The next series of captions I wrote! All about a new mysterious virus infecting young adults across the world. Got inspired by an actual flu epidemic that took place on my college campus. Art credit goes to Rocket Manatee
Have you ever been on my blog and just wanted to find some ddlg or mdlg captions, but didn't want to wade through mdlb captions?
You're in luck! Now you don't have to. I put them all here in this post.
At least I think so. All the important ones are here for sure.
I labeled them as DDlg, MDlg, or M+D for both Mommy and Daddy doms.
And put a brief description of the caption. Anything with Cuckquean is labeled, as some love it, while others hate it.
The Chilies are a humiliation measurement. Five chilies means you want pure humiliation. One chili means it's a sweeter, loving caption. Squirmies can be found at every chili level.
Anyway, like this so you can always find what you're looking for.
The two hour car ride to her aunt's house proved to be too much for Ellie who had recently been struggling with embarrassing accidents in her pants. The ride to her aunts house was going smoothly until what started as a small cramp in her stomach, grew into something much much worse.
"Mom can we please stop, I really need to use the bathroom."
"No sweetie, I already told you. We are twenty minutes away, you can either hold it or just go in your pull-up. Situations like this is why you are wearing them again."
"No mom, I don't have to pee. My stomach hurts really bad..I don't know how much longer I can hold it."
"Ellie come on, I'm not going to stop when we are this close to your aunts house. Just hold it until we get there. Why is it that every time we go on a road trip it's you that has bathroom issues. I expect this kind of behavior from your five year old sister, not my 21 year old daughter!"
"Uggghhh finee but please hurry up..."
The final twenty minutes of the drive felt like an eternity, but finally they had arrived. Ellie immediately jumped out of the car and dashed towards the bathroom, she was in complete desperation mode after holding it for over an hour.
As she entered the bathroom and closed the door behind, she quickly lowered her shorts, bending her knees slightly in anticipation; but before she had time to turn around and lower her pull-up, the pressure became too much.
She groaned with tears in her eyes as a warm mush began uncontrollably sliding into the back of her pull-up. Ellie instinctively pressed both her hands on the back of her pullup but it was no help as the mess spread up the back of her pullup that was beginning to sag. Ellie felt humiliated as she squatted down like a toddler filling her diaper and cried feeling the warmth grow up the front and back of her pullup, it was nearly a blowout! She had zero control though. All she could do was cry until her stomach cramp fully emptied into her diaper. Ellie couldn't think of a worse way to kick off her week long vacation at her aunts house.
Three women compete in a game show where the penalties are humiliating, infantilizing, and possibly permanent.
When I first released this story, I let readers vote on what happened to the contestants in a series of polls, so that’s why the structure is the way it is. All voting is now concluded!
***
“Welcome everybody!” called a strong, male voice. “I’m Jacob, your host, and this is Babe or Billionaire, the game show where our contestants either walk away with more money than they could ever dream… or they say bye-bye to their big girl privileges forever!”
There were loud cheers and applause from the live studio audience as a spotlight lit up Jacob’s tall, well-built frame and ruggedly handsome features.
“Before we start, let me fill you in on the rules! The contestants will compete in a game of rock, paper, scissors each round. The winners will gain points, and the one with the most points at the end of the game will win our fabulous cash prize! But when one (or more) of our girls loses, our game master behind the scenes will bring up a selection of delightful penalties that you the audience get to vote on!”
More shouts and woops echoed throughout the studio.
“Now let’s meet the contestants!” said Jacob, turning to face the three women who were each standing in front of a podium, suddenly illuminated by the stage lights. Jacob gestured towards the one on the left, a beautiful blonde woman in a short black dress that exposed her slender legs and gave particular focus to her generous chest.
“Isabelle here is a twenty-seven-year-old model, known for her saucy swimsuit sets and her demanding attitude during a shoot! She wants to win the prize money so she can attend the finest events and galas in the country and get the respect she deserves – and so she never has to do another nude set!”
The audience laughed and began catcalling and wolf-whistling.
Isabelle scowled at Jacob’s comments and surveyed the crowd with distaste. She’d happily have given them all the middle finger, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the audience in a game like this, so she forced a bright smile and blew a kiss at them instead.
Jacob moved on to the girl in the middle, a pretty, nervous-looking girl dressed in skinny jeans and a white crop-top that exposed her tummy.
“Kimberly is a twenty-three-year-old law student. She’s the top of her class, and she hopes to use her prize money to start her own legal practice! That will make a nice change from relying on your boyfriend financially, won’t it Kimmy?”
The crowd cheered and roared again. Kimberly smiled at the audience, trying to conceal the way their eager, almost hungry expressions unsettled her. She felt a prickle of anger and shame at Jacob’s words as well. Her boyfriend was just helping her out! She couldn’t stand the thought of people thinking she was some sort of trophy-girlfriend who couldn’t get by without a man. It wasn’t as though she was going to be dependent on Paul forever!
“And lastly, we have Eily!” Jacob continued, moving on to the third and final contestant, a slightly cold and serious looking woman dressed in a beige pantsuit, her dark hair tied up in a neat bun behind her head. “Eily is a thirty-one-year-old businesswoman so devoted to her career that she staged a hostile takeover of her own now ex-husband’s company! But there’s always room for growth, and she wants to take her business to new heights with the prize money from today’s game!”
The audience applauded and cheered again, and Eily was sure she could hear jeering mixed in as well. She nodded coolly at the crowd. She wasn’t like those two little bimbos sharing the stage with her, and she was going to make sure the audience knew it. There weren’t just men in the seats opposite them – there were a fair number of women too, and Eily was sure she could get them on side with her calm, professional demeanour. Eily knew how to deal with other women; they didn’t like it when younger girls dressed and acted like ditzy little sluts.
“Each of them has been dosed with our special nanomachines,” Jacob went on, a smirk playing across his mouth, “and our tech boys behind the stage will be responsible for giving our little ladies their penalties – we can alter their outfits, their bodies, even their minds! And remember, the one with the most points at the end of the game will be allowed to remove three of her penalties, but the losers will be stuck with theirs for the rest of their lives… Now it’s time to play – Babe or Billionaire! The theme for tonight’s first penalty will be… Hairstyle!”
At once, the screens on the girls’ podiums lit up, displaying a picture of a rock, a piece of paper, and a pair of scissors. All three women snuck glances at each other, but it was impossible to see what anyone else was selecting. With three pings, they made their decisions, and the fronts of their podiums lit up to reveal their choices to each other and the audience.
Kimberly’s heart sank when she saw them. She’d chosen scissors, but both Isabelle and Eily had chosen rock. What exactly did a hairstyle penalty mean? Were they going to dye her hair a ridiculous colour or something?
“Ooh, sorry Kimmy!” said Jacob, with faux pity in his voice. “But it looks like you’re the loser of our first round! And that means you’ll be getting a change in hairstyle. Rest assured, once your new hairstyle gets chosen, our nanites will make sure you can never style your hair any other way. Your hair will force itself into a predetermined look no matter how hard you try to alter it!”
“I... I… What?!” Kimberly squealed. She ran her hands through her long, luscious brown hair almost automatically, an anxious expression on her face. She felt a horrible wave of fear wash over her. What exactly had she got herself into? Was all that talk about nanomachines actually real? When she’d looked over the contract, she’d just assumed it was some stupid fake gimmick!
“Let’s see what the options are!” said Jacob, turning towards the large screen that faced half to the audience and half to the stage. “So ladies and gentlemen, your choices are… Pigtails! Golden Curls! Or Baby Tuft! Oh dear, Kimmy. It looks like you’ll be saying goodbye to that lovely long hair of yours one way or the other! Now everyone, vote on the tablets attached to your chairs and let’s decide what pretty Kimmy’s locks are going to be like from now on! Will she have a pair of adorable pigtails sticking out from either side of her head? A set of golden curls to make any toddler jealous? Or will she be left with some little tufts of baby hair on a mostly bald head? Vote now!”
“And the votes are in!” Jacob called happily, turning towards the giant screen again. “The winner, by a considerable margin is… Pigtails! Congratulations, Kimmy! You’re swapping that long, sophisticated hairdo for something a little more age appropriate. You’re still a student, after all! Although unless you win tonight’s game, you’re going to be stuck with your new look long after you graduate… But I’m sure you’re going to look absolutely adorable. Now let’s get those nanites to work!”
Kimberly squealed as she felt a sudden tingling all over her scalp. She reached up to clutch at her hair, only to feel it moving by itself, twisting out of her grip and rearranging itself into two pigtails high on either side of her head. The nanites were real! She shrieked and grabbed at the neon-pink hair bobbles that had suddenly materialised around her hair, holding it in its new shape, and tried to tug them off. But they wouldn’t budge. All she managed to do was yank painfully on her hair, although not a strand left her head.
“What have you done to me?!” Kimberly cried.
“Bring the mirror out!” Jacob called happily, and a couple of stage hands immediately rushed forwards holding a floor-length mirror, which they stood directly in front of Kimberly.
She stared at her reflection, aghast. She looked absurd. Her beautiful brown hair was tied up in a pair of scruffy pigtails that gave her the look of an oversized toddler. They weren’t even symmetrical! She looked like a little girl who’d had her hair hastily done up for her by her Mummy!
“But… But…” she stammered, unable to take her eyes of her new hairstyle. “But this can’t be permanent! It can’t!”
The audience tittered, and Jacob chuckled along with them. “You did read the contract, didn’t you Kimmy?” he smirked. “I wasn’t joking earlier. This is what your hair will be like from now on, unless you win the game and choose it as one of your three penalties to remove.”
Kimberly’s lower lip trembled, and she felt her tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t want to look like a stupid child for the rest of her life! She couldn’t practise law like this! And what would her boyfriend say if she showed up back at their apartment looking like a giant six-year-old? He already teased her for being dependent on him! If she looked like a child, he’d never take her seriously again!
Isabelle was looking very nervous too, and even Eily’s cold demeanour had slipped at a little at the sight of Kimberly’s penalty. Both of them knew it could just have easily been them standing in front of their podiums with ludicrous toddler hairstyles.
The giant screen displayed the current scores:
Isabelle – 1
Kimberly – 0
Eily – 1
“What do you think of Kimmy’s new hairstyle, Isabelle? Jacob asked, and the swimsuit model looked frightened at having been addressed so suddenly. She quickly rearranged her features into an easy smile, however. She knew this was the kind of game where it paid to have the audience on side. She had to convince them to pick on the other girls and give her the penalties that weren’t so bad.
“I love it!” she said, smirking nastily at the tearful Kimberly. “I think silly little pigtails suit her very well. Of course, nobody’s ever going to think of her as an adult when she’s got the same hairstyle as my two-year-old niece, but she sure is cute! Even if she does hate it!”
Many in the audience murmured and clapped in agreement. Kimberly only whimpered.
“And what do you think, Eily?”
Eily raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be fooled by her little teary-eyed act, Jacob. She’s a twenty-three-year-old student. She’s probably used to having her hair up in a pair of little slut handlebars. This is just going to make her more popular with all the boys.”
The audience chuckled appreciatively, and Kimberly stared at Eily in shock. How dare she!
“Of course, a change in hairstyle is hardly the worst thing that can happen to you,” Jacob said, turning back to the crowd. “But don’t worry, there’s going to be an awful lot more excitement for these ladies this evening – which brings us onto our next round! The theme for the penalties this time will be… Clothing!”
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and all three girls on stage felt their stomachs drop. What had they gotten themselves into? The screens on their podiums lit up once again with the images of rock, paper, or scissors.
Isabelle looked up and tried to catch one of the other women’s eyes. Was there some way they could signal some sort of agreement? Would that even help, when it was just rock, paper, scissors? Was this really just a stupid game of chance when it had so much on the line?! Neither Kimberly nor Eily noticed her, however. They were already making their decisions. Isabelle looked down at her screen, a knot of anxiety in her stomach, and made hers.
The fronts of their podiums lit up, revealing their choices. Isabelle had chosen rock again, Kimberly had chosen paper, and Eily had chosen scissors.
The audience roared with pleasure, and Jacob laughed. “Oh dear! A three-way tie! Sorry girls, but I’m afraid that means you all lose this round. All three of you will be getting a brand-new theme for your outfits, and you’re going to find it utterly impossible to wear anything else. If you try to wear something that doesn’t conform to your new clothing style, it will automatically morph on your body into something more suitable! Isn’t that wonderful?”
Isabelle, Kimberly, and Eily all stared at him in horror.
“Let’s look at what the audience’s options are shall we? Starting with Isabelle, the penalties are… Bibs And Bonnets! Or Adorable Slogans!
Isabelle’s felt sick. Bibs And Bonnets sounded like she’d be dressed up like a baby! And Adorable Slogans… She thought of the clothes her niece used to wear, the ridiculous onesies with phrases like Mummy’s Little Stinker written on the front. Was that what that meant?! Either one of those penalties would ruin her modelling career! They’d ruin her whole life!
“For Kimberly,” Jacob continued, “the options are… Princess Obsessed! Or Toddler Style!”
Kimberly whimpered. It looked like either way she was getting something to match her new hairstyle, whether it was Disney princesses or dungarees. She was only two rounds in and she’d already lost both. At this rate even if she won, she’d still be stuck with a load of penalties! Who cares how much money she had if she couldn’t even dress like an adult?!
“And for Eily,” Jacob went on, “it’s a choice between… Sexy Schoolgirl! Or Slutty Secretary!”
Eily’s mouth fell open. Sexy Schoolgirl? Slutty Secretary? She was a CEO! She was a respectable adult woman! She didn’t play dress-up like some kind of fetish pornstar! The idea of either of the options was enough to turn her stomach.
“Well there you have it, ladies and gentlemen,” Jacob said. “Those are your options! Now it’s time to vote on a new clothing style for all three of our lucky contestants!”
