Dolly

It was just a lock of hair. How could I have known what he was going to use it for? 

As far as I was aware, it was a good deal. The quiet guy who worked in the cubicle next to me wanted a few strands of hair, and he offered me fifty bucks for it. I knew he was into all that astrology stuff, I figured it was so he could determine my ‘wavelength’ or figure out if mercury was in gatorade or something. I didn’t know the stuff he did was real, and I figured fifty bucks was more compensation for having to deal with him being weirdly passive aggressive and annoying, than it was for the hair. 

When we both got called in to deal with a late-night emergency with an overseas client, I found out what he wanted it for. It was not worth the fifty bucks, let me tell you. 

We met at the door. He had a key, and I didn’t, even though we both had the same job. I wasn’t sure how he’d managed to cajole the boss into giving him one, but I guess that’s why he was on the late shift - nobody else could get in without coming late. 

I met him at the door. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at me as he unlocked the entrance. 

“Any idea why this couldn’t just wait until morning? It sounds like a typical paperwork problem. Friday night seems like a helluva time to get called in.” 

He shrugged, and I thought I caught his eyes roll, though I couldn’t be certain. 

Pushing open the door, we walked inside, finding our way to our respective cubicle desks. While my computer was booting up, I detoured to the break room to turn on the coffee machine and get myself some blessed caffeine, to help keep me powered on through the late night. 

When I got back, though, I hesitated. I’d walked past his cubicle entrance, and it didn’t look like he was working. In fact, he was… playing with a doll.

Blinking, I leaned back and glanced in, to ensure I hadn’t mistaken what I’d seen. And no, I hadn’t - he had a little doll about the size of a cabbage patch kid propped up on his desk. It looked handmade, with brown hair that frizzed at the back, green eyes… A tattoo on its arm of the kanji for ‘Hope’...

“Did you make a doll of me?” I asked, blinking and staring, realizing that it was my actual hair that he’d affixed to the doll’s head. “What the fuck?” 

He glanced up, nonplussed, his expression saying something to the effect of, ‘Well, duh, what does it look like?’ 

What was even weirder, though, was that the doll’s clothes somehow matched my own. To a T. The same polo, the same jeans, even the same shoes, which was particularly strange because I’d just bought this pair today. There was no way he could have known what I was going to wear, so unless he’d just pulled out a sewing machine and made the outfit in the five minutes while I made coffee, he had to have had a whole bunch of clothes on hand, and he just dressed the doll to match me. 

“Creep,” I said, grimacing, reaching for my phone to take a photo so I could send it to HR. “This is gross.” 

He just raised an eyebrow at me, picked up something small and pink off his desk, and slipped it onto the doll’s right hand.

I dropped my phone. 

Frowning, I bent to pick it up, but my fingers felt suddenly clumsy and numb, like I was trying to pick something up through several layers of taut cellophane. I tried with my other hand and managed to pick up my phone, holding it up for all of two seconds until he put another whatsit on the doll’s other hand. 

“-The hell?” I said, looking up. Looking closer, I could see that he’d put little, fingerless rubber mittens on the doll’s hands. 

I stared, and tried to reach for the doll to grab it from him. He gripped the doll tight and shook it vigorously, and-

“W-oah!” I yelped, feeling suddenly dizzy and disoriented. I fell back, landing in a sprawl, confused and at the mercy of my coworker. 

“Have you figured it out yet?” he asked me. 

I blinked. Clearly, I hadn’t. 

He raised the doll for demonstration purposes, flopping it over his hand so that its butt was raised in the air, and with his other hand he gave the doll’s fabric backside a little swat.

“Ow!” I yelped, as I felt the impact of the spank hit me suddenly. “What t- ho- What the how?” 

I was confused, okay? I’m not, like, a word forging person. 

Setting the doll down on his desk, he continued to smirk at me while taking a long strip of sticky tape and taping the doll down. At the same time, I felt sudden, invisible weight pushing my chest down, as though a giant…

Piece of sticky tape…

Was fastening me to the floor. 

“Let me go!” I demanded, but he moved the doll’s hand to its mouth, manipulating it a bit, and as he did I found myself suddenly suckling my thumb, my mouth too full to make any speaking sounds.

“Blessed silence,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to this, you know. Waiting for the stars to align just right for the curse to go into effect. Of course, you know - curses aren’t real. When you come into work on Monday, nobody will believe that any of this happened. And you know what that means?”

I shook my head, nervously. 

“It means I can do whatever I want,” he said. “And you can’t stop me.” 

Reaching for his desk, he picked up a pair of scissors. My eyes went wide in terror, thinking he was about to do something gruesome, but instead he just started snipping away at the doll’s clothing, cutting away the stitched fabric miniature of my outfit. 

On my body, my clothes seemed to just… break, coming apart at the seams and falling off my body in sheets. My pants, then my shirt, and then my underwear - my shoes stayed on until he just pulled the miniature footwear free of the doll, at which point the real ones just came unlaced and flopped to the ground. 

I still couldn’t get up, the sticky tape binding me down as effectively as steel chain and cuffs. I couldn’t speak, drooling over my thumb, and I couldn’t use my other hand, contained as it was by the rubber mitten. 

My coworker opened a small desk drawer by his keyboard, and a large filing cabinet drawer behind him, then said, “Now, if you’re a doll, and I’m playing with you… I think the natural choice is to play ‘dress-up’, don’t you think?” 

I started to shake my head, until he gripped the doll and made it nod in agreement. I nodded in agreement. 

“Good. And I think you’re going to be a baby dolly.” Reaching in the drawer, he pulled out a tiny, fluffy diaper. 

Despite all the magic on display, I was still shocked when, out of the filing cabinet, an identical diaper flew up into the air. As he spread the doll’s legs, my own legs spread in equal measure, and when he wrapped the diaper between the doll’s thighs and pulled it snug, taping it down, the full-size equivalent flew to match the motion. 

I hadn’t worn diapers since my long term memory developed. All I could do was squirm as the puffy, thick padding taped itself around me, and then came the dress.

