I Am A Baby Pants Prisoner (FF Diaper)

[Ohmster]

Author Unknown

I Am A Baby Pants Prisoner

Moira has asked me (or should I say made) to write this diary. I
don't really want to. It is the story of how I've come to be
wearing diapers 24 hours a day, seven days a week and it isn't
easy for me to tell.

Moira is my parole officer/companion/jailer. She's the one that
got me into this mess and makes sure I live up to my end of the
sentencing program. We get along most of the time. However, when
she decides to enforce the rules more strictly or wants to punish
me for some little offense she can make my life hell.

It all started four months ago when I got busted for hooking. I
was no street girl, you understand. I was executive class all the
way and had more than a few $1,000 nights in the best hotels. If
you could see me you'd know why.

I'm blonde, 105 pounds, with good breasts and legs. Clothes look
good on me and when I add a pair of my favorite spike pumps, I
can usually get a man to do anything I desire.

My best feature is my face. I look even younger than my 24 years
and I guess that's partly why I was offered the Alternative
Sentencing Program.

Sitting in the prisoner's room on the day of my sentencing, I had
no idea what ASP was all about. If I had, I would never have let
Moira talk me into it. I was scared of going to prison, even if
it was just for two years. I've seen what girls look like after
being in the joint and I didn't want that to happen to me.

I guess I was pretty vulnerable and showed it. Moira came up to
me, all pretty and efficient in her tailored suit, patent pumps
and silk blouse and turned on the charm.

"You're going to get two years, you know," she said
sympathetically.

"So?" I was suspicious.

I had seen enough of jails not to trust anybody.

"If I could get you 1 to 3 years of special parole would you be
interested?"

"Sure, what's the catch?"

More suspicion. Nobody gives anything away for free.

"I can't tell you the details. It's an experimental pro-gram.
You'll have to trust me."

I didn't like the thought of trusting a stranger but Moira would
say nothing more about the program. I only had a few minutes to
think about it before the bailiff came for me. I told Moira I
would go along with her plan and as I entered the court room she
went up to talk to the judge.

I don't know if that old fart of a judge was in on the deal or
not. He sure gave me a funny look, as if he was pitying me my
fate. He sentenced me to 1-3 years of parole in the ASP and that
was the end of it.

The first time I knew something was funny was when Moira insisted
on strapping my hands behind my back with a pair of leather cuffs
joined by a short length of chain. I was caught off guard.

"What are these for if I'm on parole?" I asked her sullenly.

"You're still a prisoner of the court until you begin the
program. After your indoctrination you won't be going very far
very fast and we'll be able to forget about these."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked in alarm.

Moira had nothing more to say. She led me from the court to her
private car and helped me get in. Sitting in a car while
handcuffed isn't comfortable and I told Moira as much but she
didn't even answer.

As we drove toward the suburbs, I tried to get Moira to talk
about the program. She flashed me some wicked smiles but wouldn't
volunteer anything except that I was the first person to take
advantage of the program and that I had better be a model student
or it would look bad for her. She got her message across. I may
have avoided prison but I hadn't avoided the hassle of being
someone's petty servant.

When we turned into the entrance of the State Mental Hospital, I
got scared fast.

"What are we doing here? I'm not crazy!"

Moira just smiled one of those wicked smiles of which I was
already sick telling me to keep quiet and do as I was told.

They were waiting for us. Moira must have called them before we
left the courthouse. There were two burly nurses who looked as if
they enjoyed pushing people around to greet us. With my hands
behind my back, wearing a mini skirt and spike pumps, I was in no
condition to give them a hard time.

They took me to an examining room. My heart stopped cold when I
saw the obstetrical examining table fitted out with restraining
straps. I never did get used to those damn things and the straps
told me that I wasn't going to like what they were going to do to
me once they got me all strapped down with my legs held wide
apart.

Despite their advantage in numbers and size, they didn't release
my hands before undressing me. My skirt, pantyhose and panties
went first. It felt weird to be bare from the waist down. Without
a word, they hoisted me onto the table and strapped my legs down
tight. By now I was trembling from fear. They loosened the cuffs
and had my blouse and bra off before I could even think about
resisting. Then they made me lie back so they could fasten my
wrists in cuffs attached to the table and pull a wide leather
band tight across my middle. I couldn't move an inch.

I demanded to know what the hell was going on but everybody
ignored me. Moira had disappeared and the two ape-women
pre-tended they didn't understand English.

After a few minutes of my angry monologue, one of them turned to
me and said, "Shut up if you know what's good for you. We can
make you life hell from here on in if we feel like it."

I decided to keep quiet. That lasted until I saw what was on the
tray of instruments she was wheeling toward me. A straight razor,
a bowl of water, a can of shaving foam and some towels. I moaned
loudly in despair and let my body go limp. There were worse
things than having your crotch shaved but not too many, or so I
thought then. Why did they want my crotch free of hair?

I once had a client who paid me quite well to keep my twat shaved
but it's a different story when someone else is doing it to you
against your will. I did my best to keep still but the sound of
my own gasps seemed to echo in the room. When it was over, I had
this tremendous urge to run my hands over my new nakedness down
there but I guessed it was pointless to ask for my hands free.

They left me alone after that. It must have been an hour or more.
There were no clocks in the room but I could see the sun travel
across the window. When the next crew arrived, I knew I was in
for something I wouldn't like.

They were all decked out in surgical garb and they brought a lot
of stuff on carts with them. Even though they all wore masks, I
was sure that one of them was Moira. Nobody said any-thing to me
or to each other. Panic took over and I began to pull against the
straps, cussing them all the while. Then some-one put a rubber
mask over my mouth and nose and that was the last thing I
remember until I woke up.

The first thing I remember feeling when I came out of the
anesthetic, was the awful burning in my bladder. Then I found out
I couldn't move my arms or legs. I vaguely remembered the straps
on the table.

It took a while for my head to clear. The room was blurry and
spun around a lot. I had a hell of a headache and my muscles were
cramped from being in the same position so long. A nurse, wearing
a surgical mask leaned over me and said something but I didn't
understand. I tried to talk but my mouth was too dry and it
tasted like chemicals.

I don't know how long it took but I finally got my shit together
enough to try to find out what they had done to me. I raised my
head a little and got the shock of my life.

My arms and legs were encased in smooth, white plaster casts.
Worse, I was wearing a pair of adult size plastic pants. Part of
me didn't want to believe it but when I sensed the heat and the
padding between my legs, I knew they had me in diapers.

I must have grunted or something because the nurse came back and
told be to relax and be quiet. She gave me a sip of water and
that helped a lot. As soon as I lay back down I sensed a trickle
of pee begin to run out of me. I froze with the shock of it. I
tried to clamp down, to stop the flow, but I had no control. I
felt hot water hit the diaper and spread out. It felt awful. I
was ashamed. The plastic pants didn't show that anything had
happened.

The nurse had disappeared again. I tried to figure out what they
were up to. I felt a little better when I remembered that post-op
patients sometimes have temporary bladder control problems but I
still wanted to know why they had put me under and why I was in
casts to the point I couldn't move.

By the time Moira turned up, I was most curious and more than a
little pissed off. Pee was leaking out of me as if I was a busted
radiator and I couldn't do a thing about it. I judged the diaper
to be about soaked and yet the thought of asking for "a change"
was too humiliating to take seriously.

She circled me. I realized that I was still on the examining
table but there were no straps holding me any more. The casts
took care of that function. She wore a very satisfied look. She
had a secret to tell and she was going to make me beg for it.

"Don't you want to know what's happened to you?" she asked coyly.

"I'm sure you'll get around to telling me in your own sweet
time," I said and grunted with the effort of trying to lift an
arm encased in plaster.

It seemed heavier than I expected. Then I noticed the
doughnut-like thing around my wrist. A weight. A quick check told
me that I wore one on each wrist and ankle. I was helpless. I did
my best to hide the shiver of fear that ran down my spine.

Moira came up to the side of the table and leaned so close that I
could smell her perfume and see that her eyeliner needed a
touch-up.

"You're in diapers, Sandy. Just think about that for a moment.
You're all bundled up like a baby and helpless to do anything
about it."

I felt my lower lip tremble despite my best efforts at
maintaining a tough face. I knew I was in diapers. God how I
knew! But, the unspoken questions were, for how long and why?

"I know," I said quietly, "any idiot can see that."

Moria started her pacing again. It drove me wild because I
couldn't keep her in my field of vision. When you're helpless,
you notice these things. I twisted and grunted but the casts and
the heavy weights attached to my limbs were very effective in
keeping me subdued. All I managed to do was tire myself out.

"Go ahead, struggle. It won't do you any good."

I hated Moira for saying that. It was true and the truth hurts. I
was losing my cool, and fast.

"OK, game time is over, you win. What's this all about?"

I didn't like the sound of my own voice. It was too desperate,
too pleading. I was signalling my surrender whether I liked it or
not.

She took her sweet time about answering. I wondered if she knew
what "pregnant pause" meant. She made me sweat those seconds
before she replied.

"Oh, it's quite simple really. The Alternative Sentencing Program
works on a very basic principle. Rather than lock people like you
up in a prison as a negative reinforcement against your
unacceptable behavior, in your case prostitution, we provide a
more.... intimate form of negative reinforcement."

She hadn't really come out and said it but a dark suspicion began
to form in the back of my mind at the same time as another burst
of pee flooded into my diaper (it really bothered me to think of
it as my diaper). I was too stunned to offer any comment and
Moira wasn't going to rush in with the good news. She wanted me
to beg for it. I did.

My voice was almost a whisper, not quite what I had intended but
it got me an answer.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you realized what you're wearing?"

"Yeah, diapers. I've mentioned that, remember?"

I wasn't sure if I really wanted to hear the rest of what she had
to say but part of me was dying of curiosity.

"Remember your sentence? It's one to three years. That means you
can count on at least 12 months of pads and plastic pants." She
leaned close again, "I wonder how many of your `johns' will go
for this rig!"

She slapped my plastic panties hard enough to cause another rush
of hot wet pee. I moaned despite myself.

She resumed her strutting. I was reminded of a Nazi officer in a
war movie. It was time to clear up the last obvious point, no
matter how awful the news.

"Moira," I said as carefully and rationally as I could, "you
can't keep me in casts for a year. It would cost as much as a
prison cell."

She paused at the side of the table and began to run her hand
over the plastic panties. I wondered if she could feel the sodden
padding underneath. She pressed harder and it began to arouse me.
I wanted to pull away but my legs were too heavy with the casts
and weights. I tried to ignore it while I waited for her to drop
the penny.

"Don't worry about the casts. They're only for a week or so. Just
a little appliance to help your indoctrination. No, the real gem
is the shunt that we placed in your urethra where it joins the
bladder."

She let her stroking get harder, knowing full well what she was
doing.

"You're incontinent, Sandy. You have no choice but to wear
diapers until we decide otherwise. For the next year you'll be
peeing and probably messing yourself uncontrollably. Now how do
you like that?"

I wanted to scream. I had guessed as much a lot earlier but I
hadn't been willing to admit it to myself. There I was lying on a
table as helpless as an infant and this woman had just told me I
was going to be a very big toddler for at least the next year.
Finally I did scream, and it felt good. At least until the two
ape-women returned and put a rubber thing in my mouth.

I used to like to be tied up during sex, just to feel helpless
for a while. The next four days were like that but different.
There sure as hell was no fun in it for me.

I had a private room, thank God. The last thing I needed was some
horny male psycho taking advantage of me. The hospital wasn't air
conditioned and it was July. I had nothing to do but lie there
all day, sweat, think about being in diapers and suffer through
Moira's cheerful visits.

Well, I did have some amusement. If you've ever had to wear a
cast in the summer time you'll know all about the itch. After a
while it drives you crazy. Between that and trying to get used to
using diapers for all my eliminations, I was just about ready for
admission as a regular patient by the time Moira came to take me
home.

Whoever thought up this crazy scheme knew what they were doing.
With my arms immobilized and nothing else in the room to distract
me, I had no choice but to focus on the diapers that were changed
three times a day and my many other discomforts.

As far as the nurses were concerned, I was a baby. They refused
to talk to me no matter what I said to them and generally treated
me as a newborn infant.

The morning shift started at 7 AM. Two of them would come in,
remove my always sodden and sometimes messed diapers and bathe
me. By the time they had fresh, extra thick, cloth diapers and a
pair of plastic panties on me, I was sweaty again but it felt
good anyway. Then one of the aides would feed me my breakfast. I
liked that because they cranked the head of the bed up and I got
a different view for a few minutes. They, however, always lowered
it again at the end of the meal and only by looking down my nose
could I see Moira as she preached little sermons standing at the
foot of my bed. After breakfast came the first of the four or
five super-sized baby bottles of juice. A nurse would put a
pillow on my chest, shove the big rubber nipple in my mouth and
prop the bottle against the pillow. I hated the taste but not as
much as I hated the thought of where that liquid was going to end
up.

They feed me a big bottle like that about every two hours. The
result was that I pissed myself constantly, every occasion a
reminder of my new condition.

Moira would have done well as an intelligence officer. Each day
she came in right after breakfast and gave me lots to think about
after she left. I hated her for it.

It took her five days to describe just what the ASP was going to
mean for me during the next 12 to 36 months. The more I heard,
the more I wished I had chosen prison.

Because I was the first ASP prisoner (she used that term a lot
and seemed to like it) Moira and I were going to be living
together. She assured me that her apartment was big enough and
that I should give up mine and put my furniture in storage. As it
turned out, I didn't have any choice. By the time she took me
home, she had already called the storage company and cancelled my
lease.

Business is business, as Moira likes to say, and it turns out
that more than a few hospital supply companies were willing to
donate disposable and cloth diapers, plastic panties and
restraint items, all for my personal benefit. Moira glowed when
she told me about one company that was providing a diaper
restraint belt as a prototype, just for me.

When I asked her why such a belt would be necessary if I was
truly incontinent she replied, "Well, dear, we can't have you
fiddling with yourself, now can we?"

That bothered me. I was just getting used to the diaper trip, in
a curious sort of way. I hadn't thought about sex until then. As
soon as she mentioned it, I got horny. After she told me the
diapers were to act as a kind of chastity belt, I got desperate
for some relief. With my arms were useless, my legs too heavy to
squeeze together and since there was no point in asking anyone to
do it for me, all I could do was I gritted my teeth and tried to
ignore the oldest itch of all.

As I lay there, immobilized and helpless, the one thing I just
couldn't get used to, was the thought of messing myself. During
the first couple of days it was easy to hold back. As soon as the
chart they kept on me failed to report a bowel movement, Moira
was on my case.

"It's inevitable, you know," she said with a smirk.

It was the morning of my third day and I was still hanging on to
my pride.

"Moira, it won't compromise your little program to let me use a
bedpan once in a while."

"Oh, my dear, but it would."

She traced her long fingernails over my taut plastic panties. It
made me horny, all the more because I wanted it so much and yet
couldn't do a thing to stop her.

"I told you that the inconvenience, discomfort and embarrassment
of being in diapers was your therapy."

Now she was stroking my inner thighs. I wanted desperately to
close my legs but the casts and weights were too heavy. I was
beginning to breathe heavily and she noticed, flashed my a cruel
smile and then continued.

"Now I can't think of anything more inconvenient, uncomfortable
and embarrassing than being made to mess yourself, can you?"

I grunted to stifle a moan of pleasure. The bitch! She was
deliberately turning me on while she talked about the worst fate
I could imagine. I looked down at my erect nipples. Moira too was
giving them a hungry look. I wondered if she was bi or gay.

Suddenly she snatched her hand away. She had timed it well. A few
seconds more and I would have had a delicious little orgasm.

"Well, unless you tell me right now that you're going to be a
good little girl and get on with business I'll have to tell the
nurses to give you some encouragement."

I was frustrated and mad. I told her where to shove the idea and
get out of my room. To my surprise, she did. As she left, I began
to wonder what "encouragement" meant.

I found out soon enough. The two apes came back with a lot of
equipment. I figured out what they were up to and realization
caused me to start to scream and struggle, not that it did any
good. To shut me up, one of them stuck a bottle full of juice
into my mouth. It had some kind of holding harness that they
tightened around my head. It was suck or drown, so I started to
gurgle away while I watched them get on with their thing.

They stuck two chrome poles into slots at the foot of my bed and
then ran a couple of canvass straps from the tops of the poles to
my ankles. A couple of seconds later my legs were being hoisted
into the air.

With my legs spread and in the air they had full access to my
crotch. I had been changed only an hour or so earlier so the
diaper was still in pretty good shape. I had expected them to
open the diaper but it turned out differently.

Another nurse came in with a big enema bag and a long length of
hose. The nozzle looked strange. It was long and had two
bulb-like things on it. I got scared. The satisfied looks on
their faces made it all the worse.