“And that’s it!” Jacob called. “Voting is done! Let’s see what kind of outfits our little ladies are going to be wearing from now on!” He turned to the giant screen that faced both stage and audience. “Starting with our favourite swimsuit model, it looks like Isabelle will be sporting some stylish Bibs and Bonnets from now on! Oh dear… I can’t imagine those are going to match your sexy bikinis, are they sweetie?”
Isabelle felt a shiver of horror run down her spine. Then she gasped in shock as the shivers continued, spreading across her chest and around her head. As if from nowhere, fabric materialised around her neck and spread down over her breasts, forming a large, pale-pink bib that hid her generous cleavage from view. At the same time, the periphery of her vision was obscured with cloth as a knitted bonnet grew over her head like a hood over her luscious blonde hair, and snaked down two pieces of string that tied themselves securely beneath her chin.
The crowd cheered and applauded, while Isabelle stood behind her podium, her face contorted with distress. The stage hands who had brought out the mirror for Kimberly last round brought it out for her now, and Isabelle could only stare in shock and embarrassment at her new look. Her pink bib and bonnet clashed absurdly with her tight black dress. In only a few moments, she had gone from looking like a beautiful, stylish young woman to a ridiculous fusion of sexy model and adult baby. This couldn’t be permanent!
With a sudden thrill of terror, Isabelle’s hands sprang to her new accessories, and she attempted to rip them off and hurl them away – but her hands wouldn’t cooperate. The moment her fingers touched her bib and bonnet, they instantly became so weak and feeble that they couldn’t even grasp the material. It was as if some part of her knew she was trying to take them off, and wouldn’t let her! She let out a squeal of dismay, patting her hands uselessly against her new bib while Jacob joined in the audience’s laugher and chuckled at her futile efforts.
“I’m afraid that’s not going to work, darling,” he said patronisingly. “I meant what I said before. Your new clothing style is permanent, unless you win the game and remove the penalty. You’ll still be able to take them off to have a bath and things like that, but you’ll find that whether it’s a bikini at the beach, lingerie in the bedroom, a sexy dress at the club, or even just casual lounging-about clothes, no outfit of yours will be complete without an adorable bib and bonnet to top it off.”
Isabelle’s hands fell limply to her sides, and she felt tears of anger and shame welling up in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled, but she held herself together. She wasn’t going to give Jacob or the audience the satisfaction of seeing her bawl her eyes out. How dare they do this to her! But it was no matter… It was only one penalty after all. She could easily undo it once she’d won!
“Now then, I’d normally ask what Kimberly and Eily think of your cute little bonnet,” Jacob went on, grinning horribly as he turned to the other contestants, “but they’ve got some new outfits of their own to be dealing with. Next up is Kimberly, our cute little wanna-be lawyer!” He looked back to the giant screen. “And it looks like the winning penalty is…. Toddler Style! Congratulations, Kimmy! Your new look is going to go perfectly with those precious pigtails!”
Kimberly let out a whimper, and the changes began right away. Her white crop top lengthened to conceal her slim tummy, and her jeans expanded up the front of her body, looping straps over her shoulders, becoming a set of denim dungarees. Then colour burst into life on her chest as a large yellow duck appeared emblazoned on the front, and clipped to one of the strap-buttons of her new outfit, a bright pink pacifier materialised into being on the end of a chord.
Kimberly wailed as the stage hands moved the mirror in front of her, and she was able to take in her new appearance fully. She looked so stupid! It had only been two rounds and the game had already turned her into a dumb, pigtailed toddler dressed up in babyish overalls! There was no way anyone would trust her with legal matters dressed like this. Tears leaked down her cheeks and she sniffled pathetically, even while the audience clapped and screamed its approval. Her boyfriend was going to laugh himself silly when he saw her, she thought miserably. If he didn’t just dump her. What guy would want to go out with a girl who always dressed like she was three years old?! Kimberly looked down at her feet and sobbed. She’d never be able to practise law looking like this!
“Awww, don’t cry, Kimmy,” Jacob cooed condescendingly. “I think you look absolutely precious!” He laughed, then turned his attention to the giant screen once again. “And last but not least, our very own bitchy businesswoman, Eily! And it looks like she’s going to be swapping that boring old pantsuit for a hot new uniform! The winning result is Sexy Schoolgirl!”
Eily gripped the podium to steady herself. She felt nauseous. This couldn’t be happening… not to her! But when she looked down, she saw that her beige suit had already started to melt away. Her trousers disappeared from the ankles up, transforming into a scandalously short plaid miniskirt that barely reached her mid-thighs, and exposed her long, slender legs. Her suit jacket vanished entirely, as did her sensible bra, and her white shirt became semi-transparent as it rose up to reveal her well-toned stomach and tie itself in a knot just under her breasts. The outlines of her nipples were just about visible through the thin fabric. Her smart shoes became buckled high-heels that lifted her at least two extra inches off the ground, and her grey socks whitened and stretched up all the way above her knees, ending in a ring of frills and a pair of scarlet bows. To top it off, a stupidly short plaid tie materialised around her neck, hanging loosely between her breasts, and when the stage hands brought the mirror out in front of her, she saw what looked like a small school crest just above her left breast. She peered at the reversed letters and made out the words, “Babygirl Academy of Bitches”.
Eily gritted her teeth furiously while the audience cheered, and promised herself that when she won the game, she’d use a portion of the money to make sure everyone responsible for this was punished. She looked like a vapid college bimbo!
“Very nice, Eily!” Jacob called approvingly over the jeers and wolf-whistles of the crowd. “I wouldn’t mind giving you a few remedial lessons, if you know what I mean…”
Eily shot him a look of utter loathing, but he just chuckled and winked.
“Well then,” Jacob went on, “there’s no use in wasting time! Let’s move on to the next round! An audience favourite, the penalties for the third round will be… Potty Training!”
The crowd cheered louder than they had done so far, and Isabelle, Kimberly, and Eily felt their hearts drop into their stomachs. Potty training?!
“You know the drill, girls,” said Jacob, as the screens on their podiums came to life.
Kimberly was still sobbing quietly. She could barely see the screen through her tears, but what difference did it make? There was no strategy here! She made her choice with a trembling finger, praying that she couldn’t lose this round as well. Even if she won the game, there were only two more penalties she could remove in addition to the ones she already had – any more than that and she’d have to start prioritising. Did she want to dress like a toddler for the rest of her life, or just have the hairstyle of one? She hiccupped pathetically.
Isabelle and Eily made their choices too, and a moment later, the screens on the front of their podiums illuminated their choices.
Kimberly wailed, Isabelle let out a whimpering moan, and Eily sighed with relief. The businesswoman turned schoolgirl had chosen scissors. Both the other girls had chosen paper.
“Uh-oh!” Jacob sang happily. “It looks like we’ve got two little ladies who might be saying bye-bye to pottying like big girls! Let’s see what the penalties are! Starting with Isabelle, we have… Always Wet! Or Totally Incontinent!”
“No!” Isabelle shrieked, her eyes wide and terrified, but Jacob just shot her a smirk and carried on.
“And for Kimmy, the choices are… Pants-Wetter! Or Stuck In Training!”
Kimberly burst into a fit of hysterical tears.
“So what will it be, ladies and gents?” Jacob asked. “Will Isabelle lose her bladder control and find herself unable to keep her diapers dry for more than a second, peeing them without fail the moment she ever changes into a new one? Or will she lose her potty training completely and end up totally diaper-dependent for the rest of her days? And what about Kimberly? Will she become a girl who frequently wets her pants, but who’s too proud for pull-ups and constantly leaves little puddles on the floor? Or will she end up stuck in a state of perpetual potty training, never graduating out of training pants, forever dependent on a caregiver to take her to the toilet? Vote now!”
“Voting’s over, ladies and gentlemen!” Jacob shouted. “Let’s see the results! Starting with little Kimmy this time, the winning penalty is… Stuck In Training!”
Kimberly hadn’t stopped crying since the options were announced, but now her sobbing seemed to double in intensity. The crowd roared its approval.
“There, there, Kimmy,” Jacob cooed. “It’s not so bad. It just means you’re going to need a bit of help going potty from now on. More specifically, you’re going to find that your bladder and bowel control is roughly equivalent to that of a three-year-old in the middle of her toilet training, meaning that pull-ups are going to become a necessity. And more than that, you’ll find yourself totally unable to use a toilet without a grown-up to take you, to hold your hand while you do your business, and wipe your clean afterwards. I hope you have someone special in mind!”
Kimberly wailed, imagining having to toddle up to her boyfriend with her hands pressed between her legs, hopping from foot to foot and begging him to help her tinkle. She could feel a funny tingling in her head and her nether regions as the changes took effect. Then, all of a sudden, she felt her panties beginning to thicken beneath her overalls – she couldn’t see them, but she could tell by the bulk that her adult underwear had just turned into a pair of thick, puffy training pants.
“And moving on to baby Isabelle in her pretty bonnet, the winning penalty is… Totally Incontinent! Congratulations, Isabelle! You’re going to be diaper-dependent!”
“No!” Isabelle screamed, while the audience cheered loudly. She clutched at her bonnet-clad head in panic as she felt a tingling inside her skull, the nanomachines working to erase all her knowledge of how to go to the bathroom like a grown-up. Then she felt the tingling in her lower parts, and the thickening of her underwear, and with a girlish shriek of terror she bolted away from the podium, trying to make a run for it.
Jacob and the audience merely laughed as the two stage-hands from earlier caught her under the arms and dragged her back onto the stage, kicking and screaming.
“That’s not going to work, silly girl,” Jacob chuckled. “The nanomachines are inside you! They won’t stop working just because you run away! And I can assure you that the effects are quite permanent – unless of course you win tonight’s game and choose your incontinence as one of the penalties you want to reverse. So staying here and competing is the only way you’re not guaranteed to spend the rest of your life in stinky diapers, sweetie.”
Isabelle burst into tears, looking just as pathetic as Kimberly, but she knew Jacob was right. She could feel her panties, or what had once been her panties, bulging between her thighs, thick and crinkly, ready to contain all her babyish messes. She was wearing a nappy! And no sooner had she been dragged back to stand in front of her podium, Isabelle felt her bladder let go. She knew she ought to keep quiet, to not alert anyone else to what was happening, but as the stream of warm pee-pee gushed into her pants and soaked into her new padded underwear, she couldn’t help herself.
“Ewww!” she whined, hiccupping between her breaths and hopping awkwardly on the spot as if she was trying to jump away from the icky, wet feeling between her legs. “Ew! Ew! EW! Make it stop! Please! I don’t wanna be incontinent! I don’t wanna wear diapers! EWWW!”
“Awww,” Jacob cooed. “Does little Isabelle have a soggy nappy? This is just part of your life now, sweetie. Unless you win the game you’ll just have to get used to it.” He walked up to the crying model and yanked up her dress, exposing the droopy diaper hanging between her thighs. He squeezed the front. “You sure did lots of pee-pee, baby!” he said happily. “But I think you can wait a little while longer for a change.” He turned back to the audience, grinning gleefully. “Just to remind everyone, the scores are as follows!” he called out, gesturing to the giant screen that was displaying their points:
Isabelle – 1
Kimberly – 0
Eily – 2
“And a quick refresher on the rules: the lady with the most points at the end of the game – that’s after all nine rounds – will win our fabulous cash prize, and get the opportunity to remove three of her penalties!”
Kimberly couldn’t stop sniffling pathetically. She’d lost all three of the rounds so far – now if she wanted to get out of this without any permanent changes, she’d have to win every single round that followed!
“Eily,” Jacob said suddenly, turning to the third woman on the stage, “although you’ve had a bit of a downgrade in the outfit department, you’re doing pretty well! How do you feel about Kimmy and Isabelle’s penalties?”
The truth was that Eily felt nothing but relief at not having ended up in nappies herself, but she knew she ought to press her advantage while the other girls were too busy crying like babies.
“I think they’re perfect,” she said, and she realised that she wasn’t even lying. “I think ending up in diapers for the rest of her life is exactly what someone as arrogant as Isabelle needs. She’s going to find it pretty hard to strut her stuff in a skimpy bikini now she’s not even potty trained, not to mention how ridiculous her bib and bonnet make her look.” Eily felt herself redden slightly as she thought about how absurd it was for her to be criticising another woman’s outfit when she herself was dressed up like a ditzy bimbo in a schoolgirl outfit, but she quickly pressed on. “And I told everyone before not to fall for Kimberly’s innocent act – she’s a college slut who’d steal your boyfriend in a second, and all the ladies out there should be relieved she’ll be too busy begging people to take her to the toilet to be thinking about seducing anyone.”
Kimberly and Isabelle shot her looks of fury through their tears, but Eily ignored them. She didn’t need them on her side. It was the audience she had to work on, and they were cheering and laughing along in agreement.
Jacob laughed as well, apparently delighted by her nastiness. “Well, thank you for your comments, Eily! But if you ask me, you’re just pleased Kimberly and Isabelle are off the playing field so all the fucking and sucking will be left for you – why else would you dress like such a whore?” He smirked at her, and Eily gritted her teeth in anger. That bastard!
“But we’ve spent too much time talking! It’s time to move onto the fourth round. The theme this time is… Voice! So let’s see who’ll be learning to talk in a whole new way, shall we? Girls, you know what to do.”
The screens on their podiums light up, and Isabelle, Kimberly, and Eily made their choices. There were a few seconds of tense silence, and then the symbol’s they’d selected appeared on the front of their podiums for everyone to see. All three women felt their stomachs drop. Isabelle had chosen paper, Kimberly had chosen rock, and Eily had chosen scissors.
“Ooh, sorry girls,” Jacob said, not looking sorry at all, “but that means it’s another triple loss!” The crowd roared with pleasure. “Let’s see what penalties we’ve got in store for the three of you this time, shall we? Starting with Eily, the penalties for everyone’s favourite sexy schoolgirl are… Sweet and Innocent! Or Dirty Talk!”
