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“Oh no,” Rachel whispered, looking down to see her skirt slowly receding up her legs, revealing more and more of her thighs. She reached down with a mitten covered hand to tug at the hem, hoping it was just a weird optical illusion. But the longer she looked, the more it became obvious that something was happening… the cuffs of her jacket were sliding up her arms at about the same rate as her skirt, and beneath she could feel her blouse squirming, writhing around against her skin like it was alive.
“This isn’t happening,” she tried to assure herself, praying it was a hallucination. But the more she tried to take deep breaths and relax, the more pronounced the problem became… her pantyhose melted off her legs between the ankle and the thigh. The bottom parts became thicker and gradually grew white and frilly—ankle socks, she realized to her horror. Her shoes were next, her stylish black heals flattening out and sprouting a dorky little buckle across the top. The toes rounded out, the leather became shiny, and by the time they stopped, Rachel realized they’d become an adorable pair of mary-janes, perfectly suited to a four year old.
“Oh my God!” she squealed desperately, her skirt inching further up her leg by the second. “Please stop!”
But the transformation continued at a steady pace, and Rachel had to suppress a scream when she noticed the charcoal color of her suit had developed a series of pink splotches that were quickly spreading. The fabric was changing, thick, hot wool becoming soft silk and satin, her jacket, blouse and skirt merging together, slowly altering itself into something new.
She felt her legs being spread, her thighs pushed apart by the bulging pad between them, which seemed to be growing thicker. Rachel realized, with mounting horror, that her diaper was pulsating, growing thicker in ever-expanding throbs under what was left of her pantyhose. She emitted a series of embarrassed squeaks when a frilly white petticoat began sprouting under her skirt.
Watching in the mirror, she fought back a scream as her new outfit began taking shape. It was short, coming down just below the waist, bunches of frilly white petticoats only serving to raise it higher, revealing her still expanding diaper beneath. The final remnants of her pantyhose turned to cloth, a ring of soft lace growing around each leg hole. There was a shifting, squirming feeling on the seat—Rachel turned, bleating dejectedly when she saw three rows of adorable ruffles budding across the back of her diaper-cover.
When it was finished, Rachel could just stare in the mirror and stammer—the dress was utterly infantile, an almost exact replica of something she might have worn when she was two; pink and white and covered in bows and lace, it was hemmed just below the bust and barely came down below the waistband of her baby-pants. Her diaper bulged absurdly beneath it, puffed out at the crotch, hips and waist like the cap of a giant mushroom. The petticoats raised it even further, and the frilly seat of her pamper was on full display. Beneath, her shiny black shoes and frilly ankle socks looked like something she’s stolen from a little girl’s closet. Once the outfit had settled into its final shape, a frilly pink Easter bonnet appeared on her head with a small pop, drawstrings tight under her chin.
“Oh! Oh no,” she said, trying to stay calm as she examined her humiliating new outfit in the mirror. “This can’t be happening,” she said aloud, in a quivering voice. As bad as things had been before, they were far worse now... even if she wasn’t dressed like a clown, she was still moments away from having an big messy accident in her diapers. How had things spun out of control so quickly? Mere minutes ago she was a sophisticated, professional woman. Perhaps she’d been forced into a compromising position, but her maturity was never in question. Now, in the space of mere seconds, her entire adult identity had been stolen from her, and the odds of getting home without completely humiliating herself seemed insurmountable.
“Well well.” She heard the Master’s voice behind her and spun around to see him standing in the corner, grinning malevolently. “I must say, Rachel: I’m very disappointed in you—though you do wear that outfit very well,” he said lustily. Rachel felt herself blushing hotly under her bonnet. She stammered, trying to think of something to say. The Master continued: “I thought you were a good girl, and here you are trying to cheat me! You’ve been so naughty—I’ve got a good mind to put you over my knee and give you a good spanking, young lady!”
Rachel gasped and stepped back, unconsciously reaching back to touch her thickly padded rump through her frilly baby pants. “No! Please,” she begged in an infantile whine. She pictured herself messing her diaper while she took a spanking over his knee in this gloriously silly outfit—she could see it as clearly as if she was watching it on TV, and the mere thought of it made her want to die from embarrassment. “Please listen! I—I wasn’t actually going to do it! I—I just wasn’t thinking! Please have mercy on me!”
