Diapered at the Dentist: Part 8 (Conclusion)

The following story contains adult content and is intended only for adult readers over the age of 18. Any characters depicted in adult situations are over the age of 18. This story is entirely fictional and has been written and shared for entertainment purposes only.

I begin to stir. I can’t see. I can’t move.

Am I still asleep? Is this some sort of dream?

I try harder to move, feel the resistance of the skin-tight binds around my wrists, ankles, tummy.

My memory of the day returns in a flash: The dentist office.

Was I still at the dentist office? Still blindfolded and splayed out on the dental chair for them while they do their work in my mouth? It seems so.

But I can’t hear anything. It’s deathly quiet under the darkness of my blindfold.

Even stranger, I can’t feel the dentist’s tools in my mouth anymore. I try to move my tongue, and realize than in fact, I now can’t feel my mouth at all! It’s like the whole area has lost all sensation. I can’t even tell if my mouth is open or closed!

I try to lift my bottom… squish. I cringe as I still feel my poopy diaper on my bum. Great… it seems that my bottom still has full sensation, making sure I don’t forget about my humiliating poopy diaper for one second.

But other than that… it’s like I’m suspended in blackness. I can feel nothing of the world, only the bonds around my wrists and the poopy diaper under my bum.

My mess is cold and squishy now. Forcing me to feel the filth of my accident pressed into every nook and cranny between my legs with renewed disgust.

Suddenly, I recognize a strange pressure building…

There’s a slight discomfort growing in my tummy area. I try to alleviate it by twisting my waist, but my body is too tightly secured with the restraints to do even that…

The pressure builds and builds until finally…

Hisssssssssssssssssssssssssss

The dam breaks, and my bladder releases a fresh river of hot piss into my poopy diaper.

I’m embarrassed… but also can’t ignore the unexpected waves of strange, pleasurable warmth suddenly radiating outward from my diaper as I pee. It’s almost… euphoric.

Part of me knows its filthy and perverse.

But the other part of me can’t help but giggle like a happy baby at the unexpectedly pleasant sensation of the hot pee warming my diaper’s cooling poopy mess. Not to mention the wonderful relief from the pain of my full bladder.

I suddenly succumb to an unexpected surge of naughty tingling in my groin.

I realize my stream is finished… but the tingling, naughty pleasure is now only growing!

It’s rhythmic… gentle… wet.

I squirm… and realize something’s happening in my diaper!

A gentle pressure rubbing and pushing and pulling and squeezing my squishy diaper against my lady parts.

In my blind, immobilized state, I can only recognize the sensation as a hand. Someone’s hand rhythmically squishing and massaging the crotch of my naughty, warm and wet diaper.

The sensual tingling is getting more and more intense. I start to pant and squirm with intense physical pleasure. I feel myself just about to let out a rapturous moan when suddenly—

The hand leaves. The pleasure halts.

I go still, waiting for the hand to return.

It doesn’t.

I sit in the darkness… waiting.

The pleasure in my groin is quickly fading, much to my dismay. I’m desperate for the hand to return, though I don’t even know who or what it really was. I’m struggling now to even remember where I am and why.

I wonder again if any of this is even real. What if the stimulation I felt was entirely in my imagination? Just a figment of this strange dream?

I try to squeeze my legs together, my groin desperate for more stimulation, but my ankle cuffs prevent any such movement.

In desperation, I prepare to beg whoever or whatever is responsible for more. I open my mouth to call out—

But no sound comes out.

Confused, I try to shout out again, this time even louder. But again—

No sound leaves my mouth. I hear nothing as I try to make noise.

I try again and again, focusing with all my might to just force an audible groan through my throat…

But still, only absolute silence.

I feel a sudden chill of terror.

I realize… I’ve somehow become like a brain in a jar. A helpless captive consciousness, surrounded by infinite empty darkness. Permanently deprived of any world to interact with. Helplessly lost in an abyss of black nothingness, unable to see, move, touch, speak…

My terror turns to panic. I begin to physically struggle against my restraints.