Oh god, the dress. 

It was a bona-fide doll dress. Not something that a real life person would be caught dead in, except maybe for a little girl in a halloween costume. Too many frills to be real, and of course with a matching tiara, because why not? 

He undid the sticky tape, lifted the doll, and pulled the dress over its head. 

And, from the filing cabinet, I was suddenly assaulted with a tirade of lace and pink. 

It was like a scene out of a disney movie, I think. I couldn’t tell you which one, but I’m pretty sure that having a dress suddenly stitch itself into reality around your body was from one of those films. I squirmed and fought, but he was still holding up my doll, and it was as though I was stuck in place. 

At least, in order to dress me, he’d had to take my thumb out of my mouth. “W-why?” I asked. 

He looked at me, tilting his head. “Why not?” 

Then, taking the last article from his drawer, he stuck a bright pink plastic pacifier into the doll’s mouth, and a real one flew to match it.

Er… except that ‘pacifier’ was an understatement. The bulb was too big to be a real pacifier, even one scaled up for a person. It was more like a gag that just happened to be in a pacifier shape, holding my mouth open uncomfortably and allowing a trickle of drool to run down my chin behind the shield. 

He took two more pieces of sticky tape, stuck the doll’s feet to his desk, and then got up and walked away, leaving me helplessly in place. I could stand, or I could sit, but my feet were pinned down and I couldn’t reach the doll to try and remove the tape or free myself. 

Unable to turn my body all the way around, I could only listen to whatever he was doing in the break room. I heard the fridge door open, and the cabinet, and then the tap ran… 

I swallowed in fear. I didn’t like where this was going. 

He came back, holding a measuring pitcher that was full up with two cups of something. I sniffed, and based on the color and the smell, it was brownie batter. 

I frowned, puzzling over why he’d have brownie batter.

Unless…

I shook my head, vigorously. No. No no no no no-

“Oh, good, I was hoping you’d guess,” he said, grinning mischievously. “It makes the anticipation so much more fun. 

Flipping over the doll, he lifted up its many frilly petticoats, getting access to the back of the diaper and lifting the pitcher of brownie batter. Pulling back the waistband, then, he tipped the pitcher and began to pour.

My bowels suddenly grumbled, like I’d drank twenty pots of coffee instead of half a cup, and before I could so much as squeak in distress, my body worked to make the real me match the doll. Except… what I filled my diaper up with wasn’t brownie batter. 

I squirmed and grunted into my pacifier, completely unable to control my own bodily functions. It didn’t even seem physically possible that I could have needed to go this badly, though given everything else, it probably wasn’t. I just kept pushing, adding more weight to the seat of my diaper, feeling it grow heavier and heavier. 

He emptied the whole pitcher of batter down the doll’s dress-up diaper, and the fake padding must have had a lot of elastic in it, because it stretched to fill, sagging down so low that even the long, frilly dress wouldn’t hide its ‘accident’. 

My body, obligingly, did all the work it could to match this in real life. Magic, maybe, ensured that the diaper didn’t leak - it just swelled, packed up with an impossible amount of smelly, squelching muck that had long since filled every corner of my diaper. It was too heavy for me to even keep standing, and I fell back, my weight sinking into the diaper I couldn’t stop filling. 

I was so distracted by the mess I was making that I didn’t even notice when he pulled one last item from his drawer, but I did notice once he turned it on and I heard the buzzing. 

The magic wand had three settings, and he skipped the first two, turning it up all the way. Picking up the doll, he sat it on top of the buzzing head, pulled out a couple feet of sticky tape, and wrapped the doll down so tightly that it couldn’t possibly budge off the vibrator without serious intervention.

Bzzzzz-

I moaned into the gag as I finished filling up my diaper, the vibration conveyed into me more intensely than anything I’d felt in my life. It shouldn’t have felt this good. I told myself it was the magic, but…

Well. I told myself it was the magic, and I’m not going to say anything else on that subject. 

He just got to his feet, then, pinching his nose. “I didn’t think you’d stink this badly. I’m going to take a break, but I’ll be back in a while to let you up so you can walk home. Or… waddle home, I suppose. I promise I’ll change your diaper before work on Monday, though. Have a nice night, dolly.” 

Strolling away, he left me alone in the office, with nothing to do but moan. 

The Drone Legions
I'm starting by re-uploading all the content that had to be removed from Patreon. This was a Patreon-exclusive story.

“Tell me, doctor,” Madame Arianna said, standing on a balcony. Two thousand feet up, she could survey her whole factorium from her elevated perch. “How go the preparations?” 

Doctor Connors looked up from his clipboard. “The first round of assimilation has gone well. Our drones are ready to begin spreading out and claiming more candidates.” 

She tapped her sharp nails on the ledge, not looking back. Connors didn’t know if she could tell what he was thinking, the terror that always felt completely reasonable in her presence, but he kept it off his face. “Good, good. It is on schedule, then?”

“Eh… yes,” he said, wincing. “Mostly. There’s been a slight delay with the dropships. Setting them up to go to other Federation planets without clearance was a trick.” 

Madame Arianna whirled, fury in her expression. “What?” 

“We’re only behind by forty minutes!” Connors squeaked, holding up his clipboard defensively. “And our takeover of this sector won’t be delayed at all!” 

She glared, and he thought for a moment that Arianna might be contemplating killing him right then and there. She couldn’t, though. The assimilation factories were his design, from the ground up. Sure, the apprentice that Arianna has assigned to work with him could likely run the machines, but they were only an apprentice. They couldn’t have built them from the ground up. 

“Show me,” she said, lowly. 

“Ma’am?” 

“A tour,” she insisted. “I want to see the machines that will bring about my conquest.” 

“O-of course.” Bowing, he gestured towards the elevator. “Right this way, your supreme excellence.” 

There was no arguing with Madame Arianna. She ruled with an iron fist, and nobody who dared question her had ever gotten away with it unscathed. 

