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

Monday, February 27, 2012

Media Project Update

Alloy Ash--Via The Spank Statement

Hey everyone,

     First up from Dave: from the video One Minute Man by Missy Elliott (ft. Ludacris) "has girls in cribs, bottles of milk, and suggested bed wetting. This starts with the longest segment (2:28 - 2:45) and then shows up sporadically through the rest of the video." This is a great scene-- the girls are really cute and I love their little panties. Here's an edit of all relevant material:

     Next up, we've got this tidbit form our old friend Dick:

This time I'm sending an episode of a show called "Anything for Money." The premise was that an actor would stop random people on the street and offer them money to perform crazy stunts. In-studio contestants would then try to guess if the person took the money.

In this scene, a woman is asked to appear in a (fake) ad for a health club whose motto is "We baby you." Naturally she will have to wear baby clothes...

     Elana sent us this interesting tidbit from the guardian-- fodder for all you Sic-Fi ABDL fans:

Smart baby pyjamas
The news that your baby's nappy needs changing eventually reaches your nose, but that information could now arrive more quickly by text or email. Exmobaby (exmobaby.exmovere.com) will demonstrate a wearable baby monitor that can detect an infant's vital signs and relay them to phones, PCs and tablets. The sensors are hidden under layers of fabric, which the manufacturer says makes them virtually undetectable to human touch.
The washable pyjamas pick up humidity, movement, skin temperature and heart rate. They connect to the internet using low-power digital radio… and are, of course, rechargeable.

     Next up on the Buried Treasure front, we have this item from Bill:

"About ten years or so ago, there was a game show called Street Smarts where players made wagers based on whether or not the random man on the street could correctly answer trivia questions. In one (possibly Halloween) episode, the "man on the street" was a pretty young woman in a diaper and t-shirt."

     Bill says there was definitely a clip of this online at one point-- anyone seen it, anyone got it?

     Last on the agenda: personal business, apologies, excuses, whining etc...

     Finally making my way through my e-mail backlog-- if you haven't heard from me yet or if I haven't gotten you something I promised, thank your for your patience, I'll get it to you ASAP.

     On the story front: I'm a bit burned out and not sure what I want to do next, so I'm taking the lazy way out and putting it in your hands again-- let me know what you think.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Adult Entertainment Part 2

Part 1
(As always, please comment if you like it)



     (Jenna sipped her wine and watched the screen, enraptured as Mercedes, Amber, and the man changed the squirming Tiffany’s diaper. The woman who greeted her at the door came out holding a camcorder and got down on her knees to film the event even closer. How much had this cost to produce? On top of the larger than usual fees for the models, there must’ve been at least three hidden cameras (she was sure she could identify one over the TV, one in the ceiling, and one on the back wall)… definitely a world class set up. On the screen, they had finished up the diaper change. Tiffany was sitting on the blanket, playing absently with one of the plush toys. It was getting a little boring, to be honest.
     Amber suddenly crinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?” She came over and sniffed around the oblivious Tiffany. She gagged and retreated, fanning her face theatrically. “Awww!” she cried, “Did you poop your pants?!”)