I pull and tug and yank with all my might, leveraging the absolutely minuscule amount of room I have to wrench my limbs as hard as I can against the suffocating web of straps holding me down.

I gasp and bellow from my vocal cords as hard as I can, again and again, desperately attempting to make some noise into the vast abyss I’m floating in, despite still not ever hearing even a peep of sound leave my mouth.

This must be a dream, I say to myself in breathless panic. I’m trapped in a dream.

No, not a dream. A nightmare. A nightmarish abyss. So all-consuming, I can’t even hear myself scream.

I thrash harder and harder, scream in silence again and again, both to the point of pain and burning. The restraints seem indestructible. I realize they’ll never break. But I only continue thrashing even harder, the pain of the cuffs against my body still infinitely better than the nothingness of the sensationless void…

I spasm and writhe and panic and sob and yank and scream and gasp and thrash and…

It's back. The pleasure in my diaper.

I stop cold in my tracks. The incredible sensation against the crotch of my diaper has suddenly surged back to life. It now feels even more clear to me that it’s a hand. A gentle hand is on my mushy, warm diaper, kneading, squeezing, calming, rubbing…

My fear evaporates.

I’m overcome with nothing but overwhelming erotic pleasure. The stimulation is even more intense than before. My filthy diaper is filled to the brim with my naughty, baby mess, and the massage animates the mess in my diaper in the most filthy of ways…

Squish. Smush. Splurt. Splosh.

But I don’t care. My previous silent screams have now become silent moans of pleasure. The stimulation is euphoric. Indescribable. It entrances me, enslaves me, and all I want is more and more and—

It’s gone.

Once again, the pleasure abruptly stops. The hand has disappeared.

Once again, I’m left silently gasping in the darkness.

But this time… I keep my panic under control.

I take deep breaths… and wait. This time, I have hope that the mesmerizing touch will return. I need it to return.

In the silent blackness, more of my mind awakens. I begin to recall the details of the dentist office more clearly.

I think about my teeth, and the work they were doing.

I try to concentrate on my mouth. Trying to feel something…

And then I do!

Just barely. The sensation is dull. It’s like all the feeling in my head has been turned to the absolute lowest notch, with everything above my neck completely numbed.

But now, if I concentrate, I can just barely detect something in my mouth, something else on my face…

After a little longer, I start to recognize my head being moved and adjusted, my mouth being probed and examined, foreign objects steadily going in and out of my oral cavity…

What is going on? Have I been drugged? My face shot up with too much novocain? My body sedated with numbing gas, IV anesthesia, or some strange twilight cocktail?

But no, that can’t be. As I concentrate on my memories from earlier, I’m certain I never received any medicine…

My worries begin to return. I feel a fresh flood of terror about my utter helplessness and confusion.

I feel myself once again just about to start panicking when suddenly—

It’s back!

Oh, the wonderful erotic messy pleasure… it’s back.

I gasp with relief and and bliss as the rubbing, tickling, soggy-diaper fondling returns in full force.

More memories from earlier come flooding back. And I now remember Erin. The hygienist.

The way she touched me in my dirty diaper, how she saw me furiously rubbing my pussy the moment she turned her back…

It must be her. It must be Erin giving me this indescribable erotic pleasure.

I picture her face. Staring down at me in my chair. Her big, helpless baby. Strapped down and splayed out with her pathetic, stinky, poopy diaper on full display.

I’m once again enraptured, silently moaning and gasping. I squeeze my pussy, kegel and hump against her magical hand with every bit of freedom my restraints allow.

Her touch is magical. Euphoric. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more!

And she knows I want her touch. She knew exactly why I furiously rubbed my diapered pussy off before while she stood next to me. Despite the spanking she watched my Mommy give me afterward.

And now she’s giving it to me as a divine gift. An act of supreme penance. The ultimate apology for allowing my Mommy to catch me doing it earlier…

Or perhaps instead, it’s not a gift at all.

Perhaps it’s a punishment.

A filthy, erotic, sexual diaper punishment.