Leading her, they walked into the elevator, surveying their steel yards at work as they descended. 

Drop ships, the size of city blocks, were being welded together, each holding room for an attack team and an assimilation factory, each ready to be sent to another planet. 

The Federation hadn’t seen war in a hundred years. They were unprepared for ground forces, especially not ground forces that would self replicate. Once their assault began, Madame Arianna’s conquest would be swift and decisive. Those who knelt would be allowed to serve her. Those who fought, well… That’s what the factories were for. 

The elevator shuddered as it touched down on the factory floor, letting them out with a hiss of hydraulics. The factory floor was abuzz, drones forcing random civilians into the line. It didn’t matter who they were before, by the end they would be loyal soldiers for Arianna’s army. 

“It starts here,” he said, gesturing towards the civilians being shoved in. As soon as they stepped onto the belt, a needle jabbed in their neck, and the people dropped. “With a powerful, fast acting muscle relaxer. Once it’s been injected, their bodies become unresponsive for roughly an hour, ensuring that they can’t tamper with the rest of the process.” 

“But they’re fully aware?” Arianna asked. 

“Of course. As you requested, the whole process is as uncomfortable and humiliating for the drones as possible. Those who resist will be in a perpetual state of degradation once they’ve been conditioned,” Doctor Connors assured her. 

He walked along, pointing to the next stage. Large mechanical claws adjusted the victims, lining them up neatly, so that a laser could scan them and then begin systematically burning its way up their bodies, leaving clean, naked skin behind. 

“The laser renders them hairless and naked,” Connors explained, checking his clipboard and walking to the next step. 

As they moved through the factory floor, the drones all barely acknowledged them. They would respond to commands, but were otherwise incapable of independent actions. Discussion had been had about designing them to acknowledge Arianna and salute as she passed, but those ideas were discarded for fear of software issues in combat. Having the drones stop to salute in the middle of a battle would be potentially devastating, after all. 

While they walked, Arianna seemed to be inspecting Connors more than the machines, looking him up and down. “And these are calibrated to work with anyone, yes?” 

“The machine doesn’t care who’s put in, ma’am.” Doctor Connors confirmed. “Body type, sexual characteristics, it can work with any of them and create a loyal soldier drone. If we see here, now, we get the first stage of modifications…” 

He gestured at the belt, where groggy subjects were trying to escape, but barely even able to move their arms. As they tried, servos sat them upright, and metal bands were locked around each subject’s neck, wrists, and ankles. Once properly cuffed and collared, they were lifted up, and the first humiliation was put into place. 

For those with penises, tight metal cages were latched around them and welded shut. They were designed with stimulating toys that would constantly tease, but never give release. Subjects with vaginas were given a similar treatment, only with a self sterilizing implant that would tease and torture just as much without any sort of release. 

“All subjects are scanned, and have an appropriately torturous locking mechanism applied that fits them,” Doctor Connors added.

Following this came plugs, forced in with lube. Each was hollow, but had a wax seal to prevent any accidents on the line, and there was no flared base to prevent removal under any circumstances. Given a few minutes, the wax seal would melt, but by then the drone would be wrapped in a snug diaper. 

“To ensure they can’t control even their baser urges,” he added. 

“Of course.” They kept walking. 

One particular subject, a young man, was looking side to side and struggling mightily, but he was helpless under the control of the mechanical arms and the drugs. Doctor Connors watched as he was lifted up, given another scan, and then had his mouth pulled open so that a hollow gag could be inserted. 

I almost feel sorry for them, he thought, but it wasn’t like Connors had much of a choice. If he didn’t build these factories for Arianna, she would have done worse to him. 

As mechanical arms reached down to wrap the victims in thick, white diapers - designed to only need changing once every three days, to minimize downtime and increase humiliation - Arianna asked, “Tell me about the enhancements.” 

“Well, all of them will be encased in a latex-alloy bodysuit,” Connors explained. “It’s resistant to most firearms, cut proof, and shock proof. It’s also uncomfortably hot and sweaty, and it traps odors like nobody’s business. I tried wearing a glove made of the stuff and had to take it off in five minutes. An hour wearing the suit, with a full diaper and no chance at a shower, the odor’s going to be unbearable.” 

“But their mind won’t be intact,” Arianna pointed out. “Given that they’ll be under my control.” 

“Well, the part of their mind that controls their limbs will be under the commander’s control,” Connors hedged. “They’ll still be fully aware of their surroundings, and able to feel everything being done to them. It makes me shudder, a little.”

“Good,” the Madame declared. “Let that be a warning to my enemies, then.” 

Connors hesitated. Guilt twinged at his consciousness, wondering if he’d done the right thing, and he had to jog to catch up to Arianna as she walked alongside, inspecting the now-diapered subjects as heavy, elastic materials were pulled over their bodies, starting at the leg cuffs and snapping tight to each drone’s skin, covering their puffy diapers and creating a bulge.

The latex came up to their necks, stopping at the collars, so that everything except the drones’ hands, feet, and heads were covered. 

Next came… the helmets.

Connors had designed them, of course. They would display a disorienting pattern of feedback into the subjects vision and hearing, completely demolishing their ability to employ rational control over their body, and then begin the process of reprogramming them. The drones would be completely blind and deaf, their motions dictated not by their brains, but by computers embedded in the helmets. The only opening on the helmet was for the mouth, so that a feeding tube could be inserted to keep the drone hydrated and fed. 

Combat robots were more efficient in battle, but they couldn’t live off the land or be fed organic materials, and they weren’t half so terrifying. A robot trying to kill you was something to fight against. A drone trying to subsume your thoughts and encase you in a torture made of latex and diapers was something to surrender to. 

The gloves and boots were perfunctory, practical things. They got put on, and then the drones were all dumped into a pile where they would wait as their brains were reprogrammed and their diapers were filled for the first time. By the time the muscle relaxers wore off, there would be no chance of escape or recovery for anyone who’d gone through the belt. 

“It’s good,” Arianna declared. “I’m impressed.” 

