Karen’s Stepmom Had Packed Her Away To Some Weird Summer Camp, Despite Karen Being Almost Finished

Such a naughty little baby, now you can pout all you want as you fill your diaper in bed

Advanced Dungeons & Diapers: Chapter 1

This is the start of a sequel to one of my longest commissions, "Dungeons & Diapers". It's written to work effectively as a standalone novel, but follows directly on the plot of the original work, which you can read here.

Also it's set in the Pathfinder 1e universe, not any DnD plane. Nyeh. You can't tell me what to do. ...

The smell of the Wizard’s destruction carried on the wind far past the edge of Verity, the eastern capital, long before the damage could be seen.

Sandra knew they were walking into trouble and danger of their greatest enemy’s doing. Her whole party knew it. The Wizard had caused them untold humiliations as an afterthought, and prolonged exposure to his magic had taught them the telltale signs. With one sniff of the air, they knew it was him.

The distinctive, sharp smell of baby powder left little room for misidentification.

Turning back in the saddle to look at her party, Sandra swished her tail, trying not to show any uncertainty. “If anyone wants to turn back, I understand. There’s no reason to throw ourselves into danger without cause.”

Quinn didn’t need to answer. The brawny half orc feared little, and even when he had trepidation, he kept it hidden for the others. His protective instinct didn’t break here, and he shook his head.

Tarja trembled on the horse next to Quinn, but not out of fear–rather, the curse that had degraded her fine motor control left her constantly shaking unless she could lie down, get on all fours, or briefly dispel the effects. Mounted on a saddle, she had to cling to the horn and let Quinn lead. She hardly looked like the most lethal Ranger Sandra had ever met, but when she was free of the curse, she could track, hunt, and aim a bow with legendary precision.

Even cursed as she was, she’d never back down from danger. Taking the effort to enunciate clearly, she said, “I’m no’ running.” Her words carried a slight lisp, like a toddler still struggling to make the letters come out right–another side effect of her curse.

Finally, Hadrian. The party’s own wizard, and their most thorough source of information on the Wizard’s magic. Clad in a latex bodysuit that bulged around his hips, and with a pacifier lodged between his lips that he couldn’t remove, he had the most visible curses of them all.

His gaze was on the horizon, hard and furious. He didn’t need to speak to communicate, not when his feelings were this clear.

They were going to Verity, no matter what had happened there, no matter the danger.

Sandra shifted in her seat again, noting a slight squelch beneath her pants. Her diaper was full–and now that she’d noticed, she picked up a slight foul stench mingling with the baby powder odor. The diaper would self clean before they got to the city, so it didn’t concern her much.

Still, it was a reminder of the Wizard’s lightest, least invasive curses–he’d stolen her potty training more than a year prior, and it had stayed stolen. If he led an assault against a city, she shuddered to think what he could have done to the populace.

It wasn’t long before they crested a rise and, finally, came into view of the city. Verity’s walls stood proud and unbreached, and most of the homes, businesses, and buildings seemed to be intact.

From one point, though, billowing clouds of white wafted up. Plumes of baby powder, shooting from a space where the great Temple of Calistria had once stood. Now, the structure seemed to be made of geometric pastels, twisted as a thousand child-safe squares of foam flooring had been frozen in the middle of an explosion.

Pulling up his mount next to Sandra, Hadrian gestured at his pacifier urgently. Reaching to the side, she pulled it free.

“Serendipity,” he said, “She’s–”

“In the temple,” Sandra finished. “I know.”

He didn’t wait for further words or confirmation, but spurred his horse onwards, galloping as fast as the mount would take him.

Sandra couldn’t blame him, even if she doubted there was much they could do. Hadrian had fallen head-over-high-heels with a priestess performer of the temple. He wouldn’t slow for anything while he knew she could be in danger.

