Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – A Brand New Day

“Because of your little bit of thievery yesterday, I’ve already had to pay for a separate room for you at the nursery for a week, so until that runs out, you’ll be on your own. Which is good, since that should be plenty of time to train a weak-willed, naughty brat like you to be a good little girl.  After that, you’ll be spending your time there with Clara. Anytime you notice her using her Pull-Up, you will do the same in your diaper. Anytime she looks like she might be about to have an accident, you will ask for the potty, then use your diaper. Anytime she tells you to use your diaper, if it’s to show you off to her little friends during playtime, or just for fun, you will use your diaper. Clara will be in full control over when, what, and how much you eat and when, or if, you get changed at the nursery. If you don’t obey her, or talk back, the nursery will punish you right away, and then tell me so I can punish you again at home. Do you understand?”

Alisa nodded frantically, the pacifier gag making it impossible for her to do much more as she cried and squirmed on the woman’s giant lap, as the hairbrush crashed down again and again on her vulnerable backside. Mommy had started with her upper thighs, extended the red glow to where anyone could easily see it peeking out beneath her diaper. It had hurt, of course, but she had found herself growing more turned on anyway, feeling the wetness in her diaper that had started with her interrupted masturbation session growing. And then Mommy had tugged the diaper down and started the spanking in earnest. The very first spank on her already-sore butt had been enough to remind Alisa that this was a punishment, shocking her out of her state of arousal, and they had only gotten worse from there.

She wasn’t sure if it was the humiliation of having spent part of the past day being treated like a toddler by this woman, or if it was the pain from her previous spankings, or if Mommy was just that rough, but she was sure this was the hardest, longest spanking she’d endured so far. What in the world had Emily said she’d done the night before to deserve this?!

Finally, it ended, and Mommy pushed her up off of her knee, pulling the sodden diaper back up over her thoroughly-spanked backside while the girl stood there, bawling. She reached behind her, trying to rub her bottom through the diaper, but Mommy grabbed her hand and forced it away. “You are not to touch your diaper in any way, Dolly,” Mommy told her sternly. Alisa quickly nodded her head, not wanting any hesitance to give the woman a chance to restart the spanking. Could that be it? Alisa wondered. Could Emily have somehow known about her little interrupted adventure the night before? Had Mommy somehow figured it out herself?

“You’re a good girl after your spankies, aren’t you?” Mommy smiled. “Maybe I should give you one every morning to make sure you stay in line. Is that what you need?” Alisa didn’t want to risk further punishment by saying no or refusing to answer, so, despite herself, she nodded again, sniffling softly. “I thought so. I think I’ll have you ask for it, too – and I’d better believe you really want it. Obviously, it’s too late for that now, but you can still thank me.” She reached behind Alisa’s head, unlocking the pacifier gag and pulling it out of the girl’s mouth.

“Th-Thank you for my sp-spanking, Mommy,” Alisa mumbled through her tears.

“You’re welcome, Dolly,” Mommy told her, taking her hand. “Now it’s time for breakfast, and I expect you to eat every bite.”

“Y-Yes, Mommy,” Alisa agreed meekly.

Mommy reached down, pressing her hand against the crotch of Alisa’s diaper, thinking for a moment. “I think that’s wet enough for now,” she decided, before starting to walk. Alisa toddled alongside the woman, diaper sagging wetly between her legs, to the kitchen, where Clara was waiting.

“Morning, Dolly,” Clara said, though she didn’t sound particularly happy.

“I told you it’s no big deal, sweetheart,” Mommy told Clara, letting go of Alisa to give her daughter a hug. “It was just a little accident! Look how much Dolly went overnight! She’s in a big nighttime diaper, and she’s almost leaking, and you just went a little in your Pull-Ups!”

Clara had no problem waking over and poking Alisa’s soaking diaper to see how wet it really was, which cheered her up. Alisa blushed, though she wasn’t sure if it was more from the fact that Mommy was telling the truth because she really had wet herself that much in her sleep, or because everyone seemed to be allowed to touch and prod her diaper all they wanted except for her.

Breakfast was, unsurprisingly, more oatmeal, although this time it was dotted with large chunks of what Alisa immediately knew had to be prunes. Her stomach was already starting to feel full, signalling the imminent arrival of yet another messy diaper, before she even started eating, but she’d already promised she’d eat it all, and she really didn’t want to find out what Mommy would do if she didn’t. She was just glad Mommy did the feeding herself, as she was much quicker about it. While she didn’t exactly love the feeling of eating a constant stream of the gooey gunk, it left much less time for her to lose control of her bowels in the chair like she had the night before.

After breakfast, with her tummy feeling quite bloated, all three of them went up to the nursery, where Mommy put her onto the changing table, instructing Clara to pick out an outfit while Mommy cleaned Alisa up. Alisa let out a little sigh of relief at that – it felt like ages since she’d been able to wear anything other than her diaper, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been forced to go on the ride to the nursery mostly nude, either. It didn’t take long for Clara to find something, and, in fact, she was back at her mother’s side in time to be lifted up to tape Alisa’s diaper securely in place as she was reminded, “Nice and tight, sweetie. Good girl! And, oh, what a pretty dress!”

Alisa was lifted down off the table and put into her new outfit – a pink sleeveless sailor dress, striped in white, with a big white bow on the front. Had she been in regular panties, the skirt would have been just barely long enough to cover them, but, of course, that ship had sailed, so her diaper was quite obvious. A small, silver pacifier was stitched on the collar, and there was a matching diaper cover on the hanger, with a pair of ruffles across the back, but they were a little loose.

“I know how to fix that!” Mommy declared, and before Alisa knew what was going on, she was back on the changing table, being strapped into a second diaper, which filled the panties out nicely. “She’ll probably need it anyway,” she confided in Clara. “She hasn’t made her morning poopies yet, and she had a big supper last night, but these should hold it all!”

With a pat on the backside, Alisa was put back on the floor, where she wobbled clumsily for a moment, not used to so much bulk between her thighs. Clara and Mommy began packing a diaper bag as she stood there, a little stunned at the sensation. She’d never even dreamed of wearing a diaper this thick! When she took a couple experimental steps, she didn’t even look like a toddler, she looked like a baby, still not used to walking at all. While Clara and Mommy were busy debating how many diapers and what toys to bring, she poked curiously at the massive diaper, and she couldn’t feel it at all.

She did feel the smack on the back of her thighs as Mommy saw her, however. “No, silly Dolly!” Alisa was afraid she was about to get another spanking already, but Mommy took it easy on her. “I know these aren’t your diapers,” she said, tugging at the diaper cover and letting it snap back into place, “but you aren’t allowed to touch it, either! I know you’re just a silly baby and this is all confusing for you, so I won’t punish you this time, but don’t do it again, okay?”

Alisa nodded, barely noticing her thumb sneaking its way up to her mouth as she stood there, getting berated and feeling rather silly. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t, Mommy!” Clara volunteered happily. “I’ll let you know if she touches her diaper!”

“Good girl!” Mommy praised her. “Now, let’s go get you ready!” The two of them, carrying the diaper bag, left the room, leaving Alisa to waddle along behind them. They didn’t seem concerned that she would try to escape, which, considering she could barely walk, made sense, Alisa supposed. She really didn’t think she’d be able to make it down the stairs, not unless she just slid down on her padded bum. By the time she followed their voices to Clara’s room, she found herself in the middle of a bit of an argument.

“I wanna wear my big girl panties!” Clara was pouting, stomping her foot. She was in a cute little yellow sundress, with its pacifier on one sleeve, and looking quite unhappy as her mother held out a pair of Pull-Ups. “I’m a big girl!”

“You are!” Mommy agreed patiently. “Especially compared to Dolly! But I just don’t think you’re ready for your big girl panties yet. Remember, you did have an accident yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but…” Clara conceded grumpily.

“I’ll tell you what,” Mommy said, setting down the Pull-Ups and walking over to Clara’s dresser, plucking out a pair of pink Dora the Explorer panties. Alisa was a little surprised to see them, as she thought perhaps all of this world’s children’s shows were different, like the one she’d seen at the nursery, but this Dora looked almost exactly like she remembered the one from her world. Maybe the show from the nursery was from home as well, and she just hadn’t encountered it before. “We’ll put these in the bag, and if, when I pick you up from daycare, I hear you haven’t had an accident all day, you can wear them while we go to the hairdresser.”

“All right,” Clara nodded, watching as her mother tucked the underwear away into the diaper bag, then reluctantly stepping into the training pants.

Despite herself, Alisa couldn’t help hoping that the girl would have an accident. Her situation was bad enough as it was, walking around thickly diapered, forced to wet or mess herself on demand, but to have some little toddler with her, in real panties, would only make her feel more helpless and infantile. Of course, since she was intended to help Clara potty train, the longer the girl spent in Pull-Ups, the longer she’d be in diapers, but she really doubted she was going to be let out of those, even once Clara had mastered the art of keeping her pants dry.

Mommy picked Alisa up, carrying her down to the car as Clara carried the diaper bag. There were now two car seats in the back of the car, and Alisa found herself being strapped into the smaller one. She wasn’t sure if the strap would fasten over her double diaper, but, sure enough, it did, pressing the layers of stiff padding up against her crotch. Just sitting there, it was just enough that she could feel the pressure, but as the journey began, and the car began going over speedbump after speedbump. She began unconsciously sucking harder on the thumb still stuck in her mouth, while she very consciously forced her other hand to stay away from her diaper, knowing that Clara was watching her like a hawk. Even if she hadn’t been, this was hardly the place for this, she knew, and she wasn’t sure if she would have tried to loosen the strap, or reach in beneath it and her double diaper if she had dared to let her hand wander that far. All of these interruptions to her little private playtime were really starting to get to her.

Partway through the ride, as they left the road their house was on for a less bumpy one, she felt a pressure on her bladder, and, instinctively, she started to reach for her diaper, trying to put a little more pressure on it to stop the oncoming storm. “Mommy!” Clara shrieked, making Alisa draw her hand back quickly, and earning her a smack on the leg as Mommy turned around to glare at her.

“No touching, Dolly!”

Alisa nodded miserably, trying instead to cross her legs, though that, of course, was impossible. She could barely even press her legs together. The tightness of the strap did help a bit, but even so, it wasn’t long before she had wet herself yet again. A minute later, they turned onto the nursery’s road, going almost immediately over another speedbump. She moaned into her thumb, squirming in her carseat, hardly able to believe this was happening to her here. Of course, before anything could actually happen, but only after a few more bumps, the car stopped, and her bliss was interrupted yet again as she was carried into the nursery, sucking her thumb and feeling quite frustrated.

At the entrance, Clara was whisked off to her room with a happy, “Whee!” while Mommy began giving the nursery a new set of instructions for Dolly’s care. Alisa sighed as she saw the hand coming for her, but, with Mommy right there, it seemed pointless to try to escape, so she let it wrap its fingers around her and pull her back through the building, to a nursery that might have been the same as she’d been in the day before, though she suspected they all looked mostly the same, at least for each age level. Though she was still feeling rather wet and antsy inside her diaper, she realized that this was another chance for her to get out of this world and back to her own.

She walked immediately to the part of the wall she remembered the screen flipping out of, knocking on it. “Dw. Bwemew, do you heaw me?” She furrowed her brow in confusion at her muffled speech, only then realizing with a blush that she was sucking her thumb. Her embarrassment only made her want to do it more, but she forced her hand out of her mouth anyway, and tried again. “Dr. Bremer, I really need to talk to you!” It was silly, probably, as she was pretty sure the cameras could see and hear her wherever she was in the room, but somehow going to the screen felt the most appropriate way to communicate to her.

Sure enough, after a moment, the screen slid into place. “Thank you! Now, listen, this might sound crazy, but…” she said quickly, wanting to tell the scientist as much as she could before the woman could decide she was just a child with an overactive imagination.

“Watch your show, dear,” the room’s mechanical voice told her, as the screen flickered to life with the same boring, insipid show as the day before. It could well have been the exact same episode, yet, somehow, Alisa found her eyes drawn to it, no matter how much she despised it.

After a few minutes, she remembered her mission, and tried to call out for the doctor again, only to be silenced with a pacifier gag. She stomped her foot, feeling angry at the futility of her plight, which was only making her feel more hot, though the moment she brushed a finger against the crotch of her diaper, a hand sprouted from the floor to slap it away. “Do not be naughty,” the voice reminded her. “Your mommy has approved several new forms of punishment, and you are already on strike two.”

She squirmed, most of her worried about what that meant, but part of her turned on further at how quickly and efficiently the place was, again, dominating her. She wasn’t sure if the moan into her pacifier triggered it, or if Mommy had scheduled it, but a moment later, the feeding hose fell down from the cieling. Knowing what it was this time, she tried to bat it away, but that was, of course, not a good idea. An array of hands sprang up from the floor, pulling her down onto her stomach, as a portion of the floor near her midsection grew, raising her diapered bottom into the air, while her hands and legs were held in place to avoid any resistance.