“Thank you, your magnificence,” Doctor Connors said. 

“And it’s all your own design,” she added. “But… your apprentice knows how it all works, yes?” 

“Well, of course. I taught him so that he could lead the factories on another planet,” Doctor Connors frowned. “Why?” 

“I was only thinking…” Madame Arianna tapped her chin. “That you’ve seemed hesitant, these past weeks. Nervous.”

“I’m fully committed to the plan, ma’am. To the empire,” Connors said, taking a step back. 

“Not only that, though. These machines, they’re your inventions. Your glory, in a way. Not my own work.” She leveled her steely gaze on Connors. “I don’t like to share, Doctor.” 

He took another step away. “What… what are you saying?” 

“That you’re no use to me, not any longer.” Madame Arianna smirking. “Not as anything more than a pathetic, useless-”

“Take her now,” Connors snapped. 

She blinked. “Huh?” 

Three drones in the immediate vicinity jumped on Arianna, tackling her to the ground. A quadruple dose of the muscle relaxer got shot into her neck, rendering her body totally limp, totally helpless.

Connors squatted down, smirking. “You stupid little bitch, you thought I wouldn’t program them to follow me above you? I slipped it into the programming. You wanted them to follow you, or to follow their base programming if you got taken out, but I outsmarted you. Now you’re going to be a little, pants-shitting, helpless thing, and I’ll- Huh? Buh…”

He fell to the ground limply, as a needle pricked his neck. 

It didn’t make sense. One of the drones had incapacitated him, same as Arianna, but he hadn’t told her to. It had no instructions, except…

Except to follow it’s base programming, to find and assimilate drones.

Oh no. No, no, no, no-

The drones dragged him and Arianna towards the front of the assembly line, dumping them onto the belt with the other captives. Despite already being drugged, the servos hit them with another dose, and Connors felt his body go even more slack. 

No. There’s got to be a way out of this, he thought, as the belt carried him forward into the first scan. The laser started working its way up his body, removing layers of his clothing and rendering hair to ash. 

In the corner of his vision, he could see Madame Arianna behind him, glaring daggers his way, but she was as helpless, naked, and hairless as him. 

If they don’t have a leader, they won’t accept surrender, Connors realized. They’ll assimilate everyone. They can’t not. 

He’d made the perfect self replicating system, after all. Autonomous invasion forces that would conquer planets and send out more, larger, invasion forces. 

The collar, designed to choke just a little bit, latched tightly around his neck, and the chafing wrist and ankle cuffs were locked down. He could hear Arianna whimpering, terror setting into her for possibly the first time in her life, but he’d accepted his fate. There was nothing to do except try to deal with the discomfort. 

As he considered this, a steel cage was clamped tightly around him, squeezing his member and then immediately beginning to buzz, stroke, and tease. Despite his circumstances, his terror, he felt himself try to grow hard, strain painfully in the steel, fall limp, and then repeat the process. 

 Next, he was picked up by cold, steel hands. The plug was rested against his back door, pressure applied, and then he winced as it was shoved inside him. Why did I make it that large? Just to be painful? 

… Stupid question. 

The diaper came next, though he was already having trouble focusing on it, between painful attempts at an erection and the uncomfortable fullness in his bottom from a plug that would never be removed. Still, thick padding was folded between his thighs, taped down with industrial-grade adhesive, and he was dropped back in place. 

Being gagged wasn’t so bad. He didn’t fight as the arms opened his mouth and forced in the hollow feeding gag, letting it rest between his teeth, waiting for the next step. 

One thing he hadn’t considered as a designer was that the latex being pulled over his body would be coming straight out of a formation vat. It was hot to the touch, like it’d been laying out in the sun, making him sweat as soon as the tight material was snapped over his body. As a torture feature, he’d probably have left it in even if he’d known, but the surprise was the first thing that made him whimper. There wouldn’t be any cooling down or getting better, not when his body heat was radiating into the suit. 

Then, finally, came the helmet, and Connors said goodbye to being the renowned doctor and scientist he’d been up until that moment. 

He was just one of the legion of diaper drones.  

"Baby" Sitter - Part 2
I'm starting by re-uploading all the content that had to be removed from Patreon. This is part two of a two-part story playing with some classic AB/DL tropes.

Melissa moaned, back arching as she squirted into her squelching, smelly diaper for the dozenth time in an hour. 

She couldn’t stop. It felt so good, she wasn’t sure she’d want to stop even if Erica’s command wasn’t forcing her to continue. Even as her diaper had begun to leak from the constant, explosive orgasms flooding the crotch, she was only able to stop long enough to take a drink of water before slipping her hand beneath her padding again, pleasure and humiliation mingling as she touched herself in time out once again. 

Beneath the endless orgasmic haze, she was terrified. Erica was beyond powerful. She could do whatever she wanted, at least as far as Melissa could tell. If she didn’t play the perfect, obedient babysitter all weekend, there was no telling what Erica would do in retaliation. Even if Melissa was the perfect, obedient babysitter, Erica might still punish her out of pure malice. 

Downstairs, she could hear the girls giggling. Having a great party that Melissa would no doubt have to clean up after, whenever Erica let her out of time out. Laughing about the ways Melissa had humiliated herself in front of them. Listening to the baby monitor Erica had set in the guest bedroom, so they could hear every time Melissa gasped or moaned in pleasure. 

Then, there was the tweet. Melissa had posted an explicit picture of her full diaper for the whole world to see, and until she was out of time out and had her phone back, she couldn’t do a thing for damage control. She wanted desperately to delete the post, but a part of her suspected that even if she did, Erica would only make her post something even more humiliating. 

For now, though, there was nothing Melissa could do except to gasp as she explored herself, pleasure amplified by the stink and the squelch of her dribbling, lumpy, overused diaper. 

As she rode the wave of her fourteenth orgasm, she heard the door creak open behind her. 

What does Erica want now? 