Eily cringed. It was bad enough that she was dressed up as a slutty schoolgirl – would she have to talk like one as well? It seemed like her choices were to speak with the ridiculous voice of a chaste little girl, to contrast her skanky outfit, or to lean into the theme even more and end up sounding like sound sex-crazed fucktoy. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of either. What was the point of getting the audience on side if all her options were going to be terrible?!
“And for our resident diaper-dependent baby-woman,” Jacob continued, “the choices are… Childish Vocabulary! Or Baby Babble!”
Isabelle felt her heart sink even further. The game was trying to turn her into some kind of babyish freak!
“And for the cutest adult toddler on stage,” Jacob went on, flashing a wink at Kimberly, “the options are… Cute Lisp! Or Always Rhyming!”
Kimberly’s kip trembled, but she supposed the options weren’t as bad as what the other two had. Still, she couldn’t decide which was worse. Always Rhyming sounded like she’d be forced to speak in stupid rhymes whenever she spoke! The very idea of it made her face redden. But was talking with a dumb, babyish lisp really any better?
“Cast your votes everyone!” Jacob called, “Let’s see just how adorable we can make our three little ladies!”
“And the results are in!” Jacob announced happily. “Let’s see what’s going to happen to the voices of these three little cuties! Up first is Eily! The penalty for our sexy schoolgirl will be… Sweet and Innocent!”
Eily gasped as she felt a tingling inside her skull. “No!” she squealed, and her commanding, sneering tone had already changed. Her voice was now high-pitched and little-girlish. “Pretty please don’t make me sweet and innocent! Oh gosh, that would be awful!”
For a moment she just stood there, her expression frozen, but then she clapped her hand over her mouth and blushed to the roots of her hair.
The audience laughed, and Eily felt herself shaking with anger. They were treating her like a joke!
“Please don’t laugh at me!” she whined. “I promise I’m a good little girl!” Her mouth dropped open in horror. That wasn’t what she’d tried to say at all! She’d tried to shout, to yell at them to stop laughing, to insist that she was a serious businesswoman! What had these bastards done to her?!
She rounded on Jacob, but he just smirked at her. “I think your new voice suits you, Eily,” he said. “Although I’m not sure I believe you’re a ‘good little girl’. That skimpy little outfit of yours says otherwise!” Eily was still trembling with fury, but there was nothing she could do. She had no way to express herself except to scowl. She just had to win this competition and get back to normal! She had to! Nobody would ever take her seriously again if she ended up stuck like this! Her subordinates would laugh themselves stupid!
“And moving on,” Jacob called, turning back to the crowd with a grin, “the penalty for little miss pee-pee pants will be… Childish Vocabulary!”
Isabelle’s lip trembled. Little miss pee-pee pants? Her soggy nappy squelched between her thighs as she squirmed on the spot, and she shivered in disgust. But at least Baby Babble hadn’t one, she thought miserably. Although the prospect of speaking like a little girl for the rest of her days was still enough to send a thrill of horror down her spine. She felt the tingling inside her head again as the changes took effect. Just how childish did it mean?
The audience were cheering again. Cheering and laughing at her punishment, at her new nickname. Isabelle felt her anger rising. Who cared what the crowd thought of her? It didn’t even matter anyway when the penalties were all as bad as each other!
“Stop laughing you stupid poo-poo heads!” she shouted, and then she turned as bright red as Eily. The crowd’s laughter seemed to double in intensity. “Nooo!” Isabelle wailed. “Everyone’s gonna think I’m a big dumb-dumb baby if I talk like this!”
“Yes, they certainly will,” Jacob agreed happily. “But it’s only fitting. You’re not even potty trained, Isabelle! Aren’t you supposed to be twenty-seven? What does that make you if not a ‘big dumb-dumb baby’?” he mocked.
Isabelle seethed with anger, but Jacob was already moving on.
“And lastly,” he said, “the penalty for the cutest little tot on stage will be… Cute Lisp! Congratulations, Kimberly! And congratulations to all you girls! It seems like all three of you are going to sound absolutely adorable from now on!”
Kimberly too felt the strange tingling inside her brain as the nanomachines did their work. “A withp?!” she squealed, blushing as hard as either of the other girls as the crowd’s laughter crashed over her. She couldn’t even say it right! How would anyone be able to understand her?! “No!” she shrieked. “I don’t wike thith! I thound tho thtupid!” How could she ever become a lawyer with this ridiculous lisping voice? She imagined herself striding around the courtroom, trying to look serious. My cwient ith innothent! Nobody would hire someone like that! But that meant she’d have to keep her stupid pigtails for the rest of her life! Because there was no way she’d be keeping toddler clothes and training pants. And that was still assuming she won every single round to come! Kimberly felt an icy coldness creeping over her as she realised she may well be facing a life of pissy pull-ups and utter dependence on her loving but domineering boyfriend to take care of her. She couldn’t think of anything more demeaning!
But then she felt a sudden pressure in her bladder, a pressure that became almost uncontrollable as soon as it had appeared. Kimberly let out a squeak of surprise, and her hands shot to her crotch at once, pressing down on the front of her pull-ups through her overalls.
“What’s the matter, Kimmy?” Jacob asked lightly, but there was a knowing smile on his face. The audience were beginning to titter and cheer as well.
“I gotta… I need to…” Kimberly looked up into his face desperately. She had to go to the bathroom now! “Pweathe!” she begged, “I weally need to pee!”
Jacob chuckled and snapped his fingers, and Kimberly turned in time to see one of the stagehands hurrying out from backstage with a pink, plastic training potty in his hands.
“No!” Kimberly shouted at once, watching as the stagehand deposited the toddler’s potty right in the middle of the stage, facing the audience. “I want… I want a toilet!”
Jacob just chuckled again. “You’re far too little for toilets, Kimmy!” he said with delight. “Potties are much more suitable for little girls who still need pull-ups!”
Kimberly wanted to retort, but at that moment she was a spasm from her bladder, and she felt a tiny squirt of pee enter her training pants. She bit her lip and whined. She didn’t have a choice! She tottered forwards awkwardly, her hands still pressed against her crotch. Was she really going to use a training potty in front of everyone in the audience? In front of everyone watching at home?!
But when she reached the little plastic seat, she realised that her head was blank. She looked down at the potty in confusion. What did she have to do next?
“What’s the matter, Kimmy?” Jacob taunted. “Don’t you need to do a wee-wee?”
“I don’t… I don’t…” Kimberly searched through her mind frantically. “I don’t know how!” She squirmed on the spot. It was getting harder and harder to hold in her pee. There was another spasm in her bladder, and another trickle of pee-pee into her padded pants. What did she have to do?! Did she wear the potty like a hat? She picked up the plastic thing and placed it upside down on her head. Was this right?
The crowd roared with laughter, and Kimberly wished she could sink into the floor and disappear. But more than anything she wished she knew how to use the potty!
“Pweathe!” she begged in her lisping baby voice as she clutched between her legs and hopped from foot to foot in a ridiculous potty dance, the plastic potty sitting atop her pigtailed head completing the look, making her appear utterly absurd. “Pweathe help me go pee!”
With tears of laughter in his eyes, Jacob stepped forward and lifted the potty off Kimberly’s head. “Let me help, sweetheart,” he said kindly, but there was a note of mocking condescension in his voice. He unhooked the straps of her overalls and pulled them expertly down her body, exposing her slender legs and the puffy pair of pull-ups wrapped around her bottom.
He tutted as he probed the front of her training pants with his fingers. “Uh-oh!” he announced. “It looks like someone’s already had a wittle accident! Some of your flowers have faded, Kimmy!”
Tears were falling down Kimberly’s cheeks now. “Pweathe!” she sobbed. There was yet another spurt of pee into her pull-ups, stronger this time. “I gotta go! I can’t howd it!”
“Alright then, Kimmy,” said Jacob gently, and he tugged her training pants down her legs to pool at her ankles with her overalls, and he lowered her bottom quickly onto the pink potty seat beneath her. At once, Kimberly let out a loud sigh of relief, and the sound, picked up by Jacob’s microphone, of tinkling liquid filled the hall.
The crowd continued to laugh and cheer while Kimberly did her tinkles on a plastic potty like a toddler. Isabelle and Eily watched with queasy expressions on their faces. Even in her icky wet diapers, Isabelle was glad she wasn’t in Kimberly’s place.
When the trickling finally came to a stop, Kimberly burst into tears as the full weight of what had just happened hit her. Jacob helped her to her feet, cooing softly at her and pulling her slightly wet training pants back up her legs and into place. He redressed her in her childish overalls and led her, still sobbing, back to her place behind her podium.
“There, there, Kimmy,” he cooed, patting the crying young woman’s bottom. “You were such a big girl for going pee-pee on the potty! And only a little bit of tinkle in your pull-ups! I’m sure your Daddy will be very proud of you.” He turned back to the audience. “Sorry about that interruption, folks!” he said. “But when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go! But why don’t we move on to the fifth round? The theme of the penalties this round will be… Habits! That’s quite a wide category of embarrassingly babyish little traits our ladies could end up with! Now, are you ready girls? It’s time to play… Babe! Or! Billionaire!”
The three women made their choices, and a moment later they lit up on the front of their podiums. Kimberly drew a shaky breath of relief when she saw the results – she’d chosen rock again, and both the other girls had chosen scissors. Her first success!
Eily clenched her jaw tightly. What kind of ‘habits’ did these freaks have in mind?
Isabelle gulped, and with a nasty jolt in her stomach, she realised this was her fourth penalty, meaning she was going to be stuck with one of her alterations forever, even after she won the competition. She felt sick to her stomach. Which one would she keep? She had to get rid of the diapers. The yucky, pissy thing felt horrible drooping between her legs. But she couldn’t be stuck wearing ridiculous bibs and bonnets permanently either! Would she have to be stuck with the vocabulary of a dumb toddler for the rest of her days? Isabelle squeezed her eyes shut. She could only pray that her new habit wasn’t too bad…
“And the options for Isabelle,” Jacob called, “are… Little Nudist! Or Babyish Expressions!”
Isabelle felt her chest tighten, and tears sprang to her eyes. Little Nudist sounded like she’d be ending up naked a lot, and preventing that was one of the reasons she’d come on this stupid show in the first place! But Babyish Expressions sounded awful as well!
“And the options for Eily,” Jacob continued, “are… Oral Fixation! Or I Love My Teddy!”
Eily cringed. She had a good idea what the game meant by Oral Fixation, and I Love My Teddy seemed like it would make her carry around a stuffed animal like some stupid, anxious little girl. She couldn’t decide which would be worse.
“So what will it be?” Jacob asked the audience. “Will the woman who never wants to do another nude photo-shoot end up with a compulsion to strip off all her clothes and run around with her bare bottom and boobies out? Or will she find her beautiful face making babyish expressions on a regular basis – pouting when she’s grumpy, grinning dimly whenever she’s happy, and scrunching up cutely whenever she fills her nappy? And what about everyone’s favourite slutty schoolgirl? Will she develop the urge to have something between her pretty lips to suck on at all times? Or will she be stuck carrying around an adorable little friend to talk to and play with wherever she goes? Vote now!”
“That’s it for voting this round!” Jacob called out. “Let’s see the results!” He turned to face the giant screen. “For Isabelle, the winning penalty is… Babyish Expressions! Congratulations, Izzy! I’m sure you’re going to look adorable!”
Isabelle felt the now-familiar tingling in her head as the nanites did their work, and only a few moments later, the results became clear. An exaggerated-looking frown appeared on her beautiful face, and her bottom lip jutted out in a childish pout.
“No!” she whined, as the mirror was brought out from behind stage and stood in front of her. “I look like such a stupid-head!” She tried to control her facial muscles, to settle her absurdly babyish expression into something more mature, but all she managed to do was scrunch up her face even more, like she was a toddler on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Combined with the frilly bonnet that framed her face and the bonnet that covered her cleavage, she looked completely ridiculous.
“Awww,” Jacob cooed tauntingly, “you’ve got such a cute grumpy-face, Izzy! It’ll be worth teasing you just to see that precious little pout of yours!”
Isabelle just whimpered in reply. What was she going to do?! Even if she won, she’d be stuck with one of her penalties forever! Why on Earth had she agreed to come on this stupid show?
“Moving on to Eily,” Jacob said, “the winning penalty is… Oral Fixation! A very fitting choice for our faux-innocent little minx!”
Eily felt her head beginning to tingle. She shifted uncomfortably in her skimpy little schoolgirl outfit. It felt so horrible, so invasive, knowing there were machines fiddling about inside her head, changing her behaviours.
“It’s almost a shame we won’t be hearing that innocent little voice so much, Eily,” Jacob went on, “but I think you’ll be far too busy putting those plump lips of yours to good use.”
Eily scowled at him furiously and opened her mouth – forgetting momentarily that her new voice would pass whatever insults she tried to use though a pathetic little-girly filter – but before any words could come out, she suddenly felt a strange emptiness between her lips. Her chest seemed to tighten with anxiety. All she could think about what how empty she felt. A hole waiting to be filled. And before she even knew what she was doing, the businesswoman had shoved her thumb into her mouth and begun sucking on it eagerly.
The audience cheered and wolf-whistled as Eily’s thumb started sliding wetly in and out of her mouth. Eily felt her face turning bright red. She wanted to stop, but it was as though her thumb was being pulled into her mouth like a magnet, and the more the audience laughed and jeered, the more her anxiety built, and the more her anxiety built, the more desperately she wanted something between her lips.
“You look very cute, Eily,” said Jacob, “although I would have thought you were a little old to still be sucking your thumb. But you just don’t feel right without something shoved between those lovely red cockwrappers of yours, do you?”