She couldn’t believe it – she’d barely gotten there, probably not even five minutes before, and already she’d earned a punishment. Her ass was still throbbing from Mommy’s spanking, and the thought of another so soon made her start to sniffle as the hose was attached to her pacifier and began pumping her stomach even fuller, though at least this time it went with baby food, at least to start. As she swallowed the mashed bananas, however, she whimpered at the feeling of her double diapers being pulled down, wriggling as much as she could to try to get away.

Her eyes opened wide as she felt something being pushed into her bottom. It reminded her of the thermometer the day before, only bigger. For a moment, she was confused as to what it could be… And then she felt the water beginning to flow into her from it. She was getting an enema.

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – The Education of Dolly Alisa

For the first time since locking herself in the bathroom at that store, what felt like a hundred years ago, Alisa was alone – really alone. Even before she’d seen Dr. Bremer over the viewscreen and realized she could be seen as well, she’d never really felt like she was alone in the nursery, not with the hands there to thwart her every move. She hadn’t felt alone earlier when she’d been left in the crib with her curlers, because she had no idea when Mommy would return. She didn’t know now, either, she supposed, but at the very least, Clara would have to eat first, and then be gotten ready for bed. Emily seemed to think it would be enough time for her to finish her homework, too.

So, at last, Alisa gave herself a minute to think. Things had certainly gone further than she would have liked – take, for example, her still-throbbing bottom, which would be receiving another punishment in the morning, and the large load of mush in the rear of her diaper, making her stand all the more bow-legged in her crib – and there was definitely some fear that she might not ever find her way home, but it was hard to deny that there was something naughtily fun about all this. She’d always seen those stories as absurd little fantasies, certainly nothing that could ever happen… But that was part of what made it so fun! And yet, here she was, right in the middle of one, or, rather, a whole host of them!

It was hard not to think of all the times she’d read them, squirming as she took in the delicious humiliation of it, feeling herself growing wet, reaching down, between her legs… She shivered at the memories, in a not entirely unpleasant way. She’d been too busy trying to get away to truly appreciate her situation before, but there was no getting away now, and there was nothing but time. She always tried to imagine she was the one in the stories; that was much easier this time. However, she did have to use her imagination to pretend she was back home reading about herself, and just having a very, very elaborate fantasy. Part of her felt guilty about what she was trying to do, but she told herself it was natural, that it would help calm herself down so she could come up with a way out. If anything, she thought she should be commended for waiting so long. After all, the main reason she read those stories was how hot she found the idea of them, and here she was, smack dab in the middle of it all. Sure, the reality of it was significantly less hot than the thought, but, while she was alone, she could let herself forget about most of the more negative parts.

She was being a bad girl, she told herself. If she got caught, she’d be in big – well, bigger – trouble. That thought only made it hotter, and she leaned against the bars of the crib, biting on the bulb of her pacifier, as she reached down between her legs, sliding her hand across her bulging Pamper, and began to rub. Nothing happened. She whimpered a little, trying to rub harder, but the padding of her diaper, along with the extra layer of filth inside, was just too thick, and she couldn’t feel anything. She pouted, starting to feel quite frustrated as she tried one more time, to no avail. There was no way she was going to reach inside there, if she even could considering how tight Mommy had made it, and taking it off would be just as messy, or more, and would probably earn her even more of a spanking. Whether she had meant to or not, Mommy had thwarted her yet again, and the thought of these diapers being used not only for their normal purpose, but also as a chastity device, only made her more horny.

She slid to the floor of the crib, pouting under her paci. Her bottom sinking into the pile of poo did kill the mood somewhat, but she was still annoyed enough to grab the nearest stuffed animal and try to throw it at the stupid changing table, full of plenty more diapers for her to wear. She didn’t even make it over the bars, which only angered her more. Slowly, reality began breaking through the haze she’d willingly fogged her mind with. This wasn’t some fun little fantasy – she was trapped here, in the nursery of someone who wanted her to be a baby so her toddler daughter would feel better about her own accidents, enrolled in a mechanical nursery that thought she was an infant, babysat by a sadistic teenager, on the run from a boarding school that thought she’d tried to have them shut down. She had been spanked twice, with another on its way, made to fill her pants twice, with God only knew how many more of those upcoming, force fed, made to wet herself on command, kept in Pampers. And, right now, she had more important things to worry about than her failed attempts to masturbate her worries away.

She had homework to do. It had been years since she’d had to do that, which, despite her efforts, was also kind of a hot thought. Not wanting to sit in her own mess the whole time, she laid down on her stomach, pulling the backpack toward her and pulling out the books inside. It was probably because she was smaller, but the books all looked much larger than any of the ones she had been forced to use when she was in school, and upon opening them up, they looked far more complex, too. She’d assumed that anything some fifteen year old had to do in school would be a piece of cake her for, but it was pretty clear now that she was in over her head.

With the pacifier in, she couldn’t call out to Emily to try to explain that – as if she’d want to admit that she couldn’t do work intended for someone a decade younger than her. She had no guarantee that Emily would take the gag out when she came to check on her, either. There was a good chance she’d come in, find Alisa hadn’t done any work, and get very mad, which was a state in which Alisa had no desire to see her. So she got to work, sweating out piles of homework that weren’t even hers, legs crossing and uncrossing above her as the questions got harder and easier.

A couple times, she felt the urge to pee; at first, she tried to hold it, only to remind herself how little point there was in that. It just distracted her, and even if she could get Emily’s attention, there was no way she’d let her use the bathroom. Then, she just gave in, finding it easier each time as yet another warm rush of liquid poured out into her diaper, making it just a little warmer, and expanding it just a tad each time as it absorbed the liquid. It wasn’t until she’d done that a couple times that she realized this was exactly what it was like for people in stories. They gave up because there was no hope of potty time, and as it got easier for them to use their diapers, they were weakening their bladder muscles more and more. In the real world, she doubted a time or two would make much difference, but here… She shivered at the thought, hoping she hadn’t already done too much permanent damage.

It didn’t help that their math was run on a base 60 system, rather than the base 10 she was used to. She seemed to remember reading once that Babylonians did the same thing – and it wasn’t too bad if she was doing something fairly simple – but that wasn’t much comfort when she was in the middle of a long problem. History, of course, was way different as well, seeing as there were basically three species of people to deal with. She couldn’t help but wonder if that had something to do with why the math was different as well. Either way, she had to do an awful lot of flipping through the textbook, trying to figure out who people were, considering she hadn’t heard most of the names on the worksheet before. Three different, but very similar, anatomies also made Biology quite a pain as well, especially as she had to look for the tiny ways, other than size, in which they were different.

Since she worked with words every day, she had been hoping for some English work, to make herself feel a little smarter, since that should have been a snap for her. Unfortunately, Emily seemed to have finished that herself, or had a merciful teacher in that subject when it came to assigning homework, so she didn’t even have that to reassure herself that she wasn’t a complete idiot, something she’d never felt more like that now, lying in a crib in a messy diaper, having worlds of trouble with basic high school subjects. At least, not until she felt another rumbling in her tummy. She had felt somewhat proud of herself for having deduced that her smaller body digested food more quickly before having read that in the Biology book, but that wasn’t much comfort now, nor was the fact that she didn’t know just how quickly, or how many times she could expect this to happen in a day. She could remember some particularly bad stories where it seemed to happen every twenty minutes or so, which she supposed she was lucky wasn’t happening here, but it was starting to feel not far off from that.

She held on as long as she could, but lying on her stomach made it much harder, and she was starting to worry about finishing up in time, so she didn’t dare waste time trying to find another position that would help that situation and let her work on the homework efficiently at the same time. Holding it in was so difficult that she had trouble concentrating anyway, however, and, to her disgust at herself, before long she was bearing down, grunting into her pacifier as she intentionally pooped her already messy diaper, feeling the fresh load inch its way out as she whimpered and pouted, lost in her own world. Unlike the last time, it came out quite slowly, as her diaper was already pretty full, which made it all the more maddening.

She didn’t even hear the door open, or notice the approaching figure, until she felt a hand pushing down on the backside of her diaper, pushing the ever increasing mess more tightly against her sore backside. “Oh, my,” Emily giggled, pushing down a little harder as Alisa squirmed below her, trying to no avail to stop herself, “are you going again? You are just pooping yourself silly tonight, aren’t you? It’s a good thing I waited to change you, huh? That would have been pointless!” Alisa would have liked to have disputed that, but, with the pacifier gag, all she could do was mumble incoherently.

Emily finally moved her hand, walking over to the closet and pulling out a large, pink rocking horse. Alisa whimpered at the sight, but Emily was having none of it. “You clearly aren’t done yet,” she pointed out. “I told you you were supposed to be done by the time I came back.” She reached down and plucked Alisa out of the crib, forcing her down onto the seat of the horse. Alisa whined as the mushy mass in her pants was again forcefully pressed against her skin, as she continued adding to it. “What are you waiting for? Rock,” Emily commanded, making Alisa press down harder on the seat to set the thing in motion while her babysitter gathered up the homework and began flipping through it.

Alisa watched anxiously as she sat there, rocking and pooping and unconsciously sucking her pacifier without even noticing, sure Emily would be mad at the job she had done, but luckily the girl just seemed to be looking through the pages to see how much she had done, rather than examining each answer closely. “Well, you didn’t do too badly, I guess,” she conceded finally, gathering her supplies up and pushing them back into her backpack. “Just most of one page to go, and I guess I can do that on the bus tomorrow. So, I suppose you only have to ride the horsie for most of an hour.”

Emily laughed at Alisa panicked expression and urgent groaning from behind her pacifier. “Oh, I’m kidding, you big baby. I think ten more minutes will do. But only if you do it right.” She walked over to the horse, putting her foot on the end of the rocker and pushing down on it hard, then letting go quickly, repeating it over and over, giving Alisa a much faster, harder ride than she had been expecting. Every now and then, Emily would say, “Now you try,” but she was never satisfied with Alisa’s efforts. “I told Mrs. Farber she should have gotten one of those mechanized horses,” Emily lamented. “Babies just can’t do it right themselves.”

Finally, the messing and the rocking stopped, leaving Alisa blushing and feeling thoroughly disgusting as she clumsily climbed off, diaper drooping quite dramatically beneath her, and, as she saw in the room’s mirror, bulging out quite a bit behind her as well in an almost unnatural way. “Yeah, look at what a mess you made,” Emily teased as she caught the girl staring in shock at her own image, one that seemed to show a toddler in a very full diaper, not a mature, worldly newswoman. “It’s a good thing Pampers are so nice and stretchy. They’ll hold even your biggest oopsie.”

That thought was not encouraging. How could any mess be bigger than this, she wondered. Then she thought of some diaper art she’d seen – what was it called, hyper messing? – and shivered. That couldn’t be real, even here, could it? Had she happened to be thinking of drawings, too, when she made this place? It seemed like so long ago, she had no idea, but it gave her something new to worry about as Emily changed her, putting her into a new Pamper at last, one that seemed a little thicker than usual. It must be an overnight one, she mused, glancing toward the nursery’s window to see that there was still sunlight leaking in around the edges of the curtain.

But, sure enough, she was put right back in her crib. “Night-night, Dolly!” Emily chanted, grabbing her backpack. “And you’d better be asleep when I come to check on you!”

After a few attempts at sneaking her hand into her diaper, which was just as tight as the last one, and even thicker, Alisa settled down, curling up in her crib. Even though she’d had a nap already that day, enough had happened that, despite the early hour, she had to admit that she was feeling pretty tired again already, and before long, she fell into a deep sleep. She expected to dream of her old life, or maybe more possibilities of what this new one could hold for her, but instead, her dreams consisted almost entirely of images from that show she’d been forced to watch at the mechanical nursery.

She awoke feeling groggy and wet, reaching down unhappily to feel the diaper between her legs, almost impressed at just how much she’d managed to wet it overnight. This body really was a bedwetter, there were no two ways about that. The wetting had softened the padding, and she found that, if she pressed hard enough, and just right, she could feel it. Feeling only slightly guilty about it – this time she didn’t have nearly as much bad to ignore, and waking up in a thick, wet diaper, which had been dry when she went to sleep, in a massive crib wasn’t bad as turn-ons went – she began to rub, moaning into her pacifier gag. After all, this was her fantasy, if a rather twisted, extreme version of it. She ought to get some enjoyment out of it.

But she should have known that it wouldn’t last, as she was interrupted before she could finish by the door swinging open. Automatically, if reluctantly, she moved her hand away, her whole body squirming, wanting her to go on just a little longer, turning to look at the door, where she saw Mommy standing, a large wooden hairbrush in her hands. At first, she thought the woman had somehow found out what she was doing, but then she remembered that she’d already had a spanking scheduled for the morning.