Soft, almost inaudible footsteps padded up behind her, and Melissa felt the presence behind her, casting a shadow. Even then, she couldn’t stop masturbating through her diaper. 

The figure behind her squatted down, scooted to the side, and help up a phone screen with some text written on it, raised so that Melissa could see it, even with her nose planted firmly in the corner of the room.

‘Don’t make a sound. We can’t let Erica know I’m here.’

Melissa could barely process what that meant in time to catch herself before asking, ‘Huh?’. She covered by gasping instead, as her own fingers probed inside her. 

The phone pulled away, and there was a second of typing before the screen got raised again. ‘Erica’s a bitch. It’s time someone taught her a lesson, but I can’t do that on my own. I need your help.’ 

Melissa’s diaper squelched as she rocked back, feeling her mess squish against her skin. Oh god, I’m gonna-

Moaning, her eyes rolled back in her head as the message was replaced again. Downstairs, she heard a round of giggles as the party girls heard her cum again. 

As soon as she could, she focused on the next note. ‘I’ve got a plan. I’m going to give you a ring. You can only use it once, so you have to be very careful.’

Panting, Melissa nodded silently, taking a drink of water to prepare herself for the next round of pleasure. 

‘When Erica changes the world, it takes a few seconds to kick in. In those few seconds, if you concentrate on using the ring, her power will be distorted like feedback, and whatever Erica ordered will happen to her.’ 

Melissa swallowed, the water replacing the dribbling fluids that were making a puddle on the floor around her knees, staining her blue skirt dark. 

‘You’ll have to goad her into something powerful, and permanent. Something that will render her helpless. Try to go for something that will make her unable to say ‘I bet’ - if she can’t form those words exactly, she can’t use her power. Can you do that?’ 

Nodding, Melissa pressed her palms into the squelching front of her diaper. 

The figure behind her lowered their phone, reached out, and took one of Melissa’s hands, slipping a simple white band onto her ring finger. 

Whispering, so low that they almost couldn’t be heard, they said, “Good luck.” 

Melissa could only gasp in reply as she started working herself up towards another humiliating orgasm. 

…

Erica didn’t return for another forty five minutes, by which point Melissa had run out of water, and her diaper had nearly fallen apart from all the friction and use. 

“Hey there, baby,” she purred, flicking on the lights in the guest room. “We’ve all had a lot of fun listening to you show off how much you like your stinky diapers, but we’re out of snacks and someone needs to pay for the pizza when it gets here. I bet your time-out is over.” 

Melissa leaned back, hand pulling away from her diaper. She was exhausted. Even ignoring all the times she’d squirted into her diaper, she was soaked simply from sweat from the constant, unstoppable tide of pleasure. 

“Do you need a diaper change?” Erica asked, her tone snide and condescending. 

“Yes,” Melissa replied. Make her do something you can hit back with. “You… you jerk.” 

Rolling her eyes, Erica said, “I bet your diaper can hold up until after the pizza gets here.” 

Melissa turned pink, but it wasn’t like she could argue that. And, even if she used the ring, reflecting that command onto Melissa wasn’t going to do any good. 

Getting up, she said, “C-can I go get some water?” 

Erica rolled her eyes. “Sure, but then you’ll wait on the porch until the pizza guy gets here. No reason for you to stink up the living room.” 

Grateful, and then mad at herself for feeling grateful, Melissa bobbed her head and waddled towards the door. It was a miracle that her poor, abused diaper didn’t fall off her hips, but it managed to contain everything, even though it was swollen and heavy to the point where it sagged down almost to her knees. Her skirt, already insufficient at covering her diaper, was at this point barely covering the top set of sticky tapes. 

She tried to ignore the giggles as she waddled through the living room, got a cup of water from the sink, retrieved her purse, and finally stepped out onto the porch. 

Outside, there was nowhere to hide. The porch light was on, and there was no foliage, fencing, or furniture that would block line of sight from the street to where Melissa stood. She tried tugging her skirt down and her diaper up, but that didn’t accomplish anything except to remind her that hiding the state of her diaper was impossible. 

She tried pacing, but that just made her think about the way the weight hung around her hips and smooshed between her thighs, so she stopped that, watching and waiting for the pizza guy to show up. 

When he did, her heart sank. No, no, no no no-

Her old college flame walked up carrying an insulated bag, eyes wide and confused as he got close enough to look at Melissa’s face. “Um… You ordered a pi… Melissa?” 

“Brett…” Melissa mumbled, flushing bright red. “Um…” 

He stepped up on the porch, staring. “I… I’m sorry, are you-” Wrinkling his nose, he leaned back. “Ew, what the hell?” 

“Brett, I-” she started, but she had no idea what to say. It’s not like she could deny what she was wearing. “Um… how much is the pizza?” 

He stared at the bulging, sagging padding hanging between her thighs, almost missing the question. “Er… thirty bucks.” 

Burning with humiliation, she passed him two twenties from her purse, hands shaking. “I… just keep the, um…” 

“Gross,” he said, at a loss for what else he could add to the conversation. Pinching his nose, he slid the pizzas out of the bag, passed them over, and hurried away from the porch. 

Melissa watched him go, fighting back tears of embarrassment, then turned to waddle back inside with the pizza. 

It was only then that she noticed half the girls were watching the encounter from the front window. 

“Oh my god that was funny!” Erica snickered, as Melissa came back inside with the food. “You had no idea! And then when he smelled you!” 

“I…” Melissa wasn’t feeling like goading Erica at the moment, she just wanted out of her filthy diaper. “C-can I please have a change...” 

“What do you think, girls?” Erica asked. “Do you think the baby deserves a fresh diapy?” 

Scattered giggles, with whispers of, “I think she likes it too much!” and “Well I don’t want her smelling that bad around me!” 

Melissa just fumed, looking down at the floor. 

Finally, Erica said, “Well, I’m not touching that thing, and Melissa’s not a big enough girl to change her own stinky butt. I bet whoever secretly wants to change her raises their hand!” 