“No, Sir,” Eily said demurely, her words barely audible around her thumb. Fuck you, she thought inside her head. Fuck this evil game! When she won she was going to sue the pants off all of them!
“Good girl,” said Jacob with a wink. He turned back to the audience. “Remember everyone!” he called, gesturing towards the giant screen. “These are the points as they stand thus far – every round the girls win, or rather don’t lose, earns them a point. And there are only five more rounds to go!”
The screen displayed their scores:
Isabelle – 1
Kimberly – 1
Eily – 2
“Now, let’s move on to the sixth round, shall we?” Jacob grinned. “The theme for this round-”
But he was suddenly cut off by a gasp from Isabelle. All eyes turned to the bonnet and bib-clad young woman as one hand shot to her lower belly and the other to her bottom. There was a moment of silence, and then the gorgeous swimsuit model let out a loud, involuntary grunt. Her beautiful face scrunched up, her knees wobbled and bent, and Isabelle started helplessly loading her nappy in front of all of them.
The crowd burst into laughter while Isabelle continued to grunt and strain, her crimson face screwed up, as if in concentration, as she pooped her pants in front of the whole studio audience and the millions of people watching at home.
“Noooo!” Isabelle wailed, breaking down into hysterical tears as she finished filling her diapers. “I made a stinky!” she sobbed. “I don’t wanna be incon… incon… I wanna be potty trained again! I don’t wanna make yuck-yuck in my pants! Waaaaah!”
Kimberly and Eily watched with nauseous expressions on their faces as their fellow contestant messed herself like a baby, knowing it could easily have been them in her place.
“There, there, darling,” Jacob cooed gently, walking over to stroke Isabelle reassuringly on her back. “It’s okay. That’s what your nappies are for, sweetheart.”
Isabelle just cried incoherently, and Jacob, grinning broadly, lifted up the back of her tight black dress to expose her sagging nappy to the cameras. Then he hooked a finger into the waistband and pulled it out to peek instead.
“Oh wow, you really had to go, didn’t you Izzy?” he asked, chuckling. “Aren’t you glad we put you in Pampers? You would have made such a big mess otherwise!” He let the waistband of her diapers snap back into place. “But I think you can wait a little while for a change. Since you’re incontinent now, you’ll have to get used to squishing around in stinky pants, and we’ve got to move onto the sixth round!” He walked back into the center of the stage with a horrible look of sadistic satisfaction on his face. “Fittingly, the theme for this round will be… Nappies! Now of course, two of our contestants already have padded bottoms, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get a little creative! Let’s get going, girls! It’s time for Babe! Or! Billionaire!”
Eily frowned nervously, her thumb bobbing away in her mouth. What would losing this round mean for her? She wasn’t stuck in potty training like that brat Kimberly, nor was she a disgusting little incontinent pants-pooper like Isabelle. Did that mean she was safe?
The rock, paper, and scissor icons appeared on the screens on the backs of the girls’ podiums, and the three women made their choices, Isabelle barely able to see what she was selecting through her tears.
A moment later, their choices appeared on the front of their podiums for all to see. Eily felt an icy coldness spreading through her body at once. She’d chosen paper, and both other girls had chosen scissors. Kimberly and Isabelle sighed with relief, but Eily looked up at Jacob with fear in her eyes. If she hadn’t lost the potty training round, surely this one wouldn’t affect her, right?
“Uh-oh!” said Jacob happily. “I guess it’s back to nappies for you too, Eily! Let’s see…” He turned to the giant screen. “The choices for Eily’s new underwear are… Cloth Nappies! Or… Disposable Diapers! And for the third option… Training Pants!”
Eily mumbled something urgently behind her thumb. Then she yanked the drooly digit out of her mouth, blushing hotly. “But Sir!” she shrieked girlishly, “I don’t need to wear them!” She didn’t even have time to feel humiliated at how she’d automatically addressed him.
Jacob just chuckled. “You don’t understand, silly,” he said condescendingly. “That doesn’t matter. You’re going to wear nappies from now on. This is just to decide what kind.”
“But we already had the potty-training round!” Eily squealed.
“You’re still not understanding, sweetheart,” Jacob said, smiling sinisterly. “This isn’t about your potty-training level. You’ll still be completely continent after the audience makes its decision. You just won’t be able to use the toilet. You’ll be able to hold it as long as you like, of course, but sooner or later you’ll be going in your pants. I imagine you’ll lose your potty training over time anyway, but it will be by a more natural method. No nanites needed!”
He turned back to the crowd. “So which is it going to be for our favourite schoolgirl slash businesswoman?” he asked them, grinning broadly. “Thick cloth nappies with oversized safety pins? Cute packs of pull-ups in her underwear drawer? Or crinkly disposables to fill her diaper pail with? Vote now!”
“And voting’s over!” Jacob announced, turning to look towards the giant screen facing the audience and the stage. “The result, by a considerable margin, is… Disposable Diapers! Congratulations, Eily! You’re going back to Pampers!”
Eily let out a shriek of horror, but the changes were already coming into effect. Her underwear alone had been unaltered by the nanomachines when her business suit had been turned into a skanky schoolgirl outfit, but now something far worse was happening to her panties. She could feel them thickening, bulging out between her legs, pushing her thighs apart, taking on a plasticky texture that crinkled noisily as they grew. Eily could do nothing but look down wide-eyed, her thumb jammed fearfully between her lips, as her undies transformed into an enormous disposable nappy, complete with a pattern of little teddies and blocks and rattles, just like the horrible thing hanging off Isabelle’s ass.
The audience cheered ecstatically when Eily’s diaper expanded below the hem of her tiny miniskirt, leaving at least two inches of puffy white padding totally exposed. Eily herself just sucked her thumb frantically, on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Now,” said Jacob slowly, “I’ll explain it again, since you’re just a ditzy little schoolgirl, Eily. You’re not incontinent. The nanites haven’t altered your bladder or bowel control in any way. But you’ll never use a toilet again. Not even a potty. Just like with your cute little uniform, you’ll find yourself totally unable to wear anything except a thick disposable diaper on your bottom, and the only way you’ll be able to take it off to swap it for a new one is when it’s soaked to the point of leaking or there’s a yucky mess in the back. Just like Izzy!” He walked over and jostled the seat of Isabelle’s loaded baby pants through her sexy black dress. Isabelle whimpered.
Eily sniffled. Her lower lip wobbled around her thumb. Then the tough, ice-queen businesswoman started to cry.
There was a chorus of ‘awwws’ from the crowd, and Jacob stepped over to pull Eily into a sympathetic cuddle, although it was ruined somewhat by the way he turned his head and winked at the audience.
“Pwease,” Eily begged in her silly little girl voice, burying her face in Jacob’s shirt, gasping and hiccupping between her tears. “I don’t… wanna be… a freak!” She hated herself for breaking down like this, for showing vulnerability. She knew it must have something to do with the changes the nanomachines had made to her voice, to her whole way of communicating, but that thought did nothing to comfort her – especially since she knew she’d be stuck this way unless she won the competition. And now she had another thing to get rid of. A huge, babyish diaper wrapped around her butt. The thought of having to use it made her feel sick to her stomach. She could just imagine her husband laughing his ass off at the sight of her.
“There, there, baby,” Jacob cooed, a hint of mockery still present in his tone. “You’re not a freak. I promise.” He pulled out of the cuddle and looked her in the eyes. “You’re a very cute little slut, even in nappies.”
Eily wanted to spit in his face. Instead she heard herself say, with a desperate childish eagerness, “Weally?!”
Everyone laughed. Jacob chuckled and tussled her hair. Then he turned back to the audience. “Well, we’re almost ready to move on to the next round, but there is one little thing we have to do first.” He turned to grin at Isabelle. “I think someone needs a diapee change!”
At once, a pair of stagehands rushed out and laid down a large plastic changing mat, right in the middle of the stage.
“Nooo!” Isabelle protested in a whiny voice. Tears welled up in her eyes again, and against her will, her face screwed up into the ‘grumpy-face’ Jacob had taunted her for earlier. “I don’t wanna!”
“You can’t run around in your smelly pants all day, little one,” Jacob teased, “no matter how much you may want to.”
“I wanna get changed!” Isabelle insisted angrily through her tears, “But not in fwont of evewyone! I don’t want evewyone to think I’m a big, dumb baby!”
“But you are a big, dumb baby, Izzy,” said Jacob patiently. “Just a big, dumb baby in a bonnet, a bib, and a stinky diaper. And unless you win the game, that’s all you’ll ever be. So you’d better get used to having your icky nappies changed in public, sweetie.”
Isabelle cried even harder as Jacob hoisted up her dress, exposing her soiled nappy, and lowered her gently onto the changing mat.
“Good girl,” he cooed, getting to work undoing the tapes on her adult-sized Huggies. “That’s a good baby.”
Although she was partially obscured from view by Jacob’s kneeling form, the audience cheered when Isabelle’s long, slender legs were lifted into the air, and they knew the swimsuit model was bottom-up like a baby for her diaper change.
Isabelle sobbed, but Jacob reached out to tickle her tummy, eliciting an involuntary gurgling giggle from the tearful woman.
“You’re being so good for Daddy, baby,” Jacob crooned as he wiped Isabelle’s messy bottom with a pack of baby wipes. “I’ll have you back in a nice, clean nappy in no time. I wonder how long it will be until you make it all yucky again!”
Isabelle wailed and covered her face with her hands, but Jacob was having the time of his life. “P-U!” he exclaimed, wrapping up Isabelle’s diaper and dumping it beside him. “What a little stinker you are, Izzy! It’s a good thing you’re pretty. Can you lift your bottom for me again, baby? I need to slip your clean nappy under that sexy little tushy of yours… That’s a good girl! There we are. Now you’re nice and comfy, and our floors are safe from all your icky little accidents. Win win!”
The audience clapped and cheered as Jacob pulled Isabelle to her feet. The woman was still hiding her scarlet face with her hands.
“Back behind your podium now, babykins,” Jacob said, delivering a hard swat to Isabelle’s padded rear. “And let’s begin the seventh round!”
Isabelle toddled back behind her podium, refusing to look up and make eye contact with anyone. As she did so, the giant screen flashed their current scores:
Isabelle - 2
Kimberly - 2
Eily – 2
“As you can see, we currently have a three way tie!” Jacob announced. “That means it’s anyone’s game! All three ladies are still in the running – although by this point, they’ve each managed to get four penalties, which means that even if they win, they’ll be stuck forever with at least one of the alterations they’ve been given thus far! So have a think, girls! If you win, which penalty are you going to keep?”
Eily sucked her thumb furiously. There was no way she was going to be stuck in fucking nappies for the rest of her life, forced to deliberately shit in her own pants like some kind of overgrown baby freak. But she couldn’t spend the rest of her days dressing like a schoolgirl either. And the idea of sucking her thumb or speaking like a sweet, innocent little girl forever were both enough to turn her stomach as well.
Isabelle cringed. She’d definitely be getting her potty training back, that was for sure. And she’d be getting rid of the absurd bonnet and bib too. But what next? She couldn’t go around talking in a dumb baby voice forever. She pouted stupidly. She’d have to be stuck making silly baby expressions for the rest of her life!
Kimberly shifted anxiously in her slightly wet pull-ups. Which penalty would she keep? Being sent back to potty training was certainly the worst one by far. She supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to have a pair of scruffy, babyish pigtails permanently. Or even to dress in dumb toddler-style overalls. And her lisp was a fairly tame punishment too. The idea of being stuck with any one of these at the beginning of the night would have been utterly horrifying, but compared to the kinds of penalties the other women had experienced, and the ones that could be yet to come, she realised now that they weren’t so terrible. Still, they’d be enough to make her a laughingstock in the legal career she wanted to pursue. But if she could just win the game, the amount of money she could make would make that bearable.
“Alright girls, let’s begin!” Jacob shouted. “You know the drill! The theme for this round will be… Body Modification!”
Their podiums lit up, and, with deep steading breaths, the three women made their decisions, all feeling sick at the thought of what body modifications the stupid game show might have in store for them. An instant later, their choices were revealed. Kimberly let out another sigh of relief. She’d got through another round. But Eily and Isabelle both squealed “No!” in unison. Kimberly had chosen paper, and both Eily and Isabelle had selected rock.
“Congratulations, girls!” Jacob called, while the audience applauded enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to find out how your bodies will be changing! Let’s see the penalties. For Eily, the options are… “Bimbo Boobs! Or… Bubble Butt!” He laughed. “I’m sensing a theme here!”
Eily nearly started crying again. The game master was trying to turn her into a babyish bimbo hooker! No matter what the outcome, she’d end up looking like a cheap skank!
“And for Isabelle,” Jacob continued, “the choices are… Embarrassing Tattoos! Or… Flat Chested!”
Isabelle gasped and clutched at her sizeable breasts. She couldn’t lose them! But the thought of what tattoos might end up permanently branded onto her body made her feel dizzy with fear.
“So what will it be, ladies and gentlemen?” Jacob asked, turning to the crowd. “Will our little businesswoman get a ridiculous pair of stripper tits to show off with her schoolgirl uniform? Or will she have a cute bubble butt to hide under her diapers? And what about everyone’s favourite swimsuit model? Will she get a selection of adorable tattoos? Or will she be saying bye-bye forever to those breasts she’s so proud of? Vote now!”
“Voting’s done for this round,” Jacob announced. “Let’s see the results! Starting with Eily, the winning penalty is… Bubble Butt!”
Eily gasped as she felt a sudden tingling in her rear. The audience cheered, and she heard several catcalls too as her bum began to swell and tighten. She was too shocked to even protest as Jacob pulled her out from behind her podium, spun her around, and flipped up the back of her tiny skirt to expose her Pampered bottom. Her flat ass didn’t stay that way for long – soon her huge adult nappy was straining to contain a round bubble butt. Eily looked over her shoulder and down at her rear with her mouth hanging open. She now had a bottom that made Isabelle’s look positively plain by comparison – or at least she would have had if it wasn’t for the absurd diaper wrapped around it, clashing ridiculously with her new highly-feminine rump. She looked like a fetish pornstar!