She closed her eyes, trying to lie still as the woman walked over to the crib, looming over her, but the woman still said, “Don’t bother pretending, Dolly. You know what time it is.” Almost right away, barely even thinking about it, Alisa opened her eyes again, staring up at the huge woman, feeling especially small. “Emily told me what a naughty girl you were last night, so I hope you don’t think I’ll be going easy on you.”

Best Summer Ever

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Adventures in Babysitting

“I’m not hungry,” Alisa groaned.

“That sounds dangerously close to a ‘no’, Dolly,” Mommy said threateningly. “Do what Clara says.”

Alisa sniffled as she looked over at the woman, and then back at the spoon, seemingly so far away now, before casting her eyes down onto her rumbling tummy. She just had to hop up, eat the food, then sit quickly. If she wasn’t slow about it, she was sure she could pull it off, at least one more time.

And then the doorbell rang. She jumped a little, which was all the more embarrassing because Clara seemed not to be bothered by it at all. Mommy left for a moment, returning with a teenaged girl, one who looked strangely familiar. She looked like a regular sized person – not huge, like Mommy and Clara, but still looking to be taller than Alisa, despite being at least a decade younger. Mommy stood beside her, whispering something in her ear while the girl stared at Alisa, looking increasingly interested. “No way!” the girl giggled, distracting even Clara for a moment.

“Emily!” Clara exclaimed, beaming, hopping down from the chair to go give the teenager a hug.

“Hi, sweetie,” Emily smiled. “It’s great to see you.”

“I’m feeding my Dolly!” Clara told the girl happily.

“So I see,” Emily nodded. “You’re doing a good job, too! Do you think you should go finish?” Clara and Emily returned to the chair, Emily helping the little girl get back into position before returning to Mommy, the two of them whispering to one another while Clara picked the spoon back up, dangling it still just a little too far away from Alisa.

Surely the embarrassment of gaining another audience member, one Alisa thought she knew though couldn’t quite place, to this humiliation would be enough, Alisa thought, to keep her from having an accident now. Feeling a bit more confident, she raised herself out of her seat, filled her mouth with the green mush… And let out a gasp as she felt the seat of her Pamper begin to fill with a different kind of mush, pushing its way out eagerly into the small space she’d allowed between the chair and her. She tried to sit back down, but her hands had clasped over the front of the tray as her body pushed, almost involuntarily, and as the rear of the diaper expanded, she felt herself pushing herself up a little more at a time.

All the while, Clara kept shoveling the baby food into her mouth, glad that, for once, she wasn’t having to wait for Dolly to get up from her seat to take it. Some of it dribbled down her chin, but Alisa could still feel a lot of it making its way down her throat, refilling her stomach while the other end of her emptied it. She heard a giggle from across the room, and, blushing ever deeper, looked up to see Emily and Mommy staring at her. Desperately, she forced herself to sit down in the sticky, squishy mess, but that didn’t stop it anymore, and she could feel it still oozing its way into her diaper even as she was sitting, and when she had to sit up for another bite, it flowed out all the faster.

Finally, as Clara scraped up the last of the mashed peas from the jar, Alisa could feel her body stop, and she let out an exhausted, embarrassed sigh of relief. This was twice now that day that she had filled her pants, and both times, it had been a very large mess – and she hadn’t even been in this world a whole day! Digestive systems must work differently here, she mused, obediently swallowing her last bite of food. And, in a way, it was her fault. She was the one who had read those stories, and been unable to stop thinking about them. Now, she was stuck here, in a dirty diaper – a dirty Pamper – while her stomach worked away, likely already preparing for her next one.

“Did you go poopy in your diapie?” Clara asked, setting the jar down and sniffing the air. “Dolly, I told you you just hadta wait until you were done eating!” Alisa’s face flushed, unable to believe she was being berated by a toddler while she sat there with full pants.

“She’s just a baby,” Mommy said, walking over to the high chair and starting to unfasten the tray. “She’s nowhere near ready to potty train, not like you, big girl.” Mommy lifted the tray, setting it aside, smirking at the sight of Alisa underneath it. “Look at what a mess you made of yourself, Dolly! And not just in your Pamper! Emily, dear, could you help me clean her up?”

“Sure!” Emily was all too happy to oblige, hurrying into the kitchen, grabbing the empty baby food jar and spoon on her way, while Mommy carefully carried Alisa, setting her down heavily on the kitchen counter, next to the sink. She untied the bib and dropped it into the sink, then took a washcloth and began wiping off Alisa’s face and chest.

“Now, Dolly knows she is supposed to behave,” Mommy began lecturing Emily as she worked, “but if she doesn’t, you have full permission to spank her little backside just as hard as you want. And then when I get home, tell me about it, and I’ll spank her again in the morning. She has to learn to be a good little baby.”

“Looks like she’s doing a pretty good job of that already,” Emily observed. “Smells like it, too.”

“Yes, on the outside,” Mommy nodded. “But she can hardly help that, can she? These little people are all like that, aren’t they? They always think they can be lawyers, or teachers, or whatever they want, but eventually, they always wind up back in diapers, don’t they? It’s so silly of them to even try. But, anyway, on the inside, she’s still trying to act like a big girl, so that’s what you need to watch out for. If she tells you ‘no’, then she needs to be punished. I doubt it will be a problem, but if she asks to use the potty, and then actually uses it, instead of her diaper, she needs to be punished, but not while Clara is around. If she so much as touches her own diaper, she needs to be punished. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Emily grinned. “I think I understand.”

“You can go ahead and take her gloves off,” Mommy said. “But I would keep them close if I were you. Now, I’m going to say goodbye to Clara. Dinner for you two is in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up when you’re ready.” Alisa’s brow furrowed – she’d assumed that Mommy and Clara had eaten before feeding her, but as she sat on the counter, she looked around and saw the clock on the stove, just barely turning 4:45 now.

“All right,” Emily chirped, but before Mommy could leave the room, she rushed up to her. “Hey, when is her bedtime?” she asked, jerking her head back toward Alisa.

“Whenever Clara gets tired of playing with her,” Mommy shrugged. “I expect it won’t be long. And don’t worry about changing her until you put her to bed. I’m sure her diaper could take a little more, and she should get used to the feeling.”

“No, please…” Alisa whined.

“Or you can just leave her in it overnight if you want,” Mommy amended, giving Alisa a sharp look. Only then did Alisa realize her mistake, clamping her gloved hands over her mouth. “And you can expect a spanking first thing in the morning, little girl. I might take it a little easy on you, unless I hear about you misbehaving for Ms. Emily here.”

With that, the woman turned and left, leaving Alisa alone with the teenager. It was then that Alisa finally remembered where she had seen her before. It was back in the real world, at her office. One of the local high schools had sent her over because she was interested in becoming a journalist, and she had hung around Alisa for what seemed like most of the day. She was obviously in awe of the woman and her job, wanting to grow up to be just like her… And now, here was the same face, smirking down at her, quite obviously unimpressed by everything about Alisa.

“Well, well, look at you, Dolly,” the girl said, walking back over to her and grabbing one of her hands. “Sitting there in your stinky diaper… Do you really expect me to change you?”

Alisa looked up at her, stammering. “Well, I… I mean, I could…”

“How old are you?” she asked. “I mean, to have just filled your Pamper like that, in your high chair… I can’t imagine you’re that much older than Clara.”

Alisa blushed. She didn’t want to admit to her real age, not while she was like this, but she didn’t want to say she was younger, either, because that was nearly as bad. Still, maybe the girl would take a little mercy on her if she did. “I’m, uh… Twelve,” she settled on finally, not liking that it was half her age, but sure that it was younger than Emily.

“Twelve months?” Emily teased, tugging the glove off of Alisa’s hand and starting on the other one while Alisa flexed her fingers, happy to have them back. “Because that’s what you look like. A stupid, helpless little twelve month old. But guess what, Dolly? I know you’re really twenty-five. A pathetic little twenty-five year old who runs around, pooping her diaper like a baby. And you are under my control. I’m your babysitter, and you’re going to do what I say, like it or not, or I’ll put you straight to bed and tell your Mommy you were a bad little girl. And you know what she’ll do about that, don’t you?” Emily laughed as Alisa meekly nodded her head. “That’s what I thought.” Emily lifted Alisa down to the floor – it was more of a struggle for her than for Mommy, but she could still do it – then stared at her, standing there in her droopy diaper, for a moment. “What are you doing? Get down on your hands and knees! You don’t get to walk anymore, you silly little baby! From now on, you crawl!”

To encourage her, Emily gave her a hard swat on the back of her lumpy diaper, and, with a sigh, Alisa got down on her hands and knees, crawling through the house, her well-used diaper bobbing along behind her. Clara was amused to see Dolly this way, giggling as she saw her enter the living room. “Do you want to color?” she asked from the floor, where she had been setting up a coloring book and crayons for just this occasion. “Babies hafta go to bed early, but you can color for a while!”

“Okay,” Alisa sighed. Even if saying no wasn’t treated like a crime in this place, the last time she hadn’t wanted to color, she’d wound up strapped into a bouncer, watching some mindless children’s show, so she made her way over to the art supplies and laid down on her stomach, starting to color in the picture of the bunny Clara had chosen for her. Clara watched happily for a few minutes, then got bored and started to watch TV herself, climbing up onto the couch. It was at least not the same show Alisa had watched at the nursery, but just from listening to it, she could tell it wasn’t much better, and it only made her feel more like a baby. Lying there, with a full tummy and full, thick diaper, her bottom still sore after her spankings of the day, legs idly kicking in the air behind her as she colored, the sound of kids’ shows above her, being watched over by a four year old and a teenager… It was almost impossible for her to wrap her head around the notion that she’d been a relatively successful newspaper reporter that morning, wearing diapers when she wanted to, and mostly wriggling back out of them to use the toilet when she had to. And if she wanted to get back to that life, she was going to have to go back to the nursery, which thought she really was a baby, and needed to be treated like one.

“I’m hungry,” Clara announced after a while. “Can we eat?”

“Sure!” Emily agreed. “Do you think you’re done playing with Dolly for tonight?”

“Umm… Yeah,” Clara said.

“Okay, I’ll go put her to bed,” Emily told her.

“Can I help change her?” Clara asked, excited. Alisa looked up, not quite sure where she fell on that issue. At least she’d be getting changed, but it had been humiliating enough being taped into the diaper by Clara… Having the girl change her poopy Pamper would be even more mortifying, though Emily doing it was hardly better, and being stuck in it wasn’t a pleasant prospect, either.

“You could,” Emily said, “but you’re so good at setting the table! Can you take care of that for me while I put her down?”

“Okay!” Clara chirped, bouncing off to take care of that.

“All right, little Dolly, up,” Emily commanded, grabbing her backpack from the floor, but when Alisa stood, she snapped, “No, babies crawl! Are you so stupid you can’t even remember that?”

Alisa blushed, but got back down on her hands and knees, letting herself be led to the stairs up to her nursery on the second floor. “Come on, Dolly, let’s go,” Emily encouraged her when she stopped, staring up at the imposing steps. “Move!” Emily told her, reaching down to swat the swollen seat of Alisa’s Pamper. Clumsily, Alisa began to crawl up, feeling very silly, and increasingly annoyed with Emily as each delay earned her another spank, smearing the mess further around Alisa’s tender bottom.

Finally, they made it to the top, and Alisa was glad to make it to the soft carpeting of the nursery, though not for long. Emily made her way over to the closet, going straight for the paddle hidden in there, pulling it out. “Did they tell you about Clara’s little cousin?” she asked, holding the large, wooden thing up and examining it. “I mean, this is her stuff you’re using, so I’m sure they at least mentioned her. She’s not quite as old as you… About nineteen now. Ms. Farber was always talking about how she thought it was ridiculous when her sister married one of your kind. She knew he would just pass his weakness off to any of their children, and, sure enough, Greta was just as little and pitiful as her father. Even more so. For a while, Ms. Farber’s sister tried to deny it, to treat Greta like she was normal, but she kept having accidents, and getting into trouble at school… Eventually, she wound up sending her to live here, knowing Mrs. Farber was much stricter than her, sure that if anyone could straighten Greta out, it was her. Mrs. Farber bought all kinds of fun things to try to teach that girl a lesson, but she just never learned.

“She was an awful lot of fun to babysit. It was so weird… She never made it to the potty when I was in charge of her. She always blamed me, but of course Ms. Farber believed me, because, even though I was younger, I was the one in charge. I was the more mature one. Eventually, she just gave up and kept her in diapers all the time. It was great! But, unfortunately, her sister wised up not that long after that. She put her useless husband in diapers, and took Greta back. I hear she’s in the middle of unlearning her alphabet now.

