Regression Crisis Issue Seven (Patreon)

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It’s the waiting that’s always the hardest part, Elizabeth ‘Betsy Wetsy’ Blaese thought with a sigh. She’d taken up a place on a crowded playground in order to better blend in while she stalked her query and waited for Wolfe’s go ahead. Brilliant plan... but all these drooling Adult Toddlers were starting to get on her nerves. Like real babies, Wolfe’s regressees frequently had a hard time keeping their hands to themselves... a fact she was reminded of when the little blonde terror with the kissable red lips sitting next to her reached over and gave one of Betsy’s pigtails a savage tug.

    “Cut it out, you brat!” Betsy growled, shooting an angry look at the chortling 20 year old toddler. Grumbling, she turned her attention back to the trio of superheroines. Betsy grinned as she watched Wonder Woman casually checking big baby Zatanna’s oversized pampers like a pro, hefting her infantilized superfriend against her hip like a real mommy. I wonder if she’ll manage her own diapers quite so well, Blaese thought with a smile. I can’t wait to take that smug bimbo down...

She was distracted by the chiming of her phone. Finally, she thought, reaching into the discrete pocket on the front of her dress and taking out her phone (to the dull curiosity of the baby-women around her, who watched, memories of their own once ubiquitous devices flickering, but ultimately failing to manifest within their diminished minds.)

She grinned when she saw a simple text from Wolfe’s familiar number with one simple word: engage.

How cheesy can you get? she thought with a smile, tucking the phone back into her pocket. Elizabeth was about to rise when she felt another sharp tugging at her pig tail. Furious, she shot an angry look at the stupid, drool coated face of her tormentor, once again chortling mindlessly at her wit, staring into Betsy’s eyes, dumb and challenging, waiting for her to get angry, maybe even lash out at her.

     But Elizabeth didn’t get angry, didn’t raise her voice or react with violence. Instead, she simply smiled coldly into the round and ignorant face of the blonde bully, and winked knowingly.

    “Bombs away baby,” she said smoothly, wriggling her fingers in her adversary's direction, projecting her intentions forward like a bolt of pure will.

For Tara Bellding, 20-going-on-2-year-old bully of the playground, the effect was immediate and absolutely without warning. One moment, she was chuckling away at her wit, squirming on her diapered bottom and congratulating herself on another successful practical joke. Seconds later, without any urge or warning of any kind, she felt her back passage open, heard herself farting noisily, grunting ever so slightly when a mushy load of hot brown poopy surged out of her bum and flowed thickly into the seat of her thick, crinkly pampers.  

Tara gasped, knowing on some level she should probably try to regain control of herself, but the idea was a bad joke; even if she hadn’t had the required knowledge removed from her mind, she possessed neither the strength or the ability to stop her sphincter from opening, a huge, stinky mudpie thundering noisily into the seat of her pampers. Giggling with self satisfaction, Betsy sat back and watched, highly amused by the little grunts and squeaks Tara was making as she uncontrollably filled her pants.

The noises and smells drew instant stares and giggles from the other regressed women in the area. The regressees possessed an almost universal love of toilet humour, and soon Tara was surrounded by a ring of giggling Adult Babies, pointing and crinkling their noses in her direction.

Finally, the mess blurped to a finish. Tara sat for a moment, cloaked in a cloud of stink, her lips quivering before she burst into tears, getting up on her hands and knees, the seat of her diapers lumpy, bulging, and stained brown behind her. “Mommy! MMMMOOOMMMYYY!” she howled, melodramatic tears rolling down her cheeks, crawling for dear life towards the edge of the playground, poopy diaper wobbling behind her as she went.  

Elizabeth gave a sadistic little laugh (ignoring the feeling of her bladder going slack against her will, her diaper going warm and moist beneath her) before rising to her feet and walking towards her targets with a purpose... it was time to go to work.

Wonder Woman bounced Big Baby Zatanna in her arms softly and patted her thick diaper butt soothingly. The beautiful young woman was dozing soundly in Diana’s arms, clinging to her tightly with both her arms and legs. Diana would rather she just kept sleeping, but her pampers were getting awfully soggy-- the last thing she wanted was for her friend to get a diaper rash. Diana was now faced with deciding whether or not she should change her comrade’s pampers.

Nobody said leadership would be easy, Princess, she thought with a sigh, debating the matter in her mind... never suspecting that just a few feet away, Betsy Wetsy was about to make the decision for her.

So many deserving targets, so little time, Betsy thought, getting into a position from which she could strike any of the three heroines (well, two heroines and a drooling diaper babe, she thought with a grin.) She considered starting with Wonder Britches herself-- it would demoralize them as a group, make it easier for her to take control, and besides, who didn’t want to see those tight little bloomers all packed with poop?

Ultimately, however, the image of Zatanna majorly messing her diaper in Wonder Woman’s arms was simply too tempting for her to pass up-- and what better way to announce her presence? Elizabeth was charmed by the idea of having the drop on them-- of the mighty Wonder Woman and Batgirl knowing exactly what was going to happen to them... and there not being a thing they could do about it.  

With a naughty thrill, she gestured subtly, aiming a potent psionic bolt right at Zatanna’s bulky, crinkly tushy, watching gleefully, feeling the bolt make contact and...

The effect was almost instantaneous-- without any warning, a load of messy poo-poo suddenly erupted from the still sleeping Zatanna, filling the back of her diaper with a sizable fart.