Punishing me for being her naughty, naughty, stinky baby diaper girl…

Warmth explodes from my pussy. I feel my clit lurching closer and closer…

I’m just on the verge of finally climaxing and…

It’s gone again.

I gasp for air, almost happy for the break, despite still being deprived a climax.

I’m no longer surprised that it stops. Just painfully eager for it to return and more determined than ever to have it make me cum.

My awareness shifts back to the dull sensations inside and around my mouth.

In my lips, teeth, throat, there is constant dull pushing and pulling, suction and pressure, wetness and prodding…

I feel drool pouring out of my mouth, dribbling down my face, getting gruffly wiped up, then more dribbling out again…

The more I pay attention, the more it feels like things are being… put together around my face. Screwed, fitted, bolted. Like metal scaffolding for a soon to be erected building.

In the silent darkness, it doesn’t take long for my fear to start to resurface.

My mind returns to painting terrifying images in my head. My confusion and powerlessness swirls around me. And just when it’s about to once again drive me to panic…

The hand returns.

And I pant like a puppy, submitting totally to the unbearable erotic pleasure.

Rubbing, kneading, squeezing. Hitting exactly all the right places in my diapered pussy. Working me and my sodden, soiled pamper into a perverse lather.

And I find myself being pushed closer and closer toward an unimaginable climax—

Only for it to leave again at just the last moment. Plunging me deeper into the depths of my desperation for its embrace.

Again and again, I’m edged closer and closer…

Ruthlessly swung back and forth from the mysterious horrors of my mouth, to the unimaginable erotic pleasure between my legs…

Until finally, as I silently screech and moan and beg in absolute filthy drooling torment for her to just let me finally do it…

Just let me finally spray my squishy girl-cum into my naughty, filthy diaper…

I arch my back against my binds with every fiber of my being…

And explode.

“Aaaaaaghgughg!!!” I scream at the top of my lungs, erupting with the most intense climax ever imagined.

I wail and moan and screech and writhe.

The waves of euphoria pound against every inch of my body, turning me inside out with unfathomable physical pleasure.

I scream so loud, to my surprise, my exploding orgasmic screams are even just barely audible!

And my whole body trembles with absolute exhaustion…

As I collapse back into the dental chair and go completely limp.

I pant for air for what feels like several minutes. I’m soaking wet with sweat. My throat is sore from silent shrieking.

But now, as the indescribable orgasm begins to fade…

I’m once again left in the darkness. Complete and total silent darkness.

I suddenly feel my absolutely filthy, piss and poop soaked diaper again…

And it’s absolutely disgusting.

I suddenly want out of it more than I’ve ever wanted out of anything in my life. But of course, I can’t even touch it. Let alone find a way to take it off. I’m still utterly trapped in its filthy, sloshing mess.

As my erotic intoxication evaporates… I’m suddenly flooded with pounding waves of unspeakable, humiliating shame.

An unexpected wave of clarity comes over me. And I’m forced to consider questions I couldn’t even fathom just moments ago…

What exactly just happened? Did I really just… orgasm in my poopy diaper?

While sitting in the dentist chair?

Who was touching me? Was it anybody? Are there others around me right now? Did they see what happened? Do they know?

My skin starts to crawl with shame and horror and panic as I realize just what a naughty, filthy, stinky, pathetic, diaper-pooping baby I am…

No! I suddenly say to myself. No, this isn’t real. It’s just a bad dream. It has to be! This is all just a strange, medicine-induced dream. None of this can be real!

I close my eyes beneath my blindfold, and try to once again surrender to the blackness, praying to return to sleepy non-consciousness…

But instead…

Both of my legs are suddenly lifted high into the air.

My heart stops. I have no idea what’s going on.

Then I feel it. It’s being lightly tapped against my pale butt cheeks. It’s unmistakable.

The hairbrush. My Mommy’s hairbrush. The one she so ruthlessly spanked me with earlier…

In utter horror, I realize… I’m about to be spanked.