As usual, they said nothing to me while they greased this monster
up. Then one of them pulled the crotch of my diapers and plastic
panties to one side while the other began to push the rubber
thing up my behind. It hurt like hell and I tried to tell them as
much. The bottle in my mouth was strapped in tight and the casts
made sure I wasn't in any position to interfere. I screamed
against the rubber nipple but all I got for it was another
mouthful of water. Deeper and deeper it went in until I thought I
couldn't stand it any more.

Then they showed me what the bulbs were all about. One of them
attached an inflation ball, like on a blood pressure cuff, to the
rubber thing in my rear and began to squeeze. I could feel
something inflating inside me. It wasn't too bad at first but
they weren't content with letting it be comfortable. Soon I was
screaming again. I was sure the damn thing was ripping me apart
inside.

The second balloon had been left outside. As it started to swell,
I guessed how the damn thing worked. Pretty soon my poor little
rosebud had a rock hard balloon on either side of it and even I
was sure that nothing inside me would leave my body until I was
"uncorked."

They attached the hose from the enema bag to the thing in my rear
and hung the bag up. I could see the clamp that until now had
kept the solution from leaking out. One of the nurses put her
hand on it, looked me dead in the eye, winked, and then took the
clamp off.

It felt as if Niagara Falls was running up my ass and my body
tensed up with the impact. It drove me mad. I pulled against the
casts all I could and screamed into that damned rubber nipple
but, as usual, I was totally helpless. My strength soon drained
away and I ended up lying there quietly, making pitiful little
moaning sounds while the nurses pressed the enema bag to make
sure I got as much of the solution as possible. When the bag was
about as empty as it was going to get, they clamped the hose just
outside the rubber thing, turned on their heels and left the
room.

I hurt like hell. I looked down at my swollen belly and began to
cry. I had no idea it could be this bad. It had to be worse than
messing a diaper.

Pretty soon the contractions started. Some far off place in my
tortured brain figured it out. They wouldn't use just plain tap
water, there would be something in the solution to force my colon
to hard contractions. The spasms got worse and I was screaming
again. By now the bottle was empty so at least I had the
satisfaction of hearing my own protests. Each spasm also caused a
mini flood in my diapers and I was reminded of what else would
soon be filling my baby pants.

I was sobbing loudly and feeling pretty sorry for myself when
Moira strolled in. I couldn't bear to look at her, to give her
the satisfaction of seeing me in total defeat. All I could do was
turn my head away and after she got tired of walking around the
bed a few times she told me to smarten up or she would have my
head strapped into place.

After I had kept eye contact with her for a few seconds she
reached over and removed the bottle and its harness. It was
wonderful to have my mouth free again!

"I'm sorry." I blubbered, "I'll be good from now on. Please make
them stop it!"

It wasn't just a ploy. I was really begging for relief.

"You can't get out of it that easily, Sandy. What good would a
punishment be if we stopped it as soon as the prisoner repented.
No. It's important that you learn this lesson well. The nurses
will be back in about half an hour."

"Will they change me?" The old specter of messing myself was
still there. I had to know.

"I suspect so. Not right away, of course."

She paused to watch my face and read there my revulsion. "I'll
see you tomorrow."

After Moira left, the seconds seemed to drag. The spasms were
getting worse again. My body was insulted at the liquid invasion
and wanted the intruder to leave but the double balloons held
painfully tight. I began to sob again.

When they finally did come to take care of me, I wasn't sure
which was going to be worse, being full of fluid or expel-ling it
and a lot more. I knew that I didn't have a choice and I was
going to find from personal experience.

They reached between my legs. Suddenly the inner bulb was
deflating. They pulled it out while it was still pretty big and
after rearranging my diaper crotch and panties, stood back to
admire their handiwork.

It didn't take long. The next spasm made me explode. I cried out
with the relief of it. For the next few minutes I lived to expel.
It was all I could think of and all I cared about. When I was
finally empty I came down to earth and realized how full my
diapers were.

It wasn't really all that bad, I thought. Then each nurse began
loosening one of the canvass straps that held my ankles high.
They deliberately lowered my legs slowly. Each degree of the
change of angle made the cesspool in my diapers shift and spread.
Slowly the sticky mess oozed out from between my legs and into
the clean and almost dry parts of the diaper. It made me start to
cry.

"Please, please don't," I begged them through my tears.

They were enjoying themselves too much to pay attention to me.
When my legs were back on the bed, they watch with stone faces
while I cried and pleaded with them. Then they left me alone,
more alone than I'd ever been before.

The enema did a lot to kill my spirits. I felt my self-confidence
draining away as surely as my water flowed into the ever present
diapers. With no one to talk to besides Moira, I noticed that I
began to speak more softly, more reverently. Moira controlled my
comfort. I realized that deep inside and no matter how much I
hated what she was doing to me, I had to please her.

By the time the fourth day rolled around, I had begun to define
my world by the condition of my diapers. My crotch was one of the
few areas of my body that I could feel and whatever I felt there
became pretty important.

Most people divide up their day around meal times. I started
thinking of the day in terms of diaper changes. I looked forward
to them for more reasons than just plain comfort. There was the
sponge bath that went with it and the careful attention to my
shaven pubis. I was starving for sexual contact and my box had
become very sensitive to even the slightest touch, so when they
wiped me there or rubbed in powder I just about swooned. I had
come to understand why my pubic hair had been shaved. The feel of
a fresh, clean diaper rubbing up against my soft sex lips was
almost more than I could bear, especially if the nurse tightened
the diaper more than usual.

I messed myself daily but tried to do it just before the diaper
change at noon. That way, I would not stay in the messy pants
very long. I did it also because I couldn't stand the thought of
another enema, not because I ever got used to the filling my own
diaper. Even then, it was hard work. The body isn't designed to
relieve itself when laying flat on the back. My buttocks were
always partly pressed together and this made the whole operation
that much worse to clean up. I found out later that cleaning me
up was a punishment for the nurses.

On the fifth day Moira told me I was to be released into her
custody later that day. First the casts would have to come off
and a few other "procedures" performed. I didn't like the sound
of the last part but the idea of having my limbs back under
control was wonderful.

As soon as Moira left, the nurses came in, removed my plastic
pants and diapers but left a pile of disposable absorbent pads
under me. Then they departed, leaving me with my crotch fully
exposed and that made me nervous. I sensed I wasn't going to like
this one little bit.

Moira came back with a cute little beautician who carried a
suspicious looking black case. She couldn't have been more than
18 and she stopped cold when she saw me.

"Oh my God!" she gasped, and turned to Moira. "You can't mean
it."

"Indeed we do. Now, just think about that bonus I promised you
and get to work. Your customer is incapable of giving you any
trouble. It may get a little wet but we'll give you rubber
gloves."

The beautician took another look at me. I gazed back, too
embarrassed and curious to say anything. I could see the doubt
written across her face. I decided that she was going to need
some help if I was ever going to get out of this place.

"It's OK," I said, trying to sound reassuring, "I'll try not to
pee on you but, as you know, I can't help myself very much
there."

She came up to the bed and put her case down on the mobile table.
I was curious as hell to know what she was up to and yet part of
me didn't really want to know at all. I kept telling myself that,
whatever it was, it was also part of my ticket out of there.

After she opened the case and I saw the electrolysis equip-maned
I lost control and went nuts. I started cursing them both and
struggling against the casts.

It turned out that I should have kept control of myself. Moira
called in the two apes who shoved a feeding gag in my mouth and
then gave me a shot to quiet me down. It did that, all right, but
did nothing for the pain as this little kid of a girl started
zapping my pubic hairs, one by one.

I heard myself give a little grunt of pain every time the
electric needle touched me. It wasn't that each touch was that
bad, it was the number of times she had to touch me. She left in
her wake a carpet of soreness that had my eyes watering in a few
minutes.

The beautician stopped and looked up at Moira.

"I can't do this any more. I'm hurting her and it will only get
worse when I get to the wet parts."

Moira had been watching the whole thing with a big smile.

"Don't you worry yourself about that, honey. This bitch is a
prisoner and what you're doing is part of her punishment. She
agreed to this rather than go to prison. Keep going. The law is
on your side."

She went back to work and I went back to suffering. By the end of
it, I had quietly vowed revenge on Moira. Just give me one good
chance.

By the time she finished, my entire crotch felt hot and sore. The
kid left, looking shaken. Then the apes came back with a couple
of adult disposable diapers and a pair of plastic panties that
didn't have snaps. They looked just like real baby pants. They
slit the plastic backing of one of the diapers and put it inside
the other diaper before bundling me up. It was a good thing I was
still gagged, the touch of the diaper on my swollen and sore
pubis made me scream against the rubber thing in my mouth.

Then they brought in a young guy who leered at my bare breasts
and stared at my diapered loins a lot while he cut the casts. As
soon as each cast was off, Moira released the weight on that
limb. I tried moving my arms and legs. After five days of forced
immobility, they were stiff and weak but it felt delicious to
have my body back.

Moira helped me up from the bed. My legs were very unsteady and I
leaned on her while we took a few steps. It was the first time I
had walked while diapered. The bulk between my legs rubbed
against my tortured pubis and I started to cry from the pain but
it was still wonderful to be out of that bed.

One of the nurses came in and gave me a shot of Adrenalin. That
helped a lot. Then Moira got my clothes.

I looked at the blouse and mini skirt I had been wearing the day
all this started. They looked as if they belonged to someone
else. By now I knew that my hooking days were over, at least for
as long as ASP had control of me.

"Your mini skirt won't fit over the diapers," Moira said while I
buttoned the blouse with shaky fingers, "so I brought you a
larger one."

It turned out to be one of those vinyl types that are sup-posed
to look like leather. I hated it on sight but was in no mood for
a fight. I just nodded and picked up my pantyhose. Moira pulled
them from my hands.

"You can forget pantyhose as long as you're in diapers. The nylon
slides down on the plastic panties. We'll get you some garter
belts later."

I stepped into the skirt and pulled it up. Moira had guessed the
size right but it pressed the diapers closer to my body, another
constant reminder of my condition. I took a few steps. Both the
disposable diapers and the plastic panties crackled loudly with
each movement. It shook me up.

"Moira, I can't go out in public like this! Anybody who gets
within 10 feet will guess what I'm wearing!"

She gave me one of her special smiles, "That's not my problem,
Sandy."

I put on my black spike pumps and tried to get used to the
height. I was still pretty weak and it took me a while to get the
hang of it. Moira sat on the bed and looked at me as if I was a
thoroughbred colt taking her first steps.

"Let's go," she said finally.

With a pounding heart, dry throat and burning crotch I took my
first steps into the outside world as a diapered adult, a
babypants prisoner. -

Chapter Two

As soon as we got home from the State Mental Hospital, Moira
showed me my room. It had been her daughter's and looked it.
Frilly bedspread and drapes, "cutsy" wall paper, you know the
look. The only thing out of place was the chrome chain that ran
from the brass head board half way down the bed.

"So your daughter's finally off the leash?"

I was feeling a lot better but as soon as I said the words I
remembered that this woman controlled my comfort. Teasing her
might not be healthy.

Moira fired me a sharp look. "That little attachment was added
just for you, dear. Thank you for reminding me about it. We've a
little ceremony to go through. Please pull your blouse up."

I mentally kicked myself. I had learned by now that when-ever
Moira used a euphemism, I wasn't going to like whatever it was. I
did as I was told and stood there with my navel and the top of my
plastic panties exposed while she fished around in a drawer.

She held up a white belt and before I could say or do any-thing
she put it around my waist. I heard a lock click shut. Taken by
surprise, I looked down. It was made of what looked like thick
white plastic. It was about two inches wide and fits just snugly
between my rib cage and my hips. It had a strange looking flat
lock that didn't seem to have a key hole, and a small ring was
mounted beside it. I looked up at Moira. This time I really
didn't understand.

"What's all this about?"

By way of an answer, Moira pushed me forward a few feet and then
grabbed the chain off the bed. The lock on its end was open. It
only took her a second to put it through the ring on my belt and
snap it closed. So, it really was a leash. Lucky me.

"See how smart you are."

Moira grinned at me. I tried not to give her the satisfaction of
seeing the panic I felt inside.

"Let me save you some time and trouble. There are steel wires
embedded in the plastic so you can't cut it off. If I catch you
trying, I'll make sure you regret if for a long time."

"Fine. So what's it for, anyway."

I had my guesses but I wanted to know.

Moira paced a circle around me, dragging her finger along the
smooth surface of the belt. It un-nerved me.

"You'll wear this for the duration of your sentence. It has
several unique features. It can be used to keep you in one place,
if I desire. It contains a homing device so we can find you if
you wander off, and it does something else you should know
about."

I watched her take what looked like a remote control unit for a
TV out of her purse. She keyed in a four digit number I felt a
slight electric shock and suddenly I started to mess myself
uncontrollably.

I groaned out loud and fell to my knees, grabbing the bed for
support while the horrible process took it's course. No matter
how much I tried I was helpless to stop or slow it down. It was
as if my bowels didn't belong to me anymore. I could feel the
diapers filling, the hot, mushy and smelly shit that I knew she
would make me clean up.

When it was finally over, I found myself kneeling on the floor,
half draped over the bed and trying to catch my breath. My
diapers felt full and I felt very dirty. Suddenly I remembered a
time when I was a little girl and had messed myself by accident
one day while playing outside. My dress was ruined. My mother was
furious and threw my panties in the garbage. Then she pinned a
towel on me as a makeshift diaper and sent me back out-side to
play. It had been humiliating then but not like this. Moira could
make me mess myself anytime she wanted.

I wanted to curse her but by then I knew better. I looked up at
her expecting her satisfied smile and wasn't disappointed.

"That," I gasped, "is very effective. How do you manage it."

"That's not the point, dear. We use it to manage you."

She strolled over to the closet doors and opened them with a
flourish.

"Since you are now in desperate need of a diaper change, I'll
show you where the supplies are kept so you can attend to
yourself."

I turned around, still kneeling but careful not to put any weight
on my bulging rear. The closet had been divided into two
sections, one full of my clothes and the other fitted out with
shelves that held cloth and disposable adult diapers, plastic
panties of every description and a lot of other stuff a babypants
prisoner would need.

"Chose your diapers carefully. You'll be responsible for washing
all the cloth ones and keeping them in good repair. Thanks to the
generosity of the manufacturers, you have an infinite supply of
disposables but, before you start using too many of them, let me
tell you that one of their conditions is that you must pick up
replacements in person and discuss with them just how well their
products do or don't work."

The odor from my diaper was beginning to fill the room. Moira
wrinkled her nose.

"Well, then, I'll let you get at it. When you're ready, come to
the living room wearing just your diapers and plastic pants," she
paused and winked, "and, of course, the belt."

She unlocked the chain from my belt.

"The bathroom is down the hall to the left."

Without another word or glance she left me alone, confident of
her ownership of me.

I stood up, kicked off my shoes, and went over to the closet. I
had never seen an adult disposable diaper before my trip to the
hospital and now there were stacks of them, all meant for me. I
picked up a couple of different models and then remembered the
crackling sounds they made. Since there was little chance I would
mess again that day I put them back. There was something ominous
and terrifying about having to sit down in front of some nice
young man and tell him all about what it's like to wear one of
his diapers.

The cloth diapers were very thick in the crotch. Some even had
what felt like sponge pads sewn in. More pee arrived in my
diapers as I stood there. I was going to need all the absorbency
I could get. I shuddered at the thought of all that padding
rubbing against my sore twat but it couldn't be helped. I threw
one of the thicker ones onto the bed and looked at the plastic
panties.

At the hospital, they had used the snap kind because of the
casts. They had leaked a lot so I reached for the normal kind and
was surprised to see the Gerber label. I grabbed a couple of
extra large diaper pins, some powder and lotion and added them to
the pile on the bed before I went to find the bathroom.

I closed the door to the bathroom and enjoyed the first bit of
privacy in a week. It was wonderful to be alone, even if there
was dirty work to be done. I took off the blouse, unzipped the
vinyl mini skirt and tossed them both in a corner. I looked at my
reflection in the mirror, naked but for that damned belt and my
diapers. I told myself I had best get used to the sight and began
to peel down the plastic panties.

When a lot of pee began to leak out, I decided to stand in the
tub. It turned out to be a good idea. My diapers had long since
reached the saturation point. A cascade of pee hit the tub as the
panties came down.

Without the skirt and the panties to hold them up, my diapers
hung heavy on my hips and dangled between my legs. The smell now
was almost unbearable. I held my breath and pushed down on the
waist of the diapers. They suddenly fell to the floor of the tub
with a thud. I looked down at the mess that had oozed out of me
and was almost sick on the spot. Somehow I managed to roll the
disposables into a self-contained ball and put it on the floor
outside the tub. Then I turned on the water and tried to forget
it all.

