San Bambina Chapter Sixteen (Patreon)

Sorry about that foul up yesterday, everyone. It was embarrassing, but in a  way I'm kind of glad, since this next section is my favourite part of the series (so far, anyway.) If you enjoy it, I hope you'll let me know by hitting like and leaving a comment below.

And keep your eyes pealed for a new art project with TrapDiaper starting sometime this month!

Still feeling fatigued and a little out of it from whatever they put in her bottle before she passed out, Staci resisted a bit, but in the end, it was all to easy for agent Long and Mary to first strip her naked but for her fresh diaper, then dress her. They roughly tugging a tight t-shirt over her head and threading her skinny arms through the sleeves, then banded her hair up in a pair of little pig tails. Fuming, Staci scowled the whole time, but when her squirming got to be too much, Mary landed a sharp swat that drew a gasp behind her soother and left a red mark on her plump white thigh, just below the seat of her diaper.

“You better hold still, young lady,” Mary said sternly. “Believe me when I say it would be a pleasure to take down your diaper and warm your little fanny!”

Marissa Long suppressed a snort of laughter as she finished on Staci’s hair.

“Just for that little outburst, no bottoms for you you, Staci! I was at least going to let you have a skirt, but now you can run around with your diaper on display for everyone.”

Staci made a disappointed noise, but Mary simply chuckled. “Stop your whining. It’ll make it easier to check you for accidents anyway. Now: Lift your foot,” Mary commanded, ordering Staci to step first into her socks, then her shoes, one foot at a time.

“You remember, Little Girl,” Mary said, tying Staci’s shoes for her. “Be on your best behaviour this afternoon, and remember: these Daycare centres are much better than a trip to the Regression Wing at the state penitentiary.”

Staci rolled her eyes, but she knew Mary was probably right. She had absolutely no desire to receive a full regression sentence, especially of what she’d already experienced at the university was any indication of what it was like.

She was led into the back yard, where an adult-sized stroller was waiting. Mary and Marissa helped her into the seat and buckled her in firmly. Staci tugged at the straps as fiercely as she could, but in her weakened condition she was having trouble getting a grip on it, and she couldn’t seem to find the buckling system (which, unknown to her, was located on the outside of the stroller, so only mommy and daddy could release the occupant.) She fumed, but there seemed to be little she could do for the moment.

She sat back and bided her time, folding her arms under her breasts and scowling as they rolled her out on the street. Her cheeks burned, and she struggled to sink down into her seat... but she soon realized that there was little point in being embarrassed; everywhere she looked, there were other girls about her age toddling down the street holding the hand of a loved one or straining at the end of the leash... at least I’m not on one of those yet, she thought, watching a gorgeous college-age blonde blissfully toddle down the street on the end of a purple leash with her diaper on full display. It was degrading... but something told her that whatever Mary and Agent Long had planned for her was probably going to be even worse.

It was warm out, the tropical heat tempered to a comfortable temperature by a cool breeze, and Staci was thankful to at least be able to enjoy the weather while she was here... though she wasn’t sure how much she’d actually be able to enjoy it with a diapered, crinkling bottom. The sun was delightfully toasty on her bare legs and arms, making the short trip to Playcare a little more bearable.

The Playcare center was a large, brightly coloured building that resembled a warehouse that looked like it had been decorated by Mother Goose: soft, pastel pink and blue gave it a soothing appearance, but the mascot, a large, somewhat menacing cartoon stork carrying a diapered girl of about 20, didn’t put her at ease as the automatic doors slid open to accommodate the three of them.

As Staci had expected, the Playcare was essentially the sort of indoor playground that parents in the States would take kids to for a birthday party-- on steroids, that is, she thought, surveying the area from her stroller with a kind of wonder. Contained within high mesh enclosures, there were slides, ball pits, trampolines, flying foxes, rings for climbing, and a network of brightly coloured tubes large enough to crawl through running above and throughout it all, connecting the different areas. Near the front was the parents area, where caregivers could get a meal and watch their ‘little ones’ play.

Normally, the price was $50 per hour, but Agent Long’s C.R.I.B. membership carried many privileges, and Staci was admitted for free. She resisted Mary’s attempts to take her hand, but relented when Agent Long delivered another painful swat to the top of her thigh, just beneath the seat of her diaper. She had a feeling she might be here for a while, and she had no desire to start this little adventure with a sore, spanked bottom.

So she let Mary take her hand and led her to the entrance, which Agent Long graciously held open for her, grinning in a way that made Staci nervous.

“Have fun, honey!” Mary said, ushering her inside with a firm pat to her bulging, diapered rear.

Reluctantly, Staci toddled through the entrance, the diaper crinkling noisily with every step she took, the thick padding forcing her to waddle. She had the impression of being on the set of one of those old Nickelodeon game shows-- especially when she realized that gaining entrance to the rest of the playground required crawling into a round hole on the far wall. Frowning at it, Staci leaned forward a bit to peer inside, seeing only a dim light at the end.

Peeking back at Mary and Agent Long over her shoulder, she received only big smiles and encouraging gestures in response. Taking a deep breath, she carefully climbed inside the large, round opening and crawled inside.

The rounded tunnel was lined with soft fabric that made the crawl comfortable, but slow going. The tunnel extended for about 50 yards in front of her, and for a while it was easy going-- but shortly past the mid-way point, Staci realized it was getting smaller, her head bumping up against the padded ceiling, the walls getting tighter around her shoulders. Staci wasn’t claustrophobic, but she was starting to feel hot, and her breathing was growing ragged and panicked.

At last she was near the end, the exit only about four feet away. But the tunnel was getting tight now, the walls constricting her body, and she had to wiggle and squirm her way through every single inch on her tummy. Staci groaned, realizing the exit was only slightly bigger than her head, which she gratefully pushed through into daylight, sucking in deep breaths of fresh air and enjoying the cool breeze on her face. She worried she was stuck in this ridiculous position, but quickly realized the exiting aperture was stretchy enough to accommodate her shoulders... provided she wiggled and squirmed enough.

So Staci struggled, twisting her shoulders and pumping her diapered butt up and down behind her, forcing herself out, little by little. She worked her shoulders free, and then it was a simple matter to free her arms, and then simply brace herself against the wall and pull herself out.

It wasn’t until she managed to pull her thickly padded rump from the tiny exit and began plummeting to earth with a panicked shriek, that she realized she maybe should have paid closer attention to her surroundings before she pulled herself free.