“Excellent!” Jacob said happily, delivering a couple of swats to what little of Eily’s tushy wasn’t covered by her nappy and making it jiggle. “That’s better. More fitting for a sexy schoolgirl like you, wouldn’t you agree Eily? Do you like your new patootie?”
Eily seethed internally. “No, mister,” she heard herself say politely.
“No?” Jacob asked in mock surprise. “Are you sure, sweetie? Because I think it makes you look like a total whore.”
Eily wished she could claw out his eyes. She could hear the audience tittering in the background. “Dat’s not vewy nice,” she pouted.
“Sure it is, silly girl,” Jacob corrected her, slowly and patronisingly. “I’m telling you I think you have a very sexy bottom. Isn’t that a nice thing to say to someone? That they’re sexy?”
Eily tried to tell him to fuck off and die. Instead she said, “Uh-uh! Fank you, Jacob!”
The crowd laughed, and Eily, blushing furiously, shot them a look of loathing. Jacob chuckled and sent her back behind a podium with another pat on her ass, then he turned his attention back to the screen. “Moving on to this round’s second little loser, it’s time to see what Izzy’s penalty is! The result for our favourite little model will be… Flat Chested!”
Isabelle screamed and clutched desperately at her chest. The audience laughed and cheered delightedly at her panic.
“Oh dear, Izzy,” Jacob chuckled. “Looks like it’s time to say bye-bye to your precious boobies, honey!”
“No!” Isabelle wailed, even as her breasts began to shrink in her hands. “No! No! No!” Her D-cup tits turned into C-cups, then B-cups, then A-cups, until they finally flattened against her chest entirely, leaving the formerly well-endowed model flat as a board behind her bib. “Give them back!” she sobbed.
“Sorry sweetie, but you know the rules,” said Jacob, mock pityingly. “All changes are permanent unless you win the game and undo them. So you’d better knuckle down and win unless you want to be stuck with that pair of mosquito bites for the rest of your life!”
“But it’s a big stupid game of wock, paper, scissors!” Isabelle cried, furious tears pouring down her cheeks as she mourned the loss of her womanly breasts. “It’s not fair! How am I supposed to work harder?”
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Jacob said, shrugging. “You’re the one playing, not me. And speaking of which, it’s time to move on to the next round! Remember, Kimmy is currently in the lead, but only by one point! There are only three rounds left, but that’s still time plenty of time for things to change! Now, it’s time to play Babe! Or! Billionaire! The theme for round eight will be… Education! Let’s see what level our three contestants are going to end up at!”
The screens on the back of the women’s podiums illuminated their choices, and they made their decisions, all three wondering what changes to their education might mean exactly. Kimberly in particular made her selection with trembling fingers. She’d almost finished law school! She couldn’t just lose all the work she’d done! A moment later, the fronts of their podiums lit up.
Isabelle burst into tears again, Eily squealed, and Kimberly felt a trickle of pee escape into her pull-ups. Isabelle had chosen rock, Eily had chosen paper, and Kimberly had chosen scissors. All three of them had lost.
The audience broke into wild applause, and Jacob clapped too. “Congratulations, girls! Another three-way tie! It’s looks like none of you are getting away this round. Let’s see what the penalties are! Starting with Isabelle, the options are… Preschool Level! Or Special Education!”
Isabelle felt like her heart had dropped into her stomach. She was still preoccupied with the strange emptiness on her chest where her perky tits used to be, and now she had yet another life-altering change to be worried about. Preschool Level?! And what exactly did Special Education mean?
“Then for Kimberly,” Jacob continued, “the choices are… Primary School Level! Or Totally Illiterate!”
Kimberly whimpered and squirmed in her slightly wet training pants. Her future as a lawyer would be totally ruined! She’d either forget everything she’d learned since the age of eleven, or she’d end up as some moron who couldn’t even read or write!
“And lastly,” said Jacob, “the options for Eily’s penalties are… Secondary School Level! Or Sex Education!”
Eily cringed. Secondary School Level didn’t sound so bad compared to everyone else’s penalties, but the thought of ending up even more like a ditzy schoolgirl was enough to send a humiliated flush to her cheeks. And what did Sex Education mean?
“Alright viewers,” Jacob called, “it’s time to vote! What will it be? Will Izzy find herself needing to start her education again from kindergarten? Or will our little flat-chested, diaper-dependent swimsuit model end up in the special needs class this time? And how about Kimmy? Will our big toddler have to go back to primary school if she ever wants to finish her law degree? Or will she get to try and continue her career as a woman who can’t even read or write? And lastly, what will happen to little miss Eily? Will she get the education level to match her uniform? Or will she find all the knowledge she gained in education replaced by something a little more appropriate for a woman with an ass so clearly built for fucking? Make your decisions now!”
“Voting’s over, ladies and gentlemen,” said Jacob. “Let’s see the results! Starting with little baby Belle, the winning penalty is… Preschool Level!”
Isabelle started to cry again. She couldn’t even tell if it was relief at not having got Special Education, or just despair at the thought of having all her knowledge since preschool wiped away.
“Awww,” Jacob cooed. “Too bad, Isabelle! But how much did you really need all that education anyway? Models don’t need to know things. They just need to look pretty. But then, your days as a model might well be over after this… I’m not sure anyone will want to hire a nappy-filling, bib and bonnet-clad girl with no tits to wear their designer swimsuits. But maybe you can model swim diapers or something.”
“Waaaaah!” Isabelle cried as she felt the tingling in her head as all her education, every bit of book-learning since she’d been three years old, leaked out of her brain forever.
“Aww, it looks like baby Izzy’s throwing a wittle tantwum!” Jacob taunted. “Tell you what, honey. I’m going to ask you a simple question, and if you can give me the correct answer, I’ll undo the last penalty. Isn’t that kind of me?”
Isabelle looked up desperately.
“I want you to tell me… What’s three plus four?”
Isabelle just stared blankly up at him. Then her face screwed up with concentration as she tried her best to answer the question. Three plus four. That was easy. She just had to… had to… What did she have to do again?
“Tick tock, baby Belle,” Jacob said. “We can’t wait around forever. I need your answer now, little girl. Surely you can tell me? It’s just a simple sum! A grown woman like you must know what three plus four is.”
Isabelle scowled furiously. She didn’t know! She’d just have to guess. “Um… two?” she answered with a pleading note in her voice.
The audience burst into laughter.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Jacob chuckled, “but the answer is seven! How can three plus four equal two, you silly thing? They’re both bigger!”
The expression of total moronic incomprehension that appeared on Isabelle’s face was enough to send the crowd into a fresh fit of hysterics.
Isabelle felt her face burning with shame. This wasn’t fair! She wasn’t stupid! She wasn’t! People had always thought that about her because of her good looks, but she’d always been one of the smartest people in her class at school. Now she’d be stuck as a total idiot! She wasn’t even sure she could count to ten anymore!
Still chuckling, Jacob turned to Kimberly. “Now, as fun as this is, we’d better move on. We’ve got two more ladies to punish. Let’s see what little Kimmy’s got in store for her! The winning penalty for our favourite potty-trainee is… Totally Illiterate!”
Kimberly whimpered and felt her pull-ups get a little wetter.
“Oh dear, sweetie,” Jacob went on, his voice faux-sympathetic, “I think it’s going to be a bit hard to be a lawyer when you can’t even read or write, isn’t it? So much for starting up your own practice. But maybe, just maybe, if you work really hard, by the end of the year your boyfriend will have taught you how to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar all by yourself!”
“No!” Kimberly cried, as the tingling began in her head. “Pleathe! I need to wead and wite! I wuv weading! Pweathe!”
“Sorry sweetheart,” said Jacob, “but you know I can’t bend the rules, not even for a little cutie like you. But even if you can’t read, you can still look at pretty picture books, okay darling?”
“I don’t wanna wead picture books!” Kimberly wailed. “I need to wead and wite for my caweer!”
“I’m sure a pretty little girl like you can find a way around that, Kimmy,” Jacob said dismissively. “You can always go and sit in the judge’s lap and ask, in your pretty wittle wisp, if he can read your notes for you.”
The audience cheered and laughed, and Kimberly flushed crimson with embarrassment.
“But now we need to move on to our final contestant. The penalty for Eily will be… Sex Education! Congratulations, Eily! I’m sure you learnt a lot of things in school and university that helped you run your business and so on, but our nanites are going to replace that with some knowledge that’s much more appropriate.”
He said the last word with a sinister smirk that sent Eily’s heart dropping into her stomach. She started to suck her thumb faster and faster as anxiety set in. She’d been hoping for Secondary Education. That hadn’t sounded so bad, and at least she knew what it was. But what had Jacob said about this one? That her knowledge would be replaced by something that fit a girl with a fuckable ass like her? She shifted uncomfortably behind her podium, unused to the large bubble butt contained by her thick nappy. She hoped it was something she wouldn’t have to get used to.
Without warning, she felt the tingling start, and she reached up instinctively to her head with one hand while the other worked away in her mouth. She racked her brain, urgently trying to figure out what knowledge she was losing and what was replacing it. Then her body went cold.
Eily was trying to think back to her time at the prestigious private school and university she’d attended, only there was nothing there. Instead, her mind was suddenly full of memories of the years she’d spent at Babygirl Academy of Bitches. But that couldn’t be right, Eily thought desperately. There was no such place!
Yet she could recall vividly mincing from classroom to classroom with the other students, giggling and talking about fashion and fucking. She remembered her teachers instructing them. Okay girls, today we’re going to learn all about how to give the bestest blowjobs! This morning’s lesson will be on ass-fucking! Who’s ready to learn about dressing like a hooker? She could recollect all the times she’d misbehaved and ended up over her teachers’ knees, and that time she’d pissed her pants and started bawling during a spanking, earning her the nickname “Crybaby Eily” and a month in pull-ups.
“No!” Eily shrieked, yanking her thumb out of her mouth. A line of drool still connected it to her lips. “That’s not me! That didn’t happen! It didn’t!”
“Sorry, sweetie,” said Jacob, “but to you it did. That’s what your education was now. Maths and English might be beyond you, but you know everything there is no know about getting a man to cum in your ass. I bet a sexy little thing like you will be able to manage it even with a pissy diaper hanging off your hips!”
He turned back to the audience, leaving Eily staring blankly into space, her face a mask of horror as her mind finished filling with the knowledge of how to suck cock in just the right way, how to give the perfect titjob, how to clench her pussy and her ass to bring any man straight to orgasm…
“Well,” Jacob said happily, “it’s time to move on to the ninth round of Babe! Or! Billionaire! Remember, this is the second to last round! The theme for the penalties this time will be… Emotional Control! Alright girls, you know the drill. It’s time to make your choices!”
The women’s podiums flashed their options, and the girls made their decisions. They weren’t exactly sure what changes to their emotional control might mean, but there knew it would be nothing good. A moment later, and their choices appeared on the fronts of their podiums for everyone to see. The crowd cheered, and Isabelle and Eily both breathed sighs of relief.
“Nooo!” Kimberly wailed. She’d chosen scissors again, but both Isabelle and Eily had selected rock.
“Ooh, sorry Kimmy,” Jacob taunted, “but there goes your lead! It looks like we’re going to have a three-way tie before the final round. Isn’t that exciting? Anyone could win! But before that, it’s time to vote on what’s going to happen to Kimberly’s emotional control. And the options are… Terrible Twos! Or… Dependent on Daddy! So what will it be? Will little Kimmy find herself stuck permanently in her tantrum-throwing phase? Or will she find herself developing an overwhelming attachment to her Dada? Vote now!”
“And the results are in for little Kimmy!” Jacob announced happily. “The winning penalty is… Dependent on Daddy!”
“Pwease don’t!” Kimmy cried. As with many of the other penalties, she hadn’t been able to decide which would be worse, but the thought of the nanites in her body messing around with her emotions in this way, making her dependent on her boyfriend, was enough to make her sick. The tingling was starting in her head though, and already she could feel a strange neediness building within her, an achiness in her heart that made her look around the stage a little desperately, as if hoping to see her boyfriend. Someone to look after her. Someone to give her a big cuddle. She could feel her eyes filling with tears. It had been ages since she’d seen Daddy! Paul. Paul, not Daddy. But it must have been hours and hours since she’d left home… And now he was so far away! What if she needed to go potty again?
“Awww,” Jacob cooed mockingly. “Do I spot an unhappy looking wittle girl? Does baby miss her Dada? I think she does!” He turned to face behind the stage. “Paul, why don’t you come on out? I think your little princess wants you!”
Kimberly’s eyes widened as her boyfriend stepped out onto the stage, waving at the audience and flashing them a quick grin before turning his attention to her.
“Daddy!” she squealed. The words had burst from her mouth before she could even think about it. She blushed with embarrassment at her outburst, and the audience were laughing at her, but at that moment all she could really think about was the man standing in front of her. She felt like a homesick little girl, head over heels in love with her Daddy. Before she could stop herself, she flung herself forwards into his arms and buried her face in his chest. Tears were running down her cheeks. “I missed you, Daddy!” she wailed.
The crowd aaaw’d as Paul wrapped his arms tightly around his infantilized girlfriend and cuddled her tightly. “Daddy missed you too, little one,” he said gently, but the audience could see a smirk playing about his lips. “But I don’t think you’re going to be gone from my sight for long after today, are you baby? You’ve been learning your place.”
Kimberly mewled in indignation, but couldn’t bring herself to push her boyfriend away. He wanted this! He wanted her to be stuck this way!