The warm water and the freedom to move as I liked was wonderful.
I washed my hair, for the first time in a week, and cleaned up my
rear end. My pubis was still very sore from the electrolysis. I
soaped it gently, not believing that it would be forever as bare
as a girl's.

As I stood in the tub drying my hair, another rush of pee escaped
and splattered noisily in the tub. A shadow fell over my restored
spirits; from now on I was going to have to bring fresh diapers
with me. I held a towel to my sore and puffy pubis on the way
back to my room.

I guess it was the sight of all that baby stuff on the bed that
really got to me. I stood stock still in the middle of the room
and stared at it. Even when I had picked it all, I hadn't really
accepted that I was going to have to pin myself into a diaper and
pull on a pair of plastic panties.

I could feel more pee arriving in the towel. I wanted to run but
there was no place to run to. The fact of the matter was that I
leaked pee like sieve and Moira could make me mess myself anytime
she wanted. There was no choice in the matter, I had to wear
diapers from now on. The belt would make sure I couldn't hide
anywhere either.

My spirits sank. I felt tears form in my eyes. I spread the towel
out on the floor near the bed and stood on it. Then, with
trembling hands, I began to arrange my diaper.

It was all so strange, so awkward. I had diapered a lot of kids
while baby-sitting but, of course, had never pinned one on
myself. I lay on the bed on top of the diaper and started to pin
it. Then I remembered the powder and lotion. After applying them,
I had to start all over again. By, then I was in tears from the
shame of it all and I had a hard time getting the diaper to fit
properly. Finally, I grabbed the plastic pants, figured out which
way was the front and put my feet through the leg holes while
still lying down. I lifted my hips to pull them into place. Out
of habit from my baby-sitting days, I checked to make sure that
all the cloth was tucked inside the panties and then stood up.

The pressure on my poor pubis was almost unbearable. I gasped
with the pain and then started to cry even more from that. I took
a few steps and discovered that only by waddling like a toddler
could I move without killing myself.

I knew I couldn't face Moira right away and give her the
satisfaction of seeing me so defeated. To kill time, I put the
powder and lotion back in the closet and took the towel back to
the bathroom.

My dirty diapers were still there, waiting for me. I remembered
seeing some plastic bags in the closet so I carefully picked up
the rolled diaper, grabbed my clothes and went back to my room.
At least, I thought, I won't get into trouble for leaving the
bathroom in a mess. There was nothing left to do now but report
to Moira.

"Ah, good!" she said from her chair as I waddled into the living
room.

Both physically and emotionally I felt as if I was five years old
again, having been put into diapers as a punishment for messing
myself. Moira seemed to be able to read me like a book.

"Are we feeling more comfy now that we're in a nice, clean, dry
diaper?"

I hated the childish tone. She was pushing more psychological
buttons than she knew. I just nodded and waited for her to launch
into the next act of the Punishment of Sandy. I wasn't looking
forward to it at all.

"Good. I want you to come over here and kneel down."

I did as I was told.

"That's good. Now, sit back on your heels."

I did that too. Fortunately the position was comfortable. At
least it took the pressure off my crotch.

Moira smiled down at me. I was the errant child being lectured to
be a parent. She spoke to me as if I were a child.

"I will go over the rules with you once and only once. After
today, any infractions will be punished. Do you understand?"

I nodded and she continued.

"Until the winter comes you will dress only in your diapers and
plastic panties when in this house. This is so that I can check
the condition of your diaper at any time and to remind you that
you are, after all, undergoing punishment under the law."

"You are not to sit on the furniture without permission. If you
stain or soil the furniture you are to report it to me instantly
or be punished more severely for waiting. You are not to speak
unless spoken to. You will do what you are told, when you are
told and without complaint, no matter how embarrassing or
uncomfortable you feel about it."

I nodded again, but my heart was sinking fast. It was going to be
a long year.

"Masturbation is forbidden. If I catch you abusing yourself or
even suspect it, you will be very sorry indeed. I have several
chastity belts and won't be reluctant to use them."

I had only ever seen pictures of chastity belts but the thought
of even the gentlest of them rubbing against my injured groin was
enough to make me cringe.

"From time to time there will be visitors. You will obey them as
you would me."

She stared down at me.

I wet my diaper copiously.

"Do you understand these rules?"

I nodded but she obviously wanted to hear me say it.

"Yes, Moira, I understand."

"Very good. Now come with me and I will instruct you how to
dress."

We went to my room and she opened the side of the closet that
held my clothes.

"I want you to continue to take care of your appearance and be
sexually attractive to men at all times. You will wear make-up
and perfume every day. Most of these clothes are acceptable, if
they'll still fit over your diapers. We will go shopping tomorrow
to replace anything that is now too small for you."

She crossed to the dresser and opened a drawer. It contained all
my garter belts and some hosiery but no panties or bras.

"You will wear a garter belt and seamed stockings whenever you
are outside this house and I'll warn you right now to keep your
seams straight. As I told you in the hospital, pantyhose are out
of the question and panties are just plain irrelevant."

I began to get the drift. A quick glance at the open closet
confirmed it. All of my low heeled shoes were missing, only the
painfully high spikes remained. Moira wanted to make sure that I
attracted much attention, eyes that would look me over and maybe
guess that there was something funny about the shape of my hips
or the crackling sound when I moved. It wasn't enough for her to
force me back into diapers. She wanted the threat of exposure to
hang over my head like a sword. Then there's the control belt. I
imagined her hitting the buttons while we were in a crowded
shopping mall and trembled with dread.

"I'll leave you alone now to put on some make-up and do your
nails. Remember the rules, especially about touching your-self."

With that she was gone, leaving me to stare at the pile of
stockings and the tangled web of garter belts.

I found my make-up in one of the dresser drawers. I didn't feel
feminine or attractive so it was hard to take any interest in
what I was doing. They had removed my nail polish in the hospital
so it didn't take me long to do my hands and feet. I sat on the
bed in my now soggy diaper and listened to the gentle rushing
sound me wetting myself as helplessly as an infant.

I was feeling pretty low. As I ran over the rules Moira spelled
out I wondered if my bed counted as furniture. Just to be sure, I
got down onto the floor and sat cross-legged while the polish
dried. I looked down at the translucent plastic panties and the
cloth diaper underneath. So far it was doing a good job but I
would need a changing soon and I wondered what the rules were
about that. It was going to be hard to find out if I wasn't
allowed to speak without permission.

By the time I found Moira again she had prepared dinner. We ate
in silence. She sat at the table and I had mine while kneeling on
the floor. It was hard not to react when she ordered me to drink
four glasses of water.

After dinner, I knew my diaper had reached its limit. I tried to
attract Moira's attention so I could ask permission but she
didn't notice me. I quietly waddled off to my room and laid out
another cloth diaper and a fresh pair of plastic pants.

It was a little easier this time. I found a plasticized changing
pad in the cupboard and got everything ready before I started.
Off with the plastic pants, unpin the diaper, toss it into the
waiting diaper pail, slide the fresh diaper underneath, powder,
lotion, do the pinning and pull on clean plastic pants. Try not
to spill the powder and don't pin it too tight. A routine, but
not one I welcomed at all.

She was watching TV in the den. I kneeled down on the floor in
what I thought of as "the position" and tried to ignore the fact
that I was constantly dribbling into my diaper. Moira ignored me
for the most part. When she got herself a beer from the kitchen
she brought me one too. I didn't want it but since I hadn't been
spoken too, there was no way I could politely refuse.

After the late news, Moira turned off the TV.

"Time for bed, Babypants. I suggest you change your diaper. It
could be a long night."

I mutely padded off to my room while wondering why I couldn't
change my diaper during the night if necessary.

Moira stood in the door, watching. I hated having her eyes on me
while I performed my humiliating little ritual. When she saw that
I had chosen another cloth diaper she spoke.

"I suggest you line that with a disposable. Puncture the plastic
backing if you want to increase the absorbency. If you mess a
cloth diaper the cleanup won't be pleasant."

I thought of the mess in the bathroom a few hours ago and
shuddered. I did as she suggested. While I was laying out the
diapers I heard her open one of the dresser drawers; somehow I
just couldn't bear to look at whatever she was getting ready to
do to me.

I avoided looking at her while I lay on the changing pad but my
legs were facing her and it bothered me to be so exposed to her.
When the disposable was taped and the cloth diaper pinned over
it, I pulled on an extra large pair of incontinence pants and
stood up. She was holding something out of my sight. I cleaned up
the supplies and then turned down the bed. I had to move the
chain to do it and I hated having to touch it.

"You've learned quickly. That diaper will do the night, I'm sure.
Now give me your hands."

I offered my hands as she tossed one leather mitten on the bed
and began to fit the other one to me. I had seen these before.
The hand is encased inside rigid leather or nylon, making the
wearer helpless. You can't grasp anything with these things on,
nor can you make a fist. Now I understood why she wanted me
night-diapered. There would be no diaper changes until the
morning. As I watched her fasten the little buckles I prayed she
would leave the damned belt controller alone. I just couldn't
stand the thought of being forced to sleep in my own mess.

When the mittens were fastened to her satisfaction, she locked
the chain to the ring on my belt.

"We can't have you getting into trouble, now can we?"

I didn't say anything.

She told me to sit on the edge of the bed. There was one last
"appliance" that had to be fitted. It turned out to be what we
call in the "S&M" trade, a spreader bar. In this case, a piece of
round wood about two feet long with cuffs attached to each end.
This, Moira told me with obvious delight, would pre-vent me from
squeezing my thighs together for pleasure. If she had any idea
how badly my twat still hurt she could have saved herself the
trouble.

She locked the cuffs and helped me swing my bound legs onto the
bed. Then she pulled the covers up. As I shifted for com-fort, I
felt a plastic mattress cover on the bed.

"There," she said, "we're all ready for the night. The chain and
the spreader bar will make sure you don't wander off and the
mittens will keep your hands out of trouble. Any last requests?"

"No, Moira. You've taken care of everything."

Despite my best efforts my tone was sarcastic. I regretted it
immediately. Moira's face hardened.

"Be careful, Sandy. I'll let you off this time but if I hear that
tone again I might just press some buttons."

Our eyes locked for a few long seconds.

"I'm sorry, Moira. I didn't mean it. Please don't do that."

My voice was soft but my pleas were real.

"Very well, then, but I think a small reminder is still in
order."

She took a small dildo from one of the drawers. It had a
retaining harness. She held it up where I could see it clearly.

"Your punishment will be to wear this for four hours tomorrow.
You may choose when the four hours start. Remember to come and
ask politely to have it inserted. If you ask nicely enough I may
even let you use a little lubricant. Good night, dear."

As I said before, Moira would make a good intelligence officer.
As I lay there trying to get comfortable all I could think of was
having to go to her and ask her to strap that damned thing in my
rear and then thank her for it! The more I thought about it the
more depressed I got. Finally I started to cry. It was hell, not
being able to wipe my own eyes.

I did finally get some sleep. It was almost noon when Moira came
in to release me. By then all the fluids from the night before
had arrived in my diapers but there were no leaks. She was all
dressed up and I wondered what was planned. No clues were
forthcoming while she unlocked the spreader bar and removed my
mittens. She unlocked the chain from my belt and told me to
shower, change my diaper, put on make-up and be ready for her to
supervise my dressing in ten minutes.

Groggy from sleep and stiff from being bound all night, I at
least had the presence of mind to grab a fresh diaper from the
closet before stumbling to the bathroom.

The shower revived me. I got rid of yesterday's make-up and tried
not to get my hair wet, to save time. As soon as I was towelled
off, I pinned on the cloth diaper, grabbed my night diapers and
ran back to my room.

I re-fastened the diaper, put on a pair of plastic panties and
did a fast job on my face. I was just dabbing on the perfume when
she walked in with the air of a sergeant-major. As I put the
perfume bottle back on the dresser, I saw the dildo and harness
again. I wondered when I would be able to work up the courage to
cope with that.

"We will be shopping today, dear. Your wardrobe needs a few
additions."

Moira went to the closet and tossed out my red silk blouse and a
black A-line skirt that came well above the knee. I gulped. The
blouse was OK but I had never worn a garter belt under that skirt
because my stocking tops showed through the rear slit. Since I
hadn't been spoken to, I couldn't object without risking a
punishment. I decided that showing a little stocking wasn't as
bad as what Moira could hand out.

I took too long to think about all this. Moira grabbed a garter
belt and a new pair of stockings, still in the package, and
handed them to me. She leaned against the door frame while I
struggled with the belt. Once I got it on over my plastic
panties, I discovered that all the garters would have to be
lengthened to allow for the bulge of my diaper. Moira looked on
with amusement.

"Hurry, now, dear. You don't want me to assign you another
punishment for tardiness, now do you?"

Finally the belt was on and I sat on the floor to work on the
stockings. They were black and had the reinforced heels that make
some men slobber. I would be a sight, alright, especially in the
four inch, black spike pumps that Moira was holding.

Once I had the stockings on and fastened, I stood up and
immediately felt another little rush of hot pee arrive in my
diaper. I let out a little gasp and Moira noticed.

"Wet yourself again, Sandy? You'd better get used to it."

I looked up at her with the most blank face I could muster. I
hated the pressure she had me under.

It took a few minutes before I got my seams straight. Having
Moira stare at me didn't help my concentration. Every so often I
stole a glance at the waiting dildo and it's harness. It didn't
look as big as some I had seen. Perversely, I wondered how it
would feel to have that locked inside me for four hours.

The skirt barely fit over the diapers and gave me bulges in all
the wrong places. A chill ran down my spine as I looked in
mirror. Surely everyone would guess my secret with just one
glance. The fear of discovery made me gasp. Moira cleared her
throat as a warning.

I took the shoes from Moira and slipped them on. It felt so
strange to feel so sexy in one sense and so bound up in another.
Except for the bulges, I knew I looked good from the outside but
the tight bulk of the wet diaper between my legs and the heat
generated by the plastic panties dampened any vanity. I still
felt a lot like a punished little girl who had to be very careful
not to make her mother any more angry than she already was.

Moira inspected me and even made me turn around so she could
judge my seams. It was worse than being busted. She even made me
take a few steps.

"You'll be happy to know that the tops of your stockings just
show through the slit in your skirt" she said lightly.

I blushed by way of response.

I looked for my purse but couldn't see it. Moira was fishing
around in the torture closet and produced a large, pink diaper
bag with "My Diaper Bag" stenciled on the side. She tossed it to
me with a sadistic grin.

"Consider that your purse from now on. Take some make-up if you
want. You'd better pack some supplies. We could be out for quite
a while."

She watched the look of horror on my face for a few seconds and
then slipped out the door. From down the hall I heard her voice
again, "Don't forget your little toy on the dresser!"

It was almost more than I could bear. I felt tears form in my
eyes while I stared into the diaper bag and then looked at the
dildo and its harness. I couldn't cry or it would mean another
make-up job, and a delay, and that might mean another punishment.
I sniffled back my tears and tried to think about what I might
need for a diaper change in a public washroom.

As I jammed cloth and disposable diapers, plastic pants, pins,
powder and lotion into the bag, I suddenly realized how much I
had come to think in terms of avoiding a punishment, even though
I had yet to experience my first one!

By the time I was finished the bag was bulging. Just as well, I
thought, the diaper I was wearing was about half done. The
lettering was on both sides of the bag. It would be a lightning
rod for attracting attention to me, encouraging everybody to
stare just a little bit harder to see if their suspicions were
right, that this sexy lady was in diapers. I picked up the dildo
and shoved it deep inside the bag. I hated to touch it. I tried
to close the bag and hide its embarrassing contents but the
zip-per had been carefully removed. I marvelled at how Moira
seemed to think of everything.

Just before I went to find Moira, I dabbed on some more perfume.
It created a strange contrast with the smell of baby powder that
drifted up from the diaper bag.

Moira had prepared a light breakfast. I just managed to stop
myself from sitting at the table. I took my food and a large cup
of coffee and slipped out of my pumps before kneeling on the
floor. Moira cleared her throat and pointed to the shoes. I sadly
guessed her meaning and stepped into them again before kneeling.
For once I was glad for my diaper since it helped pad my bottom
from the sharp heels that dug into it. There was no help for my
feet, who protested painfully at being made to kneel in high
heels. Moira wouldn't let me up until I had drained four cups of
coffee. The last one was the hardest. My eyes were locked with
hers while the last ounces went down my throat on the way to my
diaper. I could see in her eyes Moira's determination to make me
suffer as much as possible.

My worse fears about attracting attention were confirmed as soon
as we set foot inside the mall. I was in the wrong colors and
definitely over dressed for a hot summer day. Moira, on the other
hand, looked cool and efficient in a light summer dress, no
hosiery and low heels.

So it was I who got the hungry stares from the men, you know, the
casual turning of the head as you pass. There were also a couple
of more observant ones who took one look at the diaper bag,
another at me and suddenly decided to follow us.