“I have to tell you, I was really disappointed to lose her. But now, I have you, and you’ll be even more fun, won’t you? They’re not even wasting time trying to potty train you. You’re already in diapers, right where you belong, and that’s where you’re going to stay.” Emily took a swing with the paddle, landing it right across Alisa’s squishy butt, making the girl – who had been so entranced in the horrible story of her predecessor – jump and squeal, wetting herself a little more. “Did you like that, silly Dolly?” Emily asked, hitting her with the paddle again.

Alisa started to say that no, of course she didn’t, but she remembered that word was forbidden. When she didn’t answer at all, she got another spank and an expectant, “Well?!”

“Yes!” Alisa squeaked, having no other option.

“Good,” Emily smiled. “Then I bet you’d like to meet the rocking horse in that closet, too. He’s nice, and hard, and wooden, just like Mr. Paddle here. Do you want to have a little ride?” Alisa whimpered, feeling trapped. She felt filthy enough already, and riding a rocking horse would only make that a hundred times worse – which was, of course, the point. “You sound excited,” Emily giggled. “But, I’ll tell you what…” She set down the paddle for a moment, leaning it against the crib as she lifted her backpack. “I have a whole bunch of homework in here that I don’t really want to do. I know you’re just a stupid baby, but you’re enough older than me that I’m sure my homework wouldn’t be that hard for you, right? So, why don’t you just finish it up for me? Then, once I put Clara to bed, maybe I’ll change you, and won’t make you ride the horsey? How does that sound?”

“Umm… Okay…” Doing homework was a little more mature than coloring, at least, and it was far too early for her to have any real hope of falling asleep.

“Good girl!” With a little effort, Emily lifted Alisa into the crib, then dropped her backpack in there with her. “Oh, and Dolly? If I get a bad grade, you will be sorry. I babysit for Clara all the time, which means I babysit you all the time now. And when I’m here, I’m in charge, so you don’t want to get on my bad side, do you?”

Alisa began to shake her head, then just stood there with a resigned shrug. Emily smiled, going to the dresser and pulling out a large, pink pacifier in the center of a soft, leather contraption, which she wasted no time on locking over Alisa’s head. “Good girl,” she said, patting Alisa’s head and walking out, leaving her alone in her nursery with her homework.

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – Sup-Sup-Suppertime

Alisa stared up at the bars of the crib, trying to figure out how babies managed to climb out of these things. The thing was much higher than the crib at the nursery had been, but it also, she assumed, didn’t have numerous, giant, disembodied hands guarding it to keep the occupant inside. Even so, it looked awfully tall and intimidating, and whenever she looked down from that, and saw the huge Pamper around her waist, it made her feel even smaller, no matter how many times she reminded herself this stuff was all meant for a giant baby, not a regular sized one. But she couldn’t stop herself from glancing up and down, feeling like she was shrinking more and more each time. Maybe if she did it long enough, she’d get small enough to squeeze through the bars and escape.

She was still in there, however, when Clara and her mommy returned. Clara walked over to the crib, giggling as she looked in at her little toy, who blushed in response. Meanwhile, Mommy rummaged through drawers for a minute or two before finding what she needed and bringing them over. “We don’t want her touching anything and accidently burning herself, do we?”

“Nope!” Clara agreed.

Alisa looked up in confusion, just in time to see Mommy reaching down, holding a large, stiff looking pink mitten. Her heart began beating faster, instantly recognizing it from the stories. “No…” she pouted, trying to scurry away, but there was only so many places she could go in the crib, and Mommy easily caught her, grabbing her squirming hand. Alisa tried to ball her hand up into a fist, hoping that would help, but Mommy easily pried her fingers apart, then shoved the glove on.

“It’s a good thing we still had these,” Mommy chatted as she turned to get the other one, putting it on Alisa’s free hand, rendering both hands useless as her fingers her splayed apart and held firmly in place. “Clara’s cousin had a bad habit of trying to take her diaper off for a while. I’m sure we don’t have to worry about that with you, though, since you clearly need them so badly, don’t you?” Before Alisa could give her meek, mumbled, “Yes, ma’am,” Mommy turned her attention to her daughter instead. “Doesn’t she?”

“Yeah!” Clara giggled. “I bet she’s going pee-pee right now!”

“I bet she is,” Mommy gave Alisa a significant look. The girl groaned – part of her wondered if she really had to, if they’d know the difference if they checked her, since she was already wet – but she did have to go again, and she told herself she just knew there wasn’t any point in waiting as she let go. As she felt herself making her diaper even wetter, feeling more of the padding soften and grow squishy around her, she did her very best to forget that she was doing this just because a four year old had suggested it to her, which was difficult when the girl’s mother was asking, “But you aren’t wet, are you? Dolly’s only been in her diaper a little longer than you’ve been in your Pull-Up, and you haven’t wet yourself at all, have you?”

“Nope!” Clara declared proudly. “Dolly’s just a little baby!”

“Yes, she is,” Mommy agreed, reaching down to pick the embarrassed, wet girl up. “Now, let’s get to work.” She carried Alisa back into the bathroom, which was about the last place Alisa had expected to go. “Do you see this?” Mommy asked, teasing as she held Alisa in front of the toilet. “This is a potty! Maybe one day you’ll be able to use one! I think it will be awhile, though… Do you want to practice sitting on it?”

Not needing, or waiting for, an answer, Mommy plopped Alisa down on her damp diaper on the closed toilet lid. Alisa was less than pleased to note how far off the floor that left her legs, making her feel even more tiny. It was quite frustrating to know that she was so close to a real toilet… And yet hers was even closer, taped tightly around her waist, and already used more than once. And, with these gloves, inescapable.

As Alisa sat there, Mommy got a blow dryer out from under the sink, plugging it in and using it on her, drying her hair off before brushing it out with a large, heavy looking wooden hairbrush, and then starting to mess with something else that Alisa hadn’t noticed sitting on the counter until then. Alisa looked over at it with a sigh. “No, please, I don’t want…” she started to say, only for Mommy to turn to the bathtub, retrieve the bar of soap from there, and pop it back into Alisa’s mouth.

“You need to learn, little Dolly, that ‘no’ is a naughty word, at least for you. Now, Clara wants to see you with curly hair, and that’s what she’s going to get.” Alisa nodded her understanding, hoping that would earn her the chance to have her mouth emptied of the sudsy intruder, but Mommy just went back to work with the hot rollers, winding bits of Alisa’s hair around them and pinning them in place, working quickly and efficiently. Alisa pouted and fidgeted, feeling the warmth next to her scalp as it spread, from near her neck on up until it felt like it was consuming her whole head, transforming her straight, sleek, brown hair into something very different.

Once she was completely cocooned, the soap was taken out and she was put back in her crib, left alone while Clara and Mommy went to get her “din-dins” ready for her. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing what that was, not at all. She pawed uselessly at her hair, telling herself that, if her hands were free, she’d take the curlers out, although she doubted she’d really have the courage for that, considering the possible consequences. And if she was going to take something off and risk a spanking, or whatever else Mommy had in mind, she’d start with the diaper, which would have been even harder to do.

She sighed, poking at the bulky padding of her diaper before wrapping her arms around her stomach as it gave an ominous rumble. There was no doubt what that meant now, and, looking from the gloves to the crib bars, very little question of what that meant. It wasn’t fair! She’d already messed her first Pull-Up that day, and now, before too long, she’d be pooping her Pamper as well. She’d been curious to try it, but now she was being forced to do it twice in one day. And this was probably only the beginning. Clara and her mommy seemed only too happy to keep her in diapers, day in and day out, and they weren’t shy about making her use them.

That thought made her blood run cold as she thought about it. So far, they’d only made her pee her pants, but there was nothing stopping them from ordering her to mess. Anywhere, anytime, she could be minding her own business, and then, on their whim, she could be forced to squirm, and bear down, and fill her diaper for their amusement. The thought made her feel incredibly helpless, even after she shook her head and reminded herself that she wouldn’t literally be forced to do it. She might be risking a spanking, but if it was somewhere she really didn’t want to humiliate herself, she could say no. Couldn’t she? The fact that it had taken her a moment or two to realize that was even an option was something else for her to worry about. People in these stories often seemed to give in almost scarily quick… But she wasn’t really from those stories. Her mind was still her own, so surely she could hold on for longer than that.

After half an hour or so, Mommy returned, taking her back to the bathroom and removing the curlers, smiling as she surveyed her work. “I think this will work very nicely,” she nodded. “To start, anyway. I have a few more ideas, too.” Mommy didn’t seem to think Alisa deserved to know what those ideas were, even if it was her hair they were talking about. It seemed like an afterthought when Mommy held her up to the mirror to see herself. “Aren’t you precious?” she asked. “You look like a little Shirley Temple. But younger. If only your hair was just a little shorter… But we can fix that easily enough, can’t we?”

Alisa pouted as she looked at her reflection. It seemed like, every time she did that, she looked more infantile in some way. Maybe she should stay away from reflective surfaces from then on. “Please,” she sniffled, though she wasn’t sure what she was asking for, exactly. To not make her change her hair to make her look younger? To let her out of this diaper? To let her go entirely? It wasn’t until she felt another cramp that she finished the thought. “Please, just let me use the toilet. It’s right there… Please, Clara isn’t here now. She’ll never know.”

Mommy didn’t even say no. She just laughed, setting Alisa down on the floor and taking her hand. “Oh, Dolly, you’re so silly!” she chuckled, leading Alisa on her toddling way down the steps and to the dining room, where she was hardly surprised to see a high chair waiting. Once Mommy had deposited her inside and locked the tray in place, Clara rushed in with a faded pink bib, which she happily handed off to her mother to tie around Alisa’s neck. “Can you go bring out her supper?” Mommy asked, and, of course, Clara was happy to oblige.

As soon as Alisa saw what Clara returned with, she immediately whined, “I’m not hungry.”

“Babies have to eat, so they’ll grow up big and strong,” Mommy overruled her without skipping a beat, taking the large bowl, heaped high with steaming, pasty oatmeal, and put it on the tray of the high chair.

“Please, I don’t like…” Alisa complained, a fatal mistake, as it gave Mommy the chance to scoop a healthy spoonful of the mush and shove it into the girl’s mouth. She swallowed a little before trying to spit it out, dribbling some out down her chin and onto her bib before Mommy began to catch some with her spoon, pushing it back in.

“It doesn’t matter if you like it,” Mommy said, “it’s good for you.”

Alisa was surprised Mommy didn’t forbid her from trying to defend herself from the relentless spoon and its bland contents – the only thing that gave it any taste was the soap residue still in her mouth, and that was hardly an improvement, and even that wore off soon enough – until she realized that by doing so, she was playing into this whole charade of her being a baby. Had she just been good and ate it, she would have been full, but clean, but by trying to fight back, she wound up with her face caked in the stuff, her bib filthy, and her tummy still feeling quite bloated. “I think you got more on you than in you,” Mommy teased, poking at the girl’s stomach. “I think you need seconds.”

“No…” Alisa sighed, before she could stop herself.

Mommy gave her a smug look. “Oh, Clara, do you want to look through your cousin’s baby food for something to give Dolly for her dessert?”

“Yeah!” Clara hopped up from her spot watching the show, scurrying into the kitchen with her mother. Mommy returned first with the bowl refilled, to Alisa’s chagrin.

Alisa wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than her feeding at the nursery. There, she’d had no choice but to swallow, no hope of keeping even a little of the stuff out of her. Here, though, she knew exactly how much there was waiting for her, and she had an audience. Not to mention an already full tummy that grew more uncomfortable with every spoonful, starting to cramp up in a way that was all too familiar. Despite how uncomfortable it was on her sore bottom, even through the thick padding of her diaper, she was glad for the hard wooden seat of the high chair, as it made it easier for her to keep herself from having an accident as she squirmed there, wearily forcing herself to keep eating and get this over with.

Mommy was just finishing up when Clara returned, clutching a jar full of something green. “I found some!” Clara announced, rushing up to her mother. “Look, pea! She’ll like this, won’t she?”

“Well? Won’t you?” Mommy asked. Alisa slumped down in the high chair, stomach roiling, and nodded in defeat. “Why don’t you feed her?” Mommy suggested. Clara was all too happy to do so, and Mommy got up from her seat, picking Clara up and placing her on her chair. “Just stand there, and take this spoon…” Mommy handed the spoon to Clara and took the jar, opening it. “Don’t get too much, because you saw, she likes to spit up. There you go! Scoop it up, then put it to her lips…” Clara pushed the spoon towards Alisa, but stopped short of her mouth. Instead of telling Clara to move it a little closer, Mommy shot a meaningful look between Alisa and the spoon.

“But I…” Alisa bit her bottom lip, not wanting to bend forward, not now. She’d have to lift her backside off the seat for that, just a little, but that might be enough.

