Demoted To The Mechanical Nursery Chapter Five (Patreon)

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“Uuuhhgg...”

     Ashley groaned, forcing herself to open her mouth to accept another spoon-load of icky stewed prunes. The goopy brown and purple mush was lumpy and tasted awful... she was near nears as she forced herself to chew and swallow, her jaw sore and her tummy already bulging to the limit after all the food she’d already eaten in the past few minutes.

     She forced herself to swallow, belching noisily almost immediately after she’d choked it down. Her normally flat belly, kept taunt and tight by hours of crunches, was pooching out, positively filled to the bursting point with food... but she didn’t dare stop. Every small act of resistance earned her a shock on her diapered backside from the cackling Ms. Simmons in the control booth.

     So she opened her mouth to accept each spoonful, chewing and swallowing mechanically, her face screwing up with every tortured bite, the icky taste forcing tears from her eyes that rolled down her cheeks in fat rivulets. Her only consolation was that the contents of the bowl were rapidly disappearing, and that the more full she was, the closer she was to finishing.

     In the control room, Megan Simmons watch the monitors gleefully, thoroughly enjoying the show. She chuckled, watching Ashley’s face getting messier with every bite, pausing only to emit the occasional belch to relieve the pressure. She thought about the havoc the combination of foods Ashley had just been force-fed would wreak on her bowels... Simmons settled back for what was sure to be an entertaining afternoon.

     Ashley finished her lunch with a sizable belch, topped off by a noisy fart. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment-- the haughty, dainty Ashley had never passed gas in public before, but it was simply unavoidable... the pressure in her belly seemed to be growing, and her tummy was beginning to gurgle in strange and ominous ways.

     But she didn’t have time to worry about it-- the tray was unsnapped and removed at rapid speed, and the next thing she knew, Ashley found herself scooped up under the arms once more and lifted from the high-chair (which retreated back into the floor). A panel opened in the ceiling, and a mass of straps and buckles tumble from within.

     She inspected with a kind of curious dread, knowing that whatever it was, it spelled disaster for her. Her prediction was proven correct only a few seconds later, when she found herself strapped in, her legs threaded through a pair of holes cut in a canvas sling that served as a seat for her diapered bottom. Her feet dangled near the floor, and she could barely touch it if she stretched... which was made possible by the elasticized straps that kept her suspended from the roof, allowing her to “hop” in place a little.  

     With a fiery blush, Ashley suddenly realized where she was... she’d seen babies in contraptions similar to these, was pretty sure she even had one her self at one time. Never in a million years did she think that she’d be sitting diapered in a baby bouncer in her early 20-- and in a diaper no less!

     She kicked and squirmed a bit, trying to get used to her position. Her full to the point of popping belly was presenting a new set of challenges, and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick.

     But she quickly got the hang of it-- literally, as she discovered her best bet was to simply relax, put all her weight on her diapered butt, and let the sling act as a seat. She heard a panel open and looked over, groaning when she saw the automatons brandishing a large bottle.  

     “Oh come on!” she whined, struggling against her bonds (which merely made her jiggle in the air a bit.) “I don’t have any room left in me!”

     But the machines ignored her, popping the nipple into her mouth and waiting patiently for her to reach up and take it with both hands, exhaling angrily through her nose as she did. She frowned, sucking slowly, identifying the contents as apple juice with a sigh... something else to stimulate her digestion.

     She tried to relax as much as she could, but the bouncer was unstable, constantly bobbing or twisting with every move she made. More to the point, the contents of her belly were gurgling and grumbling noisily, and her bowels were starting to cramp painfully.

     She sucked the juice slowly, only drinking as much as she needed to keep the automatons at bay... still, her stomach was filled to the max, and she was forced to push out a lout fart to ease to discomfort building inside her. Embarrassment turned her cheeks red, but couldn’t stop her from sighing, relieved to have alleviated at least some of her discomfort.