The others followed soon after, matching Hadrian’s speed so they didn’t lose him on the road to Verity’s gates. As they grew closer, Sandra got a better look at the damage–she could make out distinct shapes, but the scale was all off. One side of a baby crib, bars painted pastel blue, seemed to be twenty feet long or more and hovered above the debris. An enormous mobile, so large that the plush toys dangling from it were to-scale with the animals those plushies resembled, spun slowly.

Contrasting with the openly juvenile elements, she also saw a large plug, tapered at the base, large enough that it could only be practically used by an elder dragon with a very particular set of kinks.

If Sandra had any doubts, that confirmed it. Only the Wizard of Paraphilia would mix infantile and erotic objects with such a tasteless disregard for dignity.

Hadrian was babbling at the gate–literally, his pacifier had returned in the fifteen minutes it’d taken to ride there–and Sandra had to pull up next to him and address the guards. “We’re working for the guild,” she said, leaning over to free her friend’s lips again. After removing the pacifier, she continued, “We have business with the Calistrians.”

“The temple’s…” one of the guards said, scratching his head as he looked them up and down, first at Hadrian’s pacifier and latex bodysuit, then at Quinn’s ample breasts, to Sandra, an elf with a dragon like tail that twitched to emphasize her impatience. At least they’d managed to clear up a couple of the more awkward things–Sandra could at least pull her clothes down to cover her diaper properly, hiding the perpetual peek she’d been stuck with for a while, and Quinn had managed to find a caster who could permanently revert his size back to normal. It could have been worse.

Shaking off his confusion, the guard explained, “Eh…the temple’s got wrecked like you all. Not sure you’ll be able to do any business there.”

“We can help,” Sandra insisted, sliding the guild seal from her pocket to show him. “Let us pass, quickly.”

Shrugging, the guard nodded and stood back, allowing the four of them to ride through the gates.

To Hadrian’s chagrin, they couldn’t just gallop up main street–Verity was a big enough city that, even with a crisis in plain view, life had to go on. Merchants had to sell their merchandise, beggars had to beg, scoundrels had to scound. Their horses helped them navigate up the streets more quickly, but she could see the frustration build on Hadrian’s face as they got closer and closer, stymied by the thick press of busy people in the streets.

Finally, they came into view of the temple, and Hadrian leapt free of the saddle. Stumbling on his heels for a moment, he ran across the cobblestone street, up to the place where the temple entrance had once stood.

The walls were replaced with the same pastel-painted slightly foam substance. Where there had once been grand doors decorated with symbols of Calistria, the Savored Sting, there was now a large flap, more akin to something an animal would use.

Sandra pulled up behind him, bringing her mount to a nickering stop, and said, “We need to use cauti–”

Hadrian ran in through the flap.

“Damn.” Sandra jumped down from her own horse, taking a moment to tie it off to the hitching post, dealing with Hadrian’s as well.

Quinn began to help Tarja down and deal with their own mounts as well, but Sandra stopped him.

“You stay out here.” Sandra said. “If this place has some effect on the people inside, we can’t all just rush in. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, start finding a way to get Hadrian and I outside without any collateral damage.”

“Be safe, ‘Andwa,” Tarja lisped, before Sandra slipped under the flap, conjuring an umbral knife in her hands–she’d be ready for anything.

Inside, the grand hall of the temple had once been home to a massive stage, where scantily-dressed clerics would flaunt their goods in exchange for tithe. Calistria was a goddess of lust, after all, it made sense.

Now, where poles and stages had once been, cages and hard points floated in the air, trapping priests and worshipers alike. The sky could be seen above–the roof was floating far too high to fully shield from the elements, and the various bizarre structures Sandra had seen from afar loomed above them.

A foul smell hung in the air, the results of the curses and time that had warped the former holy place. Diapers were everywhere Sandra looked, wrapped around people of all genders and ancestries, most soiled to the point of leaking. Pacifiers, too, were a constant–held in place with leather and magic, so that the victims couldn’t spit them out, mumble, or even speak.