* * *

“Oww! Oww! Owwwww!” I painfully scream into the void’s special form of silence.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The pain from the hairbrush is relentless an unbearable. I try to kick my legs, but whatever force is punishing me has found a way to keep them totally pinned in the air.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

I realize the irony that the fact that my lower-half wasn’t anesthetized like my head, allowed me to indulge in the exquisitely pleasurable sensation of my pussy being massaged.

But now, that same level of preserved sensitivity is being used to punish me in the cruelest way. Giving me the hardest, most painful hairbrush spanking of my life, while I remain utterly mute, deaf, and blind.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

All I can do now is take in the exquisite agony of my bottom being brutalized… with my filthy, squishy, disgusting, shameful diaper still on my ass, apparently held up on full display.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

As I moan with silenced sobs and bellow with totally muted screams for mercy, it occurs to me that I still have no idea who is doing this.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Is it my Mommy? Has she finally returned, only to witness yet another one of my shameful, filthy, dirty diaper orgasms in the dentist chair?

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Or is it Erin? Has she fished my Mommy’s hairbrush out from the diaper bag where she left it. And is it Erin now who is brutalizing me as punishment for enjoying her sinful diaper massage?

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

In fact, I don’t even know if it was Erin’s hand that brought me to orgasm! Or if it was even intentional! Or if the blind pleasure was the result of anyone’s hand at all!

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Finally, the spanking ends.

My blistered bottom is now more numb than my anesthetized face.

I’m a mess of sobbing, hiccuping, slobbering, and silent begging and wailing. All I want is for my punishment to end.

It occurs to me that no one bothered to make it clear to me, by one way or another, that I was in fact being punished. And I had no explanation from anyone that I was indeed being punished for my filthy, diaper orgasm…

But I suppose no one needed to tell me that. Even in my deaf, mute, and blind state, they knew that I knew.

My poopy diaper bottom was just ruthlessly thrashed with a hairbrush…

Because I’m a naughty, naughty, poopy diaper baby girl.

As my legs return to their straps below, and my sobbing starts to slow enough for me to breathe, I succumb to a profound wave of new exhaustion.

Once again, I begin to slip into a surreal quasi-dream state. One where I just barely feel things again being suctioned, erected, probed and glued into and around my mouth.

Whatever they’re doing is surely further subjugating me, infantilizing me, making me more and more pathetic and helpless…

And I deserve it.

Because I am a naughty, naughty, naughty baby girl.

* * *

I’m blinded by a sudden searing brightness.

I squint and recoil in pain. I realize it’s the fluorescent ceiling lights. My blindfold has suddenly just been pulled from my face.

My head aches and my body feels thousands of pounds. I slowly begin to recognize the dentist office. But I genuinely can’t figure out if I’ve been out for hours… or days.

Suddenly… Whoooosh.

Sound returns to my ears with a massive, deafening rush. I groggily turn my head to see two gloved hands pulling ear plugs out of my ears!

Was that the only reason I couldn’t hear? I now hear my Mommy’s voice behind me somewhere.

My other senses start to flick back to life as well. The stinging pain in my buttocks from the hair brush. The taste of strange new metal and plastic in my mouth. And regrettably… the stench of my horribly soiled, long-sat in, poopy, stinky diaper mess. It’s just as awful as ever.

But to my surprise… I can sit up. I can finally sit up! All the horrific straps, restraints, and bindings are no more!

I let out a loud groan of pain and manage to raise my body up to sitting position. My diaper gives yet another mortifying, filthy squish under my bum. But that’s the last thing on my mind now.

I squint as my blurry eyes adjust to the room.

“There’s our little stinker!” My Mommy announces with a big smile on her face. She’s standing next to Erin and Dr. Owens, both of them have smiles on their face as well, staring at me.

“Oh, all the work just looks wonderful, Dr. Owens,” my Mommy says, staring at my face. “Once again, I am so, so sorry that she made such a big poopy mess in here while I was still in the other room. Of course, you can share the picture you took of her in the dentist chair, it’s the least I can do for the extra trouble she caused you. You two are angels for not passing out while you finished your work on my stinky baby. In the future, I’ll of course make sure she does her daily BM before we get to the office. She used to be able to at least make it to the potty for poopies, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she can’t even do that anymore.”