As I walked along I could feel the bulk of the diaper rubbing
between my legs. It was getting heavier by the minute as my pee
leaked into it. The plastic panties rustled and crackled and I
was terrified that someone would pass by close enough to hear
them. All this had distracted me from where Moira was taking me,
one look at the lingerie store snapped me back to reality.

"Come, dear," she said sweetly, as if I were her niece, "We must
improve your foundations wardrobe."

I felt my face blanch and my throat go dry. I knew this store
well, especially it's oversized changing rooms and the attentive
staff that often came in with you to check the fitting. Normally
I didn't mind it but then I wasn't in diapers either. My mouth
moved to make words but no sound came out. Then Moira grabbed one
of my wrists and physically pulled me into the store.

Fifteen minutes later we were in one of those change rooms. Moira
had gathered up a couple of lace up corsets and some garter
belts. She had engaged the attention of pert young sales clerk
who had made a point of staring at me as soon as she saw the
diaper bag.

"Strip down to your hosiery dear." Moira said sweetly.

Anyone overhearing her would never guess the evil in her
intentions. I felt my hands begin to tremble. A rush of pee
flooded into my diaper and I felt a drop or two run down my inner
thigh and soak the top of my stocking. I looked at her, terrified
of the sales clerk coming in. I shook my head, making my eyes do
the pleading that was forbidden from my voice.

"You may speak," she said softly, finally.

"Please don't make me do this!" I whispered, trying to sound
respectful and contrite at the same time.

"Do what? dear. I simply don't understand."

Another rush of water hit the diaper and this time there was more
leaking. I grabbed my abdomen, though it was a futile gesture.

"I'm leaking," I whined and felt more than ever like a little
girl. "I have to change, but please, please, don't let the girl
come in!"

I was almost sobbing with fear and shame but Moira didn't react
at all.

"Then change yourself, dear."

My leaking was getting worse. Soon there would be dark streaks
down my stockings and I hadn't brought another pair. I took a
deep breath and began to fumble with the tiny buttons on my
blouse. I was breathing heavily, trying not to sob out loud. Just
then the sales girl came in with another corset.

"This is the heaviest boning we carry, Madam," she said and
handed it to Moira. Then she looked at me. "Is she alright? Is
there anything I can do?"

"No, thank you," Moira, said with artificial sadness. "She has a
little medical problem but we're about to take care of it. Would
you please bring us some garters for this corset?"

The girl had caught sight of the open diaper bag and its
contents. I felt her staring at me just as I happened to look
down and see two dark little drops on the carpet between my feet.
I could have died right then. The girl mumbled something and then
disappeared.

Somehow I managed to get my blouse off, but my hands were
trembling too badly to manage the button at the back of the
skirt. Moira had to unfasten it for me.

"You'd better make this a fast diaper change if you want to be
covered by the time she comes back."

I let the skirt drop to the floor and stepped out of it. Then I
fumbled with the garter belt until it too was loose. There I
stood, in diapers, see-through plastic panties, seamed stockings
and high heels when the sales clerk strolled right in.

We both gave little gasps, me from embarrassment and her from
surprise. Stunned, we seemed to stare at each other for a few
seconds. Then Moira calmly took the garters from the girl's
outstretched hand.

"Thank you, dear. This is the medical problem I mentioned. This
woman has been rendered incontinent by court order. She has no
control of her urine, as you can see. Right now she is in the
middle of a diaper change."

The girl looked down into the diaper bag and then back at me. My
faced felt hot and flushed and I was transfixed by terror,
frozen. The girl began to back out of the room with her mouth
hanging open. Moira's voice broke the spell.

"Would you mind bringing us a plastic bag for her wet diaper?
Since it's her first day in public I'm sure she's forgot-ten to
bring one."

The only sign that the girl had heard was a slow nodding of the
head. Then she fled and soon I could hear excited voices talking
about me.

"Look what you've done!"

I blurted out and instantly was sorry for it. Moira's face showed
a flash of smile and then took on that stern facade that I had
already equated with trouble.

"Get on with it!" she hissed. "It's a good thing we brought your
little toy along. You can cope with it for six hours -- starting
now!"

I gulped and sobbed but Moira had succeeded in breaking my
trance. I mechanically began to spread out a thick cloth diaper
and a disposable on the floor. Tears ran down my cheeks and
disappeared into the waiting absorbent padding. I didn't care
about my make-up any more. Moira had taken the dildo out of the
bag and was untangling its harness. My rosebud tensed up in fear
of its impending violation.

I peeled down my plastic panties and carefully unpinned the
diaper. Just when I was about to lie down on the new diapers
Moira whispered that I was to kneel on all fours.

It must surely be the most humiliating position there is. I did
as she asked, presenting my bottom high in the air, ready for its
punishment. I watched her shoes pace around until she was in
front of me. The black plastic intruded was presented to my lips.

"Lick it!" she hissed, "Or do you want me to put it in dry?"

I closed my eyes and licked.

Suddenly she pulled it away and went around behind me again. I
was choking with fear of what it would feel like and the thought
that the sales girl could walk in at any moment with the plastic
bag, knowing full well what it was for.

The seconds dragged by. I dared not turn and look. I stared at
the carpet. A faint whiff of stale pee came to me from the wet
diaper. Then I felt it, a gentle pressure at first but then
opening me, forcing me apart. I remembered that the dildo had a
bulge near the tip that was wider than the shaft. I bit my lip
and tried to keep myself loose back there but fear made me want
to tighten up. Deeper and deeper it came, parting me more widely
that I had ever been before. I gasped and sobbed but Moira took
no notice. I imagined its progress and prayed for the bulge to
pass soon.

Finally I felt the worst was over. There was only the thick,
black shaft to distend my virgin rose bud. It was not as
uncomfortable now but the device's steady progress reminded me
with every fraction of an inch that I was being violated. It was
all I could do to hold still while this slow careful rape was
being perpetrated on my body.

When I felt Moira fumble with the harness a great rush of breath
came out of me. I felt weak, dirty and shamed. The invader was
stuck inside me like a finger pointing to my sins. Moira
tightened the harness slowly, making sure I was away of every
strap and every buckle.

Finally I was told that I could diaper myself. I hated the very
words but I silently obeyed. As I positioned myself, I felt the
intruder shift a little. It couldn't be ignored. Every little
movement reminded me of its presence. I added a little powder and
brought the disposable into position. Finally, I got the cloth
outer diaper pinned. I had just pulled my fresh plastic panties
into place when the clerk came back with the bag. Silently she
handed it to me and then watched while I put the wet diaper in it
and began to fumble with my garter belt.

"Put her into this corset and come for me when she's ready,"
Moira said with authority and left.

She had chosen her words carefully, the suggested meaning
registered on the girl's face.

The girl loosened the laces and I lifted my arms while she
wrapped the heavily boned garment around my body. Then she
started the slow task of passing those thin strands through the
tiny eyelets.

"I'm Carole," she whispered.

I didn't want to talk but I whispered my name.

"It must be awful, I mean, about the diapers."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Is she mean to you?"

I nodded. It was better not to say anything Moira might overhear.

"She wants this tight, you know. Can you stand it? I can adjust
it so it looks tighter than it is."

"She would find out." I said in a choked voice.

"I like the seams."

"That's so I'll get more attention."

Carole knew her stuff when it came to lacing corsets. She pulled
and tugged, starting at the bottom, which gave her ample
opportunity to brush my plastic panties. Near the end I was
grunting every time she pulled hard. She attached the garters,
stepped back while I pulled up my stockings and then helped me
straighten the seams.

I felt so imprisoned, so bound. Worst of all was the hard plug in
my behind that moved with me, reminding me of Moira and her power
over me. I noticed that even the garters seemed unusually tight
when I took a few trial steps. It was hard to breathe. Carole
went to fetch Moira.

Moira did her inspection.

"Good!" she exclaimed. "Perfect. She'll wear it home. We'll take
the other corsets and the garter belts have you any stockings,
and I mean stockings, like the one's she's wearing?"

Carole nodded and Moira ordered six pairs.

I took my time getting ready to leave the change room. Miserable
as I was from the restricting corset, thick diapers and the
damned plug in my rear, I was more afraid of facing the sales
clerks who must surely have been told about me. I tried to repair
my make-up. Finally there was nothing left to do. I picked up my
diaper bag and felt my knees shake as I stepped back out into the
real world.

The only clerk not at the back of the store to get a good look at
me was the girl who had seen my diapers. She was at the cash with
Moira. The others stopped their conversation and stared at me. I
could feel their eyes searching me for some visible sign of what
they had been told. My lower lip began to tremble. I was close to
tears. I saw Moira watching me, smiling with the satisfaction of
torturing me with public exposure. Part of me wanted to scream
but the butt plug was a constant reminder to be good. Always be a
good little girl, Sandy. -

Chapter Three

I don't remember much else about that wicked trip to the shopping
mall. I didn't see or feel the world around me very much. I was
too absorbed in my own little world of babypants punishment. My
world was pain. The spike pumps hurt my feet but I wasn't allowed
to take them off for even a few minutes. The seamed stockings
felt nice but they had to be adjusted almost constantly. Moira
insisted I do this standing in the middle of the mall and in full
view of everybody. Of course, this drew male attention like flies
to honey. The garters were too taut for comfort and when one of
them would come undone, I had a hell of a time re-fastening it
without showing my plastic panties. The diapers were wet, smelly
and heavy. I had to walk with a waddle to accommodate the thick
bulk. They rubbed on my pussy and made it sore. The corset was
heavily boned and laced very tight. Rather than hide the bulge of
my diapers, it constricted my waist, making my padded hips look
even bigger. I t crushed my breasts and made it hard to breathe.
Then there was the butt plug strapped tightly into my virgin
rosebud, distending, stretching and reminding me of its presence
with every movement of my body. That was my world.

Moira didn't say or do much to me that night. I was allowed to
change my diapers when we got home and once again before bed,
when she finally removed the plug. I could see from the look on
her face that she had enjoyed the day tremendously.

"You haven't had a BM today, have you?" she asked wickedly as she
helped me move my legs, bound to the spreader bar, onto the bed.

I was in thick disposable night diapers, the mittens had been
fitted and I was locked onto my leash. All nice and comfy for a
good night's sleep. Suspicious of her tone, I didn't answer, I
just shook my head.

She began to pull the covers into place (always too many so I
would be hot and uncomfortable all night).

"I suggest you take care of that little chore during the night."
She paused to lock her eyes on mine, "Otherwise I'll have to push
a few buttons."

Despite my best efforts to keep my face blank I felt terror rise
into my throat. I remembered her face as she had watched me soil
myself uncontrollably. She would enjoy watching it again. Being
made to mess myself in bed, was almost as bad. I was being made
to do it to myself. It made it that much worse. She didn't say
anything else before she turned out the light and left me to
think about my chore for the night.

She was right, of course. I didn't feel empty. I could get it
over with anytime I wanted. The memories from being five years
old kept coming back. I just couldn't bring myself to make it
happen. My only hope was to wake up before Moira came for me in
the morning and do it right then. What if I fell asleep and was
still clean when Moira checked me? She would make the belt do the
job and probably punish me for trying to evade her.

My heart pounded and I felt a new set of tears form in my eyes.
She couldn't possibly know what she was asking. Yet, somehow, she
was finding all my weak spots.

I guess it was a sign of Moira's victory over me that I finally
gave in and began the horrible task of messing my diapers,
knowing full well it could be many hours before I was allowed a
chance to clean myself up.

I quickly discovered that it was going to be tough work. The
spreader bar, by keeping my legs apart, also made my rear cheeks
clench. It would have been a little easier if I could have pulled
my knees back toward my chest but this would knock off the covers
and my hands were useless when it came to putting them back. I
listened to my own desperate grunting. I couldn't get the image,
of what must be happening inside my plastic panties and diapers,
out of my mind. I pictured it all and felt tortured by it.

I strained against the ankle cuffs and arched my back. Finally it
happened and once it had started I couldn't stop myself. I felt
the diapers grow heavier as the warm mush piled up inside. I was
using my hands to keep my rear off the mat-tress. Once the job
was finished there was the horror of having to lie back down on
that pile of shit and feel it spread out into my diaper. I wanted
to delay this as long as possible but my arms were about to give
out. I had no choice. I gasped with dread as I felt my bottom
come into contact with my effluent, that warm, pudding-like
substance. I smelled the evidence of my shame for the first time.

I lay there for a few minutes, trying to ignore the feelings from
the rear of my diaper. It might have been a little better if I
could have turned onto my stomach but Moira's spreader bar took
care of that possibility. She was very efficient. I wondered how
long it had taken her to figure out this little routine. I cried
for a little while and then, to my surprise, fell asleep.

By the time Moira came for me in the morning, the smell in the
room was enough to tell her that I had been a good little girl
and messed my diapers as I had been told. The feeling of being
five years old came back as she released me from my many
restraints and congratulated me on "being good".

As soon as I stood up, I felt the load in my diaper shift and
immediately felt repulsed. I wanted a change very badly but,
predictably, Moira would have no talk of that until after
breakfast. I didn't know if I could eat with my own smell, not to
mention what it felt like to walk in soiled diapers.

When I sat back on my heels in the dining room the poo shifted
again. I must have gasped or something because Moira noticed.

"Not so comfy this morning, I take it?"

I decided it was time to be ultra cooperative.

"No, Moira. I've messed in my diapers."

"Well, I'm still upset about your behavior in the changing room
yesterday. I think you should wear those diapers until noon as a
reminder to behave yourself."

She went back to eating her breakfast for a minute and then
added.

"Oh, I have to go out for a while. You had better bring me one of
the diaper restraint belts from your dresser as soon as you are
finished."

Restraint belt? I had a flashback of Moira in the hospital.

I heard her voice again, "we can't have you fiddling with
yourself."

I began to tremble. It was unfair! I had done what was asked of
me. I had lain in a pile of my own shit all night without
complaint. Now there was something more. There was always
something more. I was trembling by the time I got up. It was hard
to walk toward my room, open the dresser drawers one-by-one until
I found the instrument of torture that had been prescribed for
me.

It was basically a chastity belt, but the part that ran between
the legs was wide and there were big, efficient locks. Moira was
still at the table when I brought it to her. She ignored me for a
few seconds while she finished her coffee. I was so scared and
miserable by then that the tears were streaming down my face and
it was all I could do not to sob. Finally she took the tangle of
leather straps from my hand and looked up at me.

"Come, come, Sandy. It's not all that bad, now."

I shook my head in mute argument. How could she know? How could
she guess what it would feel like to have that wide strap
tightened against the full seat of my diapers, pressing the mushy
and now itchy poo against my skin? Then I remembered my sore
pubis and the soaked diaper that would be pressed tight against
it, too. I started to cry in earnest.

There was no sympathy in Moira's eyes. She evaluated me coldly.

"If you don't shut up immediately I'll find a way to keep you
quiet, young lady!"

I was in trouble again and I knew it but I was beyond com-mon
sense by then.

"Please, Moira," I sobbed, "just let me get cleaned up. Then you
can punish me any way you want. I won't complain. I'll be good.
I'll do whatever you want. I just want to be clean again!"

She stood up. In her heels she was at least three inches taller
than me. I suddenly realized that I had gone too far. I was going
to get punished even worse.

"I'm sorry." I sputtered but I already knew it was too late.

Half an hour later I was crying for a far different reason. I was
still in my messed diapers and the restraint belt was snug and
locked but that wasn't the worst part.

Moira had taken me to the basement where she had one of those
treadmill walking machines. You have to keep walking or the
conveyer belt carries you off the platform. Except, I wasn't
going to let that happen, at least if I wanted to keep my
nipples. You see, Moira had produced a pair of needle tipped
nipple clamps. After making sure that their hot little teeth were
firmly sunk into my tender buds, she chained them to the front of
the machine. I was wearing a posture collar that kept my head
arched up. A chain ran from it, down my back, to the handcuffs
that kept my wrists behind my back. She had also made me put on
my highest pair of spike heels. As a final touch, she had
strapped a feeding gag into my mouth and hooked it up to a bag of
foul tasting liquid that, she assured me, contained double doses
of both a laxative and a diuretic.

There was nothing to do but walk, cry, swallow and take stock of
my sore points. I had gotten used to being in loaded diapers by
now. Just minutes after she had started the damned machine and
left on her errands, my pussy began to scream about the wet
diapers that rubbed against it with every step. My feet were
killing me from the heels and the nipple clamps felt like red-hot
pokers. I tried to ignore it; the most important thing was to
keep swallowing so I wouldn't choke.

I was wetting myself almost constantly by now but I didn't care.
I had to keep walking, keep the nipple chain slack, swallow,
don't choke, don't think, just survive. She was only gone an hour
but it felt like a week.

