Invasion of the Diaper Elves, Strawberry Bootlaces (Deleted Scene)

Again, thank you for your patience. I know I haven't been posting as much as I ought to, and I'm grateful to you all for bearing with me. I promise to publish more regularly from here on out. More chapters of the major series are in the pipeline. In the meantime, here is the most requested (by a very thin margin) alternate ending/extension. I hope you enjoy.

"You damn bitch! You bitch!' It has to be black? You asked if it had to be black! Why didn't I listen! Goddamn it!"

Like a light being turned on, Dr. Charles felt the warm haze vanish from her mind. She looked at herself, and saw the rivers of bright red light shooting across her skin like tiny fireworks. She saw her tormentor, no longer confident and unassailable, but terrified and trying desperately to escape. She closed her eyes, and searched her mind. All its connections were so much clearer and quicker, memories leapt out with the slightest prompting. She reflected that her mind might even be sharper now than before.

She stood, the weight of her diapered rear making it only a bit more difficult than usual. She watched with satisfaction as the one in the red racing jacket collapsed onto the floor.

"You toopid doodoo head! I ged you fuh dis! Yoo big, mean, lady!" cried the trapped woman. As her intellect and volition returned, Dr. Charles recognized that whatever twisted magic she had just been subjected to, it was now being untwisted. She resolved to face this unexpected turn of good fortune with dignity and grace.

"Yeeeaah!!! How do you like me now, ya fuckin' shit-heel!"

Well, she was only human. She watched with satisfaction as her tormentor's eyes grew duller. Soon, the diapered intruder was writhing helplessly on the floor. Dr. Charles felt her bloated ass-cheeks shrink and tighten. The muscles within burned softly, as though from a strenuous work-out. The ridiculous diaper shrank against her as her butt converted pound after pound of jiggling flab into pure muscle. Soon, the silly-looking diaper was hugging a tight, toned, muscular ass instead of two quivering pillows . Meanwhile, her intruder's ass ballooned outward, as though all the fat from Dr. Charles' butt-cheeks was being beamed into it. Her youthful figure became pudgier as Dr. Charles' tightened and firmed. She felt as though she had just finished a particularly strenuous exercise routine. Her chubby belly withdrew, revealing a set of rock-hard abs.

Within moments, the one in the red racing jacket was grinning and giggling to herself, as she lounged on her enormous gelatinous ass-cheeks like a bean-bag chair. Meanwhile,  Dr. Charles' body continued to change. She realized with excitement that she was not stopping at her original level of fitness. Her naked form now looked toned, lithe, perhaps even more youthful. Her muscles swelled with power they had never had before. She looked more like a warrior queen or a yoga instructor than a music teacher. As the red lines of magical force faded,  she wondered whether her mind and strength of will had been similarly enhanced.

Abandoning her babbling, feeble intruder, Dr. Charles ran into the bathroom. She gasped when she herself in the mirror. She stood for a time admiring herself, stretching and flexing her shapely, powerful limbs. She reached down to tear off the absurdly thick diaper she had been magically forced into. She paused. She thought back to the feeling of intense, gushing pleasure she had felt when she had been helpless in the evil woman's magical power. The way her mind had collapsed into jelly at the bizarre creature's words. The beautiful feeling of soft weakness that she had been forced to experience. Despite wanting take a look at her newly-toned ass, she found herself rubbing the glossy plastic surface of the diaper, feeling its fluffy material press against her tight butt-cheeks. She read the word "Dumby" over and over, feeling her pussy pulse with fresh arousal each time. She twisted a nipple, bit her lip, and began rubbing herself through the thick padding, chanting softly to herself as she did

"Mmmmm, oh fuck! I'm such a Dumbass! Such as stupid, siwwy widdle nappy-butt! Gotta go pee pee in my nappies, cuz I dunno how to use da big-girl potty! Makin a pissy, soggy widdle nappy like a good widdle girl!"

She was delighted to find that her bladder muscles instantly loosened with the slightest application of her will. She felt the diaper grow hotter as she rubbed and rubbed. She realized that she had never experienced arousal on this level before. She wanted to remember this feeling, and she knew she would never be able to forget it. She knew that she wanted to chase down this delicious, humiliating feeling over and over.