To Melissa’s surprise, one of the girls raised her hand, blushing pink as the other girls looked at her and broke out into laughter. 

“Nicki likes to change diapers!” one of the girls declared. 

Stepping forward, face pink, Nicki said, “Um… I guess I’ll do it.” 

Erica rolled her eyes, taking the pizzas from Melissa. “I bet changing supplies are in her diaper bag. We’re going to eat, have fun with the baby!” 

Searching in the bag, Nicki brought out a fresh diaper, wipes, and powder as the other girls left, whispering comments and shooting amused looks back at Melissa. 

“I guess lie down,” Nicki said. 

Melissa obeyed, pulling off her stained skirt. It wasn’t doing any good, anyways. 

Untaping the diaper, Nicki wrinkled her nose, recoiling at the contents, but she got to work with the wipes. 

Melissa covered her face with her hands, trying not to think about what was going on at the moment. She still had the ring, but it wasn’t like that was going to do any good if Erica kept the humiliating commands to a minimum. 

Half the container of wipes got used up before she was clean, and Nicki went overboard with the powder, dusting Melissa’s thighs until they were ghostly white. Before she taped up the diaper, though, she leaned in. “You’ve got to act tonight.”

“Wh-” Melissa started to speak. Before she could answer the question, Nicki shushed her. 

“Just trust me. Goad her into something big, as soon as we’re done here. It’s your best shot. If you make her feel like she needs to show off in front of her friends, she’ll do something big. Once we’re gone, she’ll just torture you in little ways.” She leaned up, folding the diaper into place, smiling like nothing was amiss. 

Melissa swallowed. She was going to have to do something big, and soon. 

As much as she hated to admit it, her clean diaper felt nice. She wasn’t even longing for panties anymore, just a diaper that wasn’t filthy and foul. Getting to her feet, she looked down at the skirt, frowned, and gave up on it. A shirt and a diaper would have to do, the skirt wasn’t helping anything. 

Sucking in a breath, she planned on what she had to do. 

Waddling into the kitchen, she stepped up to the pizza box, opened it, and took out a slice. 

“Hey,” Erica said, frowning. All eyes fell on her. “Did I say you could have some of the pizza?” 

“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” Melissa said. Mouthing off was terrifying, but she put on a brave face. “I’m allowed to eat, yeah?” 

It was a tiny, insignificant slight, but that was enough to make Erica mad. Erica wanted total control, and a mouthy babysitter wasn’t total control. “I bet the only thing you can eat is babyfood, smartass.” 

Melissa had the pizza halfway to her mouth, but she couldn’t bite down on it. The girls giggled. Crap. Setting it down, she said, “Oooh, real clever. Do you think it makes you special, pulling crap like that?” 

Everything fell silent, except for Erica. “What did you just say to me?” 

“I asked if it made you feel special, acting like a bitch,” Melissa replied. Oh god, oh fuck. Please let this work. I can’t-

Erica stepped up to Melissa, all eyes on her. “Okay, diaper butt. I’m going to give you one last chance to explain what the fuck you think you’re doing.” 

Melissa stared right back at her, keeping up her best poker face. “I think I’m not scared of you, bitch. I think you’re just a selfish, arrogant, smartass with a diaper fetish and a god complex who thinks she’s-” 

“I bet you shut your damned mouth,” Erica snapped. 

Though she obeyed, it wasn’t a permanent command, and Melissa opened it right away. “You complete dicktrap, you just-” 

“I BET,” Erica said, almost shouting. “That you’ll never be anything more than a thumb-sucking, diaper-filling, baby-babbling little slut who can’t help but moan in her poopy pampers, you stupid, arrogant, bitch.” 

There was never going to be another opportunity than that. Melissa focused on the ring, just like she’d been told. 

A second passed. 

Erica’s eyes went wide. She staggered back, fear entering her expression as she jammed her thumb into her mouth. “Wha… wha da’ heww?” 

Everyone in the room, except for Melissa, was staring at her as a bulge appeared below her jeans, a diaper suddenly poking out above the waist, and a foul smell began to fill the air. 

“I… I be’ dah I’m back to nowmaw!” Erica stammered over her thumb. Nothing happened. Without the hard t, it didn’t work. “I be’ I’m fi’e!” 

What everyone had failed to notice, staring at Erica as she helplessly began rubbing a hand to the outside of her jeans, was that Melissa was sucking her thumb too. 

Everyone except Nicki. 

Nicki faced Melissa, with a smirk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really make it clear. The ring was never going to protect you.” 

Melissa’s eyes bulged with shame and anger as she filled up her diapers, struggling and failing to remove her thumb from her mouth. “Hu’?” 

“I said it would make her command effect her,” Nicki explained, smirking. “I didn’t say it wouldn’t effect you, too. Sorry, but it was the only way to make the bitch get a taste of her own medicine.” 

The girls were giggling again, but this time they had two moaning, helpless babies to gawk at. 

Nicki smirked, bending to take the ring off Melissa’s finger. Slipping it onto her own, she straightened. “Alright, girls, I’ve got to head out. I bet you’ll make sure these two crinkly sluts are taken care of, right?” 

"Baby" Sitter
I'm starting by re-uploading all the content that had to be removed from Patreon. This is part one of a two-part story playing with some classic AB/DL tropes. 

Knock knock. 

Melissa waited at the door, already ready to have this weekend to be over with. She didn’t mind babysitting - and she certainly didn’t mind making twenty bucks an hour for a job that wasn’t hard at all - but losing her college weekends was still a bit frustrating. 

Lifting her phone, she took a selfie, posting it with, ‘Who’s gonna be babysitting all weekend? It’s me! Working with kids is the best!’ as the caption. Her outfit was picked out so that even the most conservative of parents couldn’t get mad at her for immodesty, but she’d still managed to put together a cute ensemble that was social media worthy, with rainbow-stripe leggings and a bright blue dress that came down to her knees. Kid friendly, but still expressive and fun. 