The bitch sat down and watched me for a few minutes before she
turned off the machine and unclipped the nipple chain. As the
blood and feeling returned to my buds, I began to scream my pain
into the rubber feeding gag. Moira waited patiently for me to
finish. After she removed the gag, I fell into her arms, sobbing,
and meaning every word about how sorry I was and how good I was
going to be from now on.

"I know you will be, baby" she said maternally as she started to
release me. "You've learned a good lesson today. Now you may go
and shower and change your diapers."

I wanted to take off the shoes but I didn't dare ask her. She
didn't volunteer permission, so I stumbled upstairs, grabbed the
first diaper I put my hand on (it happened to be a disposable)
and went into the bathroom.

I stood in the tub and peeled down my plastic panties. The smell
was pretty bad but I didn't care. All that mattered was to get
clean again.

The diaper was a disaster. Being made to sleep in it had been bad
enough but the effects of the diaper restraint belt had made sure
that there was shit everywhere. The cloth covering diaper was
also a mess and I didn't look forward to having to wash it. I
rolled up the disposable but left the cloth diaper in the bottom
of the tub and then turned on the water.

At first the water felt good but as I began to relax, all the
abused parts of my body began their protests. My nipples burned
and ached from the needle clamps, my legs and feet were sore from
walking in the high heels, and my abused bottom screamed its
protest when I let the full force of the shower hit it. Defeated,
I cleaned myself up as best I could and then ran a tepid bath. It
was all my body could tolerate.

As I lay in the gentle water and savored my privacy I realized,
to my surprise, that I didn't hate Moira for what she had done to
me. A little voice inside me kept repeating over and over, `you
have been a bad girl and now you must be punished'. I believed
that voice.

I looked at the disposable diaper that lay ready and waiting to
bind up my loins as soon as I stepped out of my liquid haven.
Just a few days ago, I would have been repulsed at the thought of
having to put it on. Now, I was looking at things differently. It
would be warm, dry, soft and comfortable, at least until the
almost steady dribble from my bladder turned it into another
damp, itchy, prison. For now, I didn't think about that part.
Comfort was all that mattered. I suddenly understood what a
baby's world is all about.

I looked down at my shaven pubis. I wanted to touch it, to see
what a bare pussy felt like. The little voice told me that Moira
could come through the door at any second and, anyway, she would
find out somehow. So, I just stared at it.

I hadn't been horny since Moira took me to the State Hospital.
That's unusual for me. Just thinking about sex, I felt the old,
familiar itch start. `Forbidden!', the little voice screamed and
I obeyed. Touching myself would only bring trouble and I had
enough for one day. I stood up and began to dry myself off.

By the time I had the diaper taped snugly, I was feeling pretty
good, all things considered. Before I started back toward my
room, I felt a strange spasm from deep inside my bowels and
suddenly remembered Moira's comment about the laxatives and
diuretics. My punishment wasn't over yet.

In my room, I decided to add another diaper so I used the end of
a comb to poke holes in the plastic backing of the diaper I was
wearing and taped another disposable over top of it. Then, just
to avoid any stains on the carpet, I put on a pair of
trans-lucent plastic pants. I felt more secure but deep inside my
body Moira's chemicals were at work and I was troubled at knowing
what the effects would be. I cleaned up my room, made the bed and
reluctantly went to find Moira.

As I went down the hall, I caught my reflection in the mirror and
stopped. It was a strange sight, this mid-30's woman with an
attractive face and good figure wearing just plastic pants and a
diaper. I could see how red and sore my nipples looked and my
face was drawn from lack of sleep. By stripping me of clothes,
Moira had taken away my image as an adult woman. Like a child, I
was made to parade around in whatever state of dress or undress
the guardian decreed. My breasts were left free, as though they
didn't exist.

I remembered Moira's decree about make-up and padded back to my
room to obey. Somehow, the bulk between my legs seemed thicker,
the crackling from the diapers and pants that much louder and the
feel of the carpet beneath my bare feet that much stranger.

I did the best I could considering my sinking mood and another
rumble from my guts. I was already glad I had chosen the
disposables. A dab of perfume and I set out again to find my
mistress.

Moira must have heard my rustling approach because she was
looking right at me when I entered the living room.

"Ah, there you are. More comfy now, I presume?"

An alarm bell went off in my head but I couldn't figure out why.
She normally didn't talk to me at all, let alone like this,
unless...

I turned to see the judge who had sentenced me to Moira's care,
sitting in a chair looking very pleased with himself. At first, I
felt mad at Moira for not warning me to dress. Then, I realized
that she didn't want me to dress. She wanted me displayed, her
babypants prisoner, in full gear and nothing to hide it.
Instinctively, my arms began to move toward my breasts, false
modesty to be sure, but a second instinct told me to forget it.
It was humiliation time. Another rumble from my guts reminded me
that there might be more to this than a little peek show.

In the court room I had dubbed him an old fart but a closer look
now changed my mind. He was staring at me alright but it wasn't
the leer of a dirty old man. Despite his pot belly and sagging
neck there was power emanating from this man and the cold,
calculating look of appreciation in his eyes scared me more than
an S&M scene gone sour.

Moira's voice echoed in the room, "Dear, you remember Judge
Wilkins, of course. We've just been discussing your progress and
your future."

"So we meet again, young lady, but not in my court. I'm now
confident that we'll not be conducting that kind of business
together again. Moira has been telling me of the rules you must
live by and what happens when you don't. I'm sorry I wasn't here
this morning to see your first taste of real punishment but I'm
sure we'll have an opportunity to share that experience together
soon."

I looked back at Moira, feeling like a child whose parents have
betrayed her latest misdeeds to the dinner guests. I trembled
with dread and sadness. I didn't know what the judge was hinting
at but I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like it at all. Moira
pointed at the floor and I obediently assumed `the position'.
Almost immediately I sensed that a storm was about to escape from
my rear. I felt my face go pale and I bit my lip, the taste of
lipstick surprising me.

Both of them had noticed my distress.

"The laxatives, I take it?" said the judge.

I nodded.

"Well then, before you dirty yourself up like a bad little baby,
I want you to come here so I can have a closer look at you."

Panic-stricken, I looked at Moira. She smiled and nodded, my
sentence was confirmed. I got up slowly, trying to keep my bottom
cheeks clenched. As I moved toward the judge, I realized that
Moira's dildo treatment had taken its toll on my control. I was
breathing heavily with the effort by the time he reached out and
grabbed me around the waist with both hands, bringing me to sit
on his knee. I was rigid, but more from the effort to keep myself
clean than revulsion at his touch.

He began to move his hands over my padded rear, caressing the
plastic panties almost reverently. He made little cooing sounds
when he noticed my damaged nipples. When I felt one of his hands
slip beneath the back waistband of the panties and diapers, I
tried to forced myself to stare at the floor but instead, found
myself looking at the tent his erection made in his suit
trousers. He urged me to stand while his left hand cupped my ass.
If he had known how close he was to getting a palm full of shit
he wouldn't have taken his time about it. I moaned with
frustration, humiliation and the effort of trying to hold back
the storm that was threatening to invade the very space he was
exploring.

Then he sent his right hand down the front of my diaper,
searching for the bared little mound. I was afraid he would make
me horny but not let me come. He found my slit and began to
massage my clit. At first the tortured flesh protested his touch,
however, it didn't take long before I felt myself get wet for the
first time in weeks. Despite my best efforts at self control, I
felt my body respond. My next moan was of pleasure.

The hand at my ass disappeared. I felt him pull up the back of my
diaper and tug the plastic pants back into place. Then he began
to work on my breasts, first with his hand and then adding his
tongue. It had been so long and I was hot. I felt the orgasm
begin to build even as the crisis in my bottom made me clench my
buttocks and grit my teeth. It was a bittersweet chorus of
pleasure and painful spasms.

"You seem troubled, my dear. Would you like me to stop?"

His voice seemed far away. I was lost in my own little world but
somehow I managed to shake my head. A soft moan of frustration
escaped my parched throat. His fingers increased their stroking
and massaging, responding to my little grunts of pleasure. He was
skilled and knew how to find the right places.

Suddenly, just before the orgasm was to blossom, he stopped. I
grunted in surprise and momentarily lost my concentration. It was
the chance for which my body had been looking. The storm broke
with a rush of hot mush into my diapers, involuntary muscle
contractions also caused a flood of pee from my bladder. His
hands fell away. I took a step backward, engulfed in the fading
arousal and the escalating revulsion of having lost control of
myself.

Paralyzed, I stared down at him while the shit and piss flowed
out of me into the waiting diapers. I heard little whimpers and
then realized that I was making those sounds. His face had taken
on color. His eyes were bright as if he had been drinking. He
didn't even blink as he drank in the scene of my incontinence. He
licked his lips and suddenly I realized that he had gotten what
he wanted. There never would have been an orgasm. He wanted me to
confuse pleasure and pain. He wanted to use me like a toy, to
amuse himself, to have pleasure from my discomfort.

The feelings began to fade and I felt cold. My diapers were
heavy, hanging from my waist. I imagined what I looked like with
them drooping down between my legs. By the time I got my breath
back, I felt dirty, ashamed and humiliated. Suddenly I couldn't
look at him any more and stared at the floor, my childhood memory
of messing my pants played through my mind over and over again.

"It's just as well you didn't come," Moira said almost
consolingly, "it would have meant a week in chastity belts."

I thought about that for a second and then began to cry,
silently. My single sob broke the thick silence in the room.

"It's time to get things put right," the judge said, "starting
with this."

I didn't have to look to know what he was talking about. Part of
me had already guessed that servicing him was in the game plan. I
used to enjoy blowing a man but not now, not wearing a messed and
soaked diaper that threatened to leak the first time I moved; and
especially not for a man who had just robbed me of a much needed
orgasm.

There was no point making things worse by resisting. I thought of
the treadmill downstairs and how much this guy would love to get
his rocks off by watching me go through that horror for an hour
or so. I licked my lips. My mouth was so dry it was going to be
hard to do it right. When I finally got up enough nerve to look
at him, I wasn't surprised to see that he had already dropped his
pants and was fondling his pole reverently. I wanted to check
with Moira but discovered she had left the room. That made me
anxious. What was she up to now?

My head hanging, I went to him and kneeled carefully. I was
worried about leaks from my diaper. No matter how awful I felt,
things would only get worse if I stained the carpet. I took him
into my mouth and began to work my tongue up and down his shaft.
I was rewarded with a soft moan and a congratulatory pat on the
back. I just prayed he wouldn't try to caress my bum again.

I had done this so often before that it all seemed automatic. The
sucking, the stroking, the rubbing, the finding out what he likes
and then give him all he wants until you get a mouthful of cum.
Normally I got $50 for this service. This time I was doing it to
thank someone for robbing me of an orgasm and making me mess my
diapers. It seemed so absurd.

He came in a great chorus of moans and cries, shooting gobs of
the stuff against the back of my throat. I was so dry that I was
almost grateful for the fluid. I cleaned him up with my tongue
and then carefully stood up, trying not to look him in the face
again.

"Well done," he said while putting his pants on.

I heard Moira come back into the room.

"Here's a little reward."

I looked over to see her holding a feeding bag, hose and
restraint gag over a plastic sheet on the floor. I whimpered my
protest. I had been good. I had done everything they wanted. Why
couldn't they leave me alone long enough to let me at least
change my diapers?

Moira pointed to the plastic sheet. I knew by now that it was
useless to protest so I went over and kneeled on it, feeling the
load in my diaper spread when I sat back on my heels. I noticed
the judge was watching carefully as Moira locked my wrists behind
my back with a pair of steel cuffs and then fitted the feeding
gag into my mouth, tightening all the straps more than was
necessary, considering I didn't have any hands.

I caught a whiff of my loaded diapers while she worked on me. At
least Moira and the judge would have to put up with the odor if
they wanted me for entertainment. Moira put the bag on the top
shelf of a bookcase, warned me not to pull it off and turned on
the valve that sent a rush of baby formula into my mouth. I
started swallowing, it was that or drown.

I was doing fine until Moira blindfolded me. It was the stroke of
a genius really. Suddenly my world was confined to the feeling
the acidic poo eating into my sore behind, my aching breasts, my
sore legs, the hot, humid, soaking diaper and the residual
arousal in my pubis. I listened to the rhythmic sounds of my
constant swallowing and started to cry. I didn't care what they
did to me any more. Eventually, I tuned into the conversation and
realized with horror that my fate was being decided.

"You've done well with her in so short a time," said the judge.

"Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation. She's the fourth,
isn't she?"

"From your program. Judy and Lisa have had more traditional
training. I'm intrigued. I definitely want her for my
collection."

"Of girls in pain? You're a real nice guy. I think that you would
find her maintenance a bit of a nuisance. Besides, I'm not sure
I'm finished with her. Those adult diaper folks are willing to
pay well for accurate testing. How about taking her for a couple
of days a week. That will give me time to find another girl and
get her started and you can have your fun."

"I'll want her all night sometimes."

"That can be arranged. I want her restrained at night but you can
handle that, I'm sure."

The judge laughed, "there are advantages to having your home and
office in an old police station."

They talked some more about other things. I had heard enough to
go into panic. Moira was hard to cope with but she was
predictable and followed her own rules. The judge liked to
inflict pain. That was another story. It sounded as if I had
better endear myself to Moira if I wanted to stay out of his
clutches on a permanent basis. Finally they agreed that my smell
was offensive and since my feeding bag was empty, Moira released
me and ordered me to get cleaned up and changed in ten minutes.

I went through the ritual mechanically, my mind distracted by
what I had heard. I didn't even care about how badly the shower
hurt. A quick look in the bathroom mirror told me I was
developing a major case of diaper rash. Back in my room I found
some baby scent Vaseline and coated my diaper area with it. It
made the diapers less comfortable but it took some of the pain
away. I also used a lot of powder to try and prevent more rash.
Just as I was pulling on a pair of plastic panties over two more
disposables, Moira walked in and told me to get ready to go out
to dinner. My costume was to be a mini skirt, high pumps and a
sexy blouse. She pulled the clothes from my closet and then, as
an after thought, dug through the diaper supplies until she found
a pair of pink plastic panties with lace ruffles sewn across the
seat. I was told to put these on over the plastic pants I was
already wearing.

Fear gripped me as I struggled with the clothes and tried to
control my shaking hands enough to put on make-up. Fear of
exposure, fear of discovery, fear of humiliation, it was all the
same. The girl in the changing room didn't seem to matter when
compared to going into a fancy restaurant with your diapers and
plastic panties in plain view. Despite having been made to drink
two quarts of baby formula my mouth was dry again.

One last look in the mirror. Yes, the ruffles peaked out from
underneath the mini skirt. When I took a few steps, I looked just
like a toddling baby girl in high heels. The diapers ballooned
out my rear so badly that someone would have to be blind not to
guess what I was wearing.

My mind raced for some solution. I thought of thinner diapers but
there just wasn't time. I used to have a panty girdle that would
hide some of the bulk but I didn't know if Moira had kept it or
not. Moira called me from the other room. I was out of time. I
had to go out looking like this and the two of them were likely
going to enjoy it all.

The judge leered at me and told me to model the outfit for him. I
did a few steps and a model's spin. He laughed, smiled, and said
I looked "perfect". I guess Moira saw the look on my face because
she told me to start smiling or she would make sure I'd regret
the consequences.

The judge drove a Lincoln. It wasn't until Moira pulled out a
plastic garbage bag for me to sit on that I realized I had
forgotten my diaper bag. Seeing the look on my face, Moira gave
me permission to speak.

"My diaper bag," I croaked softly.

"Too late, we're on our way," the judge said with a chuckle.

I slumped back into my seat, dejected. I was sure that I hadn't
seen the last of the effects of this morning's laxative treatment
and the diuretics had doubled my dribbling. I guessed I might
have two hours at most before a diaper change was going to be
absolutely necessary.

By the time we reached the $50 a plate restaurant, I had more
important things to worry about. The valet took the Lincoln and
the judge escorted his ladies into the posh lobby. My face was
beet red and I kept looking about anxiously to see if anyone was
staring. When I caught my reflection in a full length mirror, I
wanted to die from embarrassment. My secret showed to even the
most casual observer. I didn't know how I was going to walk
across the floor of the restaurant without stopping every
conversation in the room. Moira grabbed my elbow and told me to
hurry up. There was to be no time for self-pity.

I got a lot of stares as we were led to our table but I didn't
exactly stop the show. When the Maitre d' held my chair for me, I
could feel his eyes burning into my diapered behind. I swear he
deliberately touched my panties while adjusting the chair, just
to confirm his suspicions.

The judge ordered martinis for Moira and himself and a Shirley
Temple for me. Before any conversation could start, the Maitre d'
was back. He was carrying two very large white towels and he
whispered something in the judge's ear. The judge looked at me
while he replied and a big smile spread across his face while the
Maitre d' came to me.