By the time she was ready to pull on a bathrobe and return to check on her intruder, the vile creature had already vanished. Dr. Charles shut the window against the cold night air. She peeled off her swollen, cooling diaper and dropped it into the trash, deciding then and there to look for something comparable online.

Four Months later...

Mabel opened the front door of  her girlfriend's house and slipped inside, pocketing her copy of the key. She had met Francesca a few months earlier, on a fetish dating sight. She had been skeptical at first, given that Francesca was almost a decade older than herself, but they had chatted for a while and found that they really clicked on a personal level. She had found Francesca to be insightful, witty, and shockingly intelligent. Not to mention creative. Mabel had rubbed herself silly when the older woman had told her a sexy story about a supernatural diapered woman invading her home and trying unsuccessfully to turn her into a chubby, diaper-wearing idiot. She loved having such an imaginative girlfriend to share her kink with.

Any discomfort Mabel had initially felt about the age difference vanished when the pair finally met in person. Francesca was easily the most fit woman Mabel had ever met, of any age. When they were out in public together, no one would guess that Francesca was actually the older of the two. If anything, they might wonder why a woman so clearly obsessed with physical fitness was dating someone of such commonplace physique, maybe even a little on the chubby side. Their shared interest in music had a lot to do with it. Mabel was a concert pianist, while Francesca taught Music and Music Music Theory at a local university. But that was hardly the only thing they had in common.

She approached the door to her girlfriend's study nervously. Mabel felt her heart flutter when she saw the pink scrunchy on the doorknob. It was a signal they had agreed on early in their relationship. It meant that Francesca was in a mood for one of their little scenes. She was capable of just stating what she wanted, of course, but it was more fun to open the scene without a preamble.

Mabel looked herself over. She was wearing the brass wire-rimmed glasses that her girlfriend had often expressed a fondness for. Her sweater was lavender-colored and hung on her loosely, ideal for the kind of image she wanted to project. No one on the street outside would guess that Mabel wore much more revealing outfits for a casual night on the town than she ever did for her most intimate times with her girlfriend. Her denim jeans and sensible white shoes would not turn many heads outside this house.

She patted her throat, and found that her she was not wearing her necklace. She fished it out of her purse. It was just a cheap little thing she had found at a flea market. The pendant was a little faux golden dolphin with a faux sapphire on the dorsal fin. There was nothing special about it, except the mysterious power Mabel and Francesca had chosen to imbue it with. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, adjusted her glasses, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Inside, Francesca was sitting at her home office computer in a white tank top and gray sweatpants, diligently typing away. Mabel struggled to keep herself from breaking into a grin. She had to try her best to match her girlfriend's serious, professional demeanor. She always had such a hard time keeping her feelings from showing in her eyes. She was jealous of how easily her girlfriend managed it. Francesca was sitting there, neutral expression on her face, completely focused on her work, as though she hadn't heard Mabel come in.

Mabel strolled over with long, confident strides. She had practiced them in front of the mirror until she could do them without any hint of anxiety or hesitation. She rested her hands on her girlfriend's muscular shoulders and leaned forward to whisper into her ear.

"Hi babe. What are you working on?" she asked in a conspiratorial voice.

"I'm working out an algorithm for predicting the stock market. It isn't perfect yet, but I'm confident that it will be able to give us a positive return on a more-or-less consistent basis once I've added in a few more market indicators." said Francesca in a measured, matter-of-fact tone. Mabel's heart fluttered. She was so poised, so dignified. She looked at the screen. Sure enough, it was covering in computer code. Mabel knew nothing of programming, and her girlfriend claimed with a straight face that until recently, she hadn't either. It seemed impossible for anyone to master such a complex skill in such a short time, but if anyone could do it, Francesca could. If she wasn't technically a genius, she had missed the distinction by millimeters. Still, Mabel knew her duty, and forced herself to continue.

"Wow. Sounds really complicated. Why don't you take a little break? I'm sure it will still be here when you get back." she said in her softest, most sensual voice.