Some priests had their hands tied far above their heads, leaving them standing, desperate, unable to rest or relax. Sandra met their pleading eyes, though their words got distorted into helpless mumbling beneath their pacifiers.

She approached one. “Hold still,” she whispered, “Let me try…”

Reaching up, she touched the clasp holding the pacifier in place. She could plainly detect magic on it, and knew it had to be enchanted, but perhaps–

Her brain fogged for a moment, and she staggered back, falling to the ground. Her brain fuzzed, befuddled by magic. When she blinked and regained full control of her thoughts, she realized she’d begun suckling her thumb, and that her diaper–which had self cleaned not ten minutes prior–was suddenly sagging and full again, not that it could make the room smell any worse.

Shaking her head, Sanda stood, staggering for a moment before regaining her balance.

“I…” she said. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

The priest’s eyes didn’t show understanding, just desperation to be free. Regretfully, Sandra looked around further, careful not to touch anyone.

Other priests were in their own predicament. Some, trapped in cages or cribs, were cuffed spread eagle. Still others sat on adult-sized rocking horses that never fell still, wrists tied to handles and feet to the base, forced to shift back and forth, squelching their diapers interminably. Going by the slight bzzz sound filling the air, Sandra guessed more than a few had toys inside their diaper, torturing them in other ways that couldn’t be seen as easily.

There were more restraints, too, in patterns and configurations she didn’t know. X-shaped crosses. Spanking benches–though, mercifully, she saw no enchanted paddles going to town. Two particularly unfortunate clerics were tied to each other, wrist-to-ankle, so that their faces were buried in each other’s diapers.

She counted dozens of people in the grand temple room, all bound, all unable to move or flee. Some were faces she recognized. Some were strangers. All were helpless.

“Hadrian?” Sandra called, picking her way through the helpless, whimpering victims.

“Back here!” he called, voice carrying from a rear door.

She followed the sound. In the former backstage, it was less populated, but the cribs and cursed people inside were just as helpless. Hadrian was there, but as she stepped in, he looked from face to face, crib to crib, then turned and ran out the room.

Sandra followed, urgently, chasing after him as he went to the once-and-no-longer rectory. Here, there were no people, only changing supplies and baby food stacked on shelves, piles and piles of each, a trove of necessities for anyone who’d been cursed into diaper dependence.

Hadrian continued to run, and Sandra chased after him. “Wait, Hadrian–”

“I have to find her,” he called back, moving down a back hall, to the priest’s quarters. More cribs, more faces, but not the face he wanted to see. Up, then, to the library–now a play room, with baby books and lewd folios, baby toys and vibrating wands all scattered around as though they belonged together. A few priests, glassy eyed, were going through the motions of stacking blocks or organizing rings onto a post, seemingly without any control over their actions.

More desperate than ever, Hadrian continued his flight. He checked the kitchen, now filled with high chairs, and the restrooms, now filled exclusively with changing tables.

Nothing.

“She’s…” Hadrian panted, leaning against a changing table for support. “She’s not here.”

“Maybe she was out on business,” Sandra suggested. “Gwyndomere relies on her for jobs.”

“Gwyndomere’s gone, too,” Hadrian said. “He took–The Wizard took them.”

Sandra looked back out the changing room door, to the open field of restrained worshippers. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Hadrian said, a growl building in his throat. “But we’re not going to let this sta–”

“Hey!”

A voice called from the grand hall. Someone who could speak, not bound up by the curses and restraints.

Sandra stepped out, looking for the source of the voice. A man in white and gold robes. Sandra recognized the colors, indicating a god or goddess of healing, but couldn’t remember the divinity’s name.

“We’re with the guild,” Sandra said. “I’m–”

“Sandra Cassidy,” the cleric replied, stepping closer. He was older, with a neatly trimmed grey beard and a weary expression. “I know who you are. My name is Barro, I’m a priest of Aesocar. You shouldn’t be in here.”

