Regression Crisis Chapter Six (Patreon)

I have to admit-- I knew Harley was popular, but I wasn’t expecting her to take over the story in quite the way that she has. For the sake of pacing (and to punch up the action a bit) I decided to briefly check in on Wonder Woman and company before getting back to Harley’s story... I know things have been a little slow up to this point, but the action starts really picking up from here on out. As always, thank you all so much for your continued support-- if you’re enjoying the story and you’d like to read more like it in the future then don’f forget to hit the like button and leave a comment below.

Also, a new character is introduced in this chapter-- if you'd like me to post a profile like I did for the paddler, just let me know in the comments.

Cuddled up in Wonder Woman’s arms, the Adult Baby that used to be Zatanna, Mistress of Magic, dozed, resting her cheek on the Amazon Princess’ shoulder sweetly. The events of the morning had been very trying for her, and she drifted in and out of sleep, gradually adjusting to her new lot in life.

     With Diana’s great strength, it was easy to support the overgrown toddler with only one arm beneath her padded rear end. Batgirl watched her comrade hefting a grown woman in a diaper casually, and Barbara couldn’t help thinking how much she looked just like a real mother handling her actual toddler.  

     Barbara shifted and squirmed, unconsciously tugging on the waistband of her tights and running her hands over her heavily padded tushy. The diaper was bulky, crinkly, and hot, and Barbara’s butt and pussy were starting to get really sweaty. Worse, her stomach was still bubbling uncomfortably, and she found herself farting softly every couple of minutes-- quite embarrassing, but the diaper muffled most of the noise. At least her bowels seemed to have settled down a bit... for the moment, anyway.

Nearby, Elizabeth-Ann Blaese, AKA Betsy Wetsy, observed the trio. They took no notice of her... and why would they? she thought with bratty self satisfaction. Even if they had seen her, all they’d see was another victim of Wolfe’s insane machinations-- just another pretty young woman transformed into an Adult Baby girl; an object of pity at best in her matching yellow bonnet and dress, her diaper (a little wet and squishy between her legs, she noticed with a blush) on full display. They would never suspect her secret until she struck... and by then, it would be too late for all of them.

     All she needed now was the boss’ go ahead... She’d been waiting patiently, keeping an eye on them from a distance, mostly resisting the urge to use her powers to cause a little general mischief, but... all this waiting is getting so boring, she thought, drumming her fingers against her bare thigh and sighing. Finally, the tedium got the better of her... she just had to do something to break up the monotony. Mr. Wolfe will never know, Betsy thought to herself, reaching out with her mind and grazing Big Baby Zatanna’s bladder ever so slightly...

     In Diana’s arms, the dozing Zatanna stirred a bit in her sleep, her bladder slackening, releasing a modest jet of pee into the fabric of the diaper that soaked it and turned it warm and yellow between her legs.

     Although it wasn’t much, Wonder Woman, with her enhanced senses, both heard and smelled the accident immediately. Sighing lightly, she reached around with her free hand and slipped her fingers into the leg hole of Zatanna’s onesie and diaper, finding it soaked.

     It wasn’t the only thing her enhanced senses detected... though Barbara’s bottom was wrapped up in a thick diaper, Diana was aware that she had been passing gas at regular intervals since she’d rejoined the group. “How’re you doing Batgirl?” she asked in an offhanded way, “do you need a diaper change yet?”

     Batgirl blushed and cringed, unconsciously tugging at the hem of her tights. “W-wha-what? No, uh, no thanks, Diana,” she said self consciously, glancing around to make sure nobody had heard.

     Giggling softly to herself, Betsy wiggled her fingers in Batgirls direction, nearly laughing out loud when she saw the change in the superheroine’s expression, her bladder involuntarily forcing a hot gush of pee into her pampers. She looks so cute in soggy diapers! Betsy thought with satisfaction. She turned her attention to Wonder Woman, her eyes drifting to the seat of her star-spangled bloomers.

     How unfortunate, Elizabeth thought with a smile.  Those won’t do anything at all to hide an accident.

     Impatiently, Betsy waited for Mr. Wolfe’s call, eager to take these smug super-bitches down a few pegs.

“Awww... who’s the cutest, most pouty little babe?”