“Eat your dessert, little Dolly,” Mommy ordered.

Alisa almost jumped up, stretching out to get a mouthful of the green mush, wrinkling her nose at the taste. She didn’t mind peas normally – they weren’t her favorite, though they were tolerable – but now they were disgusting. Whether that was from being so full already, or simply the fact that they were robbed of their shape and texture, mashed up beyond all recognition, she wasn’t sure, but she almost would have preferred the prune stuff from the nursery.

Clara pulled the spoon back, dipping out a little more of the baby food onto it. “Is this enough?” she asked her mommy nervously.

“It’s fine,” Mommy nodded. “Just give it to her.”

Alisa thought she must be going crazy. She was inches from having a major accident, and, inadvertently, this little girl was making it more and more likely that it would happen right here, especially as she held the spoon just a little further from Alisa’s mouth as she had last time. Each time, it seemed like there was a little less, meaning it would take longer to make it through the jar, and not as close, meaning her quivering bum was away from the protection of the seat a bit longer.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, planting her Pampered butt and whimpering, “Mommy, please, can I use the potty?”

Mommy hardly skipped a beat. “That’s up to Clara. You’re her Dolly. Ask her.”

Alisa groaned as another cramp hit her. She could feel the mass inside trying to escape, being thwarted, but just barely. “Clara, please, I hafta go potty!” she wailed.

Clara looked at her for a moment, considering. “You hafta finish your supper before you can get up,” she said, in a tone that sounded like it was something she’d heard many times before herself. Of course, that was probably when she was wanting to go play, or watch TV. Alisa very much doubted Mommy would make Clara wait if she needed to go to the bathroom. “Open up, Dolly!”

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – Spick and Span

“Good job, sweetie!” Clara’s mommy exclaimed as she bent down, testing the water in the bathtub while Alisa looked on, naked, her hand firmly in the woman’s grip. “Let’s just put in a little more cold, okay?”

She reached over, turning the faucet a touch, reaching down into the mass of bubbles and stirring up the water for a few moments before turning it off and picking Alisa up, plonking her down in the middle of the tub with no warning. Clara had clearly gone a little overboard with the bubbles, as they nearly came up to Alisa’s face, surrounding her with a vaguely bubble-gum scent. The rim of the tub was lined with all kinds of toys – boats, rubber duckies, crayons – that she could barely see through the wall of foam surrounding her, though even if she could, she wasn’t sure she could have reached them without moving.

She had to admit, however, that the water felt quite nice. It had been a long while since she’d taken the time to take a real bath, much less a bubble bath, and after the day she’d had, it was quite relaxing. At least, it was until Clara was handed a washcloth and told, “Why don’t you go ahead and clean her up? She’s your Dolly, after all.”

“I can…” Alisa started to say, only to earn a stern look from Mommy that shut her up.

Clara was all too happy to help, eagerly scrubbing Alisa. She seemed to be trying to make sure she did it right, as she began to wash Alisa quite enthusiastically, looking up at her mother every now and then for approval before going back to work, and scouring even harder. Alisa just sat there, feeling more than useless as this little kid did all the work, scrubbing her to a fresh, pink glow. Finally, her mother took over to do Alisa’s hair. “You’re doing a great job,” she said, “but we have to be really careful we don’t get any shampoo in her eyes, okay?”

Mommy was gentler than Clara’s fumbling, if well-meaning, efforts, but the huge difference in their sizes made Alisa feel especially childish as the woman worked the shampoo through her hair. “Do you like Dolly’s hair?” she asked as she worked. “Maybe it would be better a different color. Or we could try curling it! I bet she would look cute with curly hair, don’t you think? If we really like it, we can go get her a perm. You’ve been wanting a trim anyway… We could take her to the hairdresser with us!”

“Yeah!” Clara agreed enthusiastically.

Alisa, of course, had her own opinions, considering it was her hair and all, but she barely got a word into voicing them before she was lifted up onto her feet, her exposed bottom given a good swat before she felt the washcloth making its way over the few areas that, thankfully, Clara had missed, the parts she had just cleaned up on the changing table, though that didn’t stop her from devoting just as much attention to them again now. “Don’t be silly, Dolly. Clara can do whatever she wants with your hair. It’s hers now, really, after all, and she knows best, doesn’t she?”

“NO!” Alisa exploded, surprising even herself. “No, it isn’t okay! You can’t do this to me! I am not a stupid doll, I am an adult, and you can’t just do what you want with me or my damn hair! I…” She nearly gagged as Mommy shoved a bar of soap into her mouth, roughly moving it in and out, all around Alisa’s mouth, filling it with suds as she let out muffled cries of protest.

“What a naughty little Dolly you are! You should know not to say bad words like that! Naughty, naughty girl!” The last two ‘naughty’s were punctuated by hard swats against her naked bottom, followed by a third as Alisa reached for the soap to take it out of her mouth now that Mommy’s hands were busy elsewhere. “Don’t you touch that, little girl, or let it fall out, or I will really spank that little butt of yours!”

Alisa’s mouth clamped shut, her teeth digging into the bar of soap, even as she felt her tongue start to tingle slightly. It had, of course, been a stupid thing to do – standing naked in a bathtub was not the right place to reassert her independence – but it was all just too much, having to sit there, getting her independence and adulthood stripped away and having to listen to them talk about how else they would be doing that. It was immensely frustrating, though not as much as how quickly and efficiently her protest of it had been shut down, turning her back into a chastised little girl.

Confident that Alisa would be good for at least a little longer, Mommy went back to cleaning her lower regions, thoroughly but clinically washing them as the girl blushed and squirmed in front of her. “You would think with as red as your backside is, you’d have already learned to be a good girl. You must be a stubborn little thing. Well, don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll learn soon enough.” Alisa pouted – she didn’t want to learn to be a good girl, not if that meant being a baby – but she kept the soap in her mouth and stayed quiet while the woman finished cleaning her up.

It wasn’t until she felt something wet dripping onto her chest that she realized she was drooling, soapy slobber dripping from the corners of her full mouth as she fidgeted there, being washed up. Mommy was all too happy to clean that up, too, before setting Alisa back down on her bottom to rinse the shampoo out of her hair, and then, at last, pulling the plug.

“She didn’t get to play with any of her toys,” Clara pointed out disappointedly.

“She was being a naughty girl,” Mommy reminded her. “Besides, we can’t keep her out of a diaper for too long, or she’ll have an accident. Won’t you?”

The woman pulled the bar of soap out of Alisa’s mouth, leading to one last gush of drool to trail down her chin and onto her body, holding it threateningly in front of the girl’s face. Alisa could still feel the stuff behind and around her teeth, the residue still burning her tongue. There was no way she was going to risk having it put back in, so she obediently, and with a deep blush, said, “Yeah, I will.”

In fact, to her surprise, her stomach had started to rumble again as she’d been sitting in her bath. She told herself she was getting hungry again, somehow, that there was no way she’d have to go again so soon, after how much she’d filled her Pull-Ups, but that was definitely what it felt like. Had there been something more in that oatmeal after all? Or was this deeper than that? She could remember several diaper stories – not the best ones, generally – where the protagonist would use their diaper over and over again, far more than a normal person ever could, especially in one day. Had she been thinking of those, too, when she made this world, even just subconsciously? She couldn’t remember, but she had a very bad feeling about it.

Mommy got her back to her feet, then briefly turned the shower on her to rinse the bubbles and drool off her before wrapping her in a towel and drying her off. She pulled out a little step stool with Clara’s name painted on it and placed it in front of the sink to let Alisa rinse out her mouth, instructing Clara to watch her while she went to “get ready”. Alisa knew what that meant, knew what was coming next, and it was almost enough to make her burst into tears right there, as she swished water around her mouth, trying to rid herself of the worst of the soapy taste still lingering there.

“Okay, that’s good!” Clara announced after a minute.

“But I’m not done yet!” Alisa whined. She had seen Clara fidgeting behind her in the mirror, probably bored and wanting to move on to the next step.

“You’re my Dolly, and I said you are!” Clara said, grabbing her hand and pulling her down off the stool. Alisa had no choice but to let go of the cup she’d been using and step down, not unless she wanted to fall and hurt herself, and probably end up in the hospital, which was not something she wanted to do in this world. Alisa was led naked back through the house, and to the nursery, where she expected to be put back onto the changing table.

Instead, Mommy was kneeling next to a changing pad spread across the soft, pink carpet, a diaper open on top of it. “Good job, Clara!” she beamed. “Bring her right over here!” Alisa whimpered as she was brought closer and closer to the diaper, and all that meant for her. There were a few stories where people got out, she tried to comfort herself. It didn’t happen often, but maybe she’d be one of those lucky ones.

Once she was close enough, Mommy grabbed her, moving her over to the diaper and laying her down on top of it. The padding felt firm, yet soft, beneath her, and she could tell already it was quite thick. “Now, it’s very simple,” Mommy lectured Clara. “Of course, when she hasn’t just had her bath, you’d have to clean her up first, but then you just put some baby oil on her…” Alisa tried to sit up, but Mommy pinned her down by the chest with one hand, as the other squeezed a bottle of oil over her groin, then began to massage it into her skin. “And you have to make sure to use plenty of baby powder, too, because it helps keep her from getting a rash. And it makes her smell good, too, which is good, because she can be pretty stinky otherwise, huh?”

The other two giggled over that while Alisa whimpered, watching helplessly as the woman sprinkled a liberal amount of baby powder onto her. The smell was nice, she had to admit, but it didn’t stop her from pleading, “Please, no, I don’t need diapers! Just let me wear training pants! I’ll wear those!”

“Do you want to handle this, Clara?” Mommy asked, rubbing the powder into Alisa’s skin. “She’s your Dolly, so you can decide what she wears if you want…”

“You can’t wear Pull-Ups, they’re for big kids,” the girl declared, not even pausing to think about it. “You went poo-poo in them, and that means you aren’t a big girl yet, so you hafta wear diapers.”

“Good job, sweetie!” Mommy praised her, wiping off her hands. “Well, you heard her, Dolly. And that’s final, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Alisa sighed quietly. “I guess so.” It certainly felt that way, staring up from the floor at this woman and her daughter, lying on top of a diaper that was about to be fastened around her loins.

“Maybe you do have it in you to be a good girl,” Mommy nodded. “Now, Clara… This is the tricky part. You have to make sure you fasten the diaper up nice and tight, okay? You don’t want it to fall off, or it to leak, or anything, do you?”

“That would be bad,” Clara agreed, watching happily as her mother tugged the diaper up between Alisa’s legs, forcing her thighs apart. She tugged one side up, pulling it snugly around and taping it in place before doing the same with the other side.

She stopped short of actually taping it, however. “Here you go, Clara. Just pull the tape out like that, tug it tight, and then push it down there.” Clara was ecstatic, eagerly taking the diaper’s flap and pulling on it. She fumbled for a moment to get the tape undone, then stuck it in place, pushing down harder than she really needed. “Great job! You’ll be a wonderful mommy!”

As Mommy picked up Clara, giving her a big hug and a kiss, Alisa just laid there, stunned. She had just been diapered, not just by some giant, but also by a toddler – one who, she saw as she looked up from her position on the floor, was in a wet Pull-Up herself. It wasn’t just a diaper, either, it was a baby diaper, one that, given it was in this nursery meant for Clara’s cousin, was actually meant for a real baby, and yet fit her perfectly. She looked down at it, pawing at it with a sick feeling in her stomach. There was no doubt about it; from the simple, one tape on each side design, to the Sesame Street characters dancing across the front, it was a Pamper, just like the ones from the real world.

Except, of course, that these were much, much thicker. They were significantly bigger than the Pull-Ups, and even any single diaper she’d ever tried back home. They felt like a double diaper, at least, from one of the few times she’d tried doing that. And this was just a single diaper. She could only imagine what it would be like it they decided she needed doubles… Would she even be able to walk? She had no doubt that she would have a rather pronounced waddle with these. There was no hope of hiding them beneath her clothes, if those in charge of what she wore now even cared to try. There was no question of her forgetting that she was wearing them, or of anyone seeing her mistaking them for anything else.

“Oh, sweetie, did you have an accident?” Alisa looked up to see Mommy still holding Clara, her hand under her skirt now, checking the girl’s Pull-Up.

Clara blushed, looked uncomfortable and unhappy and having her little secret found out. “I’m sorry, Mommy…” she sniffed.

“Aww, it’s okay,” Mommy smiled at her. “It was just a little accident. And in all this excitement, I didn’t even ask if you had to go when we got home, did I? It’s my fault, honey, not yours. Don’t worry, you don’t have to go back to diapers. This is just a little accident, not like what Dolly did.” She set Clara down, then bent down and got Alisa to her still-stunned feet, whispering in her ear as she stood her up, “Wet yourself right now.”