"I'm a little busy at the moment. Perhaps you should come back later." said her girlfriend curtly. Mabel admired Francesca's acting ability. She sounded exactly like she was annoyed by Mabel's intrusion into her busy schedule.

"I think you need a break." repeated Mabel, allowing an edge of irritation to slip into her own voice. "All that work must have your silly little head all tied up in knots."

"I really don't have time. Please, I'm busy." said Francesca, her eyes never straying from the screen.

Mabel sighed theatrically. "I don't think a little girl like you should be struggling around with all that tough math. You ought to be free to just play and enjoy yourself."

"I am not a little girl, and what I'm doing here is important. I'd appreciate it if you didn't distract me."

Mabel couldn't keep the wry grin off her lips as she gently spun Francesca's office chair around.

"Aww, sounds like a certain somebody needs a little reminder of how things work around here. Does your babysitter need to show you why you're not in control?"

"I am in perfect control, I'll have you know. And you are not anyone's babysitter Now get lost. I'll give a call when I'm ready for you." said Francesca, without varying her tone at all.

There had been a time when Mabel would have given up and backed down at this point, even knowing the game as well as she did. Francesca was a very imposing, intimidating woman. Walking up to someone as strong and brilliant as her and trying to boss her around seemed insane, like giving a saber-toothed tiger a tummy-rub.

"Such a little grumpy-britches! I know you like to think of yourself as this tough, powerful woman, sweetie, but we both know what you really are. " Mabel plucked the little dolphin from between her breasts and presented it to her girlfriend, like a priest trying to ward off vampires. Dr. Charles' eyes locked onto it as it caught the light. "I think a certain silly little girl needs to remember who wears the big-girl pants around here, don't you...Piddle-Pants?"

Mabel watched with satisfaction as Francesca's face twitched at the sound of her trigger word. Mabel had never tried to hypnotize anyone before she had met Francesca, but luckily she had proven to be a supremely good subject. Nothing that she set her mind on ever eluded her for long, and when she set her mind on giving Mabel the keys to her subconscious thoughts, the results had been incredible. Even Mabel herself wasn't entirely sure where the make-believe ended and the genuine hypnotic programming began, if that line even really existed in the hazy labyrinth of the human brain. All she knew for sure is that, to judge by appearances, the formidable woman in front of her was straining with herself.

"I...I am not a little girl! I am in complete control!" she said through gritted teeth. Her toned legs pressed together uncomfortably, although her eyes were angry and full of defiance.

Mabel clicked her teeth and shook her head sadly. "Oh, such a kidder, our little Piddle-Pants! You can't fool your babysitter, sweetie! I know that little bladder of yours is feeling so very, very full right now. So full, like it's about ready to just burst! I know those muscles of yours are just getting weaker, and weaker, and weaker, every time I say...Piddle-Pants. You're far too silly to be doing big, complicated things like writing computer code or doing your business on the big-girl potty. You just can't control yourself at all, sweetie. That's why you need your babysitter to look after you. Isn't that right,  Piddle-Pants?"

Francesca was visibly straining. She crossed her legs and pressed both hands into her crotch. "That isn't true! I don't need a babysitter! I am a grown woman, and I'm perfectly capable of using the restroom! I don't need you!"

Francesca turned and began limping her way toward the door, presumably heading toward the bathroom. Mabel loved this part. The hours of hypnotic conditioning they had done together had paid off, if the fact that they were loads of fun weren't already enough. She raised her hands, and with a self-satisfied little smile on her face, she clapped her hands twice.

Francesca spun on her heel. She seemed to be struggling to force herself to resist, but it was no use. She marched back into the room, hands still pressing into her crotch, and stood staring daggers at Mabel.

"Does somebody need a little Rubby Bum-Bum to help her remember who she really is?" asked Mabel with a well-practiced air of superiority.

"No!" snapped Dr. Charles. Her eyes were shiny with tears now.

"Yes, I think that's just what you need. A little Rubby Bum-Bum." Mabel said as she reached a hand behind Francesca. She cradled the older woman's ridiculously taut and muscular butt cheek in her hand for a moment. Francesca inhaled sharply. Then Mabel began to rub.