     The first thing Tiffany noticed after her apocalyptic orgasm was the fullness of her bladder: that heavy, uncomfortable pressure in her pelvis. Mercedes was grinning down at her, reveling in her power, her total domination of the helpless adult baby below her. It was almost like playing with a great big doll.  When she’d arrived earlier that evening, she’d dismissed the idea that diapers could be sexy. Now, she found herself scheming to steal Tiffany, to take her back to her place and keep her a helpless little baby indefinitely.
     She heard the hiss and looked down. Tiffany’s diapers began to darken and bulk up. Mercedes let out a laugh. “She peed herself!”
     Amber looked over from the man’s lap. “Really?!”
     “I guess we better give her a change,” said the man. He displaced Amber from his lap with a couple of firm pats to her rump; she rose reluctantly and stood by pouting as he rose, picked up the diaper bag and walked over to the blanket. “Eve?” he said in a clear, loud voice.
     Somewhere in the house a door opened and shut; the woman, the one who’d met them at the door, entered armed with a camcorder. She came and stood by silently in the background, recording everything diligently. Amber and the man came and stood by Tiffany. The buxom adult infant regarded them with wonder and nervous apprehension. Tiffany was acutely aware of her helplessness-- she murmured and squirmed in her soggy diaper.  The man knelt down next to Mercedes, who was already undoing the pamper. She folded down the front panel; inside, the padding was soggy and yellow and swollen. “Oh, it was a big one, wasn’t it,” Mercedes grinned, reaching down to tickle Tiffany’s belly button. Nude from the waist down, Tiffany squealed and wriggled on her soaked diaper. She was aware enough to feel just the slightest twinge of embarrassment, but there was a delicious, playful sexuality in the situation… not to mention how nice it would feel to be free of this soggy diaper. She wriggled her rump and emitted a low, whining moan.
    “Oh, is someone cranky?”  Mercedes asked sweetly.
     “UUHH!” she agreed forcefully, making all the grown-ups laugh. She squeaked and wriggled as Mercedes cleaned off her diaper with a wipe, then unceremoniously lifter her legs and wiped her bare ass. Tiffany sighed, the cool wipe feeling heavenly on her uncomfortable little tushy. The man handed Mercedes a fresh diaper, then took the powder and sprinkled it across her upturned derriere.  Mercedes gleefully patted it in, taking time to squeeze and caress Tiffany’s butt-cheeks, making the girl shiver. The fresh diaper was slid beneath her bottom, and her front was powdered. Mercedes pulled the diaper up tight between her legs with smug delight. The little noise Tiffany made when they sealed the diaper shut made her a little dizzy. In fact, she was surprised to say the entire experience had left her feeling a little faint.
     (Jenna knew the feeling—she’d always had a kinky side of course, a part of her that adored being spanked, having her hair pulled, and of course being watched, but this was something new entirely. On screen, they pulled Tiffany into a sitting position. She began playing absently with her toys once more…)
     “It is rather sexy, isn’t it?” Amber purred and embraced the man. She kissed him aggressively. On the floor in front of them, Tiffany played with her little toys and bounced up and down on her diapered bottom, what remained of her adult personality now reduced to a tiny feeling, somewhere deep inside her, that this wasn’t right.
     Mercedes watched Tiffany closely, occasionally reaching out to touch her gently. She was still buzzing with power—in fact, she was beginning to feel almost drunk. Amber and the man went back to making out on the couch. Mercedes watched Tiffany play, stroking her hair softly and staring at her with quiet lust. The Woman, Eve, stood back silently, recording everything.
     “So, tell me about this regression formula of yours,” Amber asked the man. “Does it always reduce its victims to drooling idiots so quickly?”
     “Oh no,” he said. “It’s much more—unpredictable than that…”
     On the floor, Mercedes found her dizziness increasing. Suddenly the room felt very hot; she reached up, pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, finding it warm to the touch. Her clothes were beginning to feel constricting.
     “Some go very quickly,” the man explained. “For others it takes a little longer. Some start by losing their speech centers, like pretty little Tiffany…”
     Tiffany turned at the sound of her name. With a gurgling laugh, she smiled vacantly at them and bounced her diapered bottom on the floor excitedly. Next to her, Mercedes was beginning to feel a little sick. She was warm, the room was spinning around her, and a vague nausea had settled in the pit of her stomach.
     “…Others start with loss of motor control,” he explained. “Others lose control of their bodily functions.”
     Amber burst out laughing. “They piss and shit their pants?”
     Mercedes felt an ominous rumble in her stomach. She listened to the conversation in the background apprehensively, rubbing her tummy softly. She suddenly felt weak, her muscles rubbery. She felt both sick and giddy. She was beginning to worry something was very wrong.
     Amber coiled herself around the man and smiled. The whole perverted “traditional family values” of the entire situation-- a gorgeous man with two beautiful wives and a helpless, sexy adult baby—was wonderfully naughty. She kissed him, rubbing herself up against him… wanting him so bad it was almost painful.
     Mercedes felt a trickle down her chin, She reached up and touched it gently, cold fear gripping her heart as she realized she was drooling. She her fight or flight response kicked in: she wanted to stand and run, but her muscles were slack like melted butter. She could only sit quivering like an enormous pile of jell-o. There was a strong, sharp cramp in her stomach. She felt a sudden stirring in her, followed by an urgent need to move her bowels. She clenched and squeezed her buttocks closed, trying to ride it out, but the pressure just kept increasing.
     Her jaw dropped, and she emitted a small noise as she involuntary released a series of small, moist lumps into the seat of her panties. She blushed and began fighting back tears.
     The stench emerged immediately. Tiffany Looked over at her, crinkled her nose and giggled knowingly. Mercedes blushed fiery red, feeling the mush in the seat of her panties, the greasy paste between her butt-cheeks, all hot and gooey.
     She wanted to stand up and run, but she couldn’t make her body obey her commands. She sat shivering in the middle of the living room floor with a big load of poop in her pants. The stench enveloped her, spreading throughout the room. Over on the couch, Amber wrinkled her nose. She sniffed the air, gagged. “What’s that smell?!”
     She slid off the man’s lap, sniffed her way over to the blanket. Mercedes held herself as still as possible, trying to come up with a plan. She was desperate to avoid detection, but she doubted she could even crawl away at this point. Her heart froze as Amber came closer, passing Mercedes on her way over to Tiffany. She felt a flash of relief, but she knew it would be easy enough to figure out it wasn’t Tiffany who was stinking up the place. Her stomach rolled: she realized, with a sick feeling, that she still had to go.
     “Did you poop your pants little girl?” Amber scolded Tiffany, who for her part could only suck her pacifier and shake her head. “No? Are you lying to mommy?” Amber asked. She reached out, took the back of Tiffany’s diapers, and pulled them out at the waistband so she could peek inside. “Hmm,” she mused, “you’re not the culprit after all… but who…”
Hyper-aware of the warm load in her pants, Mercedes held herself perfectly still, even as Amber cast a suspicious eye in her direction. She gave a tentative sniff in and recoiled, gagging. “OH MY GOD! IS THAT YOU?!”
     Mercedes cringed. She glanced over her shoulder: the man sat on the couch, watching the spectacle with a detached expression; behind him, the woman recorded everything, as still and silent as a shadow. Amber slid over toward her and sniffed. “Oh man, it is!”
     “Looks like we know who got the second dose,” the man said quietly from the couch.
     Mercedes gasped for air, feeling faint. She couldn’t’ believe how much her fortunes had changed in the past couple of minutes. She glanced at Tiffany, who giggled at her: even in her diminished state, she still grasped the humor of “mommy” messing her pants like a baby. Mercedes looked away, unable to bare the humiliation of having the girl she had so thoroughly dominated mere minutes before having a front-row seat to her disgrace. “Did you poop in your pants?” Amber asked seriously.
    She gave Amber a guilty look. The thought about denying it for a second—trying to convince her it was Tiffany. She was still trying to think of a way to convince her when her stomach lurched again. She gasped, a muddy, bubbling squelch emerging from the seat of her panties. She could only blush and stare at Amber’s shocked expression as she added further installment to the load in her panties. She bent, gave and involuntary grunt, and added to the mess in her underwear with a sizable fart.
     Incredulous, Amber pushed Mercedes up on all fours, raising her skirt up over her waist. She gasped when her silken, zebra print panties came into view, their seat bulging and lumpy, the back panel clearly discolored. “How could you?!” Amber scolded, giving Mercedes a smack on the back of her thigh, making her jump and yelp. Amber tried to suppress a grin, fully understanding now, fully shifting into her role. “I’m gonna clean up this dirty bum of yours, young lady, and if you don’t behave ‘mI gonna spank your little bottom when I’m done!”
     Amber pulled her to her feet. Her heart jack-hammering, Mercedes forced herself to stand still and hold her skirt up over her waist. Amber tisked and inspected her bulging, messy panties. “Disgraceful,” she muttered, tugging down the soiled underpants to reveal her bottom and the mucky, brown smear across it. Amber ditched the dirty panties into the nearby trash, leaving Mercedes standing by with her messy backside on full display. Amber approached baby-wipes in hand. Mercedes heard the lid open, then gasped as moments later she felt the cold cloth between the cheeks of her bottom. “Stay still, little girl!” Amber ordered, discarding the used wipe and pulling out another. Mercedes bit her lip and forced herself to stand still as she felt the wipe against her bare skin. Her ample rump had been well and truly smeared with a gooey brown mess, but Amber soon had her clean and fresh.
     Mercedes stood by in a daze; she knew she’d been slipped the regression drug, knew she should be terrified… should, in fact, be running away in terror. But she felt so weak and disoriented, her mind so clouded, even the humiliation she felt at having messed herself felt far away, like it was something that happened to another person. Amber tugged off her clothes, leaving her standing there nude and bewildered. She turned, saw the man watching. There was no amusement or arousal or pity or anything else in his eyes. If he felt anything about the strange tableaux before him, there were no clues about it in his eyes.
     She turned toward the voice. On the blanket, Amber had spread out a big, thick diaper on the floor. With a seductive smirk, she beckoned Mercedes toward her. “C’mere, honey. Come to Mama,” she husked, smiling and reaching out to touch her bare leg when she came near.
     Something started welling up in Mercedes. Moments ago, she’d been in complete control, dominating and diapering a fully grown young woman and loving every minute of it. Now, the tables had been turned completely, and she stood, disgraced, humiliated, and about to be diapered herself. She was crying before she even realized it, tears streaming down her face, smearing her makeup. She knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn’t stop herself from launching into a tantrum. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she stamped her foot and started screaming, overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. “No!” She yelled, “No fair! I s’posed to be the mommy!” she cried before bursting into tears.
     But Amber, having fully shifted into her role as mother of this bizarre little family unit, was resolved. “Now, Mercedes,” she scolded, pulling the girl close, “you remember what I said would happen if you didn’t cooperate?” She took the girl’s wrist firmly, reached behind her and landed a flurry of hard spanks on her luscious bubble-butt. Mercedes squealed and pranced in place in response, realizing how silly she must look, even as she was totally unable to get herself under control. From the floor, Tiffany watched the proceedings and giggled as Mercedes was spank-walked over to the open diaper. “Get that chubby tushy on that diaper, young lady, or you’re going to be eating off the mantle for the rest of the week,” she smirked, delighted with her spot-on delivery of one of her own mother’s well-used spanking threats.
     Mercedes stamped and pouted. She wanted to resist, but her sore derrière and the steely look in Amber’s eyes convinced her it wouldn’t be a good idea. Sticking a thumb in her mouth, she lowered her stinging rump onto the thirsty pad, gasping as her plump buns landed on the cushy surface. She sniffled and sucked her thumb for comfort. Amber grinned, crawling toward her like a hungry panther. Mercedes quietly cried and sucked her thumb as Amber eased her onto her back. Sprinkling powder onto her privates, Amber maintained eye-contact as she patted it in. Mercedes shifted in response, arousal beginning to creep in on her anger and embarrassment. “Legs up,” Amber cooed brightly, taking Mercedes ankles and lifting them over her head, grinning as her full, rounded backside came into view. “Look at that cute little bottom,” she laughed, delivering a series of firm pats to each cheek, making Mercedes blush before she powdered her tushy.
     And that was it—moments later, Mercedes groaned as the front panel was pulled up tight against her crotch and taped snugly around her waist. Dazed, she was pulled into a sitting position, her tushy still tingling beneath her in her hot diapers. Her dress was pulled up over her arms, leaving her nude, except for her big diaper. Her heart drumming in her ears, she sat passively as Amber threaded her arms through the pretty little dress she’d picked out for her. A bonnet was tied under her chin, a pacifier was popped into her mouth…
     And when it was all over, there she was— reduced from luscious sex-goddess to blubbering adult infant in a matter of moments. Amber grinned and laughed and gushed over her, thoroughly delighting in Mercedes’ embarrassing diaper demotion.
     Mercedes sucked her soother and cried quietly; she was fully aware, knew that she was an adult trapped in an unresponsive body, remembered every detail of her identity (though she noticed with a cold stab of fear, that even that was beginning to fade). She couldn’t believe how fast it had fallen apart; how quickly she went from sexy, dommie mommy to a drooling, over-grown baby.
     She looked at Tiffany, feeling another surge of embarrassment when she realized how her regression mirrored her own. The girl smiled at her, sensing that she was shy. She crawled over, big diaper waggling back and forth behind her, and settled in beside her former tormentor. Tossing her arms around her, she squeezed Mercedes tightly and kissing her cheek. Mercedes blushed, realizing that the childish gesture had actually made her feel better. She looked at Tiffany and smiled shyly. Earlier she had thoroughly dominated her, stripping away her adulthood, infantilizing her, and forcing her to orgasm.
     Now all she wanted was kindness and understanding from her—pity for her weakened condition.
     Smiling angelically, Tiffany leaned in and planted a sweet kiss on her new sister’s lips…

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Holy Hyper-Active Spam Filter!

If you've sent me an e-mail in the last week or so and haven't gotten a reply, it probably got caught in my stupid, trigger-happy spam filter. I think I've got them all out now. if you don't hear from me within a week or so, contact me again.


Monday, February 20, 2012

Mama's Girl: Saturday Morning

Part 1

(I've decided to post this next chapter in three smaller parts- Morning, Afternoon, and Night. Enjoy!)