“Well, isn’t that adorable?” Jacob asked the crowd. “But I think it’s time to move on! The game is almost over. Remember folks, all three of our contestants are now tied for first place! Which means, of course, that they’re also all tied for last place… Whoever wins this next round will go home with all the money they could wish for, as well as the ability to remove three of their penalties! But the losers will end up stuck just as they... for good.”
Isabelle, Kimberly, and Eily all felt a shiver run down their spine.
“But before we begin the tenth and final round, I think it’s worth going over exactly which penalties our little ladies have! With so many nasty, life-altering punishments, it can get a little tricky to keep track sometimes!” He gestured towards Isabelle first. “Baby Belle is stuck wearing bibs and bonnets at all times, as well as the thick nappies that are necessary after our nanites rendered her totally incontinent. She also has an adorably childish vocabulary, and makes the cutest, most babyish facial expressions you can imagine. On top of that, we shrank our sexy swimsuit model’s big tits to make her flat as a board, and stripped away all of her formal education since preschool!”
The audience clapped and cheered, while Isabelle blushed and showed them all a big, exaggerated pout.
“Next we have little Kimmy!” Jacob went on. “Our wannabe lawyer’s hairstyle will always form into a pair of precious pigtails regardless of how she tries to rearrange it, and she’ll find that she’s unable to wear any clothes that don’t meet the definition of ‘toddler style’, like the adorable overalls she’s rocking now with the darling baby ducky on the front. She’s also stuck in potty training, making the pull-ups she’s got underneath a necessity if she doesn’t want to risk leaving puddles on the floor wherever she goes. We also gave her a cute lisp, took away her ability to read and write, and finally made her emotionally dependent on her boyfriend-turned-Daddy, Paul!”
The crowd cheered and applauded again. Paul waved and smiled back, while Kimberly hid her face in his arms.
“Moving on to our last contestant, we have Eily!” Jacob continued, gesturing towards the third woman. “She’s swapped boring business-suits for sexy schoolgirl outfits, and her stern, commanding tone for a sweeter, more innocent speaking pattern. We also gave her an overpowering oral fixation; if her thumb’s not jammed in her mouth, then you can bet it’s only because she wants something else shoved between her pretty lips. In addition, despite still possessing her continence, she’s back in disposable diapers full-time, and will find herself unable to go to the bathroom anywhere except in her pants! But this girl’s not a total baby… She’s got a hot bubble butt, and she’s spent the last decade learning how to suck and fuck as good as any whore – or at least, that’s what she remembers doing courtesy of our nanomachines!”
The crowd laughed and clapped again. Eily scowled. Her thumb bobbed furiously in her mouth.
“But now it’s time we move onto the tenth and final round!” Jacob announced. “This one’s an audience favourite… It’s the career change round!”
The three women felt a fresh surge of fear. A career change?!
Their podium screens came to life once more, revealing their choices for the final time. Rock, paper, or scissors. With horrible pits of anxiety in their stomachs, the three girls made their selections. A few moments of silence passed, and then the front of their podiums lit up.
At once, the audience started cheering wildly, while Isabelle, Kimberly, and Eily stared at each other’s choices as if they couldn’t accept what they were seeing. Isabelle had chosen rock, Kimberly had chosen paper, and Eily had chosen scissors.
“Uh-oh!” Jacob sang over the noise of the crowd. “It looks like we’ve got yet another three-way tie! Sorry ladies, but that means you all lose!”
For a moment, none of the women moved a muscle. Then Kimberly burst into tears. A second later, Isabelle began to scream. Her hands were clutching at her bonnet-clad head, and her face was a mask of horror. She bolted from the stage as fast as she could run with her enormous nappy pushing her legs apart, still letting out a piercing, inarticulate shriek of terror. She didn’t get far before the stagehands grabbed her and started dragging her back, screaming madly all the way. Eily just stared ahead of her in shock as the reality of what was happening hit her. She’d lost. She wouldn’t be getting any money. She wouldn’t be getting back to normal. She’d be spending the rest of her life as an overgrown diapered schoolgirl.
“Oh gosh,” she said, beginning to hyperventilate. “Oh gosh. Oh gosh. Oh gosh.” Her nappy started to sag and discolour as she pissed herself out of fear. The businesswoman’s bladder, even though it was unweakened by any of the penalties, wasn’t strong enough to deal with the prospect of her future as a cutesy, thumbsucking, fat-assed schoolgirl who thought about fucking all the time and still pottied in her pants. The audience laughed and cheered even louder when they saw her diaper drooping even lower beneath her tiny schoolgirl skirt. Eily started to scream as well, and several more stagehands rushed out to hold her in place.
With the three women busy crying their eyes out or being restrained by the staff, Jacob turned back to the audience with an enormous smile. “Our contestants might be a little too distracted to hear, but it’s time to choose their fates! What new careers do they have in store for them? What will they spend the rest of their lives doing? Starting with Isabelle, the options are… Pampers Poster Girl! Or… Back to Kindergarten! For Kimberly, the choice is… Potty Training Starlet! Or… College Mascot! And lastly, for Eily, it’s between… Office Slut! Or… Truck-Stop Whore!” Jacob spoke quickly because the three girls were making a lot of noise behind him, and causing quite a scene on the stage, thrashing and shrieking and sobbing and stomping their feet.
“The choice is yours!” he shouted over the ruckus. “What will happen to baby Izzy? Will she start modelling diapers instead of bikinis? Or will she be out of the workforce entirely, sent off to a special Adult Kindergarten to join a couple of our other former contestants? And what should happen to little Kimmy? Will she end up recording sing-along videos to help other girls master the potty, a skill she’ll never learn herself? Or will she be sent back to her university to be their adorable little mascot? And what about Eily? Will our favourite businesswoman find herself demoted from CEO to slutty little office intern? Or will she be getting kicked out of her company entirely and made to earn a living turning tricks for truckers – at least the ones who don’t mind dealing with her pissy diapers first! Vote now, and thank you for playing Babe! Or! Billionaire!”
“What letter is this, Izzy?” Miss Olivia asked brightly, pointing at the board.
Isabelle’s face screwed up in concentration beneath her bonnet. “Umm… F?”
“Oooh, not quite Izzy! It’s a K, a kicking kuh!”
Isabelle blushed as the other girls in the class giggled at her mistake. There were two of them – Tracy, and Freya, and Isabelle hated them.
“Can you tell me what this letter is, Tracy?” Miss Olivia asked.
“That’s a P!” she said smugly, “Just like Izzy does in her nappies!”
Tracy and Freya burst into a fit of giggles, but Miss Olivia just said, “Good girl, Tracy! It is a P! Izzy does go pee in her nappies too, you’re right, but that kind of pee is spelled P, E, E, and it’s a word rather than a letter.”
“Yes, Miss Olivia!” Tracy chirped.
“Well, I think that’s enough of the alphabet for one day,” said their teacher. “And Izzy, don’t worry about your mistakes,” she said gently, turning to look at her. “Letters are hard! I know you haven’t made any progress at all learning your alphabet since you started here, but you’ve got plenty of time to learn, okay?”
Isabelle pouted and crossed her arms over her bib, trying to avoid her classmate’s smirks. She knew she’d known the alphabet before, that it had been easy, but now the very idea that she could tell the difference between all the different lines and squiggles seemed almost beyond belief. Singing was easier than reading, but even then she struggled.
“Alright girls, playtime!” Miss Olivia announced. “But you hang back a moment, Izzy. I smell a stinky wet nappy, and I’m pretty sure I know who the culprit is!”
Isabelle blushed and squirmed in her seat while Tracy and Freya got up to go play. Her diaper had been drooping obviously even before she’d sat down for their afternoon lesson, so it was hardly a secret that she’d soaked it, but it was still an indignity to have it broadcast to everyone in such a demeaning way. She got to her feet, her nappy hanging heavily between her legs, and allowed Miss Olivia to take her hand and lead her over to the classroom’s changing table. The teacher helped her onto it, and expertly got to work changing her soggy pants.
“That’s a good girl,” she cooed gently as she undid the tapes. “Nice and still for Miss Olivia.” She pulled down the front. “P-U!” she exclaimed, pinching her nose and making Isabelle cringe. “These are soaked to the brim, missy! What did you do in these?” When Isabelle didn’t answer, she reached out and prodded her tummy playfully. “Come on, Izzy. Tell Miss Olivia. What did you do in your diapies?”
Isabelle blushed angrily. She wasn’t some performing monkey! She tried to spit out I pissed, but what came out instead was, “I did tinkle-time!”
Miss Olivia tittered. “That’s right, sweetie! You did tinkle-time in your pants! What a lovely phrase!”
Isabelle scowled. It was something her sister often said, but it had quickly become part of her own childish-filtered vocabulary.
Miss Olivia lifted her legs into the air by her ankles and quickly wiped her nether regions dry, pulled the sopping wet Pampers out from under her bottom, and slid a dry one in its place. “There we go!” she said happily, as she finished taping a fresh adult nappy around the former model’s waist. “All done! Playtime for you too, Izzy!” She helped her charge off the changing table and gave her a pat on her bottom to send her on her way.
Now with dry pants, Isabelle headed out of the classroom and over to the play area. She passed a pair of white cotton undies that had been discarded on the floor, and a few paces later there was a pink top with the words “Little Troublemaker” emblazoned on the front. Isabelle looked up to see Tracy standing in the middle of the playroom in just her shoes and socks, her bare bottom showing and her huge silicon-filled boobs out for all to see. Freya was standing next to her in her pale blue Frozen dress, her teddy bear tangling from one hand.
Miss Hazel was standing in front of them, apparently giving Tracy a scolding for taking her clothes off. “Is kindergarten’s most famous little streaker at it again? Honestly, it’s such a struggle trying to keep anything on that cute bum of yours, Tracy!”
“I can’t help it…” Tracy mumbled, her cheeks bright red.
“I know you can’t, sweetie,” Miss Hazel laughed. “You’re just a silly little nudist now, aren’t you? Alright cutiepie, you can go nakie for playtime today. I won’t bother trying to get your knickers back on you this time. I’m sure you’ll just tug them right off again, won’t you, you little tot?”
Isabelle wandered over to a corner to play with some dollies, and allowed herself a smirk. She didn’t get many. Tracy’s compulsion to get naked was one of the penalties from the game of Babe or Billionaire she’d been part of, as were her huge bimbo breasts. Even though her own penalties were worse on balance, Isabelle couldn’t resist enjoying the other girl’s clear displeasure at wandering around nearly nude. Still, although her massive implants made her look more like a parody of sexiness than anything, Isabelle was a bit jealous. She put her hands beneath her bib and top to clutch at her flat chest. She wished she could have her own boobs back. But she knew she was stuck with the two pathetic little mosquito bites the game show had given her.
She hadn’t been playing with her toys very long when two shadows fell over her. She turned around and let out a squeak as she came face to face with Tracey’s bare pussy.
“Hi, baby,” said the naked woman, sneering down at her. Tracy and Freya liked nothing more than to gang up on the one person who was more immature than they were – they, at least, had both managed to avoid ending up incontinent on their respective Babe or Billionaire episodes; Freya wore pull-ups to deal with her weakened but not non-existent bladder control, and Tracy even wore grown-up panties (at least when she wasn’t running around bottomless, which was quite often), and both of them got to use the plastic potties that sat along the classroom wall. Isabelle had never imagined that a grown woman could manage to look superior and condescending while sitting on a training potty, but Freya and Tracy both managed it. They seemed to revel in the small maturities they had over her.
“How was your nappy change?” asked Freya, smirking.
“Go away, stupid-heads!” Isabelle whined, hating her stupid babyish vocabulary.
Tracy and Freya cackled with laughter. “Awww,” Tracy mocked, “did we upset little miss baby butt by talking about her nappies? Careful not to get too close, Freya. She might poop her pants.”
“Ew, gross!” said Freya.
Isabelle put on her angry face, but that just made the two girls laugh even more. She hated having to put up with this. The best part of every day was when she got picked up in the afternoons. Even though her sister was thrilled to bits by her new station in life, and keen to baby her as much as possible ("Pampers are much more fitting for you than skimpy swimsuits, big sis. I've always thought so!"), at least Isabelle got to be away from her bullying classmates when she was sitting in her playpen at home. Although she didn’t much enjoy being treated like a dress-up doll by her niece…
She got to her feet. “Shut up! You still go uh-ohs on dumb baby potties! You’re not big girls either!” She glared at Tracy. “You’re a silly nakie baby with big boobies!” she taunted, and despite the childish words, Tracy flushed with anger. “And you,” Isabelle turned to scowl at Freya, “still pee-pee in your pull-ups half the time!” Freya went bright red, and Isabelle could tell that a tantrum was brewing – as a result of one of her penalties, Freya was totally unable to stop herself throwing spectacular fits straight out of a toddler’s terrible twos whenever she got angry enough.
Tracy shoved her hard. “At least we don’t fill our pants!” she spat.
“Freya does!” Isabelle responded, staggering back, trying not to let her thick disposable diapers throw her off balance. “You make fun of me for being a big baby, but Freya made poo-poo in her pull-ups last week!”
“Shut your mouth!” Freya yelled, her face scarlet. She stomped her foot angrily, then she too gave Isabelle a hard push.
Isabelle staggered back again, and although she managed not to fall over, something even worse happened. She opened her mouth to give another retort, but instead she heard herself let out a loud, unladylike grunt. For a moment she stood there, her knees slightly bent, her mouth opened wide in an ‘o’ shape. Then she grunted again, and a huge mess filled the back of her nappy, dropping heavily into the seat and causing it to sag suddenly between her slender legs.
Tracy and Freya burst out into nasty laughter, and Isabelle willed herself not to cry, not to let them have the satisfaction of seeing her bawl like a baby. The warm load was horrible and stinky, and she could feel it squishing against her bottom. She looked up, her eyes full of tears, and toddled as fast as she could at the two other toddler-women, giving both of them hard shoves. How could she have ended up here? She’d been a model! She’d had wealth and respect and the ability to wrap any man around her finger with a single smouldering look, and one subtle shake of her chest. Now she was reduced to fighting her oversized kindergarten classmates in poopy Pampers!