She gently stroked the tight butt with a slow,  rhythmic motion. "I know you just love Rubby Bum-Bum time, sweetie. When your babysitter rubs your little tushy, you just feel all that nasty big-girl nonsense melt away, don't you? Every little touch on your silly little butt makes you feel more and more like your real self. No more being tough. No more being strong. No more standing up for yourself. You just feel so weak, so soft, so pathetic! You feel that weakness in your bladder spreading outward, making your whole body feel so, so nice. So nice, and weak, and helpless. It's no use resisting, sweetie. No use at all! When you feel my hand rubbing all over that bum-bum of yours, you can feel your arms getting heavier and heavier. You can feel every inch of your skin getting softer and more sensitive. All your power is fleeing your body, leaving you sooo weak and sooo soft. An adorable little weakling like you just has no chance of ever keeping her silly big-girl pants dry, does she?"

Dr. Charles' mouth opened. her eyes closed, and her head rolled backward as Mabel continued to rub her butt in a slow, circular motion. A little exhalation of breath escaped her, and the gray fabric of her sweatpants began to darken.

Mabel continued to rub. "There. It feels so much better to just pee in your pants like the silly little weakling you are. Of course it does! Putting a helpless little thing like you in big-girl pants is just asking for trouble. It's okay, sweetie. This is why you need your babysitter to looker after you, isn't it?"

"Nooo! I'm a big girl! I am I am I am! I don't need a babysitter! I can use the potty!" moaned Francesca. She grabbed at Mabel's arms, but Mabel easily ignored the feeble pressure she exerted. Mabel never stopped finding her girlfriend's fetish for dis-empowerment arousing. She knew that Francesca could have broken her arm like a stale baguette if she felt so inclined, but had eagerly undergone hypnosis to make herself utterly helpless whenever her girlfriend rubbed her little tush. Mabel took her girlfriend by the wrists and effortlessly dragged her toward the bed.

"Someone's being a real fussy-britches today! Luckily, your wonderful babysitter knows just how to turn naughty girls into sweet little angels! Why, with your skin so soft and so sensitive, I don't think it'll take more than a tiny little slap or two to have you begging for mercy, will it?"

"..nooo..." moaned Francesca in a tiny, defeated voice. as Mabel sat down and pulled her over her lap. With a practiced motion, her soggy sweatpants and panties were pulled aside, revealing a butt that looked like the product of an intensely-demanding exercise regime. Mabel had never actually seen Francesca working out, but certainly would never believe that her physique was actually the product of magic.

"There's that naughty word again. You sure do like saying no, don't you? Well, let's get all the nos out of your system. Tell me, are you a strong, capable woman who can make decisions for herself?"

Mabel delivered her lightest, slowest spank to Francesca's behind. She cried out as though in serious pain.

"Awwww! Stoppit! Stoooop!" she bawled.

Mabel returned to rubbing Dr. Charles' ass. "Answer the question, sweetie."

Francesca sniffled. "N-noo..." she whimpered.

"No." agreed Mabel. "Are you ready to wear thin little panties, and use the big-girl potty like your babysitter does?"

She hesitated. Another extremely light swat to her behind fixed that. "Awww! No! I'm not!"

"Good girl." said Mabel, rubbing the "sore" spot. "Are going to talk back and be rude to your babysitter today?"

She hung her head. "...no."

The rubbing grew faster. "are you going to be a soft, submissive little crybaby who always does just what her babysitter says?" she asked.

"Uh...uh-huh." said the muscular, defeated woman.

"tell me what you're going to be, sweetie." The rubbing grew faster again.

"...gonna...gonna be soft... an...and sub-miss-ive." she said, sounding out each syllable individually.

"And?" prompted Mabel. Her hand hovered over her girlfriend's taut behind.

Franscesca crossed her arms and huffed. Another whiffle-bat swat landed on her impossibly sensitive butt. It wouldn't have been enough to wake her from sleep without the hypnotic conditioning, but right now, it felt like a red-hot brand. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Imma Cwybaby!" she bawled.