     Her eyes fluttered open.
     The sunlight filtered through the crib-bars cast slats of shadow across her face. Kim yawned lazily, the pacifier dropping from her mouth. Groaning, she stretched, diaper crinkling below her. She wasn’t wet, but her bladder was full, on the verge of bursting. She pressed her thighs together tightly, squishing the thick padding between them up against her bald crotch.
     Her mother was already up… the bed was made up neat, and mommy was nowhere in sight. Kim spotted the baby monitor on the bedside table… apparently she’d decided to let her sleep in this morning.
     She yawned and scratched her belly and decided to try and wait it out. She let her thoughts drift, trying to find something else to occupy her mind. She didn’t want to think about Nick (just picturing him in her mind made her legs tremble), but it was impossible to avoid. There was no way they’d be going out that night—that much Kim was certain of. The only questions left were whether or not he could wait a week… and whether or not he’d want too. Her mother did have a knack for embarrassing her in front of her boyfriends.
     Kim shifted and squirmed, reaching down and pressed her hand against the crotch of her diaper. Squirming on her back, she was approaching her limits. She briefly thought about trying to hold it a little longer, but quickly decided she was reaching her breaking point… and the last thing she wanted to worry about this morning was a wet diaper. “Mama!” she called into the baby monitor urgently. “Mama! Can you hear me? I’ve gotta go potty!” She waited, laying perfectly still and listening for some sort of response.
     Moments later, the door opened, and Kim’s mother entered with a big grin. “Morning sweetie. Did you sleep well?”
     “Yes mommy,” she said, nodding. “Mama? Can I please use the potty?”
     “Of course you can baby!” she replied sweetly. She unlatched and opened the door in the side of the crib, helping Kim crawl out. She reached out and pressed her palm against the crotch of Kim’s diapers, finding them dry. “Good girl! You kept your pampers clean and dry all night!” Smiling, she took her blushing daughter’s hand and led her down the hallway and into the living room, where her big-girl potty sat in the center of the room.
     Waddling as fast as her diapers would allow, Kim rushed into the living room.
     Her jaw dropped, eyes widening in horror: sitting at the coffee table was a middle age woman and a younger girl, clearly mother and daughter. The woman looked at her with smug understanding, the girl with amused contempt. She was younger than Kim by at least a few years; Kim estimated her to be around 18 or 19 years old, and very pretty. She turned red, then crimson when she saw the baby monitor on the coffee-table between them—they must’ve heard every word she and her mother had said. Kim wanted to melt into the carpet.
     She heard a tearing sound, then felt a cool breeze on bare skin below, making the flesh of her thighs go goose pimply. She realized her mother had come up behind her and stripped her diaper off, leaving her nude below the hem of her wispy baby-doll nighty. She noticed the girl snickering at her bare pussy and timidly reached down to cover herself.
     “Sweet-Pea, this is Ms. Ives from across the hall and her daughter, Mia,” her mother said casually, as though her daughter hadn’t just entered the room in a diaper and wasn’t presently standing in front of everyone bottomless.
     “Hello there, dear,” Ms. Ives smiled at her condescendingly, “your mommy’s told us so much about you.”
     Mia just smirked and rolled her eyes. She made absolutely no effort to hide how ludicrous she clearly thought Kim was.
     Kim just stood uncomfortably for a moment before finally whispering softly: “pleased to meet you ma’am.”
     She heard the lid of the potty go up behind her. She turned to see her mom grin and pat the seat. “Come on sweetie; show our guests how you potty like a big girl.”
     She wanted to refuse. She thought briefly about running down the hall to the bathroom, but realized it would probably only earn her a spanking in front of the guest. She was getting desperate. Frantically, she scurried over to the potty and slammed her dainty hiney down on the big, plastic potty. Her bladder burst, unleashing a long gush, thundering against the bowl. “AHHHH…” she sighed, humiliated and relieved. She forced her eyes open. Ms. Ives grinned condescendingly. Mia openly laughed, shocked and delighted by the scene. Kim’s mother massaged her daughters shoulders and whispered soothingly too her.
     At last, she dribbled to a stop. Her mother tore off a couple of strips of toilet paper, reached between Kim’s thighs and wiped her dry. “Good girl!” She praised. “What a good girl you are!” Kim looked into the smirking face of Mia and nearly died. To be treated like an infant in front of a girl who was younger than her was the ultimate humiliation.
    The nighty was pulled up over her head; She rose from the potty, only to be promptly laid naked on the floor for a fresh diaper. She squeezed her eyes shut as her legs were lifted and her bare bottom was powdered thoroughly, trying to drown out the giggles from the couch. She sighed as her mother pinned a cloth diaper around her waist, then tugged a pair of frilly baby bloomers over-top. She covered her breasts and sat shyly, waiting for her mother to get her dress and hold it open so she could slip her arms in.
     “Oh, that’s so pretty!” Ms. Ives gushed when she saw Kim in her frilly pink finery. The dress was a lacy creation of bows and ruffles, the epitome of infantile femininity; yet it also exposed her bare legs and left her diapered bottom protruding from under its hemline. Once she was dressed, Kim’s mom made her put on a little show for the neighbors, turning this way and that and showing off her dress and diapers.
     Kim cringed when she heard her mother announce: “Breakfast time!” She groaned , finding herself sitting cross-legged on the floor in her fluffy diapers with her bib around her neck, her mother feeding her a huge bowl of her special oatmeal.
     Kim’s mom had developed the oatmeal herself when Kim was a little girl. Due to her digestive condition, it was vital that Kim keep regular. It was made with a special kind of oat, one almost five times more fibrous than any other. Consequently, it could absorb more fluid and expand more than any other oatmeal, thus ensuring Kim was always very regular. Combine with the “special formula” she was given, designed to promote absorption, lubricate and stimulate her bowels, her mommy could essentially control when and where Kim had a bowel movement.
     Kim ate down the brown slop quickly, embarrassed by the stares and giggles of the guests. Her mother spooned it up carefully, but she still wound up with oatmeal all over her face and down her bib. She ate quickly and quietly before sitting still for her mother to clean off her face with a cloth.
     At last Kim stood in the center of the room, her face clean and shiny, her mother beaming at her proudly. She looked over at Mia: Kim’s heart froze when she heard her mother say: “Why don’t you show Mia your room, honey?”

     Kim hadn’t changed her room since she was twelve; it was pink and white, the dressers and shelves lined with dolls and little girl playthings. Her bed was pink and lacy, piled high with satin pillows and stuffed animals. Kim sat on the sheets nervously, trying to hide her big bulky diaper and watching Mia pace the room and inspect her belongings with a skeptically dismissive smirk. She examined the “Little Mermaid” poster on her wall with a snort, making Kim blush. She was so uncomfortable: the tension was palatable. Her dress was hot, her diapers even more so. “We could, um, watch some TV…” she said uncertainly.
     Mia scoffed derisively. She stood in front of her TV. “What movies have you got?” she asked, picking one of the cases up off the top. “’Beauty and the Beast,’ huh?” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she put it back. Kim blushed and looked down at her feet. Though she was more than five years younger than her, Kim still felt very intimidated by Mia. She seemed so much more mature and grown up to her. She wished she knew what to say… that she didn’t look like such a dorky little girl. She realized she was desperate for Mia to like her—to treat her like an equal. She wracked her brain, trying to think of something, anything adult for them to do.
     “We could… um… we, uh…”
     Mia flopped down on the bed next to her, ignoring her. “How about you let me see those sexy little diapers of yours?” she asked, not even waiting for an answer before she simply reached forward, took the hem of Kim’s dress and flipped it up. Kim squeaked in protest, reaching out to stop her. Mia smacked the back of her hand firmly. “Stay still!” she scolded, lifting Kim’s skirt to her chest. She sat back and tried to hold still while Mia poked and prodded the front of her diapers. “That’s really weird.” She looked right into Kim’s eyes; she wanted to flinch, but she couldn’t look away. “You’re what—25? 26? You still let your mommy put you in diapers?”  She pressed the padding into the girl’s crotch. Kim shivered.
     “Show me your ass,” Mia commanded, taking her arm and pulling Kim forward onto her hands and knees. She flipped the skirt up onto her back, giggling at the wide expanse of her bulging, ruffled fanny. “Look at that little bottom,” she smirked, running her hand over Kim's padded rump, feeling it’s soft, fluffy material under hear palm, “so cute in this great, big diaper.” Kim blushed and cringed as Mia playfully fondled and patted her butt.  “Does your mama spank you?”
     Kim froze. She prayed Mia wouldn’t force her to say. She felt a medium hard whack against her padded tushy. “Huh? Does she spank your cute little butt?” another whack. “I would,” she said lustily, rubbing and patting Kim’s diapered backside. “If you were mine, I’d put you over my knee… I’d pull down your little diapers…” She bent down close and whispered in Kim’s ear “and then I’d spank your little bottom until it was bright red …” She slipped a hand down the back of her bloomers and pressed her fingers against her crotch. In her diapers, Kim was getting very moist… she cursed her body for betraying her once again.
     “You little perv!” Mia scolded with a mocking laugh, “are you getting off on this?!” There was amused outrage in her voice, but between Kim’s legs, she worked her fingers harder and faster. Kim was humiliated, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to move. All she could was waggle her big diapered bottom and groan in response to Mia’s teasing manipulations. “Aw, does widdle baby wike dat?” she cooed, smirking. “Is dat making widdle baby wet?” she giggled. “Hmm? Is mommy Mia gonna have to change a soggy widdle diaper?”
     Suddenly, Mia tackled her, forcing her over on her side. Kim struggled, but the younger girl was bigger and stronger than she was. Mia forced her onto her back and sat on her diapered pelvis before taking her wrists and pinning them to the mattress, effectively immobilizing her. Kim struggled fruitlessly against her tormenter, succeeding only in exhausting herself. Mia bent down close, until their lips were nearly touching, until Kim could feel the warmth and moisture of Mia’s breath on her face as she whispered: “You’re like a great big dolly, aren’t you?” She sealed her lips around Kim’s; she lay, paralyzed, as Mia had her way with her. “A big, baby dolly for me to play with…” Gathering Kim’s slender wrists in one hand, she reached down with the other and felt her captive’s small, perfectly formed breasts through her dress. Kim whimpered in response.
     The door began to open. Quickly, Mia slid off of her and settled with her back against the wall, looking nonchalant. Kim lay on the bed, dazed. Her mom walked in with a smile. “Are you two having a good time in here?”
     “Yes ma’am.” Mia smiled sweetly. Kim rolled over, pushed herself up on her arms. She was trembling—she hoped mommy wouldn’t sense anything was up—her mom had an uncanny ability to sense whenever anything was wrong.
     “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that, Mia, because I’m going out  for a while tonight, and I wonder if you’d mind babysitting?”
     Kim nearly wet herself—she shot a frightened glance at Mia. The girl smiled malevolently. “I would love to!” she said gleefully.
     “Really? You don’t mind changing diapers, do you?”
     Kim was so embarrassed she thought she’d burst into flame. “No, I’m totally OK with that,” Mia said, trying to stifle a laugh.
     “Great! Can you be here at seven?”
     “Yes, ma’am.”
     Kim felt sick. “That’s great!” said her mother. “In the meantime: I think your mom wants to see you back at your place.”
     Mia rose. “Thanks very much for the coffee.” She tickled Kim under the chin. “See you later, cutie.” She winked and turned and left the room.
     Kim fixed her eyes on the bedspread. This couldn’t get any worse.
     Her mom smiled at her. “Ready to run some errands, sweetheart?”

