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

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Miley Makes The Naughty List

(Just a quick note: I've had a few double orders on the comics in the last couple of weeks, so I'm going to remind people once again to read the instructions carefully before your order, and to contact me if you have a problem rather than ordering again. I try to refund all double charges, but sometimes one slips past my attention. If you've had a problem with your order, Let me know right away and I'll get it to you ASAP.)

Just something short and silly staring America's favorite naughty girl (Inspired by this story). Enjoy and Merry Christmas everyone!
Photo-manipulation by Chross

     Miley was jolted from a deep slumber by a noisy bump.
     “Hmmm?” she murmured, her head still throbbing from the party earlier that evening, where she’d overindulged on the drinks (again.) When the limo finally got her home, it was all she could do to stagger into bed, where not even the spins could keep her awake—she was out almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, still in her shorts and tank top.
     Now she fought to consciousness, her head pounding, her tongue like sandpaper in her mouth. The alcohol had left a foul taste, and she was faced with the awful decision of trying to go back to sleep or prying herself out of bed and hauling her well-toned buns down the hall to get a drink of water. Sighing heavily, she finally managed to force herself out of bed and stagger heavily down the hall.
     She filled her glass in the bathroom sink and drank down deeply. It helped a little, but she still felt strange. She was so hot… but how was that possible? Her shorts and top left far more of her uncovered than not…
     It was then that she realized she wasn’t wearing her cute little shorts and tank top anymore. She squirmed in the darkness, a warm fuzz gently caressing her skin.  Whatever it was, it seemed to cover her neck to feet. Reaching over, she turned on the light.
     The brightness seared her eyes, but she adjusted quickly, turning to inspect herself in the mirror.
     “Woah!” she cried, not quite believing what she was seeing. Instead of her itty bitty shorts and almost non-existent tank top, she was wearing a gigantic, red footed sleeper—just like she wore when she was a baby. Exactly like when she was a baby, she realized when she turned and blushingly discovered a drop-hatch in the seat, fastened by two big, bright yellow buttons. She pulled the hatch aside a bit, and confirmed that she was indeed naked under there.
    She did a few turns, admiring herself—although the jammies did little to flatter her figure, they did make her look very cute—just like a big baby, she thought, wriggling her tush against the warm, fuzzy drop hatch with a giggle.
    A bump from the living room froze her. Miley took her eyes from the mirror, worried for the first time. She strained her ears she listened, searching for a rational explanation… Had she just imagined it? No… there: she could hear shuffling now--- definitely coming from the living room.
     She opened the door and peeked her head out. “Hello?” She whispered loudly. “Is anyone there?” With her heart throbbing in her chest, she tip-toed down the hall. She could see lights on in the living room, shadows dancing on the wall. “Hello?” She whispered, trembling now, but unable to stop herself, as though she was in a nightmare. Hesitantly, she padded around the corner, feeling even more vulnerable in her oversized PJ’s than she would have naked.
     “Wait… Santa?!’ she stammered disbelievingly.
     “Ho ho ho!” Santa bellowed, making the walls tremble. “Come in, come, in, my dear—we have a lot to talk about.”
     “OK.” Nervously, Miley crossed into the room and stood before him. Somehow he seemed to tower over her, his features kindly, but somehow stern under his glasses and beard.  She stood before him in her silly little PJ’s and shifted from foot to foot nervously.
     “Now Miley,” said old St. Nick, “I’ve know you since you were a little girl. I watched you grow up, and I couldn’t be prouder of your success if I were your own father,” he said truthfully.
     “Oh… Thank you—Santa,” she said uncertainly.
     “But the way you’ve acted this year, young lady…”he trailed off, the disappointment in his voice heavy. “Well, to make a long story short: this year, for the first time, I’ve had to put you on the naughty list,” he said gravely, taking out a sheet of parchment and showing Miley her name. She gulped and right away knew he wasn’t joking.
     “So… you came here to tell me to straighten up and fly right?”
     “Well, sort of… you see, Miley, with your success comes a certain… immunity from consequences. Simply put, I’m not sure you can rely on anyone around you to let you know when you’ve crossed the line, let alone give you the necessary guidance when you do. So tonight, Santa is going to give you exactly what you need to remind you to be a good girl next year.
     “Over my knee young lady: You’re going to get a spanking!”
     “A spanking!?” Miley cried, taking a step back and instinctually placing a hand on her bottom. Miley had never been spanked in her life, and she had no desire to start now. “Please don’t Santa!  I’ve learned my lesson! I’ll be a good girl next year I promise!”
     “I’m sorry Miley,” Santa said kindly, “I care about you too much to take your word for it. Come on little girl: Over my knee. Now,” he commanded firmly, snapping his fingers. Instantly, the butt-flap on Miley’s pajamas popped open, revealing the plump, pale heart of her bum. She squealed in embarrassment, reaching back to cover up. The air in the house was cool, and the soft skin of her buttocks broke out in goose-pimples.
     She looked to Santa pleadingly, but he simply patted his lap firmly. Miley found herself padding across the room toward him as though she was drawn by a magnet, painfully aware of the cool breeze on her bare tush. There was an air of dizzy unreality to the situation, and Miley expected to wake up in bed
     “That’s a good girl,” he said, reaching out and taking Miley under her arms, lifting her clear of the floor. She squeaked and kicked her feet as Santa lifted her through the air and laid her across his lap. Her feet scissored uselessly in the air behind her, and the floor below seemed miles away. Santa’s lap was warm beneath her, and broad enough to give her plenty of room to squirm around without falling off. Santa chuckled like rolling thunder, and she felt his gloved hand give her bare rump a couple of gentle pats, the palm easily big enough to cover most of both cheeks. She had a sudden frightening realization—this was no dream.
     Her stomach dropped, a tingling, almost painful prickling of shame danced up her spine and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her chest tightened, she had to struggle for breath, her bosom heaving beneath her. She peeked back over her shoulder nervously and found Santa grinning benevolently as he rubbed, patted, and pinched her adorable little buns.
     The first swat descended from nowhere, the impact making both cheeks jiggle and sting. Miley squealed and kicked her feet uselessly in the air behind her. Another followed, and then another and another, and before she knew what was going on, Miley was in the midst of her first ever spanking. And she was quickly realizing it wasn’t just embarrassing to be a grown woman getting a spanking across someone’s lap—it hurt!