While the post loaded, someone answered the door. Melissa beamed. “Hey there! I’m-” 

“The babysitter?” the girl at the door asked, rolling his eyes. She was almost Melissa’s age, at that sort of transition period where she’d be out of highschool, but hadn’t yet started college or found a full time job. “Yeah, okay, I’ll text my parents and tell them you showed up.” 

Melissa hadn’t expected an older sister to be there. She wondered why she’d been hired to babysit if there was an adult daughter who could watch the kid, but then again, she didn’t know much about the job. “Okay, where’s… eh, I think it was, Erica? I’d like to meet him.” 

The girl chuckled without looking up from her phone. “I’m Erica.” 

“Huh? No, I mean… I’m supposed to be babysitting for-” 

“Yeah. That’s me.” Erica stepped back, so there was room for Melissa to get through the door. “My parents don’t trust me home alone. You’re really just here to make sure I don’t wreck the place with a party while they’re out of town.” 

“Oh.” Melissa stepped inside, setting down her purse and her ‘babysitter bag’, a bright pink diaper bag which she’d packed with supplies for any kid from six months to six years. She hadn’t planned on her charge being almost her age. “Uh… okay. Well, I’m Melissa, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” She still hadn’t looked up from his phone. 

Walking in, Melissa texted the number that had contacted her about this job, Erica’s mom. ‘Hey, I didn’t realize Erica would be so old. What do you need me to do?’ 

A few seconds passed before her phone chimed. ‘Just make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble, keep the place clean, make sure she doesn’t stay up all night and that she eats something healthy.’ 

Easy enough. “Well, I guess we’ll just be sharing the house for a couple days,” Melissa started. “I don’t see any reason for us to make any trouble for each other.” 

“Yeah, no… what’s with the bag?” Erica had looked up from her phone, finally, and was poking at the ‘babysitter bag’ with a foot. Snorting, she asked, “Do you need diapers or something? I bet you do!” 

Melissa rolled her eyes as Erica unzipped the bag, peeking inside. “I didn’t know you were going to be almost my age, it’s just for if I need to take care of kids.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Showing a huge smirk, Erica lifted a large, fluffy diaper from the bag, with butterfly decorations around the front. It was clearly too big for any child. “You sit for a lot of kids that are exactly your size?” 

“I-” Melissa stared at the diaper, alarmed. “I didn’t, um…” Did I buy that size by accident? “I’m not sure why that’s in there.” 

“Sure you aren’t,” Erica snickered. “Baby butt. I bet you’re wearing a diaper right now.” 

Melissa sighed. Okay, that’s why her parents don’t trust her. She’s a brat. “Erica, I don’t need diapers.”

Erica looked at her. “Oh, yeah? Show me!”

That was just ridiculous. Melissa wasn’t about to lift up her dress just to show Erica she was wearing panties. “Drop it, Erica. I’m not going to show you my underwear.” 

“I bet you will!” Erica declared, smirking. 

Okay, fine. Glaring, Melissa took the hem of her dress and pulled it up, at the same time tugging down her leggings to make sure it was totally visible. 

Erica was grinning like she’d just won a game at a carnival. “So that’s not a diaper?” 

Frowning, Melissa looked down. It was only then that she noticed the bulk between her thighs, the subtle rustle as she moved, the… 

The diaper. That she was wearing. 

“I didn’t put that on!” she yelped, in surprise. “I don’t know how that happened, but… erm… Here, I’m going to go change my clothes.” 

“I bet you won’t!” Erica said, snickering again. 

Melissa stopped, letting go over her dress. There was no hurry to get changed. “I’ll do that later, I guess.” 

She was confused as to what was going on. It had to be some kind of prank a friend pulled on her, but she had no idea how she’d forgotten about putting on a diaper. 

While she pondered that, Erica took out her phone. “I’m going to invite some friends over. I bet you won’t mind if, like, a dozen or so people come by to hang out, right?” 

“That’s fine,” Melissa agreed. Twelve people wasn’t really a ‘party’, so it was fine. 

“Cool. And you’ll make snacks and stuff for everyone, I’ll bet?” 

Nodding, Melissa waddled off to the kitchen to put together some party snacks for Erica’s friends. 

By the time people started showing up, she had out two bowls of chips, cups were set out for drinks, and pigs-in-a-blanket were cooking in the oven. While Erica let in guests, she got it all set up in the kitchen table. 

And, she had to pee. 

Going to the bathroom would require taking off her diaper, but taking off her diaper would mean changing her clothes, and she didn’t want to change her clothes. 

Standing there, Melissa tried to think how to solve the dilemma. Unfortunately, she didn’t see much of a choice. Sooner or later, she was going to have to use the diaper. Upon realizing this, she turned pink and looked around to ensure nobody else was in the room. Sure she had a little privacy, she closed her eyes and let go of her bladder, flooding the front of the diaper. 

It wasn’t difficult. With just a little effort, she released a stream of pee into the thirsty padding, feeling it swell with warmth as she soaked it. 

“... so I told her, you’re wearing that to Mike’s party? Do you think he’s blind?” 

A trio of Erica’s friends giggled as they followed her into the kitchen, congregating around the chip bowls. Erica, though, noticed the pink on Melissa’s cheeks and zeroed in on it like a bloodhound. 

“Melissa,” she said, loud and sharp enough to get her friend’s attention. “Did you just have an accident?” 

Blush deepening, Melissa shook her head. “N-no, I-” 

The gaggle of friends looked between her and Erica, smiles growing with amusement as they realized what was being said. 

“I knew you needed diapers!” Erica declared. “Hah!” 

Melissa shook her head obstinately. Erica’s friends were practically her age - in fact, Melissa recognized a couple of them from college. It wasn’t like being teased by one of the kids she babysat. “I do not!” 

“Oh, yeah? I bet you’ll show us, then.” 

If I show them, it’ll look like it’s dry and she’ll drop the subject. Glaring, Melissa hiked up her dress and pulled down her leggings, displaying her soggy padding. “See?” 

“Oh my gosh!” one of the friends exclaimed. 