“But I don’t…” Alisa tried to say, only to get an even sterner, “Now!” hissed into her ear that might have scared her into wetting herself on its own.

“And look,” Mommy said, pressing her hand to Alisa’s still-dampening diaper, “we just diapered Dolly, and she already had an accident!”

“Yeah,” Clara giggled as she checked Alisa as well. “Should we change her?”

“No, these diapers are nice and thick,” Mommy chuckled. “She’ll be okay for a while. Why don’t we go get you changed, though?” Clara nodded, and before Alisa knew what had hit her, she had been plopped down into the crib and left alone in just her wet Pampers, mind still reeling from the rapid descent that had left her in this place, trying not to think about where the stories tended to go from here.

Diaper Dimension Fan-Art

So, no new chapter today, but something pretty cool. My first piece of fan-art! The talented Ausdpr, of Sir Spankalot’s Emporium of Frivolous Erotica, has drawn a piece for the latest chapter of Diaper Dimension – sort of. Go to his blog to get the full story, but here’s the picture.

Thanks so much! And if anyone else feels inspired, I love fan-art, so feel free to take a crack at it!

Edit: And here’s a cool alternate version.

Edit again: And here’s a second picture! 

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Meeting Mommy

Alisa thought she was about to find the answer to that question, but once her Pull-Up was on, she was left strapped to the table for what seemed an awfully long time, especially for the usually efficient nursery. Finally, after a minute or two that seemed like an eternity, the voice said, “Please wait. Your mommy is reading the report on your behavior today.”

Alisa’s cheeks burned as she thought about the things the room had told her it was recording, and about some stranger just standing there, reading them. She didn’t like knowing herself that she’d wet the bed, but it was quite humiliating to know that this person, whoever it was, would know that about her as soon as she saw her. That would definitely make it harder to explain that she was really an adult stuck in this place, though if someone had claimed her, then they probably already knew that… She just had to hope they cared.

“Received consent,” the voice chirped mysteriously. “Starting video feed.”

Consent? For what?! Alisa didn’t have long to wonder, as the table flipped her over onto her bloated stomach, eliciting a groan, and then slid her across it until her legs were hanging off the edge, leaving her bottom sticking out, naked once her Pull-Ups were yanked down. Alisa whined and fought, suddenly all too aware of what was coming, remembering the threats the room had given earlier about her behavior, realizing her trying to take out her pacifier must have been the last strike. She was about to get another spanking, while her “mommy” whoever that was, watched remotely.

Surely they would see that she was still red from her last spanking, and that she didn’t need another so soon. Surely her “mommy” would call it off, and Alisa could meet her and try to explain everything and…

Thwack!

Alisa bit down into her pacifier as one of the hands slapped against her sore backside. Compared to it, the ones she’d gotten through the afternoon had just been love taps, though of course she now didn’t have any padding protecting her. She barely had time to process it before the next spank came, and the next, one after the other, far faster than the headmistress. She wasn’t sure if there were a lot of hands – it felt like she was getting spanked by an octopus, and she supposed it was possible there were eight or more hands participating – or just one going very quickly, but it didn’t really matter, as the end result was the same.

She groaned futilely into her pacifier, tears running down her face. After a few seconds, her legs began to kick behind her. She was only partially conscious of it, and in the heat of the moment, she wasn’t even sure if her body was doing it on her own, or if she had knowingly initiated it. It didn’t last long, however, before restraints grew from the side of the table, grasping her ankles and pulling them tight to it, leaving her truly incapable of doing anything but take her second spanking of the day. She was sure she could feel her backside swelling, and there was no doubt it would be quite red beneath her Pull-Ups for quite some time to come.

The only thing that distracted her from the pain was the building cramps in her bowels. It was bad enough getting spanked while some faceless “mommy” watched, but she wasn’t about to poop herself at the same time. And yet, each time a cramp came, it was a little harder to focus on controlling it. When she could, it did help make the spanking feel not quite so bad, but she knew if it went on too long, she’d be broken down to a sobbing mess, unable to think about anything but the pain. She could feel wetness dripping down her thighs as her bladder betrayed her once again, quite possibly a prelude to something much worse.

Luckily, as quickly as it began, the spanking halted. She was kept in place, but the hands on the side of the table proved just as adept at cleaning her wet legs up as the ones on top, and her Pull-Up was tugged back over her freshly-warmed bottom. She was unstrapped from the table, and the pacifier was unstrapped from her head, letting her sob all the more loudly. A moment later, a large hand from the hall outside popped in, wrapping itself around her, taking her back through the building, toward whoever was waiting for her, whoever had agreed to let her be spanked, and watched while it happened. Even though she knew it was useless, she started to squirm anyway, only to remember that only made the hand tighten, which, considering how tightly it was already pressed around her full tummy, was a bad thing.

And then something worse happened. Another cramp hit. She could practically feel the mess starting to push out already, and, red-faced, she tried to stop it, tried to move her hands from where they were pinned to her sides to press them against the seat of her Pull-Up, tried to do something, so frantic that her newly-relearned knowledge of just what that struggling would do was forgotten, or ignored in favor of trying to do something, anything, to stop this latest humiliation. “Let me go!” she wailed, kicking her dangling legs. “You can’t do this to me! Let go of me, you stupid machine!”

She felt a pressure against the back of her training pants, a sudden tightness as they were being pushed in that direction by something inside. “No…” she whimpered pitifully, too caught up in trying to stop it to care that she was only getting squeezed tighter for her efforts, which just made it harder. She felt like a tube of toothpaste as the warm mess forced its way out, expanding the back of her Pull-Up before oozing out in every other direction, slowly filling what felt like every inch of the garment, covering her crotch with the gooey load. She was sure she had never gone so much at once in her life – that little “snack” of hers likely had something to do with that, but she suspected it was also due to this body, and world, considering that she seemed to be peeing a lot more than normal, too.

By the time the hand set her down, she was crying again, mortified, her Pull-Up sagging heavily between her legs as she was stood in front of one of the giant women. “She has had another accident,” the building’s voice told the woman. “We will note that in her file. Would you like us to change her before you go?”

“No, it’s all right,” the woman said. Alisa had just assumed she didn’t recognize her because her eyes were too blurry from her tears, but the voice wasn’t familiar, either. “Please bring my ‘other’ daughter now.” With that, the woman turned her full attention to Alisa, pulling up her skirt to reveal the training pants below. Alisa half-heartedly tried to stop her, only to get her hand slapped away. “My, you really did have an accident, didn’t you?” she asked, shaking her head. Alisa assumed it was a rhetorical question until the woman repeated, “Didn’t you?”

“Umm… Y-Yeah…” Alisa blushed, wishing the hands would come to take her away again.

“I just saw you a couple minutes ago,” the woman shook her head, looking over at a monitor mounted on the wall, where presumably she had watched the spanking. “You couldn’t even hold it that long? I’m surprised this place still let you wear trainers.”

“No, y-you don’t under…” And then, because her body hadn’t failed her enough that day, Alisa’s eyes widened as she felt another sudden cramp, and, before she could stop it, she had bent over and finished the job she had started on the trip out with one final rush of mush making its way into her pants.

“My word, you are pathetic, aren’t you?” the woman sighed. “Imagine my surprise when I came to pick up my daughter and heard there was someone else who had been brought in with her ID chip in their clothes. I was going to be content with watching you get spanked, but clearly,” the woman gave the seat of Alisa’s Pull-Ups a hard pat, making the girl squirm and squeak, “you can’t be left on your own. Don’t worry, I’ll help you find your Mommy – I’m sure she’ll be glad to find you, and upset to hear about you running around and stealing things – but in the meantime, you’re going to help me out. Understand?”

The woman towered over Alisa, and even without her freshly filled pants, and the freshly spanked bottom beneath them, she would have felt too intimidated to do much else than say, “Y-Yeah…”

“It’s ‘yes, ma’am,” the woman informed her. “I’ve always heard you little ones have atrocious manners. I’ve also heard you’re immature and all but helpless… I guess since those are obviously true, I should have expected the rest was, too. How old are you?”

Alisa considered lying, but thought better of it. If she said she was too much younger, that might just motivate the woman to find her real ‘mommy’ sooner. “I’m twenty-five,” she said, pausing for a moment before adding the, “ma’am.”

“And still pooping your pants?” The woman shook her head. “It’s a good thing we’re so much smarter than you. I don’t know if I could take changing Clara’s diapers for that much longer.”

“You don’t understand, I…” Alisa tried to explain, a little mad over the comment, and still embarrassed by what this woman had seen her do.

“Quiet!” the woman commanded. A moment later, Alisa saw why, as a little girl ran into the woman’s arms. She looked like she was about four, maybe, and wearing a pair of Pull-Ups that matched Alisa’s own, at least on the outside, under a yellow sundress. She was also clearly a giant, as she was nearly as tall as Alisa, who stood by awkwardly as mother and daughter reunited.

“Who’s she?” Clara asked once she had let go of her mother, only then seeming to notice Alisa.

“You can just call her Dolly,” her mother said, ignoring Alisa opening her mouth to try to let them know. “She’s here for your help! She’s having problems with her potty training, too, and she’s heard you’re doing so much better than her, so she’s coming home with us for a little while to learn from you!”

Alisa took a nervous step back as Clara really started to examine her. “Did Dolly make a poopy?” Clara asked with a wrinkled nose.

It was stupid, and pointless, but Alisa still automatically answered, “N-No…”

“Yeah-huh!” Clara grabbed Alisa, lifting her skirt like her mother had, and poking the bloated Pull-Up. “You’re all stinky and squishy! Mommy, Dolly didn’t even know she went poopy! She should be in diapers, huh? Not big girl Pull-Ups like me!”

“That’s right,” the girl’s mother agreed. “Don’t worry, when we get home, I’ll show you how to put her into one of your old diapers. Now come on, you two, let’s go.” Clara took Alisa’s hand as her mother took hers, and the three walked out of the entrance of the building to the woman’s car, Alisa trailing slightly behind from her bow-legged stance, trying to avoid making too big of a mess of her mess.

“I think Dolly should ride in the car seat,” Clara suggested, “since she’s such a baby.” Alisa tried to pull away from the huge toddler’s grip, but the girl was strong, and while Alisa was an inch or two taller, Clara likely outweighed her, since she still had more of her baby fat. She also probably didn’t want to lose her new toy so soon, Alisa thought bitterly.

“Well, since it’s not too far, I guess that’s okay,” Clara’s mother acquiesced. “We’ll bring along one of your old seats next time, so you can both have one. I think she’ll fit.”

“I don’t need a car seat!” Alisa whined, but that did nothing to stop the woman from picking her up and depositing her right on her dirty bottom in the car seat, pulling the strap tightly up over her crotch. All of her hard work in waddling her way to the car, knowing it made it obvious she had a load in her pants, but also knowing that, hard as it was to accept, that was her most dignified option, was undone in a moment, and would be undone even further if the road home was bumpy at all, considering the hard plastic seat beneath her, with only the slightest padding.

Alisa had worn diapers back home many times, and even gotten up the courage to wet them on more than a few occasions, but she’d never actually messed herself. She had been slowly trying to build up to it, curious as to how it felt, but even if she had made it that far, the idea of actually sitting in it was gross enough that she was sure that would have taken a little longer still to convince herself to do. There was a part of her that was a little excited that she’d gotten to try that all already, so soon, but the fact that she’d had no choice, that she was forced into this, and was being forced to stay this way with no idea of how long she’d be stuck this way, sucked most of the enjoyment out of it.

It came as no real surprise that the short ride around the block to their house was riddled with speedbumps, each one making Alisa gag a little as her throbbing backside squished the warm load more and more. It was also no surprise that, once they got to the house and the mother had unstrapped her, the woman declared that she would need a bath before she got her diaper on. “It’s a good thing we kept all your baby stuff set up for when your little cousin comes to visit, isn’t it?” the mother asked, picking Alisa up and putting the struggling girl on her hip. “Why don’t you go get the bath ready, and then you come get us in there?”

Clara was all too happy to help, dashing off while Alisa was carried away, up a set of seemingly huge steps, to another nursery on the house’s second floor. This one, at least, had a real window, but seeing as it was on the second floor, Alisa doubted she would be getting out of it like she had escape the school. As if knowing what Alisa was thinking about, the woman proceeded to strip Alisa, pulling her clothes off until she was in just her underwear, like she had been in the office, though then those underwear were far less infantile, and in much better shape. The woman laid her down on the changing table, making sure to use the strap over Alisa’s stomach to keep her from rolling off before tearing the sides of the Pull-Up.

