Squish Game: Round 1, Part 6

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, hypnosis, pants wetting, mental regression, masturbation/diaper sex, sissification, bondage, violence, strong language, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

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“No! P-Pwease! Gibe me anudder chance!” screamed Mike as he was dragged to an empty circle in the center of the area by his Mistress, Miley. She pushed him to his knees, forcing him to watch helplessly as two nurses approached them, one with a set of folded clothes in her hands.

Mike couldn’t make out what the clothes were, only that whatever the outfit was had long sleeves and was bright pink all over. He nearly started blubbering as the nurse unfurled it to reveal a straightjacket with the words, “Loser Baby” written in bold letter on its front.

Simultaneously, in spite of how much fear he currently felt, Mike cursed his horny brain for loving this scenario so much. This was something straight out of the erotica he loved to indulge in so much. Now, he was going to get the full sissy baby treatment whether he liked it or not.

The two nurses pulled him to his feet, while Miley proceeded to slide his arms through the front of the jacket. She then wrapped the sleeves tightly around him, forcing him to hug himself. With the straightjacket fully on, the nurses dropped him back to the ground while another nurse approached, this one holding a box that looked about big enough to hold a bowling ball.

With a gleeful expression sprawled across her face, Miley opened the box and took out something that looked eerily like a pair of VR goggles. “Sorry, Mikey Baby, I’m afraid this is goodbye forever,” she said, kneeling down to him and placing the headgear over his eyes.

“W-Wait! I-I stiww wanna pway!” were the final words that Mike would ever consciously say, as only a second later, Miley flipped on the headgear and tossed her subby baby back into a hypnotic world of feminized, babified bliss. A terrifying, crooked smile formed on his face as he lay on the dirt floor and dreamed his sissy baby dreams.

Stomping her way back toward the other Mistresses, Miley did her best to manage her outrage. After coming in third last year, to be out first was an utter embarrassment. She made as little eye contact with Blair, who no doubt was disappointed in her, as she allowed the nurses to escort her off of the game floor.

Meanwhile, watching from a distance was Lance, who smirked as his odds of winning increased. However, he wouldn’t be able to internally gloat for long, as his stomach let out a troubling groan. After seeing what happened to Mike, he figured using your diaper meant losing the game. As painful as it was to hold, the chance of ending up in diapers and frilly dresses for the rest of his life was more than enough for him to push through.

*CRACK!*

Lance’s eyes went wide as he heard the furious footsteps of someone fast approaching. Perched upon one of the monkey bars, he locked his arms and looked across the woodchip-covered area at Brett who had run onto the section he was in, and began his trek across one of the various monkey bar setups scattered around. “What is that idiot up to?” he thought, shaking his head.

“Wuh a dummy, am I wight?”

For the second time in under a minute, Lance’s heart skipped a beat due to a sudden intruder. This time, it was thanks to Lee, who had slyly snuck up on the quiet observe, enjoying the show of Brett struggling to shift across the monkey bars with his lower half swaddled up in a diaper. “I’be been fowwowing him ta see wuh appens. He tinks pwaying fo a bit in each of da sections ish how ta win.”

Calming himself down, Lance scoffed, realizing the person below him was no threat, “Ish dat so? An wuh do you tink?”

“Hmmm…dunno yet. Bud I figuwe he’s pwobabwy wwong,” snickered Lee, walking away from Lance as Brett finished his run on the monkey bars and began to take off towards the next section, “An when he’s wwong, maybe I can find out how ta actuawwy win. See ya awound, fwiend.”

Lance tilted his head sideways as Lee walked off. While he didn’t think Lee would pose too much of a threat, they were clearly more cunning than he’d given them credit for. Having seen them lurking around the back alleys of Brooklyn once or twice, he’d initially written them off as a junkie. But, much like Aaron, this would be another competitor to watch closely.

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Climbing up the latter for one of the slides, Brett was on a rampage across the complex. He’d been through four sections already and was nearing the completion of his fifth once he cleared this tube slide. He stifled a chuckle as he arrived at the top, where three slide entrances awaited. Slides had always been his favorite as a kid, after all. Without taking much time to think it over, he jumped down the blue slide.

“He’sh gone,” whispered Natalie, poking her head out of the green tube slide. She climb up the plastic pipe and turned around to help Aaron to his feet, who was tucked in behind her, “Da lass ting we need is anudder run-in wit dat mowon.”

Aaron nodded his head, “Agweed.” He peeked over the side of the tower, seeing Brett exit the bottom of the slide and take off from their location.

