t it sweetheart?” Jim asked with a knowing grin.
     Gritting her teeth, she redoubled her efforts, determined to wipe that smug smirk off his face. Around her, clerks and customers were whispering amongst themselves, placing wagers on whether or not poor Nikki was about to douse her diapers.
     Meanwhile, Olga simply continued taking her time, pretending not to notice the commotion around her. Finally, she slid the paper over to Nikki. “Sign here, please.”
     Snatching the pen up, Nikki hastily scratched her name. She threw the pen down and was about to commence her desperate dash for the potty when her bladder erupted.
     It left her in a long, hot gush, bringing with it a telltale hiss and the pitter-patter of liquid striking the bulky cotton between her legs, loud enough for everyone to hear. At first, she struggled to retain control, to prove to everyone that she didn’t really need these diapers. But it soon became apparent she had no control left, and as the utter relief washed over her, she no longer cared. She couldn’t resist letting out a loud “Ahhhh!” which brought even more derisive laughter.
     In moments, it was over. Nikki stood before everyone, the warm crotch of her diaper sagging heavily against her baby pants.
      Jim swatted her rear-end. “Naughty girl!” He admonished. “I thought you said you didn’t need diapers! Look at this,” he reached beneath her dress and stuck his fingers into the leg band of her diapers. “Just as I thought! You’re soaked, little girl!
     “Well, get down on the floor young lady. I’ll have you changed in no time.”
     Nikki’s face went white, even as she other women began to murmur and cackle excitedly around her, each and every one thrilled at the prospect of seeing Nikki submit to a soggy diaper change from the handsome Jim. “But... No... You can’t change me here!”
     “Let’s go, little girl, or you’ll get a spanking along with it.”
     The crowd hooted with laughter at the thought, and Nikki was just about to comply when Olga finally piped up.
     Every eye in the store was soon on her. “You can’t change her on the floor.”
     Even though she was standing in a wet diaper in front of a laughing crowd, Nikki felt a surge of relief. Finally, she thought, a little Sanity around here!
     “Mandy, Allison,” Olga began, addressing two clerks, “clear off that sale table over there so that everyone can get a good look at the baby getting a change.”
     Nikki shot her a desperate, pleading look. “No, please don’t do that,” she whined.
     “Quiet sweetie,” said Jim cheerfully, returning her pacifier to her mouth.
     The clerks sprang into action, quickly clearing the clothes and signs from the table and getting it ready for Nikki’s change. Jim spread out a blanket, then turned to Nikki and pointed. “Up you get, precious,” he said, coaxing her along with a couple of pats on her soggy, padded bottom.
     She sat up on the table, staring out with her beautiful blue eyes pleading, imploring them the leave her with some dignity intact. But as the crowd gathered about her, joking and laughing amongst each other, it was obvious that was a remote possibility.
     “Lay back, honey,” Jim instructed. Nikki was soon staring at the ceiling, the clerks and customers gathered around in a ring above her, staring down with malicious delight. She felt Jim flip up her little dress, exposing her frilly baby pants and soggy diaper.  He tugged the panties down her thighs and off her feet, setting them down close by. One of the clerks pointed to them and nudged another.
     “I think my baby sister has the same ones!” she laughed.
     Nikki’s diaper had an obvious yellow stain on the front. Jim tisked and undid the pins. Olga leaned down and whispered in Nikki’s ear.
     “Now we’re all going to see what you’re made of, you little brat.” Despite her composed, detached demeanour, Olga knew exactly who Nikki was; she’d dealt with the spoiled rotten little bitch on more than one occasion. Like the other clerks in the store, she was sick and tired of Nikki’s demands and obnoxious manner. Truth was, she was as delighted as anybody at Nikki’s humiliation, and she was determined to stretch the experience out as long as she could to ensure maximum embarrassment for the bratty heiress.
     Jim opened the diaper, exposing the thoroughly soaked crotch to the crowd. The women in front immediately burst out laughing.
    “Her pussy’s shaved!” One laughed hysterically. “She’s bald as a cue ball!”
     The other women exploded into laughter and crowded in to get a look. Jim took a wipe and began cleaning Nikki’s crotch carefully, making sure to get in every nook and cranny. “Bottoms up,” he said, taking her ankles and bending her legs back. Nikki groaned as her full, rounded derrière came into view, quivering in the cool air. Jim took his time wiping off each chubby cheek. Nikki thought she would faint from the humiliation when he took another cloth, stuck it in her crack, and used it to wipe her butt in front of the cackling crowd. The next thing she knew, he was sprinkling her upturned tushy with baby powder and patting it in firmly. The process was quickly repeated on her front.
     “Diaper time,” Jim said with a smile, sliding a thick, disposable adult pamper under her squirming backside. He taped it up, and Nikki gave a defeated whimper as she found herself trapped in diapers again.
     After putting her baby pants back on, he looked to the assembled people. He pulled her
unsteadily to her feet. Nikki began to cry silently as the audience burst into applause. “Anybody else up for a change?”
     He scanned the faces in the crowd, until he came upon a sales girl in her mid 20’s, looking nervous (and perhaps even a trifle faint). He gave her a wolfish grin. “What about you, miss? Hop up here, sweetheart, I’ll have you toddling around here with a diapered bum in no time!”
     Wide eyed, the girl shook her head nervously, even as her co-workers whooped and egged her on, excited at the prospect of seeing their cute colleague in a diaper and baby clothes.
      “What do you say, Ms. Manager?” Jim asked Olga.
     Olga’s shrug was casual. “As long as I don’t have to change any diapers...”
     The sales girls whooped and grinned sinisterly at their blushing co-worker.
     Jim led Nikki back over to the counter on wobbly legs. “I’ll leave you ladies with a few pampers before I go, how does that sound?”
     Another of the sales-girls, a tall brunette who towered over her nervous, blushing co-worker, spoke for the rest of them. “I think that’ll be just fine, mister,” she said with a leering grin, the other women clucking their approval and moving to form a circle around their trembling co-worker.
     Back at the counter, Nikki stood by sobbing quietly while Olga counted her money back, unable to believe how completely she’d been humiliated. She’d never be able to show her face around here again. She suddenly became hyper-aware of every eyeball on her, every snicker, every snide remark, every single fibre of the diaper rubbing up against her bottom. She knew there would be no turning back.
     No matter how she dressed or where she went, she was a baby forever, now.
     Jim collected the money and slipped it into his bag. After Thanking Olga, he took Nikki’s hand and lead her out the door. “Come along, precious,” he said with a smile, “only four more stores to go.”
     Nikki burst into tears as she was lead away, mocking laughter following her out the door...


  1. Excellent story, good to see Nikki taken down a peg or two

  2. love to see this happen to a rich girl like Paris Hilton or someone