Tracy pushed her back, and Freya let out a high-pitched scream and pulled her hair.
“That’s enough from all three of you!” Miss Olivia shouted, storming over to interrupt the fight. She looked very cross. “All of you are in big trouble! Tracy, I warned you what would happen if you acted up again. I hope you’re ready for the consequences!”
“No!” Tracy whimpered, suddenly looking horrified. “Please, Miss Olivia! Not that!”
“Yes that, young lady. All those pictures of you running round in the nude on are going straight onto the Adult Kindergarten web page!”
“Please!” Tracy begged, tears welling up in her eyes. “Anything but that! I don’t want everyone to see me like this!”
“That’s too bad, missy. Your little bum will be right on the homepage! And I’m going to make sure all those ex-boyfriends of yours know they’re free to pop in and visit any time!”
“Nooo!” Tracy sobbed.
“And you can stand in the corner for the rest of playtime, Freya!” Miss Olivia instructed, turning to face the tantrum-throwing twenty-something-year-old. “And when your Daddy comes to pick you up, I’ll tell him about your bad behaviour. He’s going to give you such a spanking!”
“NOOO!” Freya wailed, stomping her feet. “No! No! NO! I DON’T WANNA SPANKING! I DON’T WANT A RED BOTTOM! I WANNA BE A BIG GIRL AGAIN!”
“And you, Izzy,” Miss Olivia said, rounding on her as Miss Hazel dragged Freya away. She paused for a moment, and sniffed the air. Then she nodded with satisfaction. “You can stay in that stinky nappy until your Mummy comes to collect you!”
“It’s not fair!” Isabelle cried, and joined her classmates in their tears.
“Ready to watch your potty video, Kimmy?” Daddy asked, smirking. “Maybe you’ll even learn something from it, huh?”
“Yeth, Daddy,” Kimberly lisped, blushing furiously as she stared expectantly at the dark television screen in their living room. She knew the truth. She wouldn’t learn anything. Because of Jacob and the game master and that whole awful show, she was stuck in potty training permanently, frozen at the stage of a struggling toddler who couldn’t quite master using the bathroom like a big girl. Any attempts to improve were as doomed as her attempts at relearning to read. She glanced at the picture books scattered on the table by the sofa. Daddy liked to nestle her in the crook of his arm and read them to her. They were a big step down from the novels she’d once enjoyed, or even the legal documents she’d studied so hard. She’d bawled like a baby when she was made to drop out of university, but an overgrown toddler who couldn’t read or even make it to the toilet without her boyfriend’s help had no place at college, even if she had once been the top student in the class.
At least she got to stay with Paul at all hours of the day. That was a blessing considering her dependence on him. He’d had to drop her off with his parents once while he went away, and she’d spent the whole time sobbing and wailing for him to come back, and after that he’d resolved to make sure he was always around to take care of her. He worked from home, so she spent most of her time sitting at his feet, or if she’d been good, snuggled up in his lap. Sometimes, if she’d been on her very best behaviour, she could wiggle her bottom and feel him get hard beneath her. Then he might tug off her pull-ups and slip himself inside her, and until her nappy pants went back on, she could bounce up and down on his dick and pretend she’d never been on that stupid game show. But sex was almost always followed by a potty emergency that brought her rudely back to reality.
Kimberly turned her attention back to the screen as Daddy inserted the DVD, and a moment later the television came to life. A title appeared in bouncing pink letters. Learn To Go Potty With Big Kid Kimmy! Kimberly’s face went scarlet, and she nearly fainted when she saw herself appear on the screen, pouting and scowling, with a heavy, clearly-used nappy sagging between her legs. The only other thing she wore was a navy blue pinafore dress, the hem of which didn’t even come close to the bottom of her thoroughly soiled, sopping wet diaper.
“Oh God…” she whispered. Was that what she looked like?
“Nappieth are YUCK!” the Kimberly on the screen lisped emphatically, crossing her arms and stomping her foot in an exaggerated way. “They’re tho yucky and thmelly! There mutht be something better!”
“There is!” came a honeyed, female voice from nowhere. “You should try pull-ups, Kimmy! Pull-ups protect like nappies, but you can pull them up and down like grown-up underwear, and that means you can start potty training!”
“Potty training?” Kimberly asked, cocking her head in confusion. “What’th that?”
“Potty training is when you learn to go pee-pee and poo-poo in the potty instead of your pants, just like grown-ups do!”
“That thoundth really hard,” said Kimberly, putting on a face of apprehension.
The Kimberly in real life cringed with embarrassment. She’d endured a lot of spankings to get her to behave on set, but she’d still been determined to give a terrible performance, something impossible for them to make a program out of. But then Daddy had promised to make her wear nappies for a whole year unless she gave it her all, and she’d given in. Seeing the results now though, she almost regretted her decision. How could she have let herself be reduced to this?!
“Don’t worry, Kimmy! I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it!” said the female voice encouragingly. “Let’s give it a try!”
With a wave of sparkles, the scene changed, and now Kimberly was standing in a clean pair of pull-ups, the camera zoomed in on the flower designs on her padded crotch. The program had at least not shown the humiliating dirty diaper change she’d endured on set, surrounded by the cooing backstage staff.
“Wow!” said the Kimberly on screen, looking down at her undies. “I feel so grown-up!”
“Just remember, Kimmy, pull-ups won’t hold as much as your nappy did, so you’ve got to go to use the potty when you feel the urge!”
Kimberly nodded eagerly, then she gasped and clutched suddenly between her legs. This was no act, Kimberly knew, dizzy with shame as she watched the program. Daddy and the director had timed the moment so that she really did need to pee.
“Uh-oh!” cried her on-screen counterpart. “I’ve gotta go potty!”
Then the music started, and she felt Daddy’s hand on her bottom. “You sing along too, sweetheart,” Paul instructed. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Unless you want Daddy to get the nappies out…”
Kimberly felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she did as she was told. As the Kimberly on the program broke into song, she joined in. “When your kneeth bend in and you’re wiggling all about, don’t take a chanthe! It means you’re doing the potty danthe!”
With a smack on her behind from Daddy to encourage her, Kimberly started copying the dance moves too, which were really little more than the movements of a ridiculous, over-the-top potty dance. She pressed her hands between her legs and jumped ludicrously from foot to foot, shaking her bottom from side to side and singing all the while. She thought she might had died from the humiliation if she’d had to see Daddy watching her while she danced, but keeping her eyes fixed on the screen was hardly better.
At last the song was over. “When you’re bounthing on your toeth and you’re doing a little pranthe, that’th what we call the potty danthe!” But as the music died, things ended poorly for the Kimberly on screen. The camera did a close-up of her crotch just as her bladder gave in, and the dark patch spread up her pull-ups, making her flowers disappear.
“Oh dear!” said the woman’s voice. “Kimmy, where did your flowers go?”
“I h-had an a-a-acthident!” Kimberly blubbered, looking down at her sagging, discoloured pull-ups.
“Awww, that’s okay Kimmy! Accidents are normal for little girls! There’s always next time!”
“Uh-hu!” Kimberly sobbed.
There was another wave of sparkles, and the program cut to a new scene. Now Kimberly was dressed in a frilly pink frock, though it still failed to cover her training pants completely.
“Thith time I’m gonna make it to the potty,” she told the camera confidently. She was squirming a little on the spot, rubbing her bare thighs together. Her confident expression slipped. “But the potty ith a bit thcary,” she admitted, “and I can’t figure out how it workth… I think I’ll jutht pee my pull-upth.”
“Maybe you should ask your Mummy or Daddy for help, Kimmy!” said the female voice. “Things are a lot less scary when a grown-up is with you, and I’m sure they’ll be able to figure out that silly potty!”
“Yeah!” Kimberly said, sounding delighted by the idea. “Daddy can help me!” She turned to the side of the set and called, “DADDY! I NEED MY POTTY!”
Almost immediately, Paul appeared on screen, holding a pink plastic potty in his hands. “Here’s your potty, princess!” he said, walking over and placing it down on the floor at her feet.
Kimberly did a fake giggle. “I’m not a printheth, Daddy!”
“Sure you are!” said Paul. “You’re the potty princess!”
Kimberly giggled again. “Potty printheth!” she echoed.
“Would the potty princess like to use her throne?” asked Paul.
Kimberly nodded eagerly.
“Do you know how to use the potty all by yourself, Kimmy?” he asked.
Kimberly considered the potty for a moment, then she looked up and shook her head brightly, sending her pigtails flapping about her face. “Nope!” she chirped. “I’m too little for that!”
“Good girl!” said Paul. He looked into the camera. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you need your Mummy or Daddy. Even big girls like Kimmy still need help!” He slipped his fingers under the hem of his girlfriend’s ultra-short dress, hooked them into the waistband of her pull-ups, and tugged them down her legs. Then he grabbed Kimberly by her waist and lowered her bottom gently down onto her potty. “There you go, princess!”
The music started once more, though a different tune from last time, and this time Kimberly didn’t need to be prompted to sing along with her on-screen self. She didn’t want Daddy to get the diapers out of the cabinet… “I’m a big girl, look what I can do!” she sang, her face as red as a tomato. “I can wear grown-up panth too!”
She could sense Paul’s smirk, and practically feel his eyes on her pull-up clad derriere.
“Daddy, wow!” she sang, as the Kimberly on television hitched a big fake grin onto her face and pointed down at the training pants around her ankles. “I’m a big girl now!”
But as the Kimberly on screen successfully began to pee in the potty, the Kimberly in front of the television gasped and grabbed her crotch, the urgent need to pee arriving with no warning at all. She looked over her shoulder at once, her eyes wide and desperate. “Daddy!” she squealed, any dignity swept from her mind by the fear of pissing her pants. “I gotta go potty NOW!”
Paul grinned. “Okay, baby,” he cooed, “just wait right there and Daddy will get your potty!” He dashed out of the living room, leaving Kimberly to whine and wiggle and clutch between her legs, squirming and jumping from once foot to the other almost as absurdly as she’d done during her fake potty dance.
“Daddy, hurry!” she cried. A small squirt of pee dampened the front of her trainers, and one of her flowers started to fade. “Daddy, please!” Another trickle entered her pants. She clamped down on the flow, but a few more squirts broke past her feeble, toddler-like defences. More flowers began to disappear. “DADA!” she screeched. The trickle started again, and became a steady rush of hot wee-wee.
Paul came hurrying back into the living room, training potty in hand. He placed it at her feet and yanked her pull-ups down. Kimberly slammed her dainty backside onto the plastic seat at once, but it was too late. Barely a trickle of pee-pee made it into the potty. The rest had already soaked her pull-ups. They were pooled around her ankles, sopping wet and smelling strongly of pee. Kimberly burst into tears.
“It’s okay, baby,” Daddy cooed, getting to his knees and cuddling his girlfriend on the potty. “It’s alright.”
“No, it’s not!” Kimberly wailed, tears pouring down her face. “I wanna… be… potty trained!” she gasped through her sobs.
“I know, baby,” Paul crooned, rubbing her back. “I know you wanted to be a big, smart lawyer too, but you’ll have to make do with being a silly toddler, okay?”
“No-oooooo…” Kimberly hiccupped.
“A silly, adult-sized toddler who needs her Daddy,” said Paul gently, planting a kiss on Kimberly’s cheek. He helped her to her feet, and reached down for her training pants. He slid them back up and over her bottom with a squish, then scooped her up, one hand resting beneath her soggy tush. “Come with Daddy, baby,” he said softly, kissing one of her tears away and bouncing her lightly in his arms. She nuzzled her face into his neck, her sobbing dying down. “Let’s have a nice cuddle, okay? And if you’re good, maybe even a bit of naughty big girl time with Daddy…”
Eily tottered through the office in her high-heels, the thick diaper between her legs turning what would have been a sexy strut into something laughable. She wore one of her many skimpy schoolgirl uniforms, the only clothes she was able to wear, but her bulky nappy was barely concealed at all by the flimsy miniskirt. They had no designs or wetness indicators on them – they were pure white, and puffy, and somehow that made them seem all the more infantile to the former businesswoman. They were huge too, but Eily’s recently augmented bubble butt was so large that a good amount of bare bum-cheek was still visible either side of the white padding, also totally uncovered by her plaid skirt. To infantilize her further, a bright pink pacifier bobbed between her lips; it satisfied her stupid oral fixation, and kept her thumbs free to do all the tedious paperwork her ex-husband assigned to her every day.
Her former employees smirked at her as she passed, and Eily could feel her cheeks burning. Even after weeks of this, the embarrassment of what she’d been reduced to never seemed to let up. Glaring ahead of her, not making eye contact with anybody, she toddled over to the photocopier. As she copied some documents, her knees started to bend inwards a little, and she had to fight to stop herself from squirming on the spot. She had to pee. Badly. She finished with the documents and hurried out of the office space, into the mercifully empty corridor beyond.
Looking around to make absolutely sure nobody was watching her, Eily gritted her teeth and began to pee, cursing that evil game show for doing this to her, for taking her, a professional, well-respected, even feared businesswoman and turning her into this, a fetish-fantasy who couldn’t go to the bathroom anywhere except in her own stupid, padded pants. Warm wee-wee flooded her nappy, soaking into the bulkiness beneath her pussy. It was just one more humiliating feature of her new life, like the stupid little tricycle she had to ride to work, or the strict nanny her ex-husband hired to watch her when he was busy, but just like those, Eily knew the sensation, the shame of pissing herself like a baby, was something she would never get used to.
