Escape Into Diapers Chapter Two (Patreon)

One week later, Elisa was sitting in a coffee shop across from an online friend she’d known for a couple of years now. Although they’d met within the ABDL/ ageplay fetish community online, these days he was using that same position in the community as a cover for his real work-- helping to smuggle women out of America and back into his native Canada, where they still enjoyed all their rights and privileges.

     “Just so we’re clear,” he said, sipping his tea, “once you’re over the border, you’ll never be able to come back... not until this... madness... stops, anyway. It’s a mandatory regression sentence if they ever catch you.”

     “I understand,” she said, distracted. In the booth next to theirs, a man was spoon-feeding his regressed wife a bowl of custard, her face all smeared and gooey. Dressed in nothing but a little pink t-shirt with a bib over top and a huge, crinkly diaper bulging beneath her in the oversized high-chair provided by the diner, it looked almost exactly like a scene from one of her own captions. Elisa shivered, feelings of horror and guilt clashing with a barely suppressed arousal.

     “I’ve got everything ready,” he assured her, casually sipping his drink. “I’ll fill you in on the details when we get back to the motel. Are you sure you’re ready? As I seem to recall, this is everything you’ve been hoping for on your blog... what changed your mind?”

     “Hey! Back off, Parker!” Elisa tried to sound assertive, but was dismayed when she realized her voice sounded like a whiny little girl’s in her own ears. “Writing silly stories on the internet was just fun-- this is real life, you know?!”

     “Just teasing,” he said with that maddening smile. “Here-- room 109,” he continued, sliding her the spare key. “I’ll see you in an hour,” He rose and placing some cash on the table before striding out of the diner.  

     Elisa finished her lunch and sipped her coffee, watching the Adult Baby at the next table messily eat her meal, gurgling to herself and rocking happily in her high chair, gratefully accepting the sweet paste  her husband was lovingly spooning into her waiting mouth. She forced herself to watch this lovely young woman, her brain reduced to infantile mush by weeks of hypnosis and reprogramming at a government facility, staring at the mess caked on her chin and listening to the crinkle of the diaper beneath her, letting if fuel her resolve.

     She thought about Parker’s last question: ‘what changed your mind?’ Elisa watched the Baby Woman eating her lunch wiggling her bottom in a diaper, the diaper she knew was probably going to be wet and messy shortly after she finished her meal (if it wasn’t already), and thought back to a few nights before... and the incident that made her decide to become a fugitive.

Elisa remembered how much she just wanted to head home after class and relax in a nice hot bath... but her friend Jennifer had recently returned from the re-education centre, and Elisa had promised Jennifer’s husband that she’d stop by after work for a visit, and she realized, with a stab of guilt, that she was dreading it. She’d known Jennifer for years, had gone to school with her before they both got jobs at the same college... but Elisa hadn’t seen her in over a month. During that time, her friend as she knew her had been erased from existence, her mind rolled back to a previous, more pliable state. And once her head had been emptied of all her education and experiences, it was filled once more with everything she would need to be an effective baby-wife.

     “Hi Elisa!” Jennifer’s husband said, answering the door and inviting her in. She swallowed, realizing that her heart was thudding heavily in her chest.

     “S-s-sorry it took me so long to stop by,” she said, not quite keeping the nervous quiver from her voice. “I-- it’s just been so busy at work recently...”

     “It’s OK, I understand. Your career is important to you-- Jennifer used to be the same way,” he said with a smile, and Elisa tried to suppress a shiver.

     “How, uh, how is she?” Elisa asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. But if he noticed her discomfort, he gave no sign as he answered.

     “She’s never been better,” he said truthfully. “She’s just in the other room watching Lil’ ScarJo,” he said, leading her deeper into the house. Elisa followed him towards the sound of the TV, suppressing a frown. She’d been at this house many times in the past, and it was disconcerting to see how all of Jennifer’s things, her presence in the house, had seemingly vanished overnight. The house was filled with toys now, trinkets of brightly coloured plastic were strewn around the floor alongside plush animals and wooden ABC blocks. Elisa blushed when she spotted the adult-sized plastic changing mat on the floor in the living room, involuntarily imagining Jennifer, the friend she’d known for years, laying on that mat, her feet up in the air, getting her womanly bottom wiped by her husband, in preparation of having a fresh pamper slid under her butt and fastened tightly round her squirming hips...