     Ava chuckled to herself when she opened the back door of the car, revealing a very morose Harley Quinn strapped into an adult-size car seat, naked from the waist down but for her big puffy diaper. Folding her arms under her breasts, Dr. Quinzel couldn’t help sulking as she slurped on her paci-gag and turned away from The Paddler to gaze out the other window. Inside the diaper, her butt was still sizzling and throbbing from her spanking, the short-lived relief of the soothing cold cream long forgotten. Ava had really roasted her rump, and Harley knew it would be quite a while before she would be sitting comfortably again.

     “Cheer up, sweet-cheeks,” The Paddler said, unbuckling Harley from the car seat before scooping her up into her arms once again, easily carrying the grown woman against her hip with one hand while slamming the door with the other. Both hands now supporting Harley under her thickly pampered butt (is she copping a feel? Harley wondered, reluctantly resting her head against the woman’s shoulder), Ava wasted no time carrying Harley into the headquarters of Wolfe International.

And I thought I was crazy, Harley thought, taking in the sights and sounds of Wolfe’s headquarters.  

     If carrying Harley caused Ava even the slightest strain, she showed absolutely no sign of it. She hefted the blushing, diapered clown with ease, navigating the hallways without any pause or hesitation.  

     The building itself was largely like any other major American corporation: spacious, clean, bright and friendly (in a cool, faceless kind of way.) Harley noted the usual cubical dwellers, office drones and oily executive types you probably see in your own office every day.

     But one didn’t have to look closely to see that this was no ordinary office... in every direction she looked, there was at least one infantilized woman playing in a playpen or being rolled down the hallway in a stroller. They slurped on soothers and played with toys in their diapers with their puffy, plushly-padded diaper butts on display, and sat together in little clusters in large playpens set up in the corner of spacious offices and break-rooms. The scents of the nursery hung in the air everywhere they went, and even in areas thick with the traditional office smells of ink, paper, and ozone, the odour of baby powder, ointment, and the occasional messy diaper was never far away. Although there were a few women still wearing suits who seemed to be conducting regular business (or at least Adult Babysitting), Harley estimated that around 80% of the women she saw were sporting diaper bulges.

     Finally, Ava brought her into a sterile laboratory filled with monitors and computer equipment. A matching pair of what looked like dental chairs sat in the middle of the room-- Harley found herself settled in on her diapered bottom, and Ava quickly bound her to the chair with her hands above her by a set of thick leather straps around her wrists and ankles. Harley struggled in vain against her bonds... ordinarily, she didn’t mind being tied up, but she had a sinking feeling about where all this was going.

     Her stomach sank even further when Wolfe entered the room, grinning like the cat who swallowed the canary... and the way he was looking at her, Harley was beginning to feel like the canary!

     “Dr. Quinzel! A pleasure to finally meet you.” Glancing down at her diaper, he commented archly: “I see my colleague took it upon herself to update your wardrobe... prematurely.” He shot The Paddler a glance, and Harley nearly laughed out loud when she saw the tough-girl looking distinctly nervous.

     “Uh,” Ava stammered, squirming like a schoolgirl, “y’see... what happened... that is, she--”

     “We’ll discuss your-- disobedience-- later,” he said, and Harley grinned when she saw Ava break out into a blush. Her curiosity was definitely piqued, but she didn’t have time to satisfy it because moments later he dismissed The Paddler to “fetch their other guest.”

     Ava obeyed, eager to turn on her heel and exit. “I hope,” he said to Harley, going over to one of the tables, “you appreciate the trouble we went to arranging this little... reunion for you.”

     From the table he retrieved a headband attached to the computers by a pair of thin wires that he slipped over her crown with ease. “What are you talking about, you sick bastard?” Harley growled, struggling against the straps. “I don’t know anyone in this freak factory of yours!”

     “Ah,” Wolfe said, adjusting the headband in place, “but you do sweetheart. You know someone here quite, shall we say, intimately?”

     He went over to the monitors and made his adjustments, and Harley wracked her brain... who could it possibly...?

     “LET ME GO!” Harley heard her even before the door opened. No, she thought to herself, sitting up as best she could to get a better look at the door, it couldn’t possibly be...

     The door opened, and Harley was stunned when The Paddler returned carrying a very familiar face over her shoulder, the shock of flowing red hair a dead give away.