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Mama's Girl: Friday

Been working on this one off and on for a while now, finished the first part in a wild burst of energy last night.  It’s the first of three parts; not sure if I want to continue this or Adult Entertainment, so here’s what I’ll do: the story that gets the most comments, here or via e-mail, will be continued first. So if you like it, be sure to comment.



Natalie Portman as Kim


     The subway rocked under her feet—Kim shifted nervously and checked her watch, feeling her stomach roll. She was only a few hours late, but she knew it was still tempting fate. She knew she should have phoned home first, but her friend Beth had been there and she didn’t want to look ridiculous in front of her… after all, how many girls her age had to phone their mommies before they went for a few drinks after work?
     She was now beginning to regret her willfulness, though… the weekend was coming up, and she had a date with Nick the next night. The last thing she wanted was to be grounded. She saw her cheeks color red in the window of the subway car. Unconsciously, she reached back and touched her bottom, rubbing it a bit through the seat of her trousers as she wondered how many girls her age were still turned over their mother’s knees and given a bare bottom spanking for perceived misbehavior. Not to mention her mother’s more… unorthodox methods of behavior modification.
       She felt her belly roll again-- touched it gently. She sighed and prayed it wasn’t happening again, prayed it was only the alcohol disagreeing with her. With a chill, Kim felt her bowels begin to stir. She rubbed her stomach, hoping to sooth it, but it was no use. She clenched her butt-cheeks tightly and hoped she’d be able to make it home. She was almost to her stop, and from there it was only a block and a half home.
     But by the time she reached her station, she knew it wasn’t meant to be… She was desperate, flexing her glutes tightly and shifting in place as subtly as possible. She hated using public restrooms, but she’d learned over the years (she shivered, trying not to think of her many embarrassing accidents) that at a cretin point, she had to put her pride aside and find the nearest toilet.
     The doors slid open; Kim was one of the first on the platform. She rushed, pushing her small, slender body through the crowd. She was a tiny girl, little over five feet, and she had to fight especially hard to make it through the crowds at rush hour.
     Her urge increased. Clenching her buttocks tightly, Kim pushed her way through the crowd as best as she could. She reached back and discreetly pressed her palm against her butt-crack. Her insides gurgled incessantly and she knew she was on the verge of an accident. She was hot now in spite of the cold air—she pushed a lock of hair out of her face. She broke into a wide grin when she saw the ladies room door.
      “Excuse me!” she exclaimed, pushing her way through the crowd. “Pardon me! Oh, please let me through!” She pushed through the door, her desperation entering its final phase. She pressed her palm against her bottom tightly… it was going to be a photo finish.
     There was a group of women about her age standing at the mirror, chatting and fixing their make-up. Blushing, Kim rushed past them. They were the sort of girls who’d always intimidated her in school, always bigger than her, and impossibly mature. She put a lot of time and effort into her make-up and clothes, trying to make herself seem more adult, but the truth was, Kim had always felt like a little girl trying to play dress up and blend into the adult world-- like no matter how hard she tried, it was never good enough… she could never compete with women who were so much more effortlessly mature than she was.
     She rushed past them, blushing when she realized they were all so much taller than she was. What are they, she thought, hurrying into the stall , models? The girls looked up and stared as she ran past and slammed the stall behind her.
     Locking the door, Kim threw her purse to the floor, and began frantically undoing her pants. She tugged them down, revealing a pair of cotton candy pink little-girl brief style panties beneath, the kind a six year old would wear, covered in little rainbows.
     There was a knock outside, almost making Kim jump out of her skin. “Everything ok in there?” It must’ve been one of the women from the sink, her voice full of concern. By way of response, Kim spun and slammed her rear-end down on the toilet.
     Once, Kim had gone to see a movie with her friend Beth. In one scene, two boys were chased into the girl’s bathroom and hid in one of the stalls. She remembered how everyone around her brayed in laughter when a pair of pretty girls came in, went into the stalls on opposite sides of the heroes, and began having noisy diarrhea- how she blushed and cringed as Beth and everyone else howled, watching the boys react in horror while the girls played “Battleshits,” farting and plopping and filling the toilet, knowing that it was not unlike how she often sounded when she suffered what her mother referred to as one of her “flare ups”.
     It was all she could think of now as her ass exploded loudly; she grunted involuntarily as she lost control, farting a loose, sloppy mess into the bowl beneath her.
     “Oh my God!” cried the voice just outside the door, busting into laughter along with her friends. Kim struggled to hold it; clenching her cheeks, crossing her ankles, and straining, with all her might, trying to keep from embarrassing herself any further.
     But the cramps were incessant, and Kim gave a cry as she farted and gushed a torrent of diarrhea into the water. The women outside the stall broke into shocked laughter as Kim played a one-woman game of Battleshits, farting and splattering and plopping loudly into the bowl. Outside the women roared with laughter as Kim erupted flatulently into the toilet, uncontrollably voiding her bowels into the water below. She tapped her feet, gasped and grunted, unleashing another round of violent farting and splashing. The stench hit her—she nearly fainted with embarrassment when one of the women outside the stall said “Ew! Smells like something died in here!”  This couldn’t possibly get any worse.
     “Oh my God!” She heard one of them shriek, “Look at her panties!”
     Kim quickly glanced down. She realized her pink little girl panties had been stretched tightly between her ankles, visible the entire time! She shifted uncomfortably and involuntarily farted out another mudslide.
     “Uh! C’mon girls, let’s go!”
     They quickly left. Kim remained seated for another five minutes, but the worst was over. She reached for the toilet paper.
     Her blood ran cold: There were only about 4 squares left on the roll—not nearly enough to clean up after the mess she just made. She tore them off, wiped as carefully as she could, but it was no use. She rooted through her purse, searching for Kleenex or old receipts—something, anything to clean her ass with. Finding nothing, she checked the time on her phone, felt her heart sink—now she was really late. She decided to bite the bullet—flushing, she rose and carefully tugged up her pants and panties. Her stomach rolled—she was still gooey and messy between her cheeks, but there wasn’t much she could do about it now. She could only hope Mommy wouldn’t perform a panty inspection when she got home. Kim pulled up her pants and exited the stall, washed her hands quickly and exited the room.