     “Sweetie pie,” he said, opening the door to the nursery, “Look who’s come to visit!”

     Jennifer looked over from the TV with eyes that were wide and curious, but devoid of any adult intelligence. A tiny flicker of recognition was followed by a wet smile from behind her pacifier, and Jennifer gave a jolly little gurgle of welcome. She crawled across the floor, thick diaper bulging and crinkling beneath her tight, pink romper with a cute little cartoon ducky on the front. Before Elisa knew what happening, her friend was on her knees at her feet, reaching up to grasp at her with clammy hands.

     “Um... Hey, Jennifer,” Elisa said uncertainly, cringing when the Adult Baby emitted a delighted squeal and buried her face playfully into Elisa’s thigh. “How-- how’re you doing?” she asked lamely, frowning when she felt her friend’s drool beginning to soak through the material of her pants.

     Jennifer couldn’t answer of course. She peered up at Elisa, her face cheerfully stupid, saliva dribbling down her chin... happy, but ignorant, lacking any kind of adult understanding or rationality.  There was a little something left, Elisa realized, some little flicker of her former memories that left Jennifer with just enough to remember who Elisa was... but nothing else.

     “What’s that you’re watching?” Elisa asked, trying to ease the discomfort. Jennifer proudly gestured towards the screen, and Elisa was treated to a glimpse of the Lil ScarJo Show, starring Hollywood A-Lister Scarlett Johansson, who had been one of the first famous women in America to fall victim to the new re-education laws. Rumour had it that her agent had signed her into the regression centre himself in order to secure this lucrative deal with one of the major networks. The result was a bizarre but popular prime time series that consisted of the beautiful blonde starlet (who now possessed the mind of a two year old) in a series of sketches that essentially served as propaganda for regression and re-education. Every episode, the adorable Lil’ ScarJo, often with the aid of celebrity guest stars, visited the doctor (where she was given a full physical on camera, including graphic rectal temp and enema scenes), or went to nursery school (with other regressed celebrities), or tried (and failed) potty training, and provided “demonstrations” on how to be a good baby-wife (which Elisa would describe as “frequently pornographic.”)

     “So Elisa,” her husband asked absently as he prepared a bottle for his baby-wife’s lunch, “how would you like to do a little baby sitting next week?”

     “Uhh,” she hesitated, “I don’t know if I--”

     “Or maybe a playdate?” He said with a chuckle. “Don’t tell me there’s nobody in your life that hasn’t thought about sending you in for re-education yet!”

     Elisa forced a hollow laugh... but as she looked at her friend’s cheerfully moronic expression, she decided she couldn’t allow it to happen to her. She had to get out... and there was only one person she knew who could help her now.

Elisa was brought back to the present by a stench that was foul, but growing distressingly familiar. Just a glance over at the couple at the next table told the story: The regressed woman had stopped in the middle of eating and had lifted herself as high off the seat as the tray in front of her would allow. Her face was still, her gaze distant, and if you looked closely, you could see her straining softly to herself. Elisa’s suspicions were confirmed when she glanced down towards the seat of the Adult Baby’s pamper, which was growing bulkier and saggier with each passing moment as she strained to load it with a big, heavy dump.

     “Uh oh,” The man said, wrinkling his nose. “Did somebody have herself a little accident?”

     His question was answered by a noisy, flatulent spattering from within his baby-wife’s diaper. Instantly, the bulge in her seat doubled in size and sagged visibly behind her, a dark stain spreading. She soon finished, and Elisa watched with horrified fascination as the regressed woman settled herself back into her seat with a slow squish, wiggling her bottom in the mess before opening her mouth to accept the next bite of her lunch.

     The smell was becoming quite strong, even where Elisa was sitting-- she gulped down the rest of her coffee and set a tip on the table before leaving.