“She did!” another piped in. 

They fell into fits of giggles, while Erica only smirked, staring right at Melissa. “I bet you don’t need to wear those leggings for the rest of the night.” 

She was right. Blushing profusely, Melissa let go of her dress and pulled off the leggings, folding them up. 

Leaning in, one of her friends whispered something in Erica’s ear, that made Erica laugh out loud. 

“What is it?” Melissa asked, disliking being left out of the joke. 

“She said, ‘I bet your dress is so short that it doesn’t cover up your diaper at all’!” Erica repeated. 

Dammit, she’s right. Why did I wear such a short dress? She tugged at the hem, trying to cover her soggy diaper, but it just wasn’t long enough. 

Whispering, loud enough that Melissa could hear, Erica added, “I bet she can’t even change her own diapers.” 

How did she know that? 

Turning even pinker, Melissa realized that she hadn’t planned for how she would change while she was babysitting. She’d need someone’s help, but asking Erica would just be too mortifying. 

The doorbell rang. “Melissa, I bet you’re going to answer that,” Erica chimed in. 

“Of course I am,” Melissa said, rolling her eyes as she squelched back to the living room, opening the door. 

A half dozen of Erica’s friends were standing there, and they burst out laughing upon seeing her. One of them said, “You must be the baby sitter!” 

Looking away, Melissa let them in, regretting this job already. “Erica’s in the kitchen, I-” she started to say, but Erica was walking back into the living room already, greeting her posse of friends. 

After a round of greetings, while Melissa stood awkwardly off to the side, Erica said, “I know you’ve all seen my baby sitter, Melissa. Isn’t she so cute?” 

More giggles. Melissa was done putting up with it. “I’m going upstairs.” 

“I bet you’re not going to leave this room,” Erica snapped. 

Right, I should stay behind so they don’t get up to any trouble. 

Continuing, Erica said, “She pretends she’s a grownup, but really she’s just a big diaper baby. I bet she’s about to poop her pants!” 

“Oh, gross,” one of the other girls said. 

“Right now? Come on, that’s going to stink so bad,” another chimed in. 

To Melissa’s horror, though, Erica was right. She had to go, badly, and there wasn’t an alternative. Squatting down, she puffed up her cheeks and started to push, right in front of the gaggle of giggling girls. 

Warm mush quickly ballooned into the seat of her diaper, making a visible bulge as Melissa grunted. It was humiliating to have the girls watch her do this, but Melissa didn’t know of anything else she could do. 

Finishing, she stood back up from her squatting position, keeping her legs spread so that the mess wouldn’t squelch around too much. Several of the girls were pinching their noses or waving hands in the air, and the rounds of giggles were impossible to ignore. 

Erica stepped forward, reaching down to squeeze the back of Melissa’s diaper like a patient nanny with an infant. “Yup! That’s one smelly baby diaper,” she declared. 

“Erica-” Melissa started. 

Erica looked her right in the eye. “I bet you know what’s going on now.” 

Melissa blinked. I bet… I bet. Oh, no, she- 

“I bet you’re going to sit down on your mushy diaper,” Erica said. 

Melissa sat, smushing her mess around inside her padding. She knew she was being controlled, now, but she was helpless to stop it. 

Crouching over her, Erica said, “I bet you’re going to rub the front of your diaper, and you’re going to love it.” 

Putting a hand to the sodden crotch of the diaper, Melissa started to rub, up and down, pressing the heavy, warm padding into herself. At the first contact, she moaned, pleasure overtaking her thoughts. 

She was acutely aware of the giggling girls that watched her, though, and after the initial pleasure she stopped. 

That wasn’t good enough for Erica. Forcing the matter, she said, “I bet you’re going to cum in front of us, in your smelly, squishy baby diapers!” 

At the command word, Melissa resumed rubbing, moaning, rocking her hips forward into the palm of her hand. It made the contents of her diaper smush everywhere, but she didn’t care, she couldn’t think of anything except the pleasure, of the ecstasy, of-

“Fffuck!” she cried out, squirting into her diaper as she did exactly what Erica had predicted. 

The laughter rang out in her ears, and she blushed more deeply, shame replacing the brief high of pleasure. 

“Good baby,” Erica said. “Now, here’s how this weekend is going to work. I don’t want to make you do stuff all weekend. It gets tiring, and it’s no fun, so I’ll make you a deal.” 

Face bright red, both from exertion and humiliation, Melissa nodded. 

“If you’re a model baby for me, and don’t break any rules, I’ll let you have your potty training and your other big-girl skills back on Monday. If you don’t, then I’d just have to make a bet that you’ll be making stinky, sticky diapers every day until you graduate. You don’t want that, do you?” 

Melissa shook her head, whimpering, “P-please, no…” 

“Good.” Standing, Erica pushed Melissa’s purse over to her. “I want you to post a selfie, with one of your cutesy self-aware captions on it.” 

“What?” Melissa said, her eyebrows raising. “But-”

“I bet you won’t be able to change yourself for a week,” Erica snapped. “That’s a warning, baby. No more ‘buts’.” 

In horror, Melissa reached for her purse, taking out her phone and raising it up. There was no angle that hid her diaper, and she suspected that if there was, Erica would punish her for hiding it. 

The picture she got had the sodden diaper on full display, brownish stains and bulges visible. Fingers shaking, she typed out, ‘Guess who needs a diaper change? It’s me!’

She posted it. 

Erica smiled, as half of her friend’s phones dinged. More giggles when they read her caption. 

“Now,” Erica said, “I bet you can stand up again. Go make sure the snacks are ready, then sit in time out in the guest room upstairs until I come and get you. They’re right, you stink, and I don’t want you ruining the fun for the rest of us.” 

Melissa nodded, getting to her feet. “I… okay.” 

“Hey, cheer up, baby,” Erica beamed. “I promise I’ll change you in the morning. And…” leaning in, she whispered, “I didn’t say you couldn’t touch yourself. I bet you’ll have a lot of fun in the corner.”