Miley Gets Regressed Part Seven (Patreon)

A furnace was roaring in Miley’s guts, and the disgraced pop diva was sweating profusely. The pressure in her bowels was building, her stomach was bloated and rumbling, and it was only the frantic squeezing of her butt-cheeks, tightened and toned by hours of exercise, that was preventing a full-blown accident in her fluffy white diaper. She looked at Trixie, then back to the door, silently preying that Nurse Julie would return soon.  

     But the more minutes ticked by on the clock, the bleaker the outlook became, and a crazy idea grew in Miley’s mind… a mad, half-delirious scheme, a last-ditch chance to save her dignity and deny her captors the satisfaction of making her into an overgrown baby-- at least for the moment.

     Before she even knew what she was doing, Miley was up on her hands and knees, crawling across the nursery floor, trying desperately to both keep her butt-cheeks together to avoid an accident and stay out of Trixie’s line of sight as she made her way over to the door.

     “What are you doing?!” Ava whispered urgently, but Miley just ignored her-- slowly, she crept towards the door on her hands and knees, the low rustle of her diaper thundering in her ears.

     Cautiously, Miley reached out and took hold of the knob, half expecting it wouldn’t turn, ending her escape before it began. But the handle turned, smoothly and easily, the door practically springing open on well oiled hinges. Miley took a look back over her shoulder-- “big sister” Trixie was tending to one of the other girls, and she had her back completely turned. There wouldn’t be a better opportunity, so without another moment of hesitation, Miley slipped out the crack and gently shut the door behind her.

She crawled quietly for the first few meters, then climbed shakily to her feet, the diaper inside her onsie pushing her thighs apart, forcing her to waddle. Her pampers crinkled with every awkward step, and as the pressure inside her continued building, Miley found herself farting like crazy. She stepped up the pace, not knowing how much longer she could hold on.

     Miley baby-stepped down the hallway as quickly as her bulky diaper and tightly clenched buttocks would take her. She had no idea where she was going, rounding the corners blindly, letting chance guide her to the bathroom… and keep her from being spotted. A loud, bubbling fart rumbled her diapers, dangerously wet… Miley was forced to reach back and press her hand up against the seat of her onsie, pressing the padded seat of the diaper tightly to her buttcrack.  

     Wiping the sweat from her forehead with her free hand, she pressed the other firmly against her tushy as she rounded another corner-- and nearly cried out in excitement when she spotted a ladies room at the end of the hall. Her stomach was gurgling audibly now, her butt spewing hot, noisy gas at random intervals, and it was starting to feel worryingly moist between her cheeks.  

     Steady, step by step, the restroom got closer and closer, and Miley actually broke out into a smile… she was going to make it… she was actually going to make it!

     The door was so close she felt like she could almost reach out and touch it…

     A crisply dressed nurse suddenly appeared from around the corner coming face to face with her. Startled, Miley gasped and jumped back a bit, the momentary lapse in concentration causing her to loosen her cheeks just a little bit-- instantly, the floodgates were opened, and Miley stiffened and turned red as an involuntary surge of hot, muddy mush pushed it’s way out of her rear end with a loud, bubbly fart. She grunted and squeezed herself shut, clamping off the flow… but not before a sizable pile of smelly brown poopy had accumulated in the seat of her pampers, squishing up against her buttocks.

     “You’re not supposed to be out here,” the nurse said, hands on hips. “You’d better have a good reason for not being in class, sweetie,” she lectured sternly, “or else you’re going to be in a lot of trouble!”

     “I uh… Um...” Miley stood before the nurse, quivering and stammering like a little girl who’d just been caught red handed with her hand in the cookie jar. And before she could think of anything to say, her diapered butt answered for her, a ghastly, splattering farting sound emerged, Miley’s well-toned ass-cheeks parting to accommodate an uncontrollable gush of thick brown poo-poo into the back of her diapers.  

     “Uuuhhhhh-hhhhuuuuhhhhhuuhhh!” She grunted, her embarrassment overshadowed by an earth-shattering, almost orgasmic relief. A cramp squeezed her guts, forcing out another round of chunky, flatulent diarrhea, the seat of her onsie bulging out visibly behind her. She felt like a tube of toothpaste, being squeezed in the middle by a giant fist, the contents of her bowels being pushed out at an almost continuous rate.

     At last, she sputtered to a stop, and Miley was left heaving for breath, her diaper loaded, saggy and stinking behind her.  

     The sweaty, exhausted pop idol heaved for breath, the gooey mess in her pants clinging warmly to her buttocks and smearing up between her cheeks.  

     “Just as I suspected!” The nurse said, her eyes narrowing. “Sneaking out to use the potty, eh, young lady? We know exactly what to d with bad girls like you...”

What should Miley’s punishment be?