     She tried to ignore it, but her buttcrack was so itchy. Kim resisted the urge, but finally, about a block from home, she realized it was driving her insane. She reached around and gave a brief, but frantic scratch through her pants, blushing grimly when she realized a truly massive skidmark would be developing in the seat of her pretty panties.
     She practically ran toward the elevator in her building. She stepped inside and quickly hit the button for the top floor. Her rump was itching like mad—she reached behind and scratched again as the doors closed.

     Kim closed the door quietly behind her. The apartment was dark and still, and for a moment, she thought she was home-free… maybe her mother had gone out, or was visiting a neighbor. Maybe she could go to the toilet, clean up quickly and slip on some sweats, toss her stained panties down the incinerator, and be back before—
     “Well, well.”
     Her mother’s voice behind her nearly gave Kim a heart attack. She spun, finding herself face to face with her mother.
     It wasn’t that she was a stern woman. Most of the time she was quite loving and supportive to her daughter, carefully regulating Kim’s dietary needs and monitoring her digestive condition. Kim’s mother had once been an eminent doctor, but she’d left it all behind to take care of Kim and study her rare digestive  condition full time. She literally dedicated her life to her daughter.
     Which I guess is why, Kim reflected, staring into her mother’s angry eyes, she keeps me on such a short leash.
     It was true. Her mother had a strict set of rules, she kept her daughter’s life carefully ordered, and she maintained discipline like a drill sergeant, spanking and grounding Kim  like a teenager for the slightest infraction.
     In fact, truth be told, she had some very unique punishments that she was always willing to implement. She was a slight woman, not much bigger than her daughter, but when she was angry, her eyes went small and dark.
     “Nice of you to join me, finally,” she said, keeping her fury out of her voice. “Nothing to say for yourself?” she asked after a moment. “Where were you young lady?”
     “I went out with Beth,” Kim said quietly.
     “Why didn’t you call?”
     “It was only for a little while, mama,” she whispered.
     “It doesn’t matter sweetheart, you know the rule. You call mommy if you’re not coming straight home from work.” She tilted her head and inspected her. Kim panicked, knowing she could read the guilt on her face. “What’s wrong? C’mon, Kim, out with it: I know there’s something you aren’t telling me.”
     But she could only stare at the floor. “Were you drinking? You know how that upsets your condition, sweetie.” Silence. Kim shifted, blushing, feeling like a naughty little girl, not the young woman that she was. Her mother sighed. “Well, whatever’s wrong, you better hope I don’t find out young lady, because you’re already going to get a spanking before bed tonight for not calling me like that… I was very worried.”
     Kim rolled her eyes and stomped her foot. Her mother put her hands on her hips and snapped: “do you think I’m being unfair, little girl?” she reached around and swatted Kim’s bottom, making her hop and yelp. “You know what? Take down those pants, princess—it’s time for a panty inspection.”
     Kim groaned, but complied, slowly sliding off her shoes. This was what she’d been dreading; if there was a skidmark on the seat of her panties (and there almost certainly was) and her mom saw it (which she almost certainly would) a spanking would be the least of her problems; She’d most likely be grounded all weekend, which meant at very least she wasn’t going to be seeing Nick tomorrow. She undid her pants and slid them down her slender legs, fuming again at the ridiculousness of a woman her age being spanked and grounded. She thought about complaining again, but realized it would probably earn her a longer spanking, and possibly another weekend grounded.
     Finally, Kim stood in front of her mother in her shirttails, panties and socks. Her mother barked “hands on head!’ Kim complied without thinking, blushing furiously as her mother took a walk around her, inspecting her panties from the outside. “Ok, sweet-pea: Take them down for mommy now.”
     Kim sighed and tugged her pretty pink panties with the pretty little rainbows that any second grade girl would be pleased to own down over her firm tushy, letting them fall inside out, and pulled them tight between her knees to keep them from falling. She returned her hands to the top of her head and blushed furiously as her mother turned her critical gaze to the inside of her panties. Kim squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the gasp behind her. “Young Lady!” her mother uttered, giving her a series of stinging spanks to her bare, quivering bottom, making Kim hop in place absurdly with her panties around her knees. “Look at this stain!” she said, cracking her palm against Kim’s jiggling buns. “Utterly disgraceful, Little Girl!”
     “Mommy! OW! Wait, please listen! OWIE!” Kim begged, tears springing to her eyes. “My tummy got upset and I had to use the potty at the train station, and there was no toilet-paper—OW OW OUCH OW!” she cried as her mother landed a flurry of smacks to her bare bottom.
     “A likely story! You aggravated your condition with alcohol, then you were too drunk and lazy to wipe yourself properly!
     “No mommy, it wasn’t like that! OW!” She squealed as her mother landed one final spank, then tugged her panties down, letting them fall around her ankles.
     “Just look at the state of these!” her mother cried, holding up the panties inside out to show Kim the thick swath of poop in her pretty pink panties; a wide, brown stain that ran down almost the entire length of the seat. Kim cringed in humiliation.
     “Get that little bottom into the bathroom, young lady.”  Kim yelped as her mom swatted her bare backside. She ran full speed down the hall, her derriere jiggling wildly behind her the entire way.
     She stood on the cool tile and stared at herself in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, blushing at the sight of her pink butt peeking out from under her shirt, reflected in the medicine chest. Her mother entered a tossed the panties into the garbage. “Those are coming out of your allowance, young lady.” Kim fumed at being reminded that her mother paid her an allowance out of her own bank account.  “Strip,” she ordered.
     Kim complied, removing the shirt. Soon she stood before her mother, completely naked. “Bend over the tub.”
     She did, presenting the pale pink heart of her bottom for inspection. She yelped as her mom swatted her, leaving a handprint on her rump. “Spread your legs.” Kim complied and flushed bright red as she heard her mother tear off a few sheets of toilet paper and felt her slip the wad into her crack and press it against her anus. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out in shame as her mother wiped her butt like a toddler. She discarded the original wad in the toilet and pulled off another. Wipe, wipe, wipe. She paused to check. “Oh what a messy baby,” she chided gently, discarding the wipe and tearing off another. Kim’s eyes crossed with embarrassment as her mother took yet another crack at wiping her butt for her.
     Her mom began to fill the bathtub. She sat Kim on the edge of the tub and brushed her hair. Nude, Kim took in deep breaths, sucking the warm steam into her lungs and tried to relax, tried not to think about what would be coming next. Her mom held her hand and helped her up. Stepping into the water, Kim lowered herself slowly. The water was just on the verge of being too hot—exactly the way she liked it. 
     She sank down into the warm broth and tried to relax. Her mother took a soft wash-cloth, squirted some liquid soap onto it, and worked up a good lather, before she began washing Kim’s back and arms. The girl flushed crimson as she lifted her rump to allow her mother and her invasive washcloth access to her buttcrack and anus, which she cleaned vigorously. Shamefully, Kim realized she was getting aroused, especially when mom reached around and began scrubbing her pussy. She giggled as the rag tickled her belly; her mother’s clinical demeanor slipping, she allowed herself a grin and tickled her daughter’s tummy, then her armpits, before moving onto her breasts. Kim shut her eyes and wriggled her toes, determined not to show her arousal. She focused on the spanking she was probably minutes away from getting, the thought cooling her desire to a low simmer. Finally, her mother announced they were done and pulled the plug. Standing before her, lovely and nude, her body glowing a delicious pink, Kim’s mom dried her off with a big fluffy towel. She squealed and giggled, the ultra-soft fibers tickling her entire body.
     At last, Kim stood before her beaming mother in her birthday suit. She blushed and lowered her gaze to the floor, covering her crotch shyly. “Now young lady,” she said with a wolfish grin, “I want you to march that little tushy into my room and wait quietly on the bed until I get there. Go on—scat!”
     She turned Kim toward the door and delivered a hard slap to her rump. Kim yelped and bolted from the room, running bare-naked down the hall. Her mother grinned as she watched her daughter’s adorable bare rump jiggle its way down the hall and disappear into her bedroom. She turned and went to work cleaning the bathroom.
     Kim sighed, throwing her naked body onto her mother’s bed, shivering as her flesh, still radiating warmth from her bath, hit the cool bedspread. She stretched and rolled over on her back, wriggling her bare bottom on the cool, slick sheets. She felt so strange-- almost giddy, as though she were drunk. She cast her gaze to the corner of the room, to the oversized crib right next to her mother’s bed-- more of a single bed with bars and a door. Where I’ll probably be sleeping tonight, she thought with a pout.
     She flipped over on her belly, shivering when her nipples made contact with the cool, smooth bedspread, and hardened beneath her.
     She heard the door open behind her. Kim didn’t look, trying to deny the inevitable. Her mother crossed the room and sat next to her. Kim felt her mom’s fingers in her hair gently. “Pretty baby…” She bent down and kissed her daughter’s cheek sweetly. “You’re still my pretty little baby, aren’t you?” Kim moaned, but her mother giggled, reaching out and giving her daughter’s soft bare rump a squeeze. “Yes you are! You’re always going to be mama’s pretty little baby.” She patted Kim’s bare rump firmly. “Alright, sweetheart,” she said kindly but firmly,” it’s time to face the music. Stand up. Come on, let’s go,” she encouraged, giving her bottom another firm pat. Groaning, Kim complied.
     She stood in front of her mother, naked and quivering, utterly at her mercy. “Mama, please,” she begged softly, but her mother simply shushed her.
     “C’mon, darling; over my knee right now,” she ordered firmly, barely suppressing a smirk as the girl lowered her naked body across her lap. Kim groaned, knowing she must look exceedingly silly across her mom’s lap with her bare butt stuck up in the air behind her, perfectly presented for a spanking. Her mother tapped her bare cheeks firmly, making her buns wobble.
     She began the spanking, firmly applying her palm to Kim’s squirming backside in even measured strokes, making her pout and squirm. Kim tried to take her punishment stoically, but soon she was kicking and howling as her mom first turned her tushy a mouth-watering pink, then a sore, angry red.  Kim wriggled and whined, but her mother had a firm grip on her—there would be no escaping this punishment for her whiny little brat of a daughter. She smirked and stepped up the pace of the spanking, really making Kim kick and scream. In a last, desperate attempt to save her ass, she thrust her palm back to cover herself. Her mother simply took her wrist and pinned her hand at the small of her back. Her daughter now immobilized, she took a moment to rub and squeeze her little bottom before launching into the final salvo of spanks, delivered quick and hard and all at once, designed to take her to her limits. Kim scissored her feet in the air behind her and yowled, her mother really blistering her backside, making her cheeks wobble and turn red.  Kim squeezed her eyes shut and fought back tears, unable to stop a single droplet from trickling down her cheeks and onto the bedspread…
     And then, just as she was about to go over her limit and start bawling, it was over. Kim hung limply over her mother’s lap, her bottom radiating stinging, prickling heat. She lay like a rag-doll, oo-ing and ah-ing softly to herself as her mother caressed her hot pink tushy, squeezing and patting the downy soft cheeks. “Stand up baby,” she commanded softly.
     Kim climbed to her feet and stood before her mother, naked and vulnerable, feeling smaller than usual. Her mother watched her with just the smallest hint of a smirk; Kim covered her pussy bashfully; she could feel both sets of cheeks glowing with a different type of heat in the dim light. Her mother patted her thigh. “Come sit in my lap, baby,” she said softly, holding out her arms toward her. Slowly, as though she were hypnotized, Kim crossed the space between them and sat her small, naked body in her mother’s lap. She felt her mother’s arms enfold her in their embrace, pulling her into the woman’s warm bosom. She felt one of her arms adjust, felt a warm hand on her well spanked tushy, rubbing and patting soothingly.
     She suddenly realized she was crying. She pulled herself even closer and let go, sobbing into her mother’s warm embrace.