     “IVY?!” Harley barked, horrified (and a little titillated) at the sight of her former partner in crime (and a whole lot more, she reminded herself lustily) being manhandled by the powerful Paddler.

     “Harley?!” ‎Pamela ‘Poison Ivy’  Isley looked up in surprise, “What’re you doing here?”

     “Me?! What’re you doing here?!” Harley watched The Paddler strip the beautiful Ivy of her flimsy costume, revealing her beautiful, naked body. Harley smirked, taking in an eyeful-- nothing she hadn’t seen before, of course, but she never could get enough of Ivy’s loveliness... in or out of costume.

     Naked, the struggling Ivy was slammed into the seat next to Harley’s and strapped in. “I contracted Dr. Isley to do a little work on our... project.”

     “He’s insane!” Ivy cried, struggling against the restraints. “He wanted aphrodisiacs, diuretics, airborne laxative compounds...”

     “It’s true,”Wolfe said with a smile, picking up another headband. “Dr. Isley helped us develop many wonderful tools for our glorious mission.” He slipped the headband onto Ivy, making sure not to muss her hair too much as he a fixed it firmly.

     “You helped this lunatic?!” Harley asked incredulously, drawing a guilty look from Ivy.

     “Harley... I...”

     “What she’s trying to say is that she intended to double cross me, using my equipment and money to fund her own secret project... something about using vegetable matter to dominate the biosphere or something, correct Dr. Isley?”

     “Oh Ivy,” Harley said, disappointed. “Again with the plants? Girl, you gotta find yourself a new hobby...”

     “Shut-up, Harley!” Ivy barked, fixing Wolfe with an icy glare. “Spit it out, Wolfe... what are you going to do to us?”

     “I believe Dr. Quinzel will find this especially interesting,” he said enthusiastically. He clacked out a few commands on his keyboard. The large screen in front of them flickered to life. Harley noted the screen had been divided into two sections labelled ‘Isley’ and ‘Quinzel.’ Beneath, she saw several meters, each one handily labelled. Harley noted bars marked intelligence, continence, libido, memory, coordination, and obedience.

     “With this device, I’m able to manipulate these traits,” he explained, “raising or lowering them to the appropriate age range. With this machine, your minds are lumps of clay-- to mould into any shape I see fit.”

     “Oh, I see how it is,” Harley said, turning to face him as best she could, diaper crinkling under her butt. She’d been a rather prominent psychiatrist in her former life, after all, and it was fairly easy to diagnose what was going on here. “The big, strong man takes the mean, scary, ladies and reaches inside our brains, reducing us to a helpless, pacified state. And once we’ve been robbed of our agency and identity as free, powerful adult women, you can lord over us in our humiliation, thus asserting your ultimate, patriarchal power over a pair of helpless, beautiful women? Is that about right?”

     “Something like that,” Wolfe responded casually.

     “Mmmm... that sounds kinky!” Harley smiled wickedly.

     “Harley!?” Ivy uttered, shocked, unable to tell if her friend was bluffing or not... she knew the little bitch was nuts, but could she really be this crazy?

     “Shut up, Red! I’m sick your bossy bitchy BS!” She looked at Wolfe, her eyes flickering with mischief and desire. “I’ve only got two requests, Big Daddy.”

     “Oh?” Wolfe couldn’t help smiling. Like Poison Ivy, he had no idea if this was a ruse or not, but he was certainly enjoying it either way. “Such as...?”

     “Don’t take me down completely,” she begged in a husky whisper, her voice dripping with anticipation. “I want to know what it feels like to be a woman forced to behave like an infant... I want to be aware of who I was-- and what I’ve lost,” she said with a flirty flicker in her eyes.

     As Ivy gaped at her friend disbelievingly, Wolfe couldn’t help feeling a stirring in his loins, but he maintained a professional facade. “I think I can accommodate you... to a point, anyway. What’s your other request?”

     Harley turned and looked at Ivy, her expression sexy and teasing, filling Dr. Isley with dread. “Do her first,” Harley said lustily. “I want to watch... I want to see what I’m in for. And I want to see what Miss Bossy Britches looks like crawling around in a big diaper!”

What should our next installmennstalment focus on?