“Now, you listen here,” the woman said as she began cleaning the mess from Alisa’s nether regions, making the girl wriggle at the cool touch of the baby wipes. “Your name is Dolly. You will not respond to, or call yourself, anything else. You are going to wear diapers, and you are going to use them. You can, and will, ask Clara to take you to the potty when you need to go, so she can remember to do so herself, and set a good example for you, but you will not be using it yourself – I don’t want you to give her the idea that you might be ready to move on to Pull-Ups, at least not until she’s almost ready for her big girl panties. You will do whatever she says, whenever she says it. If I catch you doing anything I don’t like, I promise you, that spanking the nursery gave you will feel like nothing compared to what I can do with a hairbrush. Do you understand?”

Alisa wanted nothing more than to say no. She didn’t want to be here, to be trapped in diapers, pretending not to be potty trained, to be the plaything of a toddler. But she had been spanked twice that day, once while this woman watched, and she’d messed herself under this woman’s gaze. Even if she hadn’t been a couple feet taller than Alisa, the girl would have felt utterly helpless next to her at this point, unable to say anything but a sniffled, “Y-Yes, ma’am.”

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – A Quiet Afternoon

It should not have been any surprise to her to wake up to a cool, clammy Pull-Up, but it was still an unpleasant sensation. She squirmed in her crib, reaching down with a grimace to prod the soaked padding between her legs, feeling a little sick at the idea of what that meant.

As if to emphasize that, her hand was pushed aside by another, checking her Pull-Up before declaring in its not-quite-human voice, “Bedwetter status noted on profile.”

“No!” she tried to yell from behind her pacifier. She didn’t want that on any kind of record! She wanted to think this was a one time thing, but she knew it likely wasn’t. After all, given where she was, and the position she was in, it was almost guaranteed that she would be a bedwetter – she just hadn’t thought about that until now, waking up to the evidence. She couldn’t remember having ever wet her bed in the real world, though she was sure she must have as a little kid once or twice. Here, the other her likely had to deal with it every morning.

The hands picked her up and put her back onto the changing table, which quickly and efficiently cut her sodden Pull-Up loose and deposited it into the dirty diaper pail. She squirmed a little as a stream of water was sprayed onto her crotch, and a hand went about cleaning her up. Either trying to calm her down, or just sensing it was time for another “bottle”, the tube in her pacifier began to deliver more apple juice into her mouth. Already, she found herself just giving in, swallowing without even trying to fight it, too worried about what was happening to her a little lower down.

Was this it? She’d had an “accident”… Usually, it only took one or two before the protagonist was demoted back to diapers permanently. But, luckily, perhaps because the incident had happened overnight, the table produced a regular, non-overnight, Pull-Up instead of a diaper. She felt incredibly relieved by that, even though she knew, from the stories, she might as well be in diapers. Nobody ever earned their way back into real underwear once they were in training pants. Usually, they never even had a chance to use the bathroom – something always happened to ensure they had to go in their pants, and then it was a one way trip back to an even more childish garment.

Once the Pull-Up was securely in place, the hands set her back up and pulled off her nightshirt, then put her into a bright yellow shirt that barely came to her belly button. For a moment, she was afraid that was all she’d get, but then they produced a pink jumper, pulling her to her feet so the skirt could fall down, just past her Pull-Up, before sitting her back down at the edge of the table. As she watched the fake window slowly continue to change its scene from night to day, the hands continued to work on her, tying her hair into a pair of ponytails with pink ribbons and slipping white ankle socks and pink Mary-Janes onto her feet at the same time. Just as the sun reached the same position it had been in when she’d first been brought to the room, she was apparently declared finished, and placed back on the floor with a pat to her red, padded bottom.

To her surprise, the apple juice stopped then as well. The tube detached from the pacifier, retracting back into the ceiling, and her pacifier was unstrapped and taken away. She knew it was temporary, and they could return at any moment if she misbehaved, the threat of just that hanging over her every action.

“What would you like to do?” the room asked her.

“I want out of here,” she pouted.

“It is not group playtime,” she was told. “Not all the children are up from their naps. Would you like to color?” A coloring book and crayons appeared from the floor. Alisa wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Usually, when she was playing, she loved to color, but here, knowing she could be trapped as an overgrown – if only slightly – toddler for good, she couldn’t stand the thought of it. “Do you want a snack?”

“Hell, no!” she snapped instantly. She still felt stuffed from her last feeding. And, to make matters worse, she was feeling something else, too, an ominous, if inevitable, grumbling from her guts. She was sure she hadn’t been asleep that long, and she’d barely eaten anything that morning before going to see Dr. Bremer. Could she really have digested that oatmeal already? Of course, this was another world, and she knew things worked differently, maybe even right down to that sort of thing. She had thought it had seemed like she was peeing more often than usual, too…

And, as she thought about that, she got a demonstration. Without warning, she got another smack on the butt, this one much harder than the playful one she’d gotten on being put on the floor. It was enough to make her jump and let out a little yelp, and a little something else into her pants. She managed to stop it, with a blush, but it was quite a surprise to her. After how heavy her naptime Pull-Up had been, she’d been sure it would take a while for the apple juice she’d just drank to make its reappearance, but apparently not.

“Did you have an accident?”

Alisa had suspected that the hands hadn’t really needed to check her before, that the room had sensors for that sort of thing and it had just done it to be “comforting” or something, though it had made the whole thing even more embarrassing for her. Its timing now only confirmed that, even as the hands popped up from the floor to lift her skirt and check her again, even as she found herself giving the stereotypical response of a bashful, “No…” It was silly, but she understood the impulse now. She hadn’t even been in this Pull-Up five minutes, and already she’d had an accident. She didn’t want to admit to that!

Of course, it was pointless to lie here, but that hadn’t stopped her. It earned her another swat, though this time she managed to keep herself under control. “Only naughty girls lie,” the room said. “And if naughty girls cannot behave, they get spankings. I will give you one more chance, little one.”

“I’m sorry!” Alisa squeaked. One spanking in a day was bad enough – she didn’t want a second.

“I will give you another chance with your potty training as well,” the voice answered. “But your accident has been noted.”

This must be what it felt like to be a baby, Alisa mused. When you were small enough, it seemed like your mommy was everywhere, that she could do anything, that she knew everything – including the state of your pants, almost before you did. The idea of escaping from her, from outsmarting her, was so far out of the question that it wasn’t even worth considering. She was the adult, you were the baby, and that was that. There was nothing you could do about it.

Alisa shook her head, trying to snap herself out of that chain of thought before she got too depressed. Sure, this place was bigger and faster and more powerful than her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find some way to escape… somehow. It just might be difficult. She couldn’t give up, though! She wasn’t even in diapers yet!

“Do you want to play with your dolls?” the voice asked, gently pushing Alisa toward the pile of toys in the corner. When Alisa shook her head, part of the wall opened up, revealing a screen beneath. “Would you like to watch something?” Rows of colorful icons displaying the main characters from all sorts of children’s movies and TV shows lined the screen. Alisa couldn’t help wandering over to look at it, waddling ever so slightly, scrolling through the list. There wasn’t anything there someone older than a preschooler would find entertaining, though.

“No,” she told the room finally. “I don’t wanna see any of that!”

But when the menu screen blinked off, it was replaced by a cartoon, full of bright colors and characters with loud, annoying voices. “I said I don’t wanna watch it!” she repeated, stomping her foot.

“You are being crabby,” the voice told her. “This will help cheer you up.”

“No, it won’t! I don’t wanna watch it!” The feeling of helplessness was only amplified by her pointless argument, but not nearly as much as when she went to stomp her foot again, only to feel herself being lifted into the air. She looked down in surprise to see that something had been raised from under the floor beneath her legs, something that had gone up her legs like an oversized pair of panties made of hard plastic. She didn’t recognize it until she saw the straps, which had come down from the ceiling, attach to it, leaving her sitting in it, suspended a foot or two above the floor. She was in a baby bouncer.

“Let me out!” Alisa demanded, but all her thrashing just made the seat bob in place harmlessly. After a few seconds, she decided to try another tactic. “How am I supposed to make it to the potty like this? I’ll have an accident for sure by the time you get me out!” Unfortunately, she knew that was probably true, too, as much as she’d like to think she was just making it up to get out of this latest humiliation.

“We will not count this time toward your official accident count,” the voice told her. What Alisa heard was basically, ‘We know you can’t keep your pants dry anyway, but we don’t want to deal with you right now. Just shut up and pee away.’ It was hardly a flattering way to win an argument, but when she started to open her mouth again, the pacifier was replaced and restrapped, with the hand doing so patting her on the head before retreating, leaving her there, with no choice but to watch the inane kid’s show playing in front of her. She was sure she could feel herself growing dumber from watching it, but there was nothing else for her to do, and she was a little afraid if she tried to ignore it, she’d have her eyes pried open like Clockwork Orange.

She had no idea how long the show was – it felt like a couple hours, but given it was meant for young children, that seemed unlikely – but she barely made it through an episode before her bladder felt like it was going to burst. She tried to hold it, but every motion she made, whether it be trying to press her hands against her crotch through the seat, or crossing her legs, only made her bounce around more, which wasn’t much of a help, and within minutes of realizing just how badly it had gotten, she felt the wet stream begin pouring into her Pull-Up, spreading throughout the padding and gradually warming it, softening it, beneath her.

Before she had even finished, the tube reappeared from the ceiling and began pumping more apple juice through her pacifier. “We do not want you to get dehydrated,” the voice explained. She had no doubt that this wasn’t a coincidental timing, and that made it all the worse, knowing that the room, and whatever, or whoever, was running it knew she was peeing, probably knew she was still going even as it began refilling her tummy, and ultimately her bladder.

As she bounced, Pull-Up squishing damply against her sore behind, she had a rather unpleasant thought. Her bowels were feeling more and more full with each passing moment… What if she wasn’t let out of the bouncer in time? With the pacifier in, she couldn’t even beg for mercy. She’d just sit there, helpless, filling her pants, getting messier with each bounce, and bouncing more every time she tried to fight back and stop her own body from doing its icky deed, feeling more and more like a baby as she was forced to watch the same, stupid show…

Just when she was sure that was the fate that was about to befall or, or at least that she was about to go crazy from the program on the TV, it blinked off. Alisa was relieved, of course, but also curious, as she certainly hadn’t been able to request it, and the voice hadn’t said anything. After a moment, the screen sprang back to life, this time displaying a face. Alisa had only seen it once before, and here it looked a little different – it had been pretty in the real world, but here it looked like an actress in a movie where she had to pretend to be ugly until a “makeover”, slightly frazzled but still undeniably sexy underneath it – but it was unmistakably Dr. Bremer.

Alisa’s heart nearly skipped a beat as the woman on the screen said, “There you are.” Could the doctor have jumped to this world, too? Was she going to make it out of here before the truly humiliating accident brewing in her guts really happened?

“Hmm… Well, you are new, everything looks normal enough. I just don’t have the record for you being signed up, but maybe it just got lost. Sorry for interrupting, little one!” The doctor reached for something, probably turning off her video feed to the room, and cutting off Alisa’s contact with her.

Desperately, Alisa tried to speak, but it was blocked by the pacifier. Thinking fast, she reached up, pointing to the paci, and tube coming out of it.

“Oh, are you hungry after your nap?” The woman looked away for a moment, pressing a few buttons, missing the horrified shaking of Alisa’s head. Almost instantly, the apple juice started, and the thick, tasteless oatmeal began being pumped into her mouth again. Frantically, Alisa began tugging at the pacifier strap, praying Dr. Bremer would look back over at her and see it instead of just assuming she’d correctly guessed what was bothering Alisa and signing off without glancing at her screen.

A sharp smack to the back of her thighs – she supposed because her bottom was protected by the bouncer’s seat – made her jump and wet herself just a little more, likely thanks to that apple juice she’d had since her last accident, since otherwise she’d been sure after so big an accident there couldn’t be anything left in her bladder. “Good girls leave their pacifiers alone,” the room’s voice said, and it was something of a relief to see that Dr. Bremer wasn’t behind it, as the other woman seemed just as surprised to hear it, turning and, thankfully, spotting Alisa’s pantomime.

“Did you have something you wanted to tell me?” the doctor asked. “That’s sweet, but I’m very busy, dear… Oh, and it looks like your mommy is here to pick you up! I hope to see you again soon!”

The oatmeal stopped after all, but Alisa was still left frustrated as she was plucked out of the bouncer and taken to the changing table, where she was changed into a dry Pull-Up. Dr. Bremer had been so close! She at least knew where the woman worked now… But she had a more pressing concern at the moment. Who the hell was “mommy”?

Alisa’s Adventures in the Diaper Dimension – Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – The House of Hands

Alisa struggling in vain against the hand enveloping her body as she was pulled through the building. Doorways whizzed past her, each holding an adult baby, most in the midst of a diaper change by an array of the mechanical hands, but a few already in a crib for a nap, bottle held in their mouth by yet another hand. “Let me go!” she growled, pulling on the topmost finger. “I don’t belong here!” That seemed to be her refrain that day – after all, she didn’t belong in this world at all, much less any of these specific places within it. The fingers were wrapped in what felt like quite a bit of soft material, but beneath that, she could feel the hard steel frame that gave the hand its strength, far more than she could hope to muster.