     After she finally stopped crying, they just sat there and cuddled for a while. When she was finally calmed, her mother patted her rump and said the words she’d been dreading: “Ok, sweetheart, let’s get you ready for bed.”
     She stood and kneaded her sore bottom, waiting for her mother to rise before spreading herself out on the bed again, stretching down onto her belly like a cat, her bare, spanked bottom jutting into the air behind her. She lay perfectly still, her mother bustling about the room around her, gathering Kim’s sleepwear.  She felt the bed depress when her mother sat next to her. “I’m going to take your temperature,” she whispered softly, making Kim cringe with embarrassment. Moments later, she felt a finger coated in gel gently going in between her cheeks, greasing her sensitive little anus. And then, suddenly, there was the thermometer pushing its way home. She gasped and fought the urge to clench, the cool glass tube making her shiver and wriggle and feel all tickly inside. She realized she was getting aroused again, but tried to fight it.
     A few minutes crawled by. Kim willed herself to lie perfectly still the cold instrument in her rear-end making the rest of her body feel even warmer in contrast. Her mother cupped her crack, the thermometer sticking out from between her fingers.
    She grunted as, without warning, the thermometer was pulled from her bottom. Her mother pronounced her temperature to be slightly elevated. “Probably just from the bath,” she declared, setting the thermometer aside, “but just the same, I think its best you take it easy for a couple of days”
     Kim’s heart sank, even though she’d been expecting the next announcement since she’d left the bar earlier in the evening—another lifetime ago for Kim.
     “You’re grounded young lady,” her mother announced firmly. Kim groaned, her mother ignored her and rolled her naked daughter onto her back. “Until Monday morning at least.”
     That’s a relief, She thought with a sigh, lifting her legs high into the air at her mother’s command to allow her to sprinkle talc onto her upturned bottom. She sighed as it was patted in; she hated to admit it, but it did sooth the sting of the spanking.
     She felt her mother take her legs and lift them into the air. Her bottom was lowered—not to the cool, slippery surface of the bedspread, but to the thick, thirsty pads of a diaper. The padding was pulled up between her legs and taped in place expertly. Kim sighed and sat up, looking down to find herself in diapers once again. “Arms up!” Kim complied and found herself in an ultra short baby doll nighty with a slit in the back for easy diaper checks. “Open!” a pacifier was pushed between her lips. “Now hold still…” her mother ordered, banding her hair up in pig-tails.
     Finished, her mother stood back and beamed proudly at her handy-work. From the bed, Kim stared back, dazed. The contrast between her beautiful, obviously adult features and body and her infantile clothes created a disorienting effect. It was almost like she wasn’t real.
     “You look adorable!” her mother cooed. She sat next to Kim on the bed and wrapped her arms around her. “Here,” she said pulling Kim to her feet, “let me have a look at you!” Kim reluctantly got to her feet, turning and posing and putting on a little fashion show for her grinning mother. With her sexy bare legs and heart-breakingly lovely features, she could have been a model, but the big, fluffy diaper and cute little girl dress made her look like nothing but an overgrown baby. She fidgeted with her hem and sucked her soother. She felt so small and helpless.
     “OK, honey, bedtime.” Kim’s mom rose from the bed, unlatched and opened the door in the side of her crib. Kim pouted, but her mother was firm; “come on, Kim—bedtime.” She took the girls hand firmly and led her toward the crib, ushering her through the door with a couple of pats to her padded backside.  She closed and latched the door behind her. Kim clutched the bars and looked out at her mother pleadingly. She laughed and tickled her daughter under her chin through the bars. “Sweet dreams, princess,” she grinned. “Mommy’s going to watch some TV; I’ll be back in a bit.” She turned off the light and shut the door.
     In the dark, Kim pouted and sat back on the mattress. Now what?
     She reclined with a sigh, settling in amongst the stuffed animals to pout about her helplessness. Was this her destiny? How long would she live like this—suspended between womanhood and infancy? Maybe she really was nothing but a helpless big baby, grown old, but not grown up.
     She reached down the front of her diaper and began playing with herself.

Part Two

Monday, February 13, 2012

Adult Entertainment Part 1

OK, here it is, remember to comment if you like it.

Adult Entertainment





(This story is not intended to be snotty criticism of regression themed videos or the actresses who appear in them. It is not an accurate representation of the adult film industry. It is no way based in reality or real people and is not intended to represent in any way the people who make, star in, or distribute regression videos, which I happen to enjoy. In fact, here are some of my favorite producers:

So, with all that said, please enjoy the story.)