The stream in her pants slowed to a trickle, and Eily probed the front of her diaper. It was soaked with tinkle. With her nappy on full display, the discoloured padding would be immediately obvious to everyone, but there was no point in putting herself through the discomfort of trying to hold it in all day. She’d tried to do that at first, but it was impossible. She was going to end up going potty in her diaper anyway, so she might as well save herself the unnecessary pain, she told herself. But she had to be careful not to get too used to going in her underwear, or she might one day find that she’d lost the ability to hold it at all. She cringed at the thought. If that happened, she’d lose even the small dignity of being able to find a quiet place to wet or mess herself in; even if hurrying off to pee or poop her pants in private made her feel like a naughty toddler, it would be better than doing it with no warning, in front of anyone who might happen to be around when her bladder or bowels decided to give in.
“Eily!” her ex-husband’s voice called suddenly, coming through the speakers, no doubt sounding all around the building. “Come to Daddy, sweetie!”
Eily could hear chuckles coming from the room she’d just left, and she blushed furiously. But she knew better than to disobey ‘Daddy’. She hurried down the corridor, her wet nappy sagging a little between her legs and widening her gait even more, heading over to her ex-husband’s office. It had been hers once, after she’d taken it from him in the takeover, but since her ‘demotion’, as he liked to refer to it, he’d been offered the position of CEO once again.
“There’s my cute little intern!” he cooed, as she entered the room.
Eily scowled at him, but mumbled, in a breathy, high-pitched voice behind her soother, “Hewwo, Daddy!”
He chuckled and beckoned her over with a finger. She obeyed, knowing that refusal would just mean a painful spanking over his lap. She hated when he called her in here. She almost wished he’d totally redecorated the room and removed all signs that she’d ever been there. Instead, he’d kept many of her things. Her finance degree was framed and on the wall, from a prestigious university she no longer had any recollection of having attended, her memories supplanted instead by years spent learning to suck and fuck at Babygirl Academy of Bitches. A large photograph of her standing imperiously in front of her desk, the same desk her ex-husband now sat at, was still up on the wall as well, but now it was next to another picture. Eily felt dizzy with shame at the sight of it. It was also a picture of her, but in this she was lying on her back on the desk, with her legs kicking in the air and her bare pussy on display, throwing a tantrum in the middle of a diaper change. That had been taken a few weeks ago, on her first day back at the office.
She tore her eyes away from the picture, trying not to think about how many people must have seen it, and stood in front of her ex-husband, glaring at him and trying to look as threatening as she could while sucking on a dummy. Even if it was the only small rebellion she had left, she wanted him to know how much she hated her. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to care.
“What a grumpy girl!” he said happily, his eyes twinkling. “But I bet someone’s just fussy because her diaper’s all pissy, isn’t that right?” He reached out and cupped the front of her sodden nappy. “Looks like my big baby’s ready for a change! But you know what you have to do to earn one of those, don’t you, Eily?” He pushed his chair back and unbuckled his belt. “Time to earn your pay, sweetie,” he smirked, fishing out his hardening cock.
“Yes, Daddy!” her ridiculous little-girly voice chirped, as she popped her paci out of her mouth. Glowering at her ex-husband, Eily got to her knees between his legs, her nappy squishing unpleasantly between her thighs, swept her hair out of the way, and, hating what she’d become almost as much as she hated him, and Jacob, and Isabelle and Kimberly and the whole game show that had got her into this situation, she slid her plump lips down over his cock. Instinct took over, and the former ruthless corporate mastermind started sucking his dick like a whore. Her mind had been stripped of all her knowledge of how to run a business, but it had been filled instead with the knowledge of how to clench her pussy or work her tongue in just the right way to get a man to spunk inside her. In fact, she remembered vividly being the best in her class at blowjobs. She recalled, even though she knew it was fake, declaring proudly that she was the best cocksucker in the country. She’d got into a catfight with Jasmine over that (was Jasmine even real?) and they’d both ended up getting spanked over their teacher’s knee. Her naughty bottom had been blazing for a whole week. But that hadn’t happened, she reminded herself angrily. It hadn’t!
Her head bobbed up and down on her ex-husband’s cock. She slurped and drooled messily, running her tongue along the underside of his shaft, pausing only to suck on his balls or take brief gasps of air. Her pussy was soaked, and she hated herself for it. Surely that was something the game show had done to her. There was no way she’d actually be getting aroused by this otherwise! But she couldn’t help herself humping her privates against her pee-soaked nappy as she sucked her ex-husband off.
She made eye contact with him, flashing him a look of loathing, but he only laughed at the sight of her glaring up at him with a mouth full of cock. As her lips pouted around his manhood, he grabbed her by the hair and forced her face down into his crotch, shoving his dick fully into her mouth. He groaned as he came inside her. Eily hated the taste of cum, but she had no choice but to swallow his load, or else choke. “I love what’s happened to you,” her ex-husband moaned, still cumming down her throat. “This is what you deserve. You’ll spend the rest of your days as my baby bitch!” He slumped in his seat, spent, and Eily pushed off his cock with a huge intake of breath. She fell back on the floor, wrinkled her nose in revulsion as he perky bottom sank into the wet padding of her diaper. Her pussy was aching, but she wasn’t about to degrade herself further, if such a thing were possible, by rubbing out an orgasm in front of him. Not after that.
“May I please have a diapie change now, Daddy?” she asked politely, wishing she could speak to him the way she wanted.
Her ex-husband considered her for a moment. He was still breathing heavily. “No,” he said, finally.
“But… but Daddy!” Eily whined. Inside her head, she was screaming at him in fury. “But you said!”
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t fancy dealing with your pissy pants right now, Eily. Go back to work. Your nappy will hold for a while longer.”
“Okay, Daddy,” Eily pouted, white hot with anger. She got up unsteadily and headed for the door.
“But before you go back,” her ex-husband said, stopping her. She turned around to see him grinning maliciously. “I want you to poop your pants.”
For a moment Eily just stared at him with her mouth open. Then her shock gave way to rage once again. But she knew there was nothing she could do about it. “Yes, Daddy!” she said, fantasizing about taking back her company and kicking him out onto the street. Clenching her fists, trembling with rage and humiliation, the ex-CEO got to work on her latest project – making a stinky in her diaper.
This caption is for a very shy diaper girl. She’s a widdle scared of the world knowing who she is. But I do!
“Oh my gosh, this is so cute! It looks just like a real nursery! She actually lives like this? Isn’t she older than me?”
You cower behind Daddy as the new woman Daddy brought home takes in your nursery. They discuss you and your diapers so casually, so matter-of-factly that you feel like the toddler she obviously thinks you are.
“Seriously, I can’t right now. I mean, look at all the colors, the decorations, the diaper supplies! Ugh, it’s adorable! I’d have no idea this was an adult’s room if it wasn’t for the massive crib, changing table, and stacks of oversized diapers!”
Daddy laughs. “Adult? Don’t get it confused, my little pamper packer here may be older than you, but she’s not an adult, are you, Princess?”
You feel your face burning as they both look at you expectantly. “N-nuh uh, Daddy, not adult,” you whisper, knowing not to disobey Daddy in front of company.
“Good girl,” Daddy coos, giving your diaper a playful slap.
“She’s adorable! So well behaved, too!” she says, her voice thick with derision.
“Thank you! She’s Daddy’s special girl!”
Her face suddenly lights up. “No way, is she actually peeing herself?!?” she screams excitedly.
Daddy looks over at you. You look back at them, confused. You’re not peeing, that much you know. You would know if you were.
“Oh my god, she is!” she screams, “look at her diaper! You can see her tinkles spreading! I can’t believe it!”
You grab your diaper, still positive she’s making it up. Until you feel your diaper. It’s warm. Your eyes are wide in terror.
Before you can do anything her hand is reaching down at your diaper, grabbing it as your pee continues to flow. “It’s so warm and thick! You’re actually peeing yourself in front of us like a baby!”
Daddy looks at you, his face both confused and excited. “Did you know you were peeing yourself, Princess?”
“I-I-I…,” your eyes fill with tears, “D-daddy!!!”
“Oh, come here, silly,” Daddy says, wrapping you in his arms, “looks like you’re finally unpotty trained! You should be excited!”
Becoming unpotty trained had been your goal when you started wearing diapers. But that was before you truly understood the reality of life as Daddy’s diaper girl.
All you wanted was to wear diapers. Maybe have Daddy tease you here and there for them. Just basic, casual fun.
Like all diaper girls, you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. It’s adorably naïve.
You actually believed you could wear diapers 24/7, having Daddy care for you, check and change your diapers and still be treated like an adult. It’s absurd.
If you wear diapers like a baby, squat down and fill your diapers with stinkies like a baby, and rely on your caregiver to change your diapers like a baby—surely you cannot expect to be treated anything but a baby.
“Wait!” she screams, “she’s unpotty trained?! Like she’s been wearing diapers so long she actually needs them? That’s so pathetic!”
It’s too much for you. You won’t let some girl younger than you tease you.
“I’m not a baby, you bitch!” you scream, stomping your feet.
You knew you were in trouble the moment you said it. Daddy looked at you as if you just slapped him. Thick, heavy silence hung in the room as they both stared at you.
“I-I-I d-didn’t m-mean it, D-daddy,” you sob.
More silence.
Daddy looks over at her. “I’m sorry, Claire. She knows better than to act like a little brat.”
“It’s okay, poor thing probably couldn’t help it!”
“It’s not okay, is it, kiddo?” Daddy asks you sternly.
“N-no D-daddy, I n-not allowed to u-use n-naughty words anymore…”
“That’s right! And what happens when you do?”
“I h-have to l-lay over y-your lap…”
“Good girl. Do you have anything to say to Claire first?”
You look over to Claire, forcing yourself to ignore the smirk on her face. “I-I’m s-sorry for calling you a naughty word, C-claire,” you say sheepishly.
“It’s okay, little one. I know you didn’t mean it!”
Daddy reaches out his hand for you. You reluctantly grab it and follow him to your crib. Daddy puts the bars down and sits on the edge. He looks at you expectantly.
You hesitate, not wanting Claire to watch Daddy spank you. You couldn’t bear the thought of her watching you get spanked like some naughty toddler.
“B-but…Daddy…,” you mutter, looking at Claire.
Daddy only smiles. “Claire stays, babygirl. If you didn’t want her to see you get punished, you shouldn’t have been naughty. Lay down. Now.”
As you move toward Daddy, he suddenly stands up. “Oh, I almost forgot! Now that you’re unpotty trained, I can’t risk you tinkling on me!”
Daddy heads to the closet, bringing a package of puppy pads out. He opens it, unfolding one and placing it on his lap.
Claire loses it, giggling uncontrollably. “A puppy pad?!? Stop, that’s so embarrassing, even for a diaper girl! But I guess it’s necessary if she can’t hold her tinkles!”
Red-faced, you stand in front of Daddy as he rips the tabs off your diaper. The cold air forces you to shiver as your diaper is removed. He balls it up and hands it to you to hold.
“On my lap, babygirl,” he says sternly.
You lay down on Daddy’s lap—and the puppy pad—more humiliated than you’ve ever been in your life. You hold on to the diaper in your hand, doing your best to cover it up.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Claire’s laughter fills the room as Daddy’s spanking pauses. Tears pour down your face as you realize how infantile and pathetic you must look to Claire.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
More laughing. You look around your nursery. The monument to your place in life. You see all the horrifically infantile designs, the pastel colors, the supplies to keep you pathetically pampered.
You take it in. Everything in the room made you so beautifully squirmy when they were added. It’s was all so hot. But as you look at it—through Claire’s eyes—you realize how far you’ve fallen.
She doesn’t see you as an adult. She sees you as a toddler. You’re not a threat to her. You’re a cute sideshow. She’s going to sleep with Daddy tonight, not you.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
All the cute baby-patterned diapers and accessories that you loved so much stare back at you, each with a life of its own. They mock you, gloating that they trapped you in their world.
They know what you are. A helpless, diaper-dependent baby. They know this isn’t an adults room—it’s yours.
The only sex that would ever happen in this room is between Daddy and any woman he brings in here. A woman getting off knowing what you are. Proving she’s better than you.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
By now your butt is on fire. Your whimpers fueling Claire’s laughter. She can’t get enough of this pathetic display.
Daddy’s hand strokes your hair before turning your face to look at him. You look at him through your tears.
“I-I ‘m sorry, Daddy!” you plead, “I w-won’t use naughty words again, I promise!”
“I know you won’t, babygirl. Let’s get you in another diaper.”
You timidly stand up, hiding from Claire’s smirking. You preemptively head for the changing table.
“HAHAHHA no way!” Claire goads, “did she really pee on the puppy pad?”
Horrified, you look back. Daddy holds up the pad clearly wet with pee. You cover your face, too ashamed to meet anyone’s gaze.
“Let’s get you in a new diaper before you leak all over the floor, Princess.”
You obediently lay on the changing table, still covering your face.
“Can she wear this diaper?” Claire says, holding up your thick night time diaper.
“That’s what I was going to put her in! Gotta get this lil stinker in her night time diaper before bed!”
Claire watches—on comments—on the entire diaper change. You whimper through the whole thing. Halfway through, Daddy gave you your paci, which you happily accepted.
Once your diaper was taped on, Daddy helped you off the table, leading you to your toddler chair and table.
He sits you down, bringing you paper and a box of crayons.
“I want you to write an apology letter to Claire while we go have some fun. And it better be good.”
“B-but,” you beg, “I need a pen!”
“A pen?” Daddy scoffs, “you have crayons here! Diaper girls don’t need pens! Diaper girls use crayons, silly!”
With that, they head out. Your stomach sinks watching Claire all over Daddy.
You get to work, writing your apology letter to the woman who took your man. As you write, you hear them in the next room over. You try to ignore the moaning as you write.
“Dear Claire, I’m sorry I used naughty words. Daddy said I should never use those words when addressing an adult like you…”
annaxmalina
2087
stormborns
tangentwithtanner
discoholicmusic
