Miley Gets Regressed Part Two (Patreon)

Happy Thanksgiving!

 As always, thanks to all my Patrons. Still not a lot of action in this one but trust me: things are going to pick up in the next part. As always, if you enjoy this story and you'd like to see more, hit like and leave a comment, and if you pledge $8 or more, don't forget to vote in the poll below to determine Mile's fate.

The institute where Miley would be serving her regression sentence was an English colonial-style mansion a couple of hours outside of LA. When they pulled up to the gates, the paparazzi had already gathered. Miley blushed and fumed-- they wouldn’t be able to see what happened of course, and the entire world already knew she’d been sentenced to regression (that late night comedians had been having a field day wit it)... did they have to rub her nose in it?

     The gates slowly parted. The black sedan rolled through and gently up the long driveway towards the house. Miley inspected the grounds through the window. On any other day, she would have admired the beautifully maintained gardens and lawns... but, with her last few moments of her adulthood at hand, she simply frowned and pouted on the unfairness of it all.

     And before she knew it, they were stopped out front. “We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said, with, Miley noted, a barely concealed note of glee.

     “Thanks,” she scowled, reluctantly climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind her.

“Hello, dear,” the woman greeted her, the warmth in her voice betrayed by the cool, superior smirk on her face. “Allow me to introduce myself: I’m Alice Smythe, the head matron here at the institute.”She extended a hand and gave Miley a hearty handshake. Miley, for her part, just tried not to stare. Ms. Smythe was elegantly dressed and possessed a lithe, athletic frame-- she also stood over six feet tall, had to look down to meet Miley’s gaze, and, Miley could tell by the handshake, was easily strong enough to handle her with the greatest of ease. The woman was positively amazonian, and even standing in front of her wearing designer clothes, Miley still felt like little more than a girl playing dress up. “Follow me won’t you?” she asked, turning and striding confidently down the hall.

     She lead Miley down a long corridor, deeper into the facility. “As you know, we’re here to facilitate your court mandated regression sentence. For the period you’re serving your sentence, our staff will provide for all of your care and needs... whatever they might be,” she said with a barely concealed smirk. “You will be assigned a room and a roommate, and I suggest you play nice... we take misbehavior very seriously around here,” she said sternly. Miley nodded, listened nervously.

     Miley tried to think of something clever to say, merely gulped instead. “We offer the full range of age re-assignment therapy experiences, from late childhood alllllllll the way down to newborn infants-- and we enforce these statuses with a battery of post-hypnotic suggestion in conjunction with certain chemical treatments... needless to say, I suggest you remain on your best behavior, young woman,” she warned with a stern smile... Miley was feeling more anxious with every passing moment.  

     “We have the full authority of the court to assign and re-assign your age-status at any time as we see fit. Good behavior will result in an increase of age-status, while bad behavior will be met with a reduction of age-status. I d suggest you attempt to be a good girl during your stay my dear... It’s so easy for a naughty girl such as yourself to slip back into infancy before you know it!

     “With our highly trained staff, state-of-the-art equipment, and meticulously researched methods, we are able to re-create the desired period of your life with almost total accuracy for the most effective regression therapy treatments in the world,” Ms Smythe lectured, her high heals clacking against the polished tile beneath their feet.  

     They entered Alice’s office... Miley gasped, shocked when she was greeted by the sight of a girl about her age, standing with her nose in the corner, a fluffy white diaper tugged down to her knees to reveal a matching set of rosey red buttocks.

     Ms. Smythe didn’t even acknowledge the girl, the state of her undress, or her obvious embarrassment, simply taking a seat at her desk and gesturing for Miley to sit. Reluctantly, she obeyed, still staring at the girl in the corner, unable to take her eyes away from the glowing orbs of her red-hot hiney. Ms. Smythe took up a folder from her desk and browsed through it.  

     “As you know,” she said smoothly without looking up, “the court has given us a large degree of leeway in determining your initial age-status. I want to remind you once again, however, that this assignment will likely be temporary as your status will increase or decrease depending on your behaviour.”

      “Uh huh,” Miley said, only barely listening as she stared at the girl in the corner, her eyes fixated on the girl’s shiny red rump, and although she tried to focus on what Ms. Smythe was saying, she couldn’t help but stare at those blazing biscuits and think about how much they must sting.  

     “I’ve been reviewing your behavior,” Ms. Smythe said gravely, carefully closing the folder and setting it on the desk. Leaning back in the chair, she fixed Miley with a superior gaze from over the top of her glasses. “You have some, shall we say, shocking incidents in your past... but I don’t believe this marks you as a bad girl-- simply a naughty one,” she said with a predatory smile. Miley felt as though she were about to melt before the might of a goddess.

     “I’ve weighed every variable very carefully,” she said with finality, and I’ve decided...”

What should Miley’s age-status be set at? (Remember that this can go up or down depending on her future behavior.)

• Six years old (still in training panties.)
• Four years old (still in pull-ups)
• Two years old (in diapers, potty training)

Click here to go to the poll.