      Swat swat swat swat! Santa settled into a rhythm: brisk enough to sting her jiggling bottom and bring a healthy glow, but not enough to overwhelm her—not just yet, anyway. Miley kicked her feet behind her and stretched her arms out in front of her, trying to escape in both directions at once.
     The spanking continued, turning her bottom red and bringing out a stinging red heat across both cheeks. Miley tried to remain as stoic as possible, tried not to embarrass herself further by fussing like a little girl. But as the swats piled up and her bottom got redder, Miley found herself kicking and squealing as she reached the limits of her tolerance.
     “OW! OWWWW! Oh Santa, please stop! I’ve learned my lesson!” she pleaded.
     “Not yet honey,” He said gently. “Try to stay still.”
     Whap whap whap whap! Miley sucked in a deep breath and tried to steady herself, but it only took a few more swats before she cried out again. “Waaa! Yeow! Stop it!” She cried. Desperately, she reached back to cover her tushy with her hand—which Santa promptly enfolded in one of his and pinned it against the small of her back. Frantic, she turned to peer at him over her shoulder pleadingly, eyes big and wet and filled with panic. But Santa just shook his head, kindly but firmly, and continued swatting, slowly, but relentlessly, until Miley felt tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. She made one last attempt to keep it together and retain just a small shred of dignity.
     Her bottom lip quivered… she squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. She began to blubber and cry, her struggles giving way to physical and emotional exhaustion. She lay limply and cried over Santa’s lap, submissively accepting her spanking like the naughty girl she was, and knowing that she had indeed earned it with 365 days of immature behavior.
     And then, as abruptly as it had begun, it stopped, and for a long moment she hung limply over St. Nick’s knee, sobbing softly to herself as he gently rubbed and soothed her sizzling bottom. She had no idea how long she lay like that, but finally Santa said “OK, darling; up you go.”
     Miley found herself lifted into the air under her arms again, and endured a dizzying turn in mid air, before finding herself seated in Santa’s ample lap. She winced and hissed as her tender rump, still bare, made contact, but the pain soon settled into a dull discomfort. She made herself comfortable, settling in on Santa’s cozy lap like a little girl on daddy’s knee. Her stinging, bare bottom added just a hint of warm embarrassment to the situation.
     “That’s a good girl,” Santa said, “you’ve had your punishment, and now you’re ready to be a good girl again, right?”
     “Yes, sir!” she said seriously, reaching beneath her to give her rump a rueful little rub.
     “Atta girl,” he said, taking a bottle filled with warm, frothy cream out of his nearby bag and bringing the nipple to Miley’s lips.
     “Hey, what’s… umph!” she mumbled, cut off by the nipple being popped into her mouth. She gurgled, her cheeks puffing as her mouth filled with warm cream. She took a big swallow, then another. Her mouth was filling almost faster than she could consume it, but soon she settled into a comfortable rhythm. She reclined into a more comfortable position and allowed herself to relax in the warmth and growing fullness inside her, closing her eyes and sucking down her bottle eagerly.
     She relaxed, every muscle slackening. She curled up in Santa’s warm lap and slurped her milk like a kitten, more relaxed than she could ever remember being in her entire life. She began drifting in and out of sleep. Her belly was full, and she started to think she might pop. Strangely, though, she still didn’t want to stop.
     Warm! She was like the warm, glowing center of the universe. She wriggled her toes and squirmed her bottom in his lap—even the sting in her tushy felt heavenly. She sighed, feeling warmer and warmer every second…
     “Miley!” Santa cried! “Wake up! You’re having an accident!”
     She snapped awake—but it was too late. She was peeing at a rapid rate now, fully emptying her bursting bladder, right on Santa’s lap!
     She gave an embarrassed cry and tried to stop, but it was no good—she just couldn’t seem to manage to control herself!
     There was a moment of silence; Miley looked up at him, tears spilling out of her big, bright eyes. “I-I…” she started to sob. “I’m sorry, Santa! WWWAAAAA!” she started bawling like a toddler.
     But Santa just chuckled kindly. “It’s alright, sweetheart: You just had a little accident. Here… let Santa help you.”
     She scooped her up as easily as a rag doll. Miley clung to him and sobbed in embarrassment; this was easily the worst thing that had ever happened to her.
     Back in her bedroom, she was set on the floor and quickly stripped. Nude, she stood before Santa, watching him rifle through his bag, producing several items, which he quickly set about placing on the bed.
     “Upsy girl!” he said, taking her under her arms again and lifting her through the air. Miley kicked and squealed a bit in surprise. Dazed, she found herself laid out on a towel on the bed. She squealed as a cool, wet cloth made contact with her delicate skin, gently wiping her clean again. Her ankles were taken, her legs lifted into the air. She cried and shivered, blushing brightly when she felt the cloth against her bare bottom, then slipping between her cheeks to clean inside her crack.
     “There we go,” Santa said warmly, “all nice and clean again.” Miley felt a tickle across her privates, and realized she was being dusted with baby powder. Her legs were lifted again, her butt blasted with powder, which Santa patted firmly into her rump.  Her bottom was hoisted into the air, and when it was lowered, she felt something soft and crinkly under her buns…
     Miley almost cried out… he was going to diaper her!
     Dazed, Miley could only lay passively as the diaper was pulled up firmly between her legs and fastened tightly around her waist. She sat up and looked down disbelievingly—she’d been strapped into a massive, adult-sized pamper. Santa grinned down from above her.
     “There you are, honey,” he said, helping her to her feet. Miley was still weak in the knees from her whirlwind experience, and the diaper was bulky between her legs, forcing her to waddle. “No more accidents for you tonight,” he chuckled, patting her padded bottom with one massive hand making her blush. The diaper was hot and sweaty, and her red bum throbbed a bit. She caught sight of herself in the mirror… nude but for her enormous diaper, she looked exactly like the oversized baby she’d acted like all year. She trembled… it would be a long time before she saw herself as a grown-up again.
     “Now into bed with you,” said Santa, turning down the cover and helping her into bed with a firm pat on her diapered bottom. Miley eagerly climbed inside, not wanting to risk another spanking.
     “Sleep tight, dear,” he said, before adding in a somewhat cautionary tone, “I’ll see you next year.” And like that her was gone.
     Miley flipped over on her tummy and shoved a pillow under her hips, elevating her sore tushy to relieve the pain. She was all too happy to let sleep overwhelm her.