     “Shit! Fucking figures!” Jenna banged the wheel angrily. Finally, after an hour and a half, she’d made it. Shifting into park, she pulled her phone from her bag. She dialed her agent and slid out the door, slamming it behind her. “Jared, you fucker! You better call me as soon as you get this! Those directions you gave me were retarded!” She walked up the front toward the door. The mansion loomed before her. She had to admit, the place was pretty impressive, though the location left a little to be desired. “I was driving around out here for over an hour! Now I’m late! If they cut me… I mean, if I don’t get paid tonight… we’re through in the morning you little shit!”
     She went up the steps with a heavy sigh. “It’s 10:30 now. Call me back as soon as you get this, Jared, seriously. I gotta go.” hanging up, she slipped her phone into her bag, and reached out to ring the bell.
     In fairness to Jared, the place was way out in the boonies. It was a nice place, sure (actually, she thought to herself, it’s fucking gorgeous), but who wanted to live way out in the sticks like this? Not for me, she thought, reaching out to push the bell again after some time had passed. Jenna was the kind of girl who loved to be connected… to feel plugged in. She supposed it was why she’d chosen the business in the first place. It was fun work, and she enjoyed it… but the really high paying jobs had eluded her…
     Until tonight.
     It was supposed to be her big break—the first really well paying job that would be her ticket to the big time. That was the idea, anyway, she though bitterly, stabbing the button with her finger one last time. Seconds ticked away. A minute. She sighed heavily. Now I have to find a new agent, she thought, turning back toward her car.
     Behind her, the door slid open. “Excuse me?”
     She turned. A beautiful woman, elegant, refined, well-dressed… definitely not in the business, Jenna concluded. “Are you Jenna?” Her voice was soft and warm.
     “Yeah,” Jenna answered, “am I too late?”
     “Not at all,” the woman smiled, opening the door. “Come on in.”
     Jenna followed her inside.
     Beautifully decorated and exquisitely furnished, Jenna stared in awe as she was lead through into the living room. She watched the woman pour a glass of wine. But instead of drinking, she handed it to Jenna. “Here you go. Just wait here for a moment; we’ll be right with you.”
     “Oh. OK.”
     The woman bustled down the hall and into a room near the end shutting the door behind her. Jenna sipped her wine—low voices could be heard down the hall.
     Sipping her drink, she studied her surroundings. Bad location or not, I could get used to a place like this, she thought. Besides, I bet it’s got a great view. Maybe a girl like me could get used to country living. She smiled and drank. Let’s not get a head of ourselves, she reasoned. She still didn’t even know what kind of job this was.
     She heard a door shut. She looked up. A tall, handsome man in a suit was coming down the hall. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh please, she thought, let him be my co-star. I’m so sick of shaggy surf-bums.
     “You must be Amber.” She shivered involuntarily at his smooth rich voice. She nodded, shaking his hand when he offered it.  “You’re probably eager to get this show on the road.”
     “Ready when you are,” she forced herself to say, hoping she didn’t sound too much like a little girl with a crush.
     “Soon enough. Finish your drink,” he smiled, “we should get you caught up a bit. Why don’t you have a seat?”
     She settled in on the plush couch. He went over to the computer in the corner of the room and began working. “What about the others? My agent told me there would be two other girls?”
     “Three, actually,” he said without looking up. “They’re… already working; you’ll meet them soon enough.”
     “Oh,” she said, cursing Jared once again. She’d missed out on a scene… she could only hope they wouldn’t take it out of her pay.
     “Did your agent tell you about the job?”
     “Not really.”
     “I guess it’s what you’d call a role-play production,” he said.
     “Ah,” she said. A fetish thing. Figures—the money was way too good for anything normal. That’s ok, she thought. She’d been expecting it. “You mean like a Naughty Nurses kind of thing?”
     He smiled. “Not exactly. Here,” he turned on the TV with a remote. “Let me show you some of what we’ve shot so far.”
     He hit a few more buttons on the keyboard. The screen flashed to life. It was the living room: the exact living room that she was sitting in right now. Only where she was sitting, three beautiful, sexy, young women (whom she immediately identified as her co-stars) reclined and sipped glasses of wine not unlike the one she was currently drawing a big drink from now. To the left, the handsome man was seated in a comfortable looking chair, looking relaxed (and seriously cute, she thought). The woman from before was nowhere in sight.
     “You watch this,” the man said, rising from the computer, “I’m going to check on things in the other room.”
     Jenna watched.