She awoke in Diana’s arms with a start, emitting a surprised squeak. She was shocked to find she was in the midst of pooping her pampers, her back passage open to it’s absolute limit to accommodate the squelching, crackling mess that came thundering out of her. She gazed up at Diana, her wide eyes already brimming with tears, and tried to explain as best her regressed mind could:

    “MMMAAA-MMMAAA!” the ex-sorceress howled, clinging tightly to the powerful superheroine, the stink of her load beginning to emerge. “ME MAKE BOOM-BOOM! WWWAAAAHHAAAA!”

    “Oh my!” Diana exclaimed, feeling the load growing through the seat of Zatanna’s pampers. “Darling are you all right?” She asked, ever selfless and concerned, seemingly oblivious of the odour that was enveloping the area.

    “Believe it or not, she’s the least of your problems, princess!”

Diana turned towards the mocking voice and was stunned to see her challenger. In her frilly dress with her big (and apparently wet) diaper bulging quite visibly beneath it, she didn’t seem to pose much of a threat to the mighty Wonder Woman or the brilliant Batgirl.

But there was something about the way she carried herself, her swaggering, arrogant manner cut through her ridiculous appearance, that made Diana wary-- Wolfe was a clever man; Diana knew he was sure to surround himself with equally formidable individuals.

    “Call me... Betsy Wetsy,” Elizabeth said, her voice rich and sensuous, “and I’m here to mess up your day!”

Batgirl snorted derisively. “Betsy Wetsy? Boy, these villains are really running out of--”

    “Pipe down, Brat-girl,” Betsy commanded, casually aiming a finger in her direction.

With a gasp, Barbara once again felt her bladder loosen against her will, the already soaked and soggy pamper between her legs growing dangerously saturated.  

    “Batgirl! Are you OK?” Wonder Woman asked, simultaneously bouncing Zatanna in her arms, trying unsuccessfully to calm her down.

    “I’d start worrying about myself, if I were you,” Betsy said with a cold smile, watching as Wonder Woman settled Zatanna down on a nearby bench, the adult baby squirming and fussing when the poopy load in her pants squished under her bottom. “You’re going to look so cute with a steaming hot load in your britches!”

   “Why are you helping Wolfe?” Diana asked fiercely, determined to face what came with a warriors dignity.

    “I’m just levelling the playing field, honey... if I can’t keep my pants clean why should you?” she asked spitefully, pointing her finger at the Amazon Princess and preparing to strike.

    “NO!” Barbara cried. She knew instinctively that Diana was a symbol of something much larger than any of them.. she couldn’t allow anything to happen to Wonder Woman... no matter what the cost!

Almost without thinking, Barbara threw herself in front of Diana moments before Elizabeth fired. Batgirl couldn’t feel the impact of the bolt, but she could feel it’s effects almost immediately. For the second time that day, she felt her buttocks parting, felt her sphincter dilate, without her consent, and felt her body forcing out a large poopy load, totally beyond her control.

She gave an anguished cry, collapsing into Diana’s arms, the diaper growing heavy and lumpy behind her. Her eyes locked on Diana’s, who instantly understood her friend’s sacrifice... she didn’t intend to let it go to waste.  

After helping Barbara to her feet, Diana began to move, sprinting headlong for a nearby bus shelter.  Correctly surmising that Betsy’s powers could only work if she was within the villain's direct line of sight, Diana poured on the speed in a desperate attempt to avoid falling victim the way her comrades had.  

    “Hold still, damn you!” Betsy roared, throwing her hands out and tossing bolts at random. Wonder Woman gritted her teeth and pumped her legs furiously, narrowly avoiding Betsy’s shots, acutely aware of the screams and curses of the innocent bystanders as Betsy’s bolts slammed into them behind her, the sounds of farty messes filling panties and urine spattering to the ground filling her ears. Behind her, women were screaming and moaning and grunting, Betsy’s errant bolts causing them to spontaneously piss and shit their panties or diapers, filling Diana with fury... this little brat needed to be taught a serious lesson!

Diana ducked behind the bus shelter.. but she didn’t remain hidden for long. Stooping, she scooped up a handful of gravel from the path. Moments later, she was on the move again-- right after hurling the handful of pebbles at Betsy’s face.

    “Aaagh!” Elizabeth cried, throwing up her arms just in time to avoid a face-full of rocks. “You bloody bitch! I’m gonna make you shit your brains out!”

But Betsy had lost sight of her opponent for one crucial second... and that was all the Amazonian Princess needed to gain the advantage.

The diapered villainess spun on her heel in desperate search of her foe-- and she was just in time to see Diana tossing her brilliantly glowing lasso in her direction... and there was no way she’d have a chance to dodge.

    “No!” Betsy had time to yell, feeling the rope glide over her, then cinch tightly around her waist, pinning her arms at her sides, effectively rendering her powers useless.

She wriggled and squirmed, hopping up and down ridiculously... all for naught. The lasso was pulled tight, and when she saw Wonder Woman smile in her direction, Elizabeth felt her bladder go loose inside her, the pamper between her legs going warm and wet once more.

    “YEEE!” she cried sharply when Diana gave the rope a strong pull, sending Betsy hurtling through the air towards her.

Dazed and dizzy, Betsy realized she was literally in the powerful princess’ hands, her feet dangling several inches off the ground.

    “You little brat!” Diana growled in her face, baring her teeth. “Your conduct is not only dishonourable... it’s absolutely childish! Someone ought to teach you a good lesson, young lady!”

The mere threat was enough to overwhelm Betsy Wetsy’s delicate bowels; without warning, she started pooping her pants uncontrollably, her diaper going lumpy and brown behind her. Diana was surprised to find herself actually smiling at this turn of events. Listening to Betsy’s diaper filling with a symphony of farts and squishes, she knew the villainess’ comeuppance was only beginning.

What should Betsy’s punishment be?