“It’s no problem,” Erin replies. “Fortunately the sedative suppository I slipped in her bum during her diaper change still worked like a charm, regardless. It allowed us to finish all her work without anymore issues from her. Also, I think the earplugs we slipped in her ears helped as well.”

Sedative suppository? So… I was drugged? I wonder to myself, vaguely remembering the feeling of Erin’s finger in my bum during my diaper change. But my horrifying dream, with the orgasms and spanking, was any of that real? My bottom is sore… but I realize that could still just be from my earlier hairbrush spanking as well.

“Your dental work is all over, dear. How are you feeling, hon?” My Mommy says, grabbing my attention.

I give a groggy swallow, still trying to wake up. Just Swell, I try to say sarcastically.

Except what actually comes out of my mouth is… “Jutht thwell,” in the most severe lisp anyone has ever heard.

Suddenly, the three adults staring down at me crack up with giggles. I burn bright red, panicked and confused. But before I can think twice about my lisp… I see it. It’s in my peripheral vision.

Strange metal bars. They’re on either side of my head. I turn and touch them in confusion… and discover they are attached to my head somehow!

Finally, my Mommy approaches and holds up a mirror. “How do you like all your wonderful new, extra-special dental headgear? It’s going to fix all those yucky baby teeth you have in that mouth,” she says.

I look at my reflection in the mirror…and scream at the top of my lungs.

Staring back at me is a horrifying contraption of colorful metal and restrictive straps. A spider web of thick plastic bands extend from my mouth out to the metal box of brackets around my head. And the metal brackets are attached to my neck and shoulders by some sort of neck brace.

I realize, in horror, that the braces themselves were the least intrusive part of my new dental work! Instead, I’m now practically incased in a helmet of metal brackets and correctional ligaments. Pieces jut in and out of my mouth, connecting to pink and purple plastic around my head and the back of my neck.

I can barely move my head at all anymore. My jaw is permanently ‘corrected’ in a restricted forward fashion. And the whole thing is unspeakably hideous, humiliating… and utterly infantilizing.

“Vhass is diss??” I scream in horror.

And that’s when the next phase of my horror sets in.

“Mowmy? Vhass is diss?? Mowmy” I shout again, confirming what I feared. “Wayy, Mowmy… I talk funny! I talk funny!” I squeal in horror.

I suddenly realize I have a horrifying, babyish speech impediment! And not only that… I now can’t stop drooling like a baby, either!

My Mommy, Dr. Owens, and Erin all look down at me and laugh some more.

“She is just so cute,” Erin giggles.

“Oh, honey, don’t worry,” my Mommy says. “It’s true, you’re going to sound a lot more like a baby from now on, and you’re going to drool like one, too. But that’s okay, for a girl in a loaded, poopy diaper, I don’t think that’s much to worry about.”

I stare back up at my Mommy in shock. I can’t believe this is happening.

“Take it off! Take it off! Pwease!” I beg in my babyish, mumbling lisp, grabbing at the metal bars around my head.

“Uh-oh!” my Mommy says, quickly grabbing my wrists. “Looks like we’re going to need some help with those hands for now, after all.”

Suddenly, to my horror, all three of them are shoving the pink mittens back into my hands.

“Now not another fuss out of you, little girl, or I won’t hesitate to give you another painful visit from my hairbrush before we leave,” my Mommy threatens.

I stare back at her in stunned silence, stare down at my incapacitated hands, look down at my yellow and brown-stained diaper, and look into the mirror to see my horrifying new dental headgear.

I burst into tears of utter infantile humiliation and helplessness. I had thought that being tightly strapped down and tormented in the dentist chair was the peak of my utter humiliation. But now I realize… it was only just the beginning.

“Alright, alright, come on, stinky butt, let’s get going home so we can finally get that poopy diaper changed,” my Mommy says as she pulls me by the hand. “But before we go, turn around and say thank you and sorry to your dentists for everything you made them put up with today! Otherwise I am getting the hairbrush.”