Meanwhile, Natalie kept her eyes trained on Mike in the center ring, trying to gather as much as she could from the fallen competitor. To her, the obvious answer of ‘he lost because he pooped his diaper’ was way too easy. From watching in the past, she knew the games were never that simple. Besides, if that’s all it was, then eventually they’d all lose on a long enough timeline. However, as she studied Mike for any clues, she came up empty-handed beyond the messy load in his pants.

“Fuq! Dis is geddin ush nowhewe! Dere hasta be sometin we’we missin!” said Natalie, clearly frustrated by how the first round was developing.

For Aaron, this is was a surprisingly immature and bratty moment for his stoic companion, who up until now had been nothing but a sheer force of silent intimidation. No doubt, her impatience was doing her in. Still, she had a point. “Tink. Can you wemembew anyting dat yo mishtress said?” he asked, believing that some sort of clue may have gone previously undetected.

Unfortunately, Natalie shook her head no. “I don tink my mishtress wikes me bery much. She bawewy said a wowd ta me befo da wound stawted. Wuh bout you?”

Leaning back against the tube slide, Aaron considered everything that Mistress had told him. Clearly, she’d spoken more than she was probably supposed to. Even so, with all the chaos that was happening, he couldn’t get his thoughts straight.

“UuuggghhH!”

Suddenly, both Aaron and Natalie were yanked from their train of thought as a scream broke out from nearby. They both peered over the edge of the slide’s platform, seeing a group of three guys cornering someone with the number “3” on their shirt. The person was curled up on the ground, clutching their stomach. Meanwhile, the man with an “8” on his shirt stepped forward from his buddies to stand directly over number three.

“Weww, weww, weww! Quite da pwedicament you in Terry. If onwy my shister cood see yo sowwy assh now,” said number eight as he raised his leg and kicked Terry while he was down.

The poor man fell to his side and held his hands up towards number eight, pleading, “Shawn, pwease. I didn’t mean to-AHHHHH!” He shrieked in immense pain as Shawn stepped on his exposed stomach, knowing exactly what such an action would do to him.

“Didn mean to fuq hew an dump hew! Ged fuqued Tewwy!” yelled Shawn, putting the majority of his weight into his left foot. It only took a few seconds for the expected result to sound off.

*SPLOOOOOOOOORRRRRT!!!*

Terry’s face went pale as a ghost as he felt the seat of his diaper expand. “N-NO! Dis isn appenin!” he said, trying to squirm out from under Shawn’s foot to no avail. Sadly, the damage was done, and no less than fifteen seconds later, Terry’s mistress was pulling Shawn off of him.

“You boys should know better than to rough house like this,” shouted the mistress, scolding the three boys, all of which stood with their heads down, feigning guilt. Her attention soon turned to Terry, who was cowering away from her. All she could do was smile and shake her head, “I had such high hopes for you.”

*PFFFFFLOOOOOOOOOORRRRT!!!*

“Eeeeep!” yelped one of the guys standing behind Shawn. The man with the number “5” on his shirt fell to his knees, his eyes watering.

Shawn and the man with a “10” on his shirt backed away quickly, disgusted by their now former alliance member. “Dude, Reggie, wuh da fuq?!”

With his eyes darting around at everyone staring at him, Reggie’s heart began to race. Had he really just lost so suddenly. No! He refused to admit defeat like this. Quickly moving to his feet and paying no mind to the mushy load in his pants, he took off running.

Panic gripped his brain as Reggie looked for some way, any way to save himself. To find some puzzle to solve or task to complete. But there was nothing. Just row after row of childish playground equipment.

Turning back to where they had entered, Reggie sprinted over and began clawing at the metal door that barred him from escaping. “I don wanna pway anymo! Led me outta hewe!” he screamed, his voice echoing loud enough to be clearly understood from the opposite side of the room.

“That’s quite enough, young lady!”

Reggie collapsed on the ground in front of the door as he heard his mistress’s voice directly behind him. He knew there was nothing he could do now.

“Pathetic. There’s no way out, you stupid baby trash,” said the mistress before walking away and waving the nurses forward, “Have fun in diapers the rest of your life, loser. I’m done with you.”

Reggie’s cries were soon muffled as the nurses bound him up in a straightjacket matching Mike’s and led him to the loser’s circle where the two other pamper packers were positioned. As the three babies laid moaning and writhing against their headgear and restraints, the other nine mistresses all wondered who would be the first to figure it out after three had already failed.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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