"Madame is wearing a diaper, oui?" he whispered.

I almost died. It was a living nightmare. My throat dried up and
my heart was pounding. I couldn't bear to say the words, I just
nodded.

"Since there is the possibility of a small accident, would Madame
permit me to place these on her seat for the protection of the
furniture?"

Again, all I could do was nod. I felt his hand on the chair and I
rose slowly, carefully, conscious of the attention we had already
attracted. I stepped to the side nearest to Moira who was
watching intently. The Maitre d' fanned out each of the two
towels in the air and almost made a show of folding them into a
square pad the size of the seat of the chair. Just as he was
smoothing the last one into place, Moira dropped her cigarettes.

"Pick them up!" she ordered.

The bitch! She knew what she was doing. I felt a tremor of fear
course through my body. With all the eyes already on me, there
was no way I could bend down without showing my diapered rear end
to the entire restaurant. She repeated the command again and this
time I saw her take the remote controller for my belt out of her
purse. I didn't need any more encouragement. I dipped down as
fast as I could and handed her the smokes. She had that satisfied
look on her face that made me hate her the way a child loathes a
parent for handing out punishment. I took a quick glance around
as the Maitre d' helped me with my chair, it confirmed that I had
become the topic of conversation at most of our neighboring
tables. The men turned and stared. The women gave me penetrating
side-long looks. I wondered what would happen if I made off for
the ladies' room.

The towels were very thick, too thick in fact to allow me to sit
at the table comfortably. I felt tilted forward and very
unsteady. The padding also made me sit unusually high and that
just made it easier for the crowd to watch and wonder.

They didn't talk to me during the meal but I kept my ears open. I
also had my diaper to think about. After about the first hour I
was glad for the towels as there was another storm brewing and I
didn't know how I was going to handle that.

I found out that the judge had two girl slaves who worked in his
private offices. Both had been offered the chance to escape
prison by cooperating with him. Officially it was called
Supervised Parole with the judge as the Parole Officer. As far as
I could tell the girls would have been better off in the joint.
The judge put the cells in the basement of his office (a former
police station) to good use. The girls were basically his
prisoners and he obviously enjoyed creative ways to correct their
real or perceived misdeeds. Putting the girls into diapers and
making them use them hadn't occurred to him until he met Moira.
He was quite enthusiastic about incorporating diaper bondage into
his little games and Moira was promising to help. He didn't want
them made incontinent as Moira had done to me. That would have
spoiled some of his other favorite games.

I was feeling sick at the prospect of being delivered into this
guy's clutches but the increasing need to release my rear was
scaring me more. My diapers were almost saturated by the time
that Moira suggested that I accompany her to the ladies' room to
powder our noses.

It didn't surprise me that many other women decided to join us. I
should have known better than to trust her.

We weren't two feet inside the door before she said in a loud
voice, "How is your diaper doing?"

Without waiting for a reply she grabbed my shoulders, spun me
around and had my skirt up and her hand down the back of my
diaper before I could even whimper. Most of the crowd arrived
just in time to see me bent over the sink with Moira doing a very
good rendition of a "mother checking the child's diaper" routine.
They all found it very amusing. There was enough whispering to
drown out a rock band. I was trembling with embarrassment and
flushed deep red but I knew better than to give Moira any
trouble.

"You're soaked!" she exclaimed, "And your diaper bag is at home.
Well, let's add some paper towels and hope for the best."

I had to stand there, paralyzed with humiliation while she
stuffed paper towels down the back of my diaper and between my
legs. Some of the women stopped to watch and one even offered
Moira a couple of super kotex which my mistress gratefully
accepted and which everyone watched her stuff into my plastic
panties.

By the time she was finished, I was crying again. If my diapers
had been obvious before, it was worse now. The extra padding
flared out my skirt and the paper crackled loudly. Moira didn't
say anything while I repaired my make-up but I could tell she was
having fun.

We met the judge in the lobby. He stared at me while I walked
toward him and he had a lot of company.

"Comfy?" he asked with a smile but didn't wait for an answer.

On the way home, the judge asked about the belt around my waist
and Moira explained its many fine features. The judge didn't ask
for a demonstration but I had a funny feeling that he was going
to get one anyway.

Sure enough, Moira asked him to pull over. She handed me bus fare
and told me to get out of the car. I was shaking with fear but it
never occurred to me to plead for leniency. I saw her touch a
button on the controller. I felt a little electric shock and then
I lost all control. All I could do was mess and wet myself. My
knees turned to rubber and I fell against the car for support,
gasping with my body's sudden need to expel.

"Please, no!" I cried out in a hoarse whisper,

By then it was too late. A minute later it was all over. I stood
with my legs wide apart, my diaper so full that I dared not move.
I looked down at the money in my hand. Bus fare. They can't be
serious. But, they were. Moira told me which bus to catch and
then they sped away, laughing at my distress.

It took me about an hour to get my wits back. I leaned against a
fence because sitting was out of the question. What do you do
when your diapers are that full and you have to take public
transit? It was one thing to be dragged into a restaurant but I
didn't have the guts to get on a bus looking and smelling the way
I did.

I thought of escape but most of my friends were hookers who had
no phone and no permanent address. The rest were decent people
who didn't know about my hooking career and were too straight to
be able to cope with me turning up in dirty diapers and the law
on my tail.

I wasn't going to get very far on city bus fare. Even if I had
money, I was legally under Moira's jurisdiction. If I went to the
papers, the judge would pull some strings. I would still have to
go back to Moira but with even more punishment coming my way.
There was nothing else to do but go back to Moira.

I walked about a block, taking each step carefully. Maybe I could
walk all the way. The constant dribbling from my bladder would
have me leaking long before then. I began to get desperate.

I looked around. There was a gas station on one corner and a drug
store right across the street. I could get rid of the diaper at
the gas station but what would I replace it with? It would take
many paper towels. I didn't really want to have to cope with the
drug store as a possibility so I decided to give the station a
try. I got the key from an attendant and slipped inside the
filthy ladies' room. My heart sank when I discovered they used
electric dryers instead of paper towels.

That meant the drug store. I waddled back across the street
wondering if I could steal a pack of baby diapers or some-thing.
Then I got inspired. It was going to take guts but I had nothing
to lose.

I went to the prescription counter and was lucky enough to have
one of the girls, instead of the male pharmacist, serve me. My
throat was dry again and I was shaking like a leaf but I knew I
had to do this.

"Excuse, me," I whispered, noticing her nose twitch from my
aroma, "but I have a medical condition that causes me to lose
control of my bowels."

Her eyes widened and she stepped back a little. She was a pretty
girl but maybe too young to know about such things.

"Look, fact is, I've had an accident. I'm a long way from home,
no supplies and only enough money for bus fare. Can you give me
some diapers on credit?"

"What kind of diapers do you want?" she said in a normal tone.

A few people were now look at us. It was the restaurant all over
again and I wanted to just run out of the store but there was no
where to run to.

"Adult, if you have them but anything will do, even some
Pampers." I whispered and hoped she got the message about keeping
quiet.

She looked at me strangely, "Just a second," and she went off to
the pharmacist.

It was hell watching them talk but even worse when the man looked
at me and I had to look helpless and vulnerable. He smiled and it
was then I knew it would be all right.

The girl came out from behind the counter and took me to the
incontinence supplies section.

"Grab a bag of whatever you want. It's on the house. You can use
the staff washroom through that door. Anything else?"

"An empty plastic bag would be a big help," I said meekly as I
picked up a bag of large Attends.

Once I was alone inside the wash room, it took about half an hour
to clean myself up, put on two of the Attends and my plastic
panties. I thought about leaving off the ruffled ones but by now
I didn't care if people guessed I was in diapers.

I sealed up the bag that contained my dirty diapers and put them
in the trash. I than went out to thank the girl and the
pharmacist who offered to put the rest of the diapers into a
shopping bag for me. The guy wanted to chat. I could tell he was
curious about a good looking lady in diapers but I just wanted to
get out of there. He gave me his card and said to call him
anytime. I had a funny feeling I would.

When I climbed on the bus with my ruffled panties showing and a
bag of diapers in my hand, I didn't care how hard people stared.
I was clean and dry and comfortable again and that was all that
mattered. I had more important things to think about, like going
to work for the judge. -

Chapter 4

I was wearing a slit skit that showed the tops of my stockings
and my plastic panties were loudly crackling with every step when
we arrived to the Judge's office the next morning. One look at
the old-fashioned precinct building brought back many unpleasant
memories from my hooking career.

Moira's car was piled high with all sorts of diapers, plastic
pants and a box of Moira's favorite restraint toys that she had
insisted on packing herself when I was out of the room. I was
supposed to be staying only two days but I guessed the extras
were for Judy and Lisa, the Judge's current charges.

We used a side entrance that took us right into the cell blocks.
I could see that two of the four cells were in use. There was
female clothing, make-up and the beds were neatly made. Even
though I was scared at being given to the Judge for his pleasure,
I was also intently curious about what went on here. There was a
thick ring embedded in the wall over each bed, including the one
that would be mine. That didn't surprise me much. My own bed was
covered with a white plastic mattress cover -- a quaint way of
welcoming me. What did catch my eye and make me wonder, was the
curtain track that ran down the middle of the ceiling and into
every room, including the cells. It was like a one-track railway.

There were no cupboards in my cell, just shelves. Moira made me
lay out all the diapers and panties very neatly. It was all in
full view and I felt my face blush in anticipation of how people
would react to it. It reminded me of being told to hide my
tampons when I was a girl. No one would have any doubt that I was
in diapers. I noticed that she disappeared with her box of toys
for a few minutes. By the time we were ready to go upstairs and
meet the Judge and his girls, my stomach was in knots and I was
sweating with fear. This was a bad place, a house of pain. I
could feel it.

I noticed that the ceiling track ran up the stairs. I was really
getting curious about it. One look at the two girls who worked in
the Judge's office answered all my questions.

We were in a plush reception area. There was one desk for the
receptionist and a computer terminal set on a counter high table.
A large oak door led into the Judge's private chambers. The bars
had not been removed the windows and the vertical shadows
reinforced the prison like atmosphere of the place.

There were two women in the room, each dressed in a tight black
leather mini skirt, white silk blouse, seamed opera hose and
impossibly high black patent spike pumps. The girl at the
stand-up terminal was a brunette who had a good figure. One
glance told me that she wore stockings and it didn't take much
imagination to figure out that the judge liked the way the tops
of her stockings showed every time she moved even an inch. A
long, thin, brass chain was affixed to the track on the ceiling
over her head by a rolling device. It trailed downward, almost
reaching the floor, before it ran upward again. Upward, alright,
until it disappeared under the woman's skirt. I felt my heart
stop cold.

I looked at her companion, a petite blonde with impeccable
make-up, who was working at the desk. It was a modern, glass
topped affair that gave her no modesty. Sure enough, another gold
chain ran upward from behind her chair until it met a roller
attached to the ceiling track.

"May I help you?" she asked sweetly, betraying nothing of what I
had been told of this place.

"Moira and Babypants to see the Judge," Moira said officiously.
"We are expected."

While I cringed and blushed at Moira's reference to me, the girl
didn't even blink. She wrote down our names on a slip of paper
and rose from her chair. Without conscious effort she grasped the
chain and pulled it with her, along its track, as she covered the
few steps to the Judge's door.

I stared until my eyes ached. Somehow that chain was attached to
her under her skirt. My curiosity about how that was accomplished
was fighting my fear of finding out. There's not a lot to attach
a chain to between a girl's legs. The few ideas I had didn't make
me feel any better.

She knocked, opened the door, and then entered, dragging her
chain along with her. It was then that I noticed the strange
black metal thing around her right ankle. I reminded myself to
get a better look when she came back.

"Welcome!" the Judge bellowed through the open door and invited
us to join him.

He also called to Lisa, the other girl, to join us.

His office was huge, almost the full size of the building. His
massive desk was set at the far end of the room, giving him a
commanding position. There was a lot of leather furniture. I
noticed a few well place eyebolts in the walls but what really
got my pulse going was the cruel looking riding crop that rested
on its own little stand across the front of the Judge's desk.

I heard the scrap of the brunette's chain before she appeared in
the door. She was very pretty but her face was drawn from fatigue
or pain, or maybe a combination of the two. She moved carefully,
and, yes, wore the same metal device around her right ankle.
Styled like the spurs on an equestrian's boots, it was made of
dull black metal and had one purpose, to prevent the poor soul
from taking off her painfully high shoes for even a moment's
relief.

The Judge invited us all to be seated. Moira sank into an over
stuffed leather chair while my companion slaves and I assumed
"the position", kneeling on the floor in skirts so short that all
our secrets showed. I looked up at the Judge who sat opposite me.
He was studying me as if I was a new car.

"I'm so pleased we've been able to work something out," he said
to Moira.

"I am too, Judge. Remember, I want her back in the same
condition. You play a little too rough for my taste."

He laughed like a Gestapo officer.

"Very well, I'll behave myself. If she fails to please me it will
go all the worse for Judy and Lisa."

So, he was going to exercise his passions on these two pitiful
souls. Both were still, their hands folded in their laps, eyes
cast down when they weren't steeling glances up my skirt, the
curious chains running up to the ceiling. I could see that Lisa,
the brunette, was very uncomfortable. She was trying hard not to
shift about but wasn't having much luck.

I was very nervous and that made me pee all that much more. I
felt another hot rush arrive in my diapers and the resulting
increase in weight and discomfort. I was going to need a change
soon but it seemed that whenever the judge was around I had to do
without. I was still smarting over yesterday's trip to the
restaurant and having to make my way home with full diapers.

"I just want to experiment with some of your techniques," he said
and that really made me wonder.

Before anything else could be said, a small chime went off. The
Judge looked at his watch.

"My, is it that time already?" He turned to the girls. "Who has
the duty today?"

Judy raised her blonde head and sadly whispered, "I do."

"Then I suggest you get on with it, my dear. There's nothing to
be gained by waiting. Be considerate of our guests!"

"Yes sir," she whispered and slowly rose to her feet.

She dragged her chain with her as she moved toward the Judge's
desk. I had no doubt as to the purpose of her errand.

I heard a sniffle and looked at Lisa. She was trembling and
trying hard not to cry. Her face was red and she could barely
contain myself. A quick glance at Judy, who now held the riding
crop, confirmed my guess.

"Do you wish to speak?" the judge said to Lisa.

She nodded.

"Please, Master, not again. Not so soon. I just can't take it
anymore!"

The words were soft, plaintive. I felt sorry for her.

I heard the scraping of Judy's chain as she returned with the
crop. The Judge's face had lost its smile. I was sure there was
going to be trouble.

Suddenly Moira spoke up.

"Let Sandy take it instead," she said as if it were a spare cup
of coffee.

Now it was my turn to tremble. I looked at the thin crop in
Judy's hands, then at the Judge's face and then at Moira who had
betrayed me. I didn't need to hear the answer. The broad smile
said it all.

"Very well, then. Why don't we let the two girls get acquainted
by swapping experiences. Sandy can take Lisa's punishment and
Lisa can have a taste of Sandy's. Judy, you may proceed
accordingly."

The blonde came over to me. She was cool and collected but there
was sympathy in her eyes.

"Stand up, please."

After I did, she told me to stand behind one of the vacant
chairs, with my back to the Judge and Moira. My throat went dry
and I found it hard to walk. As soon as I was in position, I
heard her voice again.

"Bend over, please, and raise your skirt."

I felt the cool air kiss my naked flesh between the tops of my
stockings and the plastic panties. I could feel my hands tremble
with the fear that raced through my body.

"This," the judge intoned, "is the routine punishment. Each day,
one girl or the other has the duty of chastising the other. If
there is any lack of enthusiasm or application of the crop, the
slacker will receive extra strokes when her day comes. I believe
Lisa has earned five strokes. The punishments are delivered
mid-morning, mid-afternoon and immediately before retiring. You
may begin."

I heard the whistle of the crop as it sliced the air and then a
band of white heat exploded across the backs of my thighs. I
heard myself cry out but the second blow cut off my scream and
the third blow robbed me of breath. I tensed in time for the
fourth blow and screamed again when the fifth arrived.

I came to my senses slowly. I could hear myself crying. I was
still bent over the chair. Judy put her hand on my shoulder and
helped me to stand. I felt the back my thighs. There were five
puffy welts that ached and stung and hurt so badly I was almost
sick to my stomach. I couldn't imagine suffering that way three
times a day. It made diaper confinement seem like a picnic. I
heard someone tell Judy to help me get cleaned up and she led me
from the room.

She took me to a small bath room just off the reception area.

"Just lean against the wall for a moment while I go to the loo.
We don't get a chance to visit here very often."