The hand’s path turned, pulling her at last into what she assumed was her own room, setting her down on the soft, carpeted floor. Immediately, she tried to run back through the open door, but the hand was faster than her, moving back and spreading its fingers to block her exit. Frustrated, though hardly surprised, she turned to look at where she’d been taken. It looked a lot like the other rooms she’d been taken past, but it was easier to see now that she was standing still, and on her own two feet. There were plenty of soft, childish toys scattered around on the floor, and in the crib, which looked large enough for her, though not so large she wouldn’t have been able to climb out… At least, if she wasn’t constantly being watched by the hands. There was a changing table, well stocked with a variety of diapers, all of which looked an awful lot like baby diapers, only big enough for her, and much thicker. There was also a high chair, and a big, bright window, although the scenery was very different than what she’d seen when she was outside, so she had a feeling it wasn’t real, even before she noticed the smiley face in the center of the sun, and the cartoon birds floating by.

So she wasn’t going to be getting out the same way she had at the school. And it didn’t look like the hand was going to let her out the door, either. It relaxed after a moment, but the moment she took the first ste in another mad dash for the doorway, it was back in place, and she jumped and yelped as she felt something smack her tender, red bottom, turning in time to see another metallic tentacle that had grown from the wall, this one ending in a paddle. “You know it’s time for…” a mechanical voice, like the one from outside, informed her, before a red light slid down her body. There was a pause, one that Alisa was sure was longer than it should have been even before the voice said, “Error. Subject does not match previous scans.”

Previous? Alisa hadn’t been there before… Had she? She didn’t like to think that this was where her other self had ended up after getting fired from her job, however that had happened. After a moment, she remembered the pacifier emblem, and how it had identified her as “belonging” here. It must have an ID chip of some kind inside, too, and since she’d stolen it off a clothesline, it didn’t belong to her, which was likely what was causing the mismatch in the nursery’s database. “I told you, I don’t belong here!” she said, though she had no idea if the place could listen, much less if it was. How advanced was this place? Was there somebody running it? If she could get their attention somehow, maybe that would help her get out, but from what she could remember, in the stories these places all sort of ran themselves.

“Starting new profile,” the voice announced.

“No, don’t do that!” Alisa shook her head. “Just let me go!”

Instead of listening, a pair of silver tendrils dropped from the ceiling, coiling around her arms and lifting her up for a moment before setting her back down – weighing her probably, she realized after a moment. The red light returned, a little more intense this time, moving more slowly up her body before the twin tentacles slid down and grabbed the hem of her dress. With a squeal, she tried to hold it down, only for two more arms to pop out and grab her hands, pulling them up over her head uselessly while the first two lifted the dress up over her head. A small part of the ceiling slid open, then closed again as the dress was tucked away in it, perhaps returning to its rightful owner, leaving Alisa once again in only her panties. It was only then that she noticed they looked a little wetter than they had before. She must have had another little accident in the midst of her capture, and, again, hadn’t even noticed.

She wasn’t nearly naked for long, however – a moment later, another pair of tendrils popped up from the floor, heading straight for her underwear. Her hands were still being held in place, so she tried pressing her thighs together, not liking where this seemed to be going, but, to her dismay, this room still wasn’t out of arms, and two more coiled themselves around her legs, pulling her into a helpless spread eagle position as her wet panties were lowered. The nursery seemed to know they were wet, or just thought she didn’t need them anyway, because instead of tucking them away like it had the dress, yet another tentacle arose from the floor, this one topped with something that shot a smaller, more intense beam of red light that sliced through the panties, letting them fall to the floor, where they were picked up by another stray arm and dropped into the diaper pail beside the changing table.

“Uh-oh,” she sighed, unhappy with that development. Losing your panties in these stories was never good, and mostly permanent. It definitely didn’t look like there were any in this place, so she could only hope that if – no, when – she got out, she could find somewhere else to get some. The red scanning light returned, once again taking its time moving over her prone, naked body. When it blinked back off, she wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but she was more than a little nervous to see the tentacle with the other red light start to move again, and not back into the floor. “What are you doing?” she asked it nervously, though nothing else she’d said had seemed to get a response.

That didn’t either, at least not out loud. A moment later, however, she found out what it was planning, as the cutting light turned back on, this time focused on her crotch. The bonds around her wrists and ankles tightened, making sure she didn’t move and get herself hurt, but she was too scared to have even considered it anyway. As she watched, the light slowly moved over the area, neatly and completely burning away all of her hair there, leaving behind only bare, pale skin. It was another ritual that the people in these stories had to go through, but she had to admit that, in person, it was shocking just how effective it was, how much younger it made her feel.

Just when she thought she was done with this humiliating examination, one final tentacle appeared. It had a tiny hand, and in that hand, it was clutching a large, glass thermometer, its tip greasy with vaseline, as if there was any doubt as to where it would be going. At first she thought the nursery was just being cruel, taunting her, by making her see it, but then she realized that not having any warning would have been quite surprising. After a moment, the hand swooped down and between her legs to behind her. She winced and bit her bottom lip in anticipation, yet it was still bigger and colder than she’d expected as it was slid into her backside.

With everything else in here so high tech, surely there had to be a better way to get her temperature, she thought bitterly while she squirmed, feeling the icy intruder between her cheeks, every movement just making her mechanical captors hold her more tightly. It was too uncomfortable and embarrassing to get herself to stop and just stand still, however, so she just had to endure it until, at last she felt the thermometer being tugged free. After a moment of just standing there, wondering what was next, she was lifted up and carried across the room, deposited onto the changing table.

The tentacles from the room retreated back into the floor and ceiling, but before she could try to escape, new restraints popped up from the table itself, wrapping around her arms and legs, making sure she stayed just as helpless to whatever was going to happen next – and, though she couldn’t see the stacks of diaper beneath her from this position, she still had a very good idea of what was coming.

“Please, don’t make me wear a diaper,” she begged, still unsure if there was any point to trying to reason with the machine, but having to try anyway. “I don’t need one!”

To her surprise, the voice from earlier responded. “You cannot wear your big girl panties,” it informed her, “You had an accident. Little girls who have accidents need protection.”

“No, I dooon’t!” she whined, sniffling. Once she was in diapers she knew things would escalate quickly, and make it far more difficult for her to find her way out of this world. If she could just reason with the machine, maybe she could get it to see that, and then…

A hand dropped down from above her, bearing a large pacifier that it popped into her mouth, while a pair of smaller hands from the table reached up and fastened a strap to it around her head, keeping it in place, rendering her silent, and completely helpless. Another hand popped up on the table, this one between her legs, and began to massage her now smooth crotch. As it moved, she could feel something cool and slick being pumped through it onto her skin, probably baby oil, or lotion, or both – it was hard to tell for sure. Once it was finished, another tentacle arose, without an attachment on the end, rising like a snake and moving toward her privates before blowing out a stream of baby powder, after which the hand went back to massaging. There wasn’t anything sexual about the movement, and not just because Alisa was terrified about what was going to come next – it seemed designed for just that.

Without warning, Alisa was flipped over onto her stomach, and the process began all over again on her sore bottom. She had to admit, after the spanking, it didn’t feel too bad, although that didn’t stop her from trying to thrash her way free, and least until, without warning, she felt a hand thwap her on her butt. It wasn’t quite as hard as the headmistress, but it didn’t have to be. “Good little girls stay still on the changing table,” she was told. In the interest of not getting her backside bruised any further, she did her best to stop squirming.

Finally, once it seemed like every inch of her nether regions was coated in powder and lotion, she was flipped over once more, and an arm reached under the table and returned with a Pull-Up. She breathed a sigh of relief through her pacifier, glad that at least she wasn’t going straight back to diapers. These looked a little different from the ones she’d seen Bailey put into, and after a moment, she noticed the wetness indicators were stars. They must be the nighttime ones, she realized. She supposed that made sense, seeing as it had appeared to be naptime in this place.

Her legs were pulled together, and the Pull-Up was tugged up them and snapped into place at her groin. She had thought Bailey’s Pull-Ups looked a little thicker than normal, but now she knew for sure that they were. While she’d never tried nighttime Pull-Ups in the real world, she knew they weren’t that much bigger than regular ones, which she had squeezed into a time or two when she was a little younger. These were nearly as thick as the diapers she usually wore. She could only imagine what the actual diapers were like – a thought that both excited and scared her.

She was sat up, and the arms from above returned to grasp her hands and raise them into the air, just in time for a nightshirt to be brought down over them. It was pink, with a picture of a sleeping kitten on it, and it looked long enough to go maybe halfway down her Pull-Up if she were allowed to stand, which, of course, she wasn’t. When she was lifted by the tentacles again, she fully expected to be taken to the crib, but, instead, she was plopped down in the high chair, one arm removing and then replacing the tray while she was put into place. Much as she hated to admit it, the Pull-Up really was nice for providing a cushion for her still-throbbing backside, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to get out of it, and here.

The pacifier was removed, allowing her to blurt out, “I’m not hungry!” desperately.

“Our records show no feeding history,” the room’s voice said simply. The chair’s tray grew a hand, while a tube dropped down from above, squeezing out something thick and gray and thoroughly unappetizing into the spoon the tray’s hand was holding. Alisa clamped her mouth shut, but that didn’t stop the hand, which pushed against her lips once, twice, three times, smearing them with the gooey contents of the spoon. “Open up,” it ordered, in as sing-songy a tone as the mechanical voice could produce.

Alisa shook her head. After a moment, the spoon moved away, the whole arm retreating into the table. She thought that, for once, she’d won, especially when the pacifier was brought back out instead. Except that, as it was brought up to her lips, she saw that it wasn’t the same – this one had a hole bored through the center. She kept her mouth shut as the pacifier was pressed to the front of her face, but unlike with the spoon, the hand didn’t give up, and, eventually, it won, with her accidently opening her mouth just enough for it to sneak the pacifier inside. She wrinkled her nose as she tasted some of the goo – oatmeal, she realized – that had gotten onto the pacifier from her lips, and groaned as it was strapped into place, and the food tube approached.

The tube locked into place and, after a few agonizing seconds, she felt her mouth filling with the thick, goopy oatmeal. She really regretted her defiance now, as she had no choice but to swallow, no way to tell the machine she’d had enough. She doubted it would have listened anyway, but at the very least, she could have spit some of it out, maybe. Now, she was forced to swallow every bit of it. She wasn’t sure if it was the disgusting food, her now much smaller stomach and body in general, or what, but it didn’t take long for her to feel quite full. Still, the flow didn’t stop. She had to keep swallowing, feeling more and more like she was about to burst with every mouthful, wondering how much this place really thought she could eat.

Finally, the oatmeal ceased, but it was only a temporary reprieve, as a moment later her mouth was filled with an even more distasteful paste, one that it took her a minute to recognize as prune. Given the consistency, it was likely baby food, not that it mattered much. She had to admit, there had been a part of her that had been worried the oatmeal was laced with laxatives, as almost all oatmeal in the stories was, but now she had a feeling it wasn’t. This was sure to take care of that just fine. The thought made her feel sick to her ever-more-full stomach.

That didn’t last nearly as long as the oatmeal had, and when it was done, she was greeted by the more pleasant taste of mashed banana. That was the shortest of all, and, thankfully, once it was over, the feeding seemed to have ended, and the tube began feeding her a slow drip of apple juice instead while hands removed the tray and lifted her heavy, lethargic body and put it, finally, into the crib.

“Good girls get to give themselves their naptime bottle,” the voice let her know, an incentive for her to behave next time. She doubted the room would have been happy when she refused to drink the bottle she’d been given, though so she might have ended up the same way, being force fed it. “Have a nice nap.”

The lights dimmed, and the window’s scene changed to a nighttime one, with a droopy eyed moon replacing the sun. In the darkness, Alisa could see the designs on her Pull-Up glowing. She groaned, staring up at the bars not so far above her head. This was almost crueller than sticking her in a huge crib, she thought. She had no doubt that as soon as she tried to climb out she’d be stopped, and possibly punished. Even if she wasn’t, she was still attached to the room by the food tube, still delivering a flow of apple juice to her pacifier as she settled down into the crib. She hoped, and assumed, it would stop once she fell asleep. Would it stop before then? Somehow, she had a feeling the answer was no. It was probably a way of encouraging her to go to sleep.

To be honest, though, it wasn’t needed. After her long day, and with her uncomfortably full tummy, it didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, hoping she would wake up and find this was all a dream, even as the pain in her sore bottom reminded her she wouldn’t.