The Transformation - Part 7 (Patreon)

Here's the final three parts, at least for now, of this story, as always, captioned by one of my anonymous Patrons. Pictures property of Little Babe Cakes.

Things only got worse from there. Being able to choose her own clothes for work hardly helped at all, when she had to wear diapers underneath... 

She had very few pairs of pants loose enough to hide the bulge, and not a lot of shirts long enough to cover her crotch and make up for tighter pants. Even though she hated to admit it, skirts actually seemed like a good solution...

It definitely didn't help that Alex made her wear two of her skull diapers to work, the day after her big punishment. Even in her loosest jeans, and her longest shirt, she was positive everyone had to know what she was wearing... Surely, they heard her, anytime she had to move, saw how her stride had been changed by the double layer of fluffy padding between her thighs, smelled the baby powder Alex had so liberally poured onto her...

Because of that, she moved as little as possible, waiting as long as she could before heading to the bathroom. Even making it there didn't guarantee a victory, unfortunately... If there was anyone else there, even if she could put several stalls between them and her, she didn't dare try to untape, or shimmy out of, her diapers to use the toilet, afraid they'd hear, and figure out what was going on.

Only when she was alone in the bathroom, and could lock the main door behind her, was she brave enough to try that... She tried waiting the other people out a time or two, when there weren't that many, but usually, as they were leaving, someone else came in, and she couldn't wait forever, not without somebody noticing she'd been missing for a while and starting to ask questions.

All of that, combined, led to her first real accident at work. Once or twice, she'd dribbled a little into her Goodnite, which had been humiliating enough; this time, sitting at her desk, anxiously squirming and watching the bathroom door, waiting for the woman she'd seen go in come back out, she wasn't able to hold it anymore, and completely drenched her diaper. It was a completely different experience, feeling the padding beneath her grow warm, and wet, and squishy, while she sat at her desk, knowing she was stuck in that until she got home, realizing, after some fidgeting, that there was no escaping it, no way to sit that didn't remind her of the incredibly infantile thing she'd just done.

Afterwards, there didn't seem like much point in even bothering to try the bathroom anymore that day, so she resigned herself to just using her diapers. She also stopped being defensive whenever somebody complimented her on the stupid hair bow... Nobody had ever seen her wear anything like that before, so it seemed like they all wanted to say something. "That's cute," or, "Oh, that really looks good!" as if they wanted to reassure her that she should keep at it, as if she were trying something new on her own, and not as some dumb punishment.

Before wetting herself, she'd ignore them, or give them an indifferent, "Whatever," but now, not wanting to risk any more of a conversation, to make sure they left as quickly as possible and didn't pick up on the faint, ammonia smell of her diaper, she'd mumble, "Thanks," and get back to work.

The whole ordeal had left her feeling pretty defeated, but that was just the beginning... When she got home, there was a package waiting, addressed to Alex, even though she was certain it was meant for her. With the previous day's spanking still fresh on her mind - and her still sore backside - she didn't dare change herself, or even open the package to see which design he'd chosen... There were none that would have made her happy, other than the ones she'd gotten herself that had made him so unhappy.

"You got a package!" she announced helpfully as soon as he got home, having just hurriedly slipped out of her pants for him since he wanted her just in shirts and diapers at home now, hoping he'd let her see what was in the box, so she'd at least know, and be able to prepare herself, mentally. Instead, he took the box back to their room, on his own.

Not wanting to seem too eager - it wasn't like she wanted them, no matter what girly, babyish thing was printed across the front - she made herself wait as long as possible before toddling to the room. "Umm, Alex?" she said quietly. "I-I really need a change..."

"Oh?" He turned, walking over to her and checking her. "Yes, you do... Aren't you glad I doubled you up? With just one, I bet you would have leaked all over yourself."

Ashley blushed, staring down at her feet, waiting for him to get this over with, but he stayed still, and quiet, until she realized he wanted her to say, "Y-Yeah." She wasn't glad she had to be in these things at all, much less that he'd made her wear two... It really was good that she hadn't gotten her pants, or chair, or the floor at work, wet on top of that, though.

"You could at least sound like you mean it," he shook his head. "Go on... Thank me."

She gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, wanting to get this over with. "Thanks," she barely kept from rolling her eyes.

"For what?" he asked.

She glared at him. Was he really going to make her say it?! After a tense few moments, it was clear that, yes, indeed, he was. "For double diapering me," she continued, not daring to look away from him now, to seem ashamed, or bashful.

"And why is that so good?" he pressed.

She couldn't help herself that time, images of what could have been starting to flood her mind. She ducked her eyes back down towards her shuffling toes. "S-So I didn't leak all over myself..." she stammered.

"You're welcome," he kissed her on the top of the head. "I already put your new diapers in your drawer... Go get me one, while I pick out another shirt for you to wear, and I'll get you all fixed up."

Obediently, Ashley waddled over to her dresser, heart thumping as she grabbed the drawer, wondering what she'd find in there, positive it would be pink, and girly, and... It was, instead, those white diapers, the worst of them all. She barely kept from gasping out loud at the sight of them, all laid out, like her Goodnites had been, before she ran out, and her underwear, before then. They were there, pure white, extra thick, and, to her mind, extremely infantile.

There was no way he could have known those were the ones she'd hated the most... Surely, he'd just assumed that he was doing her a favor, picking out ones that were pretty plain. But, as she picked one up, taking it over to the bed for him to tape onto her, she couldn't help feeling like she was truly moving back in time years and years, being taken back years and years, being turned into a helpless little baby girl...