Regression Crisis Chapter Three (Take Two) (Patreon)

(Sorry everyone, I made a mistake on this one and had to start it over.)

As always, thank you all so much for your support... if you like the story and you want to see more like it then don't forget to hit like and leave a comment below.

I just wanted to say first of all that I’m sorry to anyone who was put off by the last instalment. I think maybe I got a little carried away and it wound up coming across a little too dark. I think my approach to this story was a bit off, so I’m going to be changing things a little bit in future instalments. I also know it seems a lot like another mechanical nursery story at the moment, but I promise there’s going to be more human contact in the future.

The other thing I want to address: people keep asking about Wonder Woman (just skip the next section if you don’t want to know, but I’m gong to try and avoid spoilers):

Diana is kind of the centrepiece of the story, and in a way it’s ultimately about her running the gauntlet... and Wolfe trying to chip away at her a bit at a time. So you’re going to have to wait a bit but the payoff will (hopefully) be worth it.

Wonder Woman watched, her stoic expression hiding the sick sense of horror and revulsion she felt as the once powerful Zatanna pissed into her diapers noisily, the stream striking the fabric with a loud pittering. The magician’s thumb was in her mouth, muffling her wails... but the tears still streamed down her cheeks, even as her bladder finally spurted to a stop, and she stomped her feet and pumped her free hand in the air beside her... just like a fussy toddler, Diana thought grimly. Apparently, whatever had affected Zatanna had done more than simply transform her wardrobe... her mannerisms, her body language... none of it matched up with the person Diana had known and fought beside for years.

     Her theory was proven correct when, moments later, Zatanna lost her balance and toppled backwards heavily onto her plushly padded posterior, blinking once or twice, shocked, before she started crying even harder. Fixing her huge, wet eyes on Diana, she reached out towards her imploringly, flexing her fingers open and closed to signal that she needed comfort.

     “Mama!” She cried tearfully, “Me fall on my bottom!” she whined pitifully before collapsing into incoherent tears.  

     Diana didn’t hesitate. Her maternal instinct kicked in almost immediately, and she bent down without hesitation, scooping the disgraced former superheroine up under her arms and pulling her in for a hug, which Zatanna returned with gusto, wrapping her arms and legs around Diana tightly. She pulled the Adult Toddler in close, her diapered bum squishing wetly against Diana’s hand, and whispered soothingly in her ear. Within minutes of entering the zone her team was in utter disarray, and though she wanted to provide comfort to her distressed friend, the mission was more important... she had to get things back on track.

     “Supergirl,” she said, keeping her voice calm and level. The girl, still barely out of her teens, looked a little shell-shocked, and Diana knew she had to get her back in the game before she froze up. “Take up a position on the rooftop and watch for trouble.”

     “R-right,” the young Kryptonian replied, unable to keep the tremor from her voice. Diana watched her rise majestically into the air and settle on the roof above, scanning the city with her bright blue eyes, grimly searching for signs of trouble.  

     That left poor Barbara... and there was only one person left to check on her. Diana didn’t trust Harley at the best of times, and she and Batgirl obviously had a... contentious history. But with her own hands full, quite literally, with the crying Zatanna, there was nobody else to do the job.

     “Harley... go check on Batgirl, please,” she said seriously, frowning when she saw the clown’s manic smile.

     “It would be my pleasure... Wonder Woman!”

Perched atop her trashcan, purple tights around her ankles, wracked by round after round of alternating cramps and noisy, farty diarrhea, the miserable Batgirl realized she couldn’t remember ever being so humiliated before, and certainly not on duty. She’d always tried to bring an air of grace and dignity to her role as Batgirl.

     A powerful cramp twisted her guts, and Barbara let out an anguished grunt, her cheeks reddening, a mushy gush from her rear end spattering the trashcan below with a load of gassy poop. She’d never felt less graceful and dignified in her life. God... if I can just get through this without getting spotted by some gawker with a smartphone, she thought, noisily dumping out another brown spatter, I’ll be so grateful, I’ll--

     “Hey Bat-brat! Say ‘cheese!’”

     “Huh?” Barbara said stupidly, turning her head just in time to see Harley standing there with her phone, laughing as she filmed the superheroine’s humiliation.  

     “Eeekk!” She screamed, covering her face and turning away, though the damage was already done. “Put it away!” she cried, her agitation stirring up her bowels again and causing another diarrhea detonation, the squishy farts amplified by the can.

     “That garbage can will be available on Ebay within the hour, ladies and gentlemen,” Harley laughed, zooming in on Batgirl’s blushing face.

     “Harley, get out of here!” Batgirl screeched, pounding her fists into her bare thighs and drumming her heels against the side of the can. “Can’t I have a little privacy?!”

     “No way, sweet cheeks,” Harley said, pretending to lower her camera (but secretly sneaking shots of  Batgirl’s neatly trimmed pussy.) “Wonder Babe told me to help you with your bat-diarrhea... I’d hate to disobey an order,” Harley said, smiling malevolently.

     “Could you-- uuhhhh...” Batgirl cut herself off with a groan, her bowel cramping again, colon filling with gas and mush once more. The pressure built rapidly, quickly becoming uncontrollable, and Barbara blushed behind her mask as she released another muddy butt-blast. “Could you at least find me something to wipe with?”

     “I’m on the case!” Harley replied. Strutting boldly onto the street, she proceeded to announce to the world:

     “Attention citizens! We’ve got a superheroine in severe intestinal distress over here!” She called in her loud, squawking voice. “That’s right ladies and gentlemen: it’s a diarrhea emergency that threatens to stinkify the whole neighbourhood! The Justice League officially requests your assistance.”