I burn bright red, but manage to turn around and look up at Erin and the dentist. Erin and I make eye contact. And suddenly, my horrifying, visceral diaper orgasm and torment dreams come back to me.

The soggy diaper massage, the naughty orgasm, the horrific spanking… was any of it real? Or was it all a figment of my drugged imagination?

I open my mouth, and for a moment, I’m just about to ask the group. But I stop, at a loss for what to even say.

How could I even begin to ask such a question? The humiliation of asking them if they massaged me to the point of orgasm in my poopy diapers, then spanked me… I just couldn’t imagine speaking such a thing out loud.

If they didn’t do it, I would probably be punished for speaking such filth and apparently harboring such perverse fantasies. And if they did do it… would they even admit it?

I look at Erin a moment longer… and there’s a special twinkle in her eye. And for the briefest moment, I feel like she’s willing me to know… It was her. It was all her. She touched me, made me cum, and spanked me, all because she could, because she enjoyed watching me writhe in inescapable pleasure and suffering.

Because she wants me to know that I’m her naughty baby diaper girl.

But the moment passes. And the look in her eye disappears.

“Fank you, Erin and Dr. Owens,” I reluctantly mutter. “And sawwy I was so… naughty… and stinky.”

Erin smiles and kneels down. “Aww, that’s okay, Buttercup, I know you were just doing your best as the little stinky baby you are. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. And in fact, here you go, you can even take Mr. Hippo home, like I promised! Just remember to bring him back when I see you for your check up next month.”

Erin pushes Mr. Hippo into my mitten covered hands. I stare down at him, blush. I had almost forgotten about him. Then I look back up. “Check up next month?” I ask.

Erin and the others laugh. “That’s right, hon,” Dr. Owens chimes in. “You’re going to have monthly checks ups with us from now on. Hopefully next time, you won’t be making a big poopy mess for your Mommy to change while you’re here.”

I blush and look away in horror.

“Now just remember, only milk and baby-food while she’s wearing the dental gear,” Dr. Owens says to my Mommy.

“Oh, of course! They let me know all of that up front while you were doing the installation. And given how much this little girl is turning into an absolute infant every day, I don’t think that’s going to be any problem for her,” my Mommy says, causing them all to laugh.

The true horror of the situation starts to hit me. Not only am I trapped in this horrible contraption, but I now have to suffer monthly dental visits? And I can only eat baby food?!

“How long!” I suddenly blurt in my babyish lisp. “How long do I have to wear dis?!”

They all look down at me, then smirk.

“Well, hon, it depends,” Dr. Owens answers. “But given just how much of a baby you are, you may need to keep your new, adult-infant-specialized headgear on… permanently.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. “Permanently?!” I repeat in horror.

“Oh, hush now, calm down,” my Mommy scolds me. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the headgear will only be on as long as you need it. How about this, I’ll make you a deal. You’ll only need to keep your headgear on… as long as you still need to be in your diapers.”

I pause for a moment, processing her offer. I guess that doesn’t sound too bad…

“But I suppose we all know,” my Mommy adds, “that means we might as well just say that it’s permanent.”

They all erupt in hysterical laughter. I’m paralyzed and mortified. But standing there wearing nothing but my poopy, sagging diaper, and my horrendously confining headgear, I’m utterly helpless to utter a single word defending my dignity.

All I can do is start tearing up… and crying. Crying like the little baby I’ve become.

“Alright, poopy pants, let’s go. You’re stinking the whole place up,” my Mommy says, walking me toward the door by the hand, my poopy diaper drooping between my waddling legs.

I look behind me one more time. I swear I catch Erin giving me a suggestive wink… But I don’t know for sure.

I catch one final look at myself in the mirror. With my horrifying, infantilizing, pink and purple headgear, the pink bib on my naked chest, and the totally soaked and drooping poopy diaper around my bum…

I know they’re right. My new, utterly infantile state is going to be permanent.

I groan in shame and defeat as my Mommy walks me out the door. I realize, that when we first walked in earlier that day, I had absolutely no idea just how utterly humiliating, infantilizing, and life-changing it would be…

To get diapered at the Dentist.

THE END!