Alisa's Adventures in the Diaper Dimension - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - Sup-Sup-Suppertime


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

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

"Nope!" Clara agreed.

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

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

"Yeah!" Clara giggled. "I bet she's going pee-pee right now!"

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

"Nope!" Clara declared proudly. "Dolly's just a little baby!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As soon as Alisa saw what Clara returned with, she immediately whined, "I'm not hungry."

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

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

"It doesn't matter if you like it," Mommy said, "it's good for you."

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

"No..." Alisa sighed, before she could stop herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eat your dessert, little Dolly," Mommy ordered.

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

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

"It's fine," Mommy nodded. "Just give it to her."

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

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

Mommy hardly skipped a beat. "That's up to Clara. You're her Dolly. Ask her."

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

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

Alisa's Adventures in the Diaper Dimension - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - Spick and Span


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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah!" Clara agreed enthusiastically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She didn't get to play with any of her toys," Clara pointed out disappointedly.

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

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

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

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

"Okay, that's good!" Clara announced after a minute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clara blushed, looked uncomfortable and unhappy and having her little secret found out. "I'm sorry, Mommy..." she sniffed.

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

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

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

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

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

Diaper Dimension Fan-Art

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

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

Edit: And here's a cool alternate version.

Edit again: And here's a second picture! 

Alisa's Adventures in the Diaper Dimension - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Meeting Mommy


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

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

"Received consent," the voice chirped mysteriously. "Starting video feed."

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

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

Thwack!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was stupid, and pointless, but Alisa still automatically answered, "N-No..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alisa's Adventures in the Diaper Dimension - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - A Quiet Afternoon


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want out of here," she pouted.

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

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

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

"Did you have an accident?"

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

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

"I'm sorry!" Alisa squeaked. One spanking in a day was bad enough - she didn't want a second.

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

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

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

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

"No," she told the room finally. "I don't wanna see any of that!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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