     “Oh God!” Barbara groaned, hiding her face. She just preyed nobody could see her where she was sitting.  

     “What about you, ma’am?” Harley asked a matronly looking woman in her 40’s pushing her college  age daughter down the street in an oversized stroller. “Can we count on you to do your civic duty?”

     “Oh... Well, I suppose,” the woman stammered, allowing Harley to lead her and her daughter into the alley.

     “Why me?” Batgirl uttered in a shaky voice, hiding her face when she saw the newcomers approaching.  

     “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” Harley asked the woman, who couldn’t help staring at Batgirl with a suppressed smirk.

     “Helen Crenshaw,” the woman said, “and this is my daughter June.” She gestured to the girl in the stroller, who gurgled in response to hearing her name. A pretty, pixieish girl of about college age, she sucked her soother and regarded Barbara’s situation with a giggle, her chin wet with drool.

     “Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Crenshaw asked, politely suppressing a smile.

     “I... I...” Batgirl stammered, wonder exactly how she could ever explain the situation.

     “Our friend cast a diarrhea spell on her,” Harley explained casually to the confused, and increasingly amused Helen Crenshaw. “Do you have anything we can use to wipe her Bat-Butt?”

     “Harley!” Batgirl barked, infuriated with Harley’s constant attempts at embarrassing her.

     “Hey, do you want help or not?” Harley asked pointedly. “Besides, that’s what happened, right?”

     Barbara opened her mouth to respond... but before she could, her bowels answered for her, a twisting cramp producing an uncontrollable mess pushed out by an embarrassing fart, the spattering noise amplified by the makeshift, aluminum toilet.

     “Oh my! Well, you can use these baby-wipes!” Helen chirped cheerfully, producing a container of Wolfe brand Adult Baby wipes, the label on the front displaying a pretty adult model sucking her soother during a diaper change.

     “You done yet, Bats?” Harley said, accepting the container.

     “I-- I think so,” Barbara replied, unsure if she was or not, but little caring at this point. She could re-locate to an actual bathroom later, if need be... she had to get out of this embarrassing situation immediately.

     She reached for the container, watching in confusion when Harley instead drew a cloth from it and looked at her expectantly.

     “NO WAY!” Batgirl said firmly when she realized what Harley wanted.

     “Come on, Bats,” Harley said, taking the superheroine by the arm and pulling her to her feet, her tights still around her knees, bare ass and pussy on full display. Barbara reached down and covered herself bashfully, but Harley just gestured.

     “Turn around, baby-cakes,” she commanded firmly. Batgirl’s mouth fell open, and she looked to Mrs. Crenshaw and June for support. But they just looked at her expectantly, and after an angry sigh, Barbara turned and bent over to present her bottom to Harley.

     “I’m sorry,” Harley said, grinning at the sight of Batgirl’s plump derriere. She’d had a little crush on the heroine for a while now, and having this kind of power over her was making Harley’s heart pound in her chest. “Could you stick your butt out just a little more, dear?”

     Nostrils flaring, Batgirl sucked in an angry breath and reluctantly complied with Harley’s demand, arching her back and sticking her very dirty backside out towards the smiling she-clown.

     “Thank you!” Harley chirped cheerfully, pressing the cold wet-wipe between Batgirl’s buns and giving her messy crack a long, slow wipe, smiling when she gave a surprised squeak in response. “Yikes!” Said Harley, looking at the thick brown smear she’d accumulated on the cloth. Discarding it into the trash, she quickly drew another and gave Barbara’s backside another long, slow wipe, grinning when she shivered in response, the pale pink flesh of her buttocks breaking out into goose pimples.

     Harley remembered the times when Batgirl had the advantage over her... the number of time’s she been tied up or cuffed and marched into the police like a naughty little girl. Now the shoe was on the other foot in a most delightful way, and Harley took her time, wiping Barbara’s messy hiney, relishing the power she had over her.

     Finally, she was finished, and Harley cleaned her hands of with a couple of wipes while the shamefaced Batgirl reached to tug up her tights.

     “Excuse me?” They both turned towards Mrs. Crenshaw, who was holding up one of June’s bulky adult diapers, unfolded and just waiting for some girl’s bottom. “Would you like to borrow this? Just in case I mean.”

     Batgirl shook her head emphatically. “No...”

     “Yes!” Harley cried, yanking the crinkly plastic garment from Mrs. Crenshaw and walking towards Batgirl with an evil grin.

     “Whoa... no way! I’m serious Harley... get out of here!” She squealed, shuffling backwards as best she could with her tights around her knees.

     But it was a simple matter for Harley to catch up with her, and almost before she knew it, Barbara found the diaper pulled up tightly between her thighs and taped up firmly around her waist.  

     “Harley! Stop it!” she demanded, dismayed by how much she sounded like a whiny little girl.  

     But it was too late. Harley had finished adjusting the bulky, colorful adult diaper and was in the process of pulling up her tights.

     “Wow, no panties! You naughty girl!” she whispered with a naughty little grin.

     “Harley, stop!” Batgirl cried when the cackling clown struggled to squeeze the diaper into the tights. “It won’t fit!”

     But Harley insisted, and with the help of Mrs. Crenshaw, she was able to pull the tights up, barely, over Barbara’s bulging, crinkling bottom, leaving Batgirl blushing with an obvious diaper under her costume.

Watching the proceedings from his HQ, Wolfe was delighted with the way things were going. Time to start planning my next move, he thought, sighing, studying his monitors carefully, trying to decide who the next victim would be.

Who should Wolfe target next?