As I tried to compose myself I realized she had an English
accent. I watched her step across the chain, so it ran up her
front, then undo the zipper of her leather skirt. As she shimmied
it down her hips, I saw her garter belt. She wasn't wearing any
panties so I got a perfect view of her shaven pussy and the large
gold rings that pierced each of her pubic lips. A small padlock
held them tightly together and fastened the end of the chain.

"Oh my God!" I said in surprise.

She looked up as she released her water.

"It's not as bad as it looks. The piercing is the worse part. You
can't afford to trip or catch your chain accidentally, that's
all."

She didn't say anything more as she wiped herself and put her
skirt on again. Then she carefully stepped around the chain again
and went to a medicine cabinet over the sink.

"I suppose the loo is off limits for you."

"Yes" I mumbled.

"How do they manage to keep you in nappies all the time?"

I gave her a quick version of how Moira had forced me into
diapers. By the time I was finished, Judy had laid out some first
aid supplies and a few things to repair my make-up.

"Our story isn't that different. Like you, if we had known what
we were getting into, we would have fled. The Judge is into S&M.
Three times a day, one of us has to take the crop to the other.
Whoever is on the receiving end must stand all day in these
damned shoes, one of which is locked on so we can't get any
relief. We can't wear panties, are forbidden to touch ourselves
and have to put up with the Judge's attentions anytime he wants
it."

She had me bend over the sink while she dabbed away at my welts
with some ointment.

"Don't worry, you'll soon toughen up."

I knew she was trying to be reassuring but it wasn't very
helpful.

"Why have they brought you here?" she asked as she started on my
face.

I could have done my own make-up but if she was willing to do it
for me, it was fine with me.

"Believe it or not, the Judge likes the sight of me in diapers."

"That's not good news for us."

"Wait until you see the goodies we brought for you."

Her face was only inches from mine. I could smell the delicate
perfume. She was beautiful and while I'm not normally attracted
to women, I wanted her. I saw she was stealing glances at my
eyes. We were both so hungry, so much in need of loving
attention, even if it came from our own sex.

Her hand began to fumble with the waist of my skirt.

"Do you feel like taking a chance?" she whispered hoarsely.

I nodded.

"Do me and I'll do you."

It was all the word I needed. She took a step back while I sank
to my knees. A wave of pain from my thighs reminded me not to sit
back too far. I reached for the zipper at the back of her skirt
and then slid the garment down her thighs. She stepped out of it
and spread her legs. The rings and the chain that bound her were
only inches from my nose.

Judy leaned forward, putting her hands on the wall to take her
weight.

"Easy on the rings," she grunted, "they can hurt a lot."

I put my hands on her hips and pulled her closer. Then I went
exploring with my tongue, sending it between the top of the rings
and her clit. I heard her moan with pleasure as soon as I made
contact. She spread her legs wider and began to move her hips. I
gripped her more tightly to stop the movement.

I licked and suckled her tortured little mound. I felt so sorry
for her. The rings seemed so cruel, so uncomfortable. It wasn't
hard to get an orgasm from her. She trembled, moaned and finally
had to bite her finger to stop herself from screaming.

I stood up while she collected herself. She surveyed me
carefully. No longer horny, she was obviously having second
thoughts about her end of the bargain.

"Don't worry," I said softly, "your hand will be enough."

Judy smiled and pushed me back against the wall. I closed my eyes
and felt her hand penetrate the waist of my skirt, slide past the
plastic panties and work down the sodden diaper until it found my
naked pubis.

She stroked me carefully, with kindness. I swooned with the
pleasure of it. For the first time in many weeks, I was receiving
love from someone else. I felt the orgasm blossom in my loins and
grow until it held my body in its power. I shuddered and gritted
my teeth to keep quiet but it was lovely, supremely lovely. Just
as I was catching my breath, a buzzer sounded.

"Damn!" Judy exclaimed. "We've been too long. Just hope they
don't inspect us."

She ran some water over her hands and then fled.

I washed my hands, checked my make up and hoped like hell the
flush in my cheeks would disappear quickly. On nervous and
unsteady legs I went back to the others.

Judy had resumed her place next to Lisa. I searched the Judge's
face for any sign that he knew what we had been up to. He was
smiling broadly. I didn't know whether to be suspicious or not.

"Why don't we take a little tour of the cells," he suggested.

I caught a hint of something in his voice and got scared. When he
told Lisa to stay in the office to answer the phones, I knew we
had been found out. She, not Judy, was supposed to get "my"
punishment. I looked at Moira. She had that, "I've got you", look
in her eyes. She said she had forgotten something in the car and
excused herself.

The Judge led us from the room.

"You know, girls, I've learned a lot in my time on the bench and
the most important lesson of all is to know your limits."

We were walking down the stairs then, with Judy trying to manage
her chain.

"We all have to obey the rules, even if we don't like them.
People who don't obey the rules must be dealt with. That's why we
have laws and places of punishment."

He paused in front of a white door and took a key from his
pocket. I glanced at Judy. Her head was cast down, she was
crying. I knew we were in trouble.

"Since you two don't seem to know your limits, this will be your
place of punishment."

With a turn of the key the door flew open and I gazed inside. As
soon as I saw the dungeon like torture equipment I began to
tremble but when I saw the obstetrical table I felt sick to my
stomach.

The Judge led us inside. Moira appeared with her box of toys and
the silence in the air hung thick while Judy and I waited for the
next announcement.

"Moira, dear, just what do you suggest I do to contain Judy's
excessive interest in self-stimulation."

Moira's face lit up, she had caught the drift of the game.

"Judge, the problem is obvious. She still associates her genitals
with pleasure, instead of mere elimination."

The Judge caressed the stirrups of the obstetrical table, almost
reverently.

"And how do we change that?"

"By putting her in very thick diapers, feeding her a few
chemicals and waiting for nature itself to teach her a lesson. It
takes a while but it can be very entertaining and it is very
effective, I assure you."

Judy began to sob softly as they prepared her diaper prison. The
Judge took a key from his pocket and unlocked the wretched girl's
shoe retainer while Moira began to spread extra-large disposable
diapers on the obstetrics table, piercing the plastic backing of
each of the three diapers that would be captured inside the
fourth, outer diaper.

I had never worn four of those diapers at once but I could easily
guess what they would feel like. Even the thought of it made me
shudder. A new rush of pee flooded into my own diapers, reminding
me that my own punishment was yet to come. Worse still, I could
feel a BM coming soon and I wondered if they would use that
against me.

Moira laid out a pair of bloomer style plastic pants. These have
long legs that prevent much leaking. Moira didn't insist on me
using them during the day because it prevented me from wearing
the mini skirts she favored but this time I sensed that they fit
right into her plans.

I turned my attention to Judy. She was standing still, silently
crying while the Judge slowly undressed her as if she was a doll.
She had a beautiful body and a faint desire swelled up in my
loins. The Judge had unlocked the chain from her pubic rings and
now I studied them. I could see why she had wanted me to be
careful. The cold metal piercing her most tender flesh looked
cruel, especially after the Judge used the tiny lock to secure
the two rings together.

"Get onto the table, dear," the Judge whispered to his captive,
"it's time to fasten you down."

Slowly, her head bent with fear and shame, Judy went to the
table. She carefully climbed onto it with Moira's guidance. After
her legs came to rest, spread wide, in the cold metal stirrups,
her arms dropped to her sides. Moira and the Judge each fastened
them to waiting leather cuffs at each side of the table. A few
minutes later they had bound her legs to the metal apparatus with
small leather straps. Judy was ready for her diapers.

She looked over at me with sad eyes. I wanted to help her but
there was nothing I could do. I saw Moira preparing a Fleet enema
and wanted to warn Judy but no good could come from it so I tried
to hold her attention until the worst was over. It was then that
I noticed that Moira had prepared a diaper restraint belt as
well.

So, that was the game. The enema, thick diapers and leak proof
panties spelled it out. Poor Judy was going to be very
uncomfortable very soon and there wasn't going to be a thing she
could do about it until someone decided she had suffered enough.

Judy gasped softly when Moira pressed the lubricated nozzle of
the enema past her tensed little rosebud. I could hear the rush
of the powerful chemicals rushing into the poor girl. Moira
collapsed the bottle as much as she could and then pulled it out,
warning her victim not to lose so much as a drop until she was
told.

Then the diapering began. Each of the adult disposable diapers
was pulled up between Judy's bound legs and taped tightly. For
good measure, my Mistress added wide bands of packing tape over
the diaper's tapes to make sure everything held fast. By the time
the fourth, outer, diaper was taped snugly I decided it was just
as well that Judy's legs were forced as wide apart as they were.

Judy was silent but breathing anxiously, her bared breasts rising
and falling quickly. I could see the terror, dread and shame in
her eyes. I knew what it felt like to have an enema used against
you, how at first it was only cold fluid and then the cramping
started and keeps getting worse and worse until you could think
of nothing but letting it all out.

The Judge and Moira quickly released the straps, helped their
victim to stand and then made her face the table and lean against
it, taking her weight on her hands. It was the ideal position for
applying the restraint belt that Judy had not yet seen.

Much as she tried to keep still, Judy could not avoid some
movement of her hips while she waited in silent agony. They
pre-pared the plastic pants and guided her bare feet into the leg
holes. The Judge took extreme pleasure in slowly working them up
her legs until they captured all of the diapers in their hot,
humid and efficient embrace.

Judy's face was contorted, she was so absorbed with the
sensations from the plastic panties and the effects of the enema
that she didn't realize at first what the leather belt being
fastened around her waist was for. As soon as the crotch strap
was brought between her legs Judy knew.

"Oh, God!" she muttered and sobbed.

It was Moira who administered this last, and most cruel, of the
devices. She settled the waist band snugly around Judy's hips and
then began to tighten the crotch band until it virtually cleaved
the pillow of diaper at Judy's behind. A small padlock was used
to secure it and Moira stepped back, obviously pleased with
herself.

"You can let it go now, Judy. If you can," Moira laughed cruelly.

The Judge, Moira and I stood in a circle around poor Judy while
she struggled against her diapers, their retainer, and the
chemical storm in her bowels, to accomplish the simple act of
getting dressed. Her face was flushed red, either from the shame,
pain or both.

First came the garter belt. It still fit around her waist but
only just. Before even attempting a stocking, she knew enough to
let out the garters to accommodate the tremendous bulge of her
diapers. She prepared a stocking and then bent over to put her
polished toes into it. The effort strained the retainer belt and
she moaned but managed to start the stocking anyway. Slowly and
carefully she worked it up her pale, smooth legs, checking the
straightness of her seam often even though this action was
uncomfortable for her. She had to stretch her garters to the
limit to attach them to the top of her stocking and I truly felt
sorry for her.

After the second stocking was suspended from its straining
garters, the Judge insisted that she put on her shoes. She
stepped into them and then meekly kept still while the metal
harness was fastened onto her right ankle.

Anyone could tell that her skirt was now far too small to
accommodate Judy's diapers. The Judge thoughtfully provided a
larger size that was a little longer and cut a little more
generously. She stepped into in and had a little trouble
fastening it. Finally she added the blouse and stood there,
trembling, waiting for further orders.

The Judge paced around her, inspecting her misery.

"It's a pity we can't fasten you. I so like to see you dragging
your little chain along."

"Don't worry, Judge," Moira said. "With all that she has to think
about now I doubt she'll want to walk, let alone run. She won't
be going anywhere. Take a few steps dear."

Judy wobbled a few paces until her face suddenly screwed up with
pain. The cramps were getting to her. She turned to the Judge.

"Please, Master, take it off. I've learned my lesson. Please
don't do this to me."

By way of response, the Judge picked up a riding crop, lifted the
back of Judy's skirt and laid two cuts on her plastic covered
thighs, just above the tops of her stockings.

"You know better than to beg!" he muttered.

Moira piped up.

"Now that Judy is learning her lesson it's time Sandra was
brought to task." She turned to me, "Get undressed and prepare a
set of night diapers for yourself. Your new friend is about to
apply your punishment."

I stripped slowly. Even though Judy had already seen my diapers
and plastic panties, I was still embarrassed about the Judge's
attention. I could see a big bulge in his crotch and remembered
his episode with me in the living room.

When I was down to my diapers and plastic pants, Moira told me to
prepare the diapers on the floor, beside the OB table, to catch
any dripping.

I did as I was told but inside I was terrified. If they were
prepared to make Judy's life hell so easily, what could my
imaginative Mistress have planned for me? I saw the Judge laying
out a pair of the impossibly high spiked shoes and a leather mini
skirt. There was also one of the metal shoe harnesses.

Out of habit, I tried to wet myself as much as possible in an
attempt to keep the new diapers dryer longer. I was so scared,
not a drop was forthcoming. Worse, my BM was very close and I
wish I had been able to bring myself to accommodating it before
all this started.

Moira was preparing something on the other side of the table, out
of my sight. I knew it came from her little box of toys and
therefore I wasn't going to like it. I glanced at Judy, who still
seemed to be holding her own against the chemical storm set loose
inside her.

Finally there was nothing to do but take off my diaper and lean
against the table with my feet spread on either side of the
diapers that would soon bind up my loins again. I tried to guess
what Moira had in store for me but my mind went blank.

Moira grabbed Judy and made her stand beside me. I was told not
to turn around.

"She's the source of your misery, Judy. Now you can have some
revenge. Choose two!"

I heard Judy sob.

"I can't," she said softly.

The Judge's crop sang through the air again, meeting Judy's
plastic covered thighs in a sickening smack of pain. There was a
moment of silence while Judy did what she had to do.

The curiosity was killing me but I knew better than to turn
around. I was being kept naked so whatever Moira was working on
had to be worn under the diapers. I few drips of pee escaped from
between my legs and made little yellow dots on the waiting diaper
below. My need for a BM was reaching minor crisis propor-tions.
Suddenly I felt a plastic belt being fastened around my waist. I
looked down and my heart stopped cold.

In the S&M trade we called it an invading chastity belt. Unlike
the virtue protecting models, these belts featured attached
dildos that penetrated the poor girl front and rear. Normally an
hour or two was all you could take. I knew from experience that
an hour or two would just be the beginning for me. Instinctively
I tried to pull away but the Judge had wisely gripped my wrists
from his vantage point on the other side of the table.

"Put them in her!" Moira growled.

I caught the scent of Judy's perfume as she bent between my legs.
Now it was my turn to breathe sharply in fear of what was about
to be done to me. I glanced down again at the two huge plugs. I
was sure they wouldn't go in without damage but I prayed they
would anyway.

Judy thoughtfully used a little saliva on the head of the plug
intended for my vagina just before she brought the rounded tip
into position. Then, almost gently, she began to force it against
my tender little love lips, lips that had not been penetrated in
many weeks. At first it wasn't too bad. However, I wasn't aroused
at all and being dry as a bone down there made things all the
worse. I felt myself distending as my poor love box tried to
accommodate this impossibly big intruder. It wasn't very long
before it began to hurt and shortly after that I began to cry
despite my best efforts not to. Judy applied a steady pressure.
Deeper and deeper it went in until I was sure I just couldn't
take any more. I was sobbing steadily and fighting the Judge's
grip by the time she stopped and turned her attention to the plug
intended for my rear.

I was by now fighting the Judge so much that they decided to
handcuff me. As soon as the cold hard cuffs had my hands fastened
behind my back, they bent me over the table. There was no way
that I could now resist the dildo's insertion into my rear
passage.

This seemed to go a little easier, either because I was
concentrating so much on my aching cunt or because Moira's use of
a butt plug just a few days earlier had loosened me up a little.
Still, it was very painful and I cried and cursed them all until
the Judge decided he had enough and put a ball gag into my mouth.

Finally it was over. I lay across the table panting into the gag
while Moira tightened the retention strap and then locked it.
They took the handcuffs off then and took out the gag. I was told
to diaper myself and be quick about it.

Every movement was agony. Each little step moved the intruders
painfully. Worse yet was the now frustrated need to move my
bowels. I was dizzy from the pain and it was all I could do to
remember how to fit the diaper to myself correctly. I swore
revenge against Moira and the Judge even as I pulled up my
plastic panties.

Like Judy, I had a lot of trouble with my garter belt and
stockings. When it came time for the shoes, I found a new source
of pain. The four inch heels tightened my ass cheeks and made the
intruders all the much worse. The Judge took great pleasure in
fastening the shoe lock into place.

Judy and I painfully teetered our way upstairs to the office.
Lisa was summoned. The Judge was horny, Moira had some ideas even
though Judy and I were out of commission as far as fucking went.

An hour later, Judy and I still hadn't said much to each other. I
did some filing while she typed correspondence at the standing
work station. Neither one of us relished the thought of sitting
down. From time to time we would hear Lisa cry out or the smack
of a leather instrument meeting her flesh.