     Miley awoke with a groan, the mid-morning sunlight warm on her face. She squinted and stretched, forcing herself awake. What a dream! Spanked and diapered by Santa?! No more pizza before bed for you, girl, she admonished herself.
     It was about that time she realized she was laying in an awkward position. Something was wedged in beneath her pelvis, and her butt was stuck way up in the air behind her…
     Panic seized her heart… she reached back and prodded one of her buttocks through the blanket, gasping at the sizzling pain the merest touch brought her. She rolled out of bed… and was confronted with the sight of a huge-ass diaper strapped to her loins… and judging from the yellowish tint to the front panel and the soggy squishing sounds when she moved, it had been well used during the night. Her eyes were magnetically drawn to the mirror—she nearly burst into tears when she saw herself, disheveled from sleep and clad only in a large, wet pamper, she looked exactly like a big baby.
     With a little cry, she ran off down the hall, shedding her wet diaper and dropping it to the floor as she went. She resolved at that moment to do whatever it took to avoid getting on the naughty list again next year.


  1. Fun! Thanks for the gift, and Merry Christmas!

  2. Enjoyable Christmas story, a fun read. Merry Christmas to you Mr Parker

  3. it's soooooo cool!!!!!! It's more than just cool!!! write smth like dat again! pleaseeeeeeeeee, beg you. maybe Nick Jonas can spank her!!!