     “Um... excuse me?” she said to no one in particular, not sure if anyone was listening, but pressing her luck anyway. “Can I uh... use the bathroom? Fun’s fun and all, but I kinda gotta go...” 

      Ms. Simmons ignored Ashley’s pleas, studying her discomfort on the monitors with no shortage of amusement-- she’d waited a long time to test her creation out on a live subject, and it seemed as though she’d chosen right. Sending this brat back to pampers and watching her ordeal up to this point had been quite stimulating... but it was what was coming next that she’d been waiting for oh so patiently. She settled in, making herself comfortable, preparing herself to watch the upcoming struggle.

     That struggle began in earnest a few minutes later, when Ashley finally finished her apple juice, the bottle emptying with a hissing pop. She removed the nipple from her mouth and followed up with a large burp. A mechanical hand snatched the empty bottle from her grip, and Ashley sagged into the seat of the baby bouncer, trying to get comfortable. Frowning, she lifted a diapered butt-cheek as best she could and blasted out another wet rumbler, so loud it was barely muffled by the diaper. Her pampers didn’t do much for the stink either, and she was left to fan her face against the stench.

     But the fart brought no relief, and for a little while, Ashley simply hung limply in the baby bouncer, twisting gently to and fro in the air conditioning, her face growing pale and distressed. Inside, the grumbling and gurgling was growing louder as the cramps grew stronger and more painful. She was passing gas at regular intervals, the farts getting noisier and greaser all the time.

     Finally, a cramp bit into her side that was so powerful it forced her to double over, the baby bouncer bobbing and twisting in response to the movement. Her tummy emitted a series of tortuous gurgles and rumbles, and she was clenching her buttocks almost as tightly as they would go. She realized that she was desperate to piss... deciding it was one thing too many to have to concentrate on, Ashley simply slackened her bladder, wetting herself in one hot, wet gush, emitting a satisfied sigh as her diaper absorbed the liquid, a wave of relief washing over her.

     It was short-lived-- Ashley was farting heavily and loudly now, embarrassing as all hell but also almost totally involuntary. With the pressure increasing to an almost painful degree, she turned to the two-way mirror and pleaded once more.

     “Bathroom!” She spat desperately. “I gotta go to the bathroom right now! Please don’t make m-- uumph!” She grunted, gut off once more by a pacifier being shoved into her mouth and fastened behind her head via strap and buckle.  

     It was too late anyway-- she felt a mushy surge from her backside, even with her sitting with her full weight on her tushy. Her buttocks parted and she felt her anus open, totally beyond her will, a huge, mushy dollop of poo-poo forced out into the seat of her diaper, accompanied by a rude, gassy sound. Her relief was almost as strong as her embarrassment, and she emitted a noisy sigh, hoping that now that she’d let a little out into her pants, controlling the rest of the load wouldn’t be an issue.

     Seconds later she realized how wrong she was when a powerful cramp in her bowels simply opened up her back passage in spite of her strongest resistance, leaving her to do anything but emit a distressed grunt, her cramp pushing out another accidental, flatulent round of mushy brown poop into the seat of her diapers. She grunted to herself, trying to tighten her sphincter to keep the rest of the load in...

     A cramp squeezed her belly like a giant fist, another hot, mushy surge escaped her backside, totally beyond her control... all Ashley could was moan and grunt, the mess spreading out against her bottom and lifting her in her seat, smearing her buttocks and filling the cleft between them.

This couldn’t get any worse, she thought to herself, struggling vainly in the muddy mess in her pants to find a more comfortable position.

     As if in response, a pair of mechanical hands slid out from the floor and grabbed her ankles, pulling her downward in the bouncer. The pile in her pants squished audibly, and she let out a muffled cry behind her pacifier, a plea for mercy.

     But neither the machine nor Ms. Simmons had any, and the hand swiftly released it’s grip, sending Ashley bouncing up and down in her thoroughly loaded diaper.

What’s next for Ashley?