"Good girl." said Mabel, who resumed rubbing her butt once again. She kept on rubbing as the sobs gradually subsided. Finally, she patted her girlfriend condescendingly on the head. "Now, let's get the little weakling out her silly big-girl costume and into her nice, thick, comforting nappies, where she belongs!"

Mabel didn't share her girlfriend's British background, but she knew that she loved the word "nappies", so that what she called them. Mabel gently stood Francesca up and stripped her of her shirt, socks, sweat-pants, and sodden panties. She unconsciously licked her lips at the sight of her girlfriend's sculpted, naked body. She led her by the hand to a guest bedroom in the back of the house, that the two of them had converted into their private playroom. A huge white crib sat in one corner of the room, with a pod of stuffed dolphins hanging gently from the the mobile above it. On the opposite wall was an adult-sized changing table. The walls were painted pastel blue with puffy white clouds, and Francesca's growing collection of stuffed animals sat in a pile in front of a large, flat-screen TV. Mabel patted the changing table.

"Lie down, sweetie. Let's get that sweet little bum-bum of yours back into nappies."

Francesca pouted, but did as Mabel told her. Mabel pulled an adult diaper out from one of the shelves below the changing table. She displayed it to her girlfriend. It was shiny, and made little crinkling noises as Mabel unfolded it and lovingly fluffed it up before sliding it under her girlfriend's butt.

"Lift your tushy up, sweetie. There's my good girl! Now spread your legs! There we go. Can you tell your babysitter why you need these lovely, thick nappies, sweetie?" asked Mabel.

"Cuz...(sniff)...cuz I dunno how do go potty like a big girl!" she sobbed. Mabel shook her head as she dusted baby powder onto her girlfriend's crotch.

"No...try again, sweetheart."

"...cuz I wet my bed and go peepee in my pants like a big baby!" moaned Francesca.

Mabel leaned down over Francesca's face. She dipped two fingers into her girlfriend's pussy. "Nooo. No sweety. It's so much simpler than that." She began working her finger around Dr. Charles' clit as she spoke.

Mabel had been very uncomfortable with this part of the scene, but Francesca had gently persuaded her that it was more than okay. Now, she enjoyed it almost as much as Francesca.

"It's because you're stupid, honey." said Mabel, punctuating the word by giving a condescending tap to the end of Francesca's nose. She loved seeing those big brown eyes point toward each other as they stared at her finger. "So very stupid. Much too thick to ever look after yourself. A dumby like you will always need her babysitter to clean her, and feed her, and change her silly little nappies for her. You're so stupid, you can't possibly do any kind of job. Even going to kindergarten would be far too confusing for you. No, for someone as soft, weak, helpless, and idiotic as you are, there's only one way forward. And that's to stay in your beautiful nursery, getting your silly little bum-bum wiped by your babysitter. All you're good for is whining and pouting and  filling up your nappies for me."

Dr. Charles' breathing sped up. So did Mabel's fingers.

"And that's just how things should be. No need for stress or work. No point in trying to learn things or accomplish stuff. Leave all that nonsense to the big people. Your babysitter just loves to change your stinky nappies for you. Yes she does! Yeshedoes! Your babysitter loves you very, very much, and she'll always be here to keep her stupid little weakling in her safe, dry, comforting nappies! No need to worry about anything. No need to be scared. You can just lean back and let your silly little head empty out. "

She shook. She gasped. She exhaled. Her head collapsed onto the padded changing table. Mabel wiped her hands with a baby-wipe and finished taping her girlfriend into her nappies. She bent forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Good girl! What a stupid, adorable little weakling I have! I think a little nap is in order, now. Let's get you into your favorite jim-jams, and then into your crib. Go ahead and suck your little thumb as much as you like. When you wake up, I'll have a nice fresh nappy and a nice warm ba-ba waiting for you, and we'll watch some cute little cartoons together. Cartoons so simple and cute, even a dumby like you could understand them. Come on, go beddy-bye for your babysitter."

Soon, Dr. Charles was locked securely in her crib, with warm pink fleece covering her head to toe and a thumb planted between her pouty lips. Mabel gave her another tender kiss, then turned out the lights. Francesca fell asleep to the sound of her mobile spinning gently above her.