“These people need help,” Sanda gestured, while mentally snapping a proverbial finger. (Aesocar! That’s the god I was thinking of.)

“We’re finding ways to do that,” Barro said, “But it’s dangerous. The pacifiers provide food and water, keeping them alive, but we haven’t yet found a way to get them down safely. They could be like this for weeks, and unless you know how to dispel it, there’s nothing for you to do but fall into a trap or erase your own mind by mistake.”

“I know how to work around the Wizard’s cruelty,” Sandra said.

“And you know how dangerous he is,” the cleric replied. “But–”

“Wait,” Hadrian said. “How do you know it could be weeks? When was the temple hit?”

The cleric shifted, uncomfortably, looking back at the door. “We should step outside–”

“What happened?” Hadrian demanded, stalking forward. “How long has it been like this?”

“This temple was hit this morning,” Barro said. “Eight members of the clergy are still unaccounted for, but…”

Sandra understood. “This isn’t the only one.”

“Four temples in eight days. The Wizard has been busy. And…it could be much, much worse than this.” He looked down and to the side. “My order was hit. Aesocar’s great hospital–the wizard rendered most of the finest healers in the realm to sadistic torments, turning their healing magic into cruel sources of pain.”

“Let’s go outside,” Sandra finally said.

Careful and reluctant, they stepped around the helpless, moaning victims, out into the fresh air.

“Four temples,” Sandra repeated. “What’s he doing?”

“We think, trying to get something.” Barro hesitated. “He’s taken the high priest of each, and several of their highest ranked assistants.”

“Serendipity,” Hadrian whispered.

“Gwyndomere,” Sandra added, thinking of the high priest’s power. If the Wizard had taken Gwyndomere, rather than coming in and attacking the temple while Gwyndomere was gone, then that implied danger and power beyond what she’d already feared.

“What’s going on?” Quinn asked, seeing them walk out.

“Danger and trouble,” Sandra started. “We’re going to need to be careful and decide our next move cautiously, something big and complicated is coming, and–”

“No,” Hadrian cut in. “It’s not complicated at all. We’re going to find the wizard, and when we do, we’re going to kill him.”

...

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“Yeah, I think I’ve reached capacity, so better get on it and change me before Brad shows up!“

“What’s with that face? It was your idea for me to wear diapers, and you agreed with me saying I’d only do it if you played along with my fetishes as well. It’s not my fault that I - and my lover - enjoy me being diapered more than you like being cucked and locked in chastity! So come on, Take a big whiff of it and give me my change. Brad might like ‘unpacking’ me before he fucks me senseless, but unlike you, he’s not a shit-sniffing freak!“

Na-na-na-na-na! You’re stuck in diapers! Hahaha! I love seeing you reduced to this. It’s amazing what the regression centers can do, isn’t it honey? I didn’t realise how powerful hypnosis could be. You’re basically just a big baby now!

Awww, you don’t think so? You think you’re still a man? You’re still a grown-up? That’s funny, because I didn’t realize grown men still sucked their thumbs. I didn’t realize they walked with a silly toddle wherever they went. I didn’t realize they spoke in an adowable baby voice all da time. And I definitely didn’t realize they squatted down and made stinkies in their diapers while their girlfriends talked to them!

Hahaha! You actually couldn’t tell, could you?! Oh my God, this is perfect. You were messing your diapee without even knowing it! Sorry honey, but your days as an adult are over. Sending you to the regression center was the best decision I ever made. Cry all you like stinky pants! These changes are permanent.

Messy Caption Index

@babyclaire​ recently requested a list of messy content, and so here it is at last! It’s probably not exhaustive, but I hope the links are useful anyway. I’ll try to get together a messy story index too before long!