          “…. So; before we begin, I guess I should ask if any of you girls are familiar with our company and what we do.”
     “My agent sent me to your website,” said the blonde at the end archly. Amber liked to research her jobs. She’d been in the business for a while (in fact, this was intended to be her last job), she’d seen and done a lot of strange things. But these weirdoes at New Age Productions took the cake. “I liked the one with the secretary and her boss the best. That executive looked really sexy in her diaper,” she smirked, taking another sip of wine.
     The brunette on the end sputtered. “Did you say diaper?!” she was new to the business, still wet behind the ears. She’d done fetish modeling before, she loved bondage and spanking, but diapers were a new one on her.  All of a sudden, Tiffany was nervous; this was the best paying job she’d ever had, but suddenly, she was beginning to have doubts.
     “So this is like regression stuff?” Mercedes asked from the middle of the couch. She’d had friends who’d done it and she’d had offers herself, but it was just too weird for her.  For this kind of money, though, she could get over her reservations.
     “So what’s the story here?” said Amber smugly. Truth was, most of these videos tended to be the same anyway: a sexy female lawyer/beauty queen/teacher is hypnotized/drugged/cursed and is soon crawling around in diapers, babbling in a lame approximation of baby talk. At least half the time the perpetrator winds up joining her in diaper-clad adult infancy.
     “And weren’t there supposed to be four of us?” Mercedes asked. Not that she really cared: She had her own website, she easily had more exposure than these other two skanks combined, and she wasn’t interested in sharing the spotlight any more than necessary.  In a way, finding out they’d be making a regression video was a relief: I think I’d rather change a diaper than fuck these two, she thought to herself.
     “Our fourth guest hasn’t arrived yet. Not to worry, though.” The man smiled. “We can start without her. As for the story, well…” he paused and looked them over, “Let’s just say this one’s a little different than the others.”
      “I suppose three girls at once is pretty ambitious for this outfit, right?” said Amber, cocking an eyebrow.
     (Jenna rolled her eyes. She knew Amber’s type: the aging, pseudo-sophisticate, just on the cusp of getting too old for it, compensating with fake world-weariness. She’d met more than a few like her.)
     “As I said, this scenario is a little different,” he said without missing a beat. He was a cool, cat, this one. “We’re looking to put a sort of ‘reality TV’ spin on this production. One of you has the regression drug slipped in your drink…”
     “Excuse me?” said Mercedes, a trifle nervously.
     “When she regresses, it’ll be about 48 hours before she’s back to normal. The other two girls will be her mommies for the remainder of the weekend.”
     “Well,” Amber sighed, “you did say there’d be some role-play involved.”
     “I think I get it,” said Tiffany uncertainly, “but who’s gonna plah th’ ba’ba?”
     Amber and Mercedes stared. Gasping, Tiffany reached up and touched her throat. “Sumpthin’ wong wit’ mh tongue…” she slurred. She felt a wetness on the right side of her chin. Something dripped onto her chest.
     “OH MY GOD!” Amber shrieked, “she’s drooling!”
     Tiffany reached up and touched her chin, discovering that Amber was right. Amber and Mercedes were staring at her as though she were an alien, as though she had some sort of disease. The man just watched and smiled inscrutably. She thought about how hot he was, blushing at making such a fool of herself in front of him. Wracking her brain, she tried to find the right combination of words to explain herself.
     “A-da abba babba ba!” she babbled brightly. She went pale, reaching up to touch her throat. Mercedes and Amber laughed.
     “Awww!” Mercedes gushed, “That’s so cute!”
     Tiffany shifted and squirmed in her seat, feeling extremely self-conscious. Without noticing, she popped a thumb into her mouth and began sucking. Amber and Mercedes’ harmonized “AAwwww” made her blush fiercely.
     (Jenna watched the screen in amazement. These girls were phenomenal actors—in a business where most people couldn’t even fake an orgasm realistically, here these girls were projecting shock, confusion, fear, and amusement like Meryl Streep in her prime. How were they filming all this? She began to look at the room around her, trying to identify the hidden cameras.)
     The man stood and walked around the table toward her. Tiffany blushed and locked her eyes on the floor in front of her. It was so embarrassing to be acting so silly in front of such a good looking guy. She sucked her thumb and whimpered, confused and a little frightened by the evening’s strange turn of events.
     He came and stood in front of her. Tiffany stared at his shoes, willing herself to become invisible. She felt him tuck a finger beneath her chin. Slowly he tilted her head back; her entire body tingled with embarrassment as he locked eyes with her. Tiffany desperately wanted to look away, but it was almost like her eyes were magnetized to his. He was just so fucking handsome! Her body tingled: she wanted to melt, she wanted to fall into a hole. Above all, she didn’t want to look silly in front of him. She ran her tongue over the squirming thumb between her lips.
     “Come on, sweetheart,” he said warmly. She rose without thinking about it, desperate to please him, desperate for him to like her. “Amber,” he said, never averting his gaze from Tiffany’s face, “would you mind going to my bag over there and laying the blanket down on the floor?” He smiled at her. Tiffany couldn’t help smiling back shyly. “We’ve got to get this little girl into a diaper before she makes a mess.”
     Tiffany’s legs wobbled at the mention of diapers. She knew, on some level, that it was coming, but she still tottered on her high heels, and she would have fallen if the man hadn’t reached out to steady her. “Careful!” he said with a chuckle, holding her upright. “Here, let’s get these silly shoes off,” he laughed, helping her step out of her heels. Barefoot she didn’t even come up to his chin. Blushing, she realized she really did feel like a little girl.
     As Amber laid out the blanket on the floor, the man turned to Mercedes, who’d been watching in stunned silence. “Mercedes, would you take the oil and powder from my bag and put it on the floor, please?”
     She rose slowly in from her spot and moved toward the diaper-bag like someone in a dream. The man took Tiffany’s hand, raised it to his lips and kissed the back before leading her toward the blanket. Tiffany wanted to run, to fight and scream and escape.
     Instead she trotted along behind him like a little puppy, held in place by his hypnotic gaze. He stood her in front of him and smiled. Reaching out, he brushed her hair back, the tips of his fingers brushing her face lightly. “Lay down, honey,” he commanded gently. Tiffany hesitated; fear bubbled inside her, beneath layers of confusion, humiliation, and pure, throbbing arousal. She wanted to run, tried to will her legs to work, to begin pumping and take her away from here. She had the very strong feeling that something essential was being stolen from her.
     But his voice held her in place and compelled her to obey. She lowered herself to the floor, then shifted onto her back on the blanket. She sucked her thumb and eyeballed the man and her co-stars as they walked around her, mighty giants from her perspective on the floor. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so helpless and vulnerable.
     The man knelt in front of her and smiled. Rolling her dress over her hips, he exposed her brief thong. “Those are some very naughty panties, aren’t they, sweetie?” he said in mock indignation. Tiffany could only nod bashfully. Reaching up, he took hold of her tiny panties and tugged them down her legs and off her dainty feet. Behind him, the two women smirked and giggled and whispered to each other, pointing to her smoothly shaved crotch. “I hope you’re watching, ladies,” he said pointedly, “because you’re going to be changing the next one.”
     They settled in on either side of her, Amber looking smug and condescending, Mercedes watching with interest; she had to admit, it was all sexier than she’d imagined it would be. She watched him oil Tiffany’s bottom, thrilling at the absolute power he had over the squirming girl. Maybe this’ll be more fun than I thought; she smiled, watching the handsome man dust Tiffany’s entire body with powder. She smirked… I think I’m going to enjoy changing diapers.
    Soon Tiffany had a diaper taped up around her middle. He pulled the girl into a sitting position on her well-padded backside. The diaper was big and bulky, an exact replica of the sort of pampers you see real babies in every day. It was a strange sensation, but before she had time to think about it, her dress was pulled up over her head, revealing her breasts to the entire room. “Would you ladies like to pick out her outfit?” He stood and opened a nearby closet, revealing a wardrobe of baby clothes for adult-sized women.
     Amber and Mercedes were over in a flash practically screaming with joy as they rifled through the closed, examining, mixing, and matching various items before selecting an outfit. Grinning wickedly, they descended on the helpless Tiffany, dressing her with cruel speed and efficiency.
     (Once they’d finished, Jenna almost laughed: Tiffany did look adorable in a dorky sort of way: She was wearing a pink and white party dress, covered in ultra feminine lace and bows. On her head she sported a big pink bonnet, and over her diaper, a pair of white tights with three rows of frills across the seat. She did look gloriously ridiculous.)
     Once she’d been dressed, Tiffany sat in the middle of the room in a daze. She felt strange—floaty and detached from her own body. Worse, her mind was fuzzy and getting softer by the second. She had to focus hard to keep a hold on her identity. She frowned and sucked her thumb, squirming in her diapers. She was trying to concentrate, the keep all her thoughts and memories in place, but the diapers were so warm and fluffy and they felt so nice against her bottom and naughty parts that it was hard to focus on anything else.
     “Aww! So cute!” Amber cooed mockingly tickling Tiffany under her chin. The girl giggled and squirmed, delighted with the attention. Mercedes held out a cute little plush bear, grinning widely when Tiffany snatched and clutched it to her bosom with an ecstatic gurgle, squeezing and nuzzling it with all her might.
      She knew, somewhere inside, that this wasn’t who she was. She could vaguely remember that she’d been a mature, grown-up, and capable woman when she’d arrived this evening. In fact, there was a very small part of her, deep inside, that was screaming at her to stop acting like such a fool and get out of here. She ignored it, turning over on her hands and knees and playing with the little stuffed bear, sticking her bulky diapered rump up in the air behind her unselfconsciously. She smiled and gurgled to herself, bouncing the bear on the floor.
     Amber watched laughing, delighted with the show. Mercedes kneeled next to Tiffany, watching her play with a strange smile. Reaching out, she touched the girl’s thickly diapered backside, sliding her palm against the cool, smooth plastic. She squeezed and patted, fondling the plump, rounded bottom beneath the layers of plastic and padding. Tiffany moaned and waggled her pampered butt in response. Mercedes slid her fingers down between Tiffany’s legs, pressing the plastic up against her clit and rubbing gently… Tiffany groaned and wiggled her rump appreciatively.
     “So, just how much of a baby is she really?” Mercedes asked, her voice husky and low.
     The man smiled. “Only her mind has been regressed. Her body maintains its adult responses… and appetites.”
     He wasn’t kidding. Mercedes grinned broadly, continuing to work her fingers slowly between Tiffany’s legs, delighting in her absolute power over the regressed little darling in front of her.
     She playfully pushed Tiffany onto her back on the blanket, making her squeal. Mercedes was on her in a moment, pinning her wrists to the floor and staring into Tiffany’s wide eyes with a predatory grin. Tiffany squirmed helplessly on her back, the diaper crinkling beneath her, its plastic seat slipping and sliding on the floor beneath her.
     Holding her wrists with one hand, Mercedes grinned wickedly and began scratching her nails lightly against the soft skin of Tiffany’s underarms.
     The girl exploded into laughter beneath her. She giggled helplessly, pleading with her big round eyes for Mercedes to stop. But she’d already started on the other armpit; Tiffany burst into laughter once more. She kicked and wriggled on her back, the hem of her dress flipped back far enough to reveal her belly button, and below it her huge, bulky diaper, all puffed up around the lower portion of her torso like a giant mushroom. Mercedes attacked her belly, making the girl scream with laughter. Mercedes smiled warmly to herself… She couldn’t believe how much fun it was to tease and torment the helpless adult baby.  She reached up to stroke her face gently. Beneath her flimsy dress, Tiffany’s breasts heaved as she fought to recover her breath. She eyed Mercedes warily, silently pleading with her for mercy. Mercedes bent down and kissed her roughly, reaching up to feel Tiffany’s breasts through her dress. The girl moaned and shifted in response, the diaper crinkling beneath her; clearly, she was enjoying this much more than the tickling.
     “Poor baby,” Mercedes whispered, rubbing the front of the girl’s diaper, making the plastic crackle in the still night air. Tiffany purred and squirmed and pouted up at her tormenter, helpless and fearful and horny as hell.
     (Jenna watched the screen intently, licking her lips. She could hardly believe it, but this was actually turning her on. The way Tiffany acted so helpless, along with Mercedes aggressive kisses and merciless teasing—dominating her completely… it was driving her wild.)
     Mercedes kissed Tiffany, exploring her mouth with her tongue. She trailed her hand down her belly and into the front of her diaper. Tiffany gasped and gurgled spreading her legs as far as they’d go in the diaper. Mercedes smiled cruelly and worked her fingers, quicker and quicker; she watched Tiffany shiver and coo and whimper, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, and then slowed to almost a full stop. Tiffany whined and thrust her pelvis against the warm fingers in her diapers.
     “Ohhh, who’s a greedy baby?” she chuckled sweetly, pressing her warm, moist mouth down onto Tiffany’s. Beneath her the girl moaned, enjoying the sensations, but at the same time fixated mindlessly on her own pleasure, humping the hand down the front of her big, crinkly pampers with reckless abandon.
    Amber took her eyes from the show to study her host. He sipped a drink slowly and eyed the two girls writhing on the floor. His expression was cool and collected, but Amber had been around men long enough to know when they were aroused. This one was more in control of himself than any other man she’d seen, but this little scene was still making him hot. Amber smiled and walked toward him slowly. She stood in front of him, grinning mischievously like a little girl. “This seat taken?” she asked, sliding into his lap. He immediately wrapped one arm around her waist, resting his large hand on her hip, and placed the other one on her thigh. She shivered when he pulled her in for a kiss.  They made out offhandedly, each keeping half an eye on the show on the floor. Amber felt his erection growing and felt her heart leap: my god, it’s huge!
     Mercedes grinned and worked her fingers; Tiffany writhed and gurgled and humped her hand wildly. She’d lost herself in pleasure-- all worries of her rapidly dissipating adult identity had melted away. “Come on, baby,” Mercedes whispered. “Come for me.” She leaned down and kissed her neck, then pressed her lips against Tiffany’s ear and whispered, her breath hot and moist against the girl’s skin: “Come for mama…”
     Tiffany exploded into orgasm; for one white hot moment, it was like she was pure pleasure and nothing else existed. She twisted and bucked on the floor, her skin alive and tingling with every sensation.
     Her eyes fluttered open. She stretched lazily, more content than she’d been in a long time. She yawned and scratched her belly. She knew, somewhere deep down that this wasn’t right, this wasn’t who she was supposed to be at all, but it was so hard to focus.
     She looked up at Mercedes, who grinned down at her with savage lust.
     Tiffany smiled back vacantly, spread her legs, and pissed her diaper with a loud hiss.

Part Two