I could tell that Judy had not released all of the enema. Her
face was contorted with the effort and sometimes she would lean
against the wall, spread her legs and grunt as she tried to
release into her diapers. She walked with an enforced waddle and
the legs of her bloomer plastic panties showed slightly every
time she moved. Whenever she caught me watching her she blushed
and looked away.

"We may as well talk about it?" I said finally. "There's nothing
else to do."

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"For what?" I started to cross over to her but walking was
painful. I decided to stay where I was.

"I got you into trouble. Then they made me choose the dildos for
you to wear. I tried to find the smallest. Truly I did!"

I could see that she was close to tears and finished emotionally.

"You did what you had to do. Any chance of getting out of here?"

She shook her head.

"You know how it works. They would have the police on us in a
minute."

She paused to listen from the sounds below.

"We won't be seeing them for a while. I can hear the flash guns.
The boss is doing a photo session."

That caught my attention.

"A photo session? You mean he takes pictures of what he does to
you girls?"

Judy nodded.

"Yes, and there's no doubt Moira will be a part of this one. One
of his customers wanted a female master series."

Ideas were swimming around my brain. Revenge might be closer at
hand than expected.

"How does he get them developed?"

Judy told me that there was a dark room downstairs and that she
did most of the developing work. The Judge's face often appeared
in the photos but was masked with an airbrush before the prints
were sold. Now I needed only one more piece to make it all work.

"Does the Judge keep a gun?"

"Yes, but..," she looked at me as it fell together for her. "You
can't be serious."

"Just show me the gun and I'll let you know what serious means."

A few minutes later we had worked out a plan. I had hoped to find
a spare set of keys in the Judge's desk but no such luck. The
locks that retained Judy's diaper and my chastity belt had been
supplied by Moira. Being able to take off our spikes would have
helped but it wasn't critical. The hardest part was going to be
getting downstairs without gasping so loudly that they would hear
us.

I could tell that Judy was very weak from her constant efforts to
release the enema. Still, she summoned up enough strength that I
decided to take her along.

We crept down the stairs as slowly and quietly as we could. It
was very painful for each of us but it only made me more
determined to get revenge. I held the gun, a loaded .38 police
special.

We got to the door of the punishment room and I looked in for a
second. Lisa hung from manacles on one wall while the Judge and
Moira, both dressed in domination gear, took turns using a whip
on her. By the condition of Lisa's back, we had arrived none too
soon.

I stood in the door way until they noticed me.

"Enough games for now, Judge. Reality is here."

My voice stopped Moira in mid-swing. The whip fell limp in her
hand and her face drained of color. The Judge appraised the
situation carefully and began to slowly move toward a table.

"Hold it! Just give me one more excuse like that and you're
history."

"Stop this now and we'll be easy on you." The Judge said.

"This isn't your court. You don't have a thing to say. Just turn
around and put your hands on your head, both of you!"

It didn't take long for Judy to get Lisa out of the wall manacles
and replace her with Moira, facing front this time. Another set
of manacles took care of the Judge. As soon as they were locked
up, Judy and I found the keys.

"Me first!" she screamed while stripping off her blouse and
skirt.

I thought of my own condition for a moment and then agreed.

"Now, listen to me!" I said while fumbling with the lock on her
diaper retention belt. "Just let it go. Don't try and make a run
for the toilet, you won't make it. There are worse things that
shitting your pants. And you are, after all, in diapers."

She blushed at my last comment but nodded her head. As soon as
the belt fell away she spread her legs and squatted down. The
force of it took over her. She couldn't support herself any-more
and just lay on the floor while wave after wave of the enema
filled her diapers. She began to cry from the shame of it and
finally lay gasping and sobbing, too exhausted to care about
cleaning herself up.

While Judy had been enjoying her relief I had been working on my
own. First, my diapers and plastic panties fell to the floor with
a sodden thud. Then I began to fumble furiously with the lock at
the back of my chastity belt. One look at Judy told me she was
too weak to help. I was getting desperate when Lisa came to me
and in a weak voice offered to help.

As soon as the lock was off, I began to pull at the plugs. I
discovered that getting them out was as painful as getting them
in.

"You'll pay for this!" I screamed through clenched teeth at Moira
and the Judge, meaning every word of it.

The vaginal plug came out first and then the anal intruder. As
soon as it had left my body, my BM arrived. There was no time to
look for a toilet. I stepped into my discarded diapers and
managed to pull them up to my waste just in time to fill them
with gooey shit. It was humiliating and embarrassing but I didn't
care about that anymore.

After a few minutes, I knew there was a disgusting job to be
done. I grabbed a disposable diaper, a fresh pair of plastic
panties and told Judy to take me to the bath room. She rose on
shaky legs. Another little wave caught her and she blushed.
Somehow I had the presence of mind to grab another diaper and
plastic pants on the way out the door.

The showers were part of what had been the locker room. They were
the institutional type so Judy and I got to see each other's
messy bottoms but we didn't care much. As we dried our-selves off
she eyed the second diaper and panties.

"Are those for me?"

I spread one of the diapers out on a bench and motioned for her
to come to me.

"I'm afraid so. You'll be having a few accidents for the rest of
today and this will take care of it."

I saw a look of revulsion cross her face.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine by tomorrow but you'll thank me for
this in less than an hour."

She was docile and childlike as she lay down on the waiting pads.
I admired her body again and wished I had thought to bring the
keys to her pubic lock. I had no baby powder either. It would
have been nice to rub some into her creamy smooth flesh. She
giggled with pleasure when I brought the pad up between her legs
and taped it snug. I even started her plastic pants up her legs
for her.

She stood up and ran her hands over the taut plastic. She was
blushing furiously but looked a lot happier now.

"Its really quite comfortable, isn't it," she said shyly.

"Not if you have no choice about having to wear them." I said as
I taped a diaper on myself.

As I pulled my plastic pants into place I had to admit that one,
dry, diaper was a nice feeling.

By the time we got back to the punishment room, Lisa had regained
enough strength to have dressed and begin exacting some
retribution on the captive Moira and Judge. Her item of choice
was the alligator clamp and she was just applying the last of
them to Moira's pubic lips when we arrived. I surveyed the
Judge's clip covered body and smiled.

"You'll never get away with this!" the Judge grunted though his
pain. "I'll have the police on you in an hour."

"I don't think so," I said as I removed the film from the camera.
"Judy is going to develop these and we are going to keep a set of
negatives. If we have any trouble from you, a set of prints will
land on some very powerful desks."

I tossed the film to Judy who was smiling broadly. I noticed she
had put on her blouse but had left her skirt off, keeping her
plastic pants exposed.

I noticed Lisa putting on her stockings. Then she stepped into
the high spike pumps.

"You don't have to wear them anymore." I told her and she smiled.

"But I like to," she said simply. "I've gotten used to them.
Anything lower hurts my legs."

There was so much to do. Judy and Lisa were going to find an
apartment. A quick raid on the Judge's safe provided the
necessary funds. I asked Judy to type up absolute discharge
papers for all three of us. The Judge was than encouraged to sign
them by our waving a monster dildo under his nose and suggesting
where it soon might find a home.

While we all wanted out of there and badly, there were still a
few problems. Watching Judy accidentally mess herself gave me an
idea. I discussed it with the girls in private and they agreed.
Then Judy took me aside and asked me to change her.

I was surprised but not annoyed. Lisa went upstairs to count the
cash while I took Judy to what would have been my cell.

"You were right," she giggled as I peeled down her plastic
panties, "I did mess myself."

There was a pause while she summoned up some courage.

"Could I have a double diaper this time? The padding between my
legs feels nice. And... could you please unlock me?"

I left her lying on the plastic mattress cover while I went for
the keys. There was something magical about her. I gently opened
the lock.

"Want the rings off too?"

She shook her head.

"No, not now. I'm used to them."

I used two disposable diapers on her and gave her the same pair
of plastic pants. She wanted one of the skirts Moira had brought
for me so I gave it to her, warning her about the slit and how
things showed. She blushed as she admitted that she liked the
thought of that.

I finished dressing with her. I loaned her a garter belt and more
stockings. She didn't mind that they had seams. A few minutes
with my make-up case and we felt like human females again. Judy
went to develop the film while Lisa and I took care of our former
masters.

Moira's eyes grew wide when she saw the pile of suppositories in
my hand.

"You're not... You can't!" she moaned,

I just nodded.

Spread out as they were on the wall, Lisa and I had no trouble in
pressing three of the little devils up their bottoms. We then
proceeded with diapering each of them in four disposables and
plastic pants.

We decided to leave the alligator clips on. That made sure the
diapers would not be very comfortable. Both captives were
pleading with us as we made our final preparations to leave.

"Please, have some mercy. You can't leave us like this." The
Judge wined.

"You're getting no worse that you would have handed out. We'll
call the police in a day or two and you can tell them what-ever
you like. But, the discharges stand or you get to be instantly
famous."

I could see the fear in their eyes. We had won. As we walked down
the hall toward the door I noticed two things. We were each still
wearing the high spike pumps and I could hear the rustle of
Judy's diaper and plastic pants. I wasn't surprised when I saw
more diapers sticking out of her shopping bag of belongings.

Epilogue

It's been three months since Judy, Lisa and I escaped from the
Judge and Moira. I'm still in diapers but for all the right
reasons.

I stayed in Moira's house long enough to reopen my apart-maned. I
also helped myself to her supply of cloth diapers as well as the
stock of plastic and rubber pants. I am not sure why, but I also
appropriated some of other "toys" as I moved back to my place.

Judy and Lisa came to dinner a couple of times and from the
beginning I was suspicious about Judy. Her skirts seemed to flare
just a little too much at the waist and I was sure I could hear
the telltale rustle of plastic panties. Since I was constantly in
diapers, I didn't pay much attention to it.

I did notice that the formerly humble Lisa had taken on a new,
dominant role. She told Judy what to do and when to do it. I
finally got my answers when Judy turned up alone one night.

She had a small overnight case with her and asked in tiny voice,
"My mistress is away. Will you take care of me?"

The first thing that needed to be taken care of was her diaper. I
was only mildly surprised to find a diaper under her skirt or
that she still wore seamed stockings and the high pumps that the
Judge had put on her. To see her pubic rings locked together
again, however, made me question her once she was comfortable and
sipping tea in the living room.

"I guess it started when I wanted to go back to hooking. Lisa got
mad and said we had a chance to make it on our own and we should
take it. I used to make all the decisions and so it was strange
to see her put her foot down. We got into a fight and somehow she
got a pair of handcuffs on me."

"Well, she had noticed that I was wearing a diaper a lot of the
time so she decided to cure me of that by making me wear one all
the time. She made me listen to hypnosis tapes and soon I was
wetting like a baby. Then one day, she came home from work early
and found me masturbating with a vibrator. The lock cured that."

Judy went on to tell me that she had become Lisa's diaper slave
in a gentle sense. Lisa insisted that Judy wear a diaper all the
time and refrain from touching herself. I was intrigued and
horny.

"So, you have to obey every order?"

She nodded and I took her to the bedroom. For the rest of the
weekend she learned what a diaper slave's life was all about.
Moira had taught me well. I took her shopping and made her show
her diapers to shoe salesmen. We went to that same lingerie store
where Moira had humiliated me and made sure that the sales girl
saw both of our diapers, but this time it was fun. I made her
spend one night in the bondage rig that Moira had made me endure
every night and afterward Judy agreed that she couldn't take much
of that. She did show a lot more respect to me, how-ever.

We were both sorry to see the weekend come to an end but all of
us have had a lot of fun since. Of course, Lisa was part of the
good times.

The other major development in my life is Kyle, the pharmacist
who gave me diapers when I needed them the most. I found his card
when I was packing up to move back to my own apartment and
decided to call him. I needed some straight friends and since he
already knew about my diapers, he was a good place to start.

Our first date was dinner at his place. Normally I wouldn't agree
to that situation the first night out but I figured my diapers
would act as a kind of chastity belt. Actually, they had the
opposite effect.

The first thing Kyle did, after I arrived, was to find an excuse
to pat my bottom to see if I was in diapers. I decided to clear
the air right out.

"Satisfied?"

"About what?" He was playing coy.

I held up my knee length skirt and let him see my garter belt,
plastic pants and the bulging diaper underneath.

"Isn't that what you were wondering?"

He admitted that it was and immediately changed the topic. Sooner
or later it was going to come up again because I was going to
need a change.

Over dinner he plied me with wine. I've never been much of a
drinker. Not having had a drop for a couple of months made me all
the more vulnerable. By the time my diapers had reached the
saturation point so had my brain. I excused myself from the
table, stood up and immediately fell off my heels, twisting an
ankle. The surprise, pain and shock made me wet again and this
time the diapers gave up. I could feel a trickle escape past my
plastic pants onto the carpet. I said I was sorry and started to
cry.

Kyle gently picked me up and carried me to his bedroom. Something
inside me was scared but the reality was that if I didn't move I
was going to create a mess. So, I snuggled up against him and
tried to make the best of it.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a waterproof changing pad on his
bed and stacks of disposable diapers waiting nearby. There was
also Vaseline, baby powder and all the necessities for a diaper
change.

I teased him that he had planned the whole thing but he didn't
say anything. Silently and gently he laid me on the bed, hoisted
my skirt, undid my garters and proceeded to change me like a wet
nurse.

He spent much time rubbing powder into my bared mound and I was
getting turned on. However, he didn't take advantage of it. Well,
not then anyway. I moaned in protest when he brought the fresh
diapers (he was smart enough to use two of them) up between my
legs and taped them snug. Then, he carefully pulled up my plastic
panties and re-fastened my garters. As he carried me back to the
living room, I wondered what had happened to me.

"Comfy?" he asked after depositing me on the couch with a pillow
under my injured ankle.

I knew damn well he could see up my skirt but by then I didn't
care.

I thanked him for his attention while I tried to ignore the fire
he had lighted in my loins. It had been a long time since I had
received caring attention from a man and it was quite
over-whelming, to say the least.

Under his probing questions, I told him the whole story, omitting
some of the juicier details of how we had gotten revenge on Moira
and the Judge. It took a while in the telling and by the time I
was finished, so was my diaper. I took one look at the balloon
that used to be my ankle and put on my best smile.

"Kyle, darling, I need another change."

This time Kyle cleaned my clit with his tongue and put out my
fires with his personal, not so little fire extinguisher. As I
swooned in the aftermath of great sex I felt him fastening my
diaper for me. Then he worked a pair of plastic panties up my
legs and finished undressing me. In the morning, I was wet so he
changed me again.

I spent the next two days with him, making love at every diaper
change and generally getting lost in it all. I finally got around
to asking him where all the diaper supplies came from and he
admitted that the thought of a woman in diapers turns him on. He
had brought it all home from the drug store in anticipation of
our time together.

Kyle and I moved in together after seeing each other for only a
month. I had never felt so cared for before in my life. He
changes me whenever he's home and doesn't hesitate to spank me if
I'm being bitchy.

He has also devised a number of ways to remind me to "be nice".
Based on my descriptions, he has built a duplicate of the diaper
retention belt used by Moira. Whenever he wants me to count my
blessings, he'll put me into four diapers in the morning, lock
the belt in place and depart for a long day at the drug store.
I've often called him and pleaded for him to come home and change
me but he is adamant. I must put up with a wet and often messy
behind until he decides otherwise.

Sometimes he'll let me come down to the store for a change. He
has told all of his sales girls of my "problem" and makes sure
that at least one of them gets to see my diapers and plastic
panties. He knows this embarrasses me but then, it's supposed to
be a minor punishment.

Kyle is a leg man and has insisted that I continue to wear high
heels and seamed stockings. If I go shopping, he'll question me
at length about how many people noticed my seams or my diapers
(which still peek out from the slits in my skirts). I've come to
enjoy this innocent exhibitionism. The only hard part is when I
shop with girl friends who don't know I'm in diapers. They wonder
why I never seem to need to use the ladies' room.

After two months of living together, we finally talked about
removing the shunt that makes me incontinent. We agreed that it
should come out but that he would have the right to put me into
diapers anytime he wanted. To save costs, Kyle suggested that he
do as much of the pre-op lab work as possible and I agreed. We
didn't get very far. The first test was a pregnancy test and it
came back positive.

Wearing diapers with a bulging belly is a new experience. As time
goes on I'm beginning to wonder if I want the shunt taken out
after the baby comes. After all, I'll then have a legitimate
excuse for being incontinent and I wouldn't want to miss out on
all the attention I get from Kyle.

In case you're wondering. I let the Judge and Moira hang in
chains for three days before I called the police and suggested
that they pay the Judge a visit. There was a big splash in the
papers over it and both Moira and the Judge lost their jobs.
Someone sent photos to the tabloids that showed Moira and the
Judge in the middle of an S&M scene.

By the way, I hear that both of them had to be hospitalized for
diaper rash.

-Ohmster