He seemed to think it over for a long moment, and Rachel hovered on the edge of tears awaiting his answer. Finally he locked eyes with her. “OK, Rachel, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Instead of just giving you the spanking I think we both know you deserve, I’m going to give you a choice: If you stand there in front of me and mess your diaper, and I mean make an entertaining display out of it, I’ll change back your clothes—however, I won’t change your diaper, and since you’re forbidden to touch it yourself, that would mean spending the rest of the day in a loaded pamper.”
“What’s my other option?” she asked warily.
“You can go out there as you are and take your chances.” He smiled warmly at her, spreading his hands expectantly. “What’s it going to be, darling?”
Rachel stammered and stamped her foot, her dress flouncing to reveal her diaper and frilly baby pants. “That’s not fair!” she pouted, blushing when she realized how childish she sounded.
“Are you giving up?” he asked neutrally. She fumed and pouted for a long moment.
“No,” she finally spat, “but…”
“No buts, young lady,” he said firmly, “If you want to try your luck at staying clean, you need to sashay that cute, ruffled bottom out there right now… otherwise, you better get to messing those britches, young lady.”
Actually, the truth was that she didn’t really have much of a choice: she’d been holding it for too long as it was, and she’d more or less reached the end of the road anyway. Inside, her bowels raged and roared, the cramps becoming unbearable. Still Rachel couldn’t force herself to let go, couldn’t relinquish control like that.
Someone plunged a hot poker into her gut. Rachel doubled over and grasped her tummy—a hot, gooey mess surged out of her and filled the seat of her diaper. She emitted an involuntary squeal, her lips forming into an adorably shocked ‘O.’ The Master burst out laughing; Rachel blushed and grunted—another mushy brown mudslide announced itself with a moist, gooey squelching and slid into the back of her diapers. The seat of her baby-pants bulged under her petticoats, growing heavier and lumpier by the second.
“That’s a girl!” he encouraged, “turn around and show me how you fill your britches.”
She complied, slowly turning, bowlegged, to show of the bulging seat of her ruffled panties. A cramp pushed out another wave of sloppy mush nosily into her pamper uncontrollably, the back of her baby pants inflating visibly.
“That’s my good little girl,” he said condescendingly, reaching out and patting her ruffled bottom. “Push it all out for me.”
Rachel complied, closing her eyes and grunting shakily, desperate to get it over with. She exploded into her diaper with a sizable fart, the mess spreading across her buttocks. The thick, hot paste stretched the seat of her diaper to the limit, coated each cheek almost entirely and filling her butt-crack. Rachel was sure she’d never been such a mess in her entire life… but she spoke too soon, one more mushy installment exiting her body flatulently and still managing to find space to squish into her pamper. The Master laughed heartily.
“Very good darling—you followed Daddy’s instructions to the letter!” He reached forward and patted her bulging rump, squishing the mess against her bottom. Rachel groaned and shuddered… she realized that she was beginning to feel a shameful stirring in her loins once more.
She shot him an angry look. “Can I have my clothes back now?” she demanded, trying to keep her squishing down to a minimum.
Rachel looked down at herself— the clothes she’d picked out that morning had re-appeared exactly as they’d been before. She turned to examine herself in the mirror: it was as though the transformation had never occurred. Well, almost; she noticed that the extra big diaper remained, and she couldn’t help blushing when she saw the way it bulged against her skirt. A quick wiggle of her butt confirmed that the mess was still with her… the sensation of the hot, gooey pile in her pants squishing against her buttocks made her heart throb in her chest, and she felt her pussy moisten.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I left you in the extra big diaper—I don’t think the other one was adequate to contain your mess,” he said with a chuckle. “Keep the baby pants, too—think of them as a gift.”
The thought of wearing the infantile baby pants, with the lace and ruffled seat, beneath her professional attire, made her heart go all squishy and sent throbs of embarrassing arousal through her body. She chewed her lower lip and briefly wondered if she had time to sit and…
“Come on, darling,” the master said, interrupting her thoughts. He took her by the arm and gently lead her to the door, “you can’t hide in here all day… you’ve got to get back to the meeting!”
“That’s right!” he said, opening the door and ushering her out into the hallway, “you’d better move that stinky little butt!” he swatted her bulging, diapered bottom again. Rachel squealed, the mess squishing against her backside. With a groan and a shudder, she waddled her way down the hallway once more, the diaper crinkling in time with every step.