Keiko and the Bully

Showtime for Daphne

Baby Cassie at Play

Tessa’s Tribulations

Daphne’s Latest Patient

Auntie’s Little Stinker

Odette and Odile

Carmen’s Conditioning

One Dirty Date with Darren

Messy Training Tips

Baby Beckie

Sophie Makes a Stinky

Dreams of a Dirty Dolly

Betty’s the Boss

An Icky Orgasm for Ellie

Naomi’s Bet

Life with Auntie

Angel Dreams

Sheila and the IMP

Tiffany’s Tummy

A Date with Erika

Mona’s Messmaker

You might wonder what your doing here. You seem scared and distraught. Well being kidnapped can have that effect on you.

You remember reblog those tumblr pages “reblog if you want to be diaper dependent “ or “I dare you to reblog this post it ,will make you urinary incontinence and dependent on diapers for life“ and my favorite “ reblog this post if you fantasize about being kidnapped and diapered against your will”. Well no more fantasize about it, today it be comes a reality.I monitor all and follow all who reblog my post. You know you be more careful who you talk to on the internet , there a lot of weird psycho people out there.

Your just lucky I’m not one of those people. I’m like fairy godmother, I grant wishes for people.

Don’t worry you will feel a little discomfort. The numbing gel will help things. You be restrained, and your legs , will be in stirrups for safety. At any point you don’t want proceed just tell me “stop” and I will.

Oh are you trying to say something? It hard to make out with that huge ball gag in your mouth.

Oh I see , your so excited to proceed you can barely contain enthusiasm. Now !!now !!you don’t want to make a mistake, you need to calm down so I can proceed.

First I’m going to slowly insert this micro optical camera into the head of your penis. I’m going to be able see if there any abnormalities in your urethra duct with build in camera in the end. Then if we see any abnormalities I will be to pinch them a use a build claws and use a special laser to cut them out.

Then when I reach that pesky sphincter muscle in the neck of bladder , the muscle that holds all that yellow urine back. I’m going so gently carve away at it with my tiny laser. I’m to cause the muscle not function anymore it will remain open so urine can dribble out slowly, and diapers will be requirement for life.

Bondage Story/Caption Index

The other day, a follower was chatting with me about my captions and stories with bondage and BD/SM themes, and it sounded like an index of some of those posts might be helpful. (Because – let's face it – Tumblr's tools for finding old posts are crap.) So here we go!

Obviously these stories also include a lot of other themes besides bondage, restraints, gags, etc., so do be forewarned. If you don't like hypnosis, pet play, forced regression, diaper use, etc., then maybe these aren't for you. But then again, in that case why would you be following me anyway?

Captions:

Rosie's New Role

Odette's Reprogramming

A New Career for Brielle

Shockingly Pleasurable

Medicating Melissa

Good Pet for Nancy

Drink Up, Little Effie

Gulp, Gulp!

Messy, Messy Carmen

Karma's a Bitch

Going Too Far

Regress and Re(s)train

An Unexpected Discovery

The New Doll

FaceTiming with George

Therapy for Jalisa

Binding the Blonde

Training the Dominatrix

Trouble with the Ex

How to Be a Good Personal Assistant

Anya in Charge

A Sissy's Education

Troubles for the Intern

Benny Gets Bossed

Good Night, Agent Addison

Dribbling Little Daphne

Bound for Max's Pleasure

Playing with the New Toy

Jeffie's Reeducation

Koko: Maid to Cum

Save Me, Charles!

Elaine's Intruder (Part One | Part Two)

Roxanne's New Patient (Part One | Part Two | Part Three)

Brittany's Baby

Beth's New Halloween Costume

Cheating Never Pays

Rules for Baby

Wife into Pony

Audrey

Christmas with Ashley

Mommy Knows How to Discipline

Jake's New Toy

Hush, Lucy, Hush

Fight, Little Baby

Stories:

The Date, Part Two

Diapered, Desperate, and Denied

Loose Lips

Hush, Little Stacy

A Surprise Checkup

Hindsight

Promises Kept

Whispers in the Night

Replaced... or Repurposed?

Silence is Golden, But Duct Tape Is Silver

Bonding Time, Part Two

"Oh, um… what was that? You're with who?"

Angela pressed her phone closer to her ear, her attention focused on the staticky masculine voice emanating from the tiny speaker. "Medical research… checking in… survey… if you have time… gift card…"

She sighed. But then, with a resigned glance around the empty bedroom room, nodded to her invisible caller. "Uh, sure. Sure, I guess I can do that." She bounced gently in place, her half-naked body swaying gracefully as she maintained her balance. "What's the first question?"

"Uhh… oh. That? Really?"

Her eyes dropped in a sudden flash of self-consciousness, and her fingers fidgeted at the plastic waistband of her gaily decorated diaper. "Uh, yeah. Completely incontinent." A pause, and then a shake of the head. "No- not really. No medication- Nope, nothing else. Just… yeah. Just the… what you said. 'Protective briefs'."

Her mouth twisted into a wry smile at the phrase, and again she glanced downward – this time in silent amusement at the odd euphemisms folks loved to use for an ordinary diaper. "Umm… three times a day? Sometimes four." Another pause, while her fingers strayed downward and probed unconsciously at the cotton and plastic bunched between her naked thighs. A bit wet. Nothing major. "No, not really. Just a little chafing now and then, but nothing serious." Another pause. "Oh, relationship? Yeah, married."

On and on it went, question after probing question. Her family history. Her hobbies. Whether and how her condition interfered with them. Occupation. And so on, and so forth, as the clock ticked on and her patience grew ever more thin.

But finally came a truly unexpected question: one that brought the already awkward conversation to a full stop. Angela hesitated, eyes flicking downward and back as she considered her response. "Uhh…" Fingers slipped over the sensitive regions between her legs, so amply protected by the thick garment she wore. Then… with a naughty grin and flushing cheeks, she leaned closer and spoke.

"No, actually, my husband loves it. Tell you the truth, we actually both love it."

She grinned to herself, and now her fingers were steadily stroking at her padded crotch. "Sure! Umm, lots of reasons. I don't have to run to the bathroom constantly, for one thing. And, um, I don't have to worry about accidents anymore." She paused, then shrugged as if her polite discretion had entirely evaporated along with her patience. "And, I mean… have you ever worn one, mister? They're freaking comfortable! And listen: when you feel everything just let go and you absolutely soak them full… uuhnnnn…!"

It was nothing short of a full-throated moan of undisguised pleasure. A devious grin spread across her face as she cocked her head, listening to the stuttering fellow on the other end trying to recover his composure. "Everything okay there?" A few seconds paused, and then she grew thoughtful once more. "Oh, okay. What I'd like to see in future products? Hmm, let me think…"

She gave her diaper a quick squeeze, then broke silence once more. "Well, there's two things, actually! First off, these diapers of mine need to be a heck of a lot cheaper – like, half what they are now. And then… I mean, since you're asking…" Here she trailed off, and once again a devilish grin flashed across her face. "Honestly, I think they need to be much thicker, and far less discreet. Because after all, mister… when a naughty girl like me piddles in her pants non-stop, don't you think she deserves to have everyone know about it? Don't you think she ought to be absolutely humiliated for being such a wet, dirty little diaper girl?"

She laughed then – a full-throated, lusty laugh of confidence and derision at her stunned interviewer. "Aww, what's the matter? Done with your questions already? Or did you want me to tell you more about how badly I need my diapers?"

Perhaps it was for the best that the poor fellow on the other end couldn't see Angela once she hung up and tossed her phone onto the bed beside her. Though then again… the way she began shamelessly grinding her padded crotch into her defenseless pillow would at the very least have been…

Educational, perhaps? Or at the very least, informative. Because maybe, just maybe, he'd have learned that dealing with a disability could actually be a hell of a lot of fun.

Image Credit: DiaperGal.com

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