You awaken lying on an operating table, a bright light in your face. Your arms and legs are restrained, and you are naked except for your briefs. The last thing you remember, is being on a road on your way south, through Mexico, down to South America. Then, there was a big, blinding light up above, and the next thing you knew, was blacking out, and here you were.
In years passed, people had reported such phenomena, saying they had been abducted by aliens. Recently, however, it had been revealed to the public, that this was a method that special branches of law enforcement, and the government, used to bring people in, especially highly dangerous people. Whether previous such encounters had been the government as well, having implanted false memories of aliens in their victim’s heads, or had been actual alien abductions, was unknown, since the government refused to answer any questions about such events.
At any rate, it was 99 percent sure, that this had been an abduction by the government, and that you would soon be seeing a bunch of clowns in suits, rather than a bunch of little green men. Sure enough, after a few minutes, you look up to see two men and one rather stern woman in business attire, walking in the door.
“Ah,” one of them begins, looking at a chart, apparently reading aloud from it, “John Shanks”
“That’s SHANKS!” you correct.
“Right,” he says, sarcastically, “Mr…John-Sorry-Shanks, mercenary, terrorist, and spy, with experience in three different companies.” (The world, having been taken over by one government, was now divided up into companies, rather than countries. )
“Yeah, so what of it??”
“Well, it seems the First lady, has a bit of an assignment for you,” Says the woman, who is wearing a rather professional looking skirt suit.
“Does it involve some sick fantasy of tying me down to a table, half naked?”
The woman giggles at your predicament, then replies:
“Not exactly, but I’ll let her explain.” Just as she finishes, the door opens, and in comes a tall, stern-looking woman you recognize as the first lady. In her ate 30’s she still has a really hot body, and a nice, strong-looking face.
“Oh great. Here come the Americans!” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Silince!” Says the man standing beside you, as he slaps you in the face. You turn your face towards him, snarling in anger, as you struggle against your bonds.
“Trust me,” says the other man, “You ARE going to want to take on this assignment. Now listen to what the First Lady has to say.
“Thank you, Mr. Jones.” She says to him. “Now then, I will try to be brief, since your time is short, as we will explain, shortly. I am sure you’ve heard of DC, right?”
“That prison colony for fetishists? Yeah, why, you planning a vacation? Need some discipline, Ms First Lady. The man moves to slap you again, and you quickly turn back to him.
“TRY IT, I DARE YA!”
But the first lady quickly waves her hand to stop the two of you.
“Yes, it is indeed a place for unusual criminal cases, and extremely unruly children to be sent, to be diapered and treated as babies. You probably also know about the Super Nannies, genetically inhanced girls who grew to be between 10 and 15 feet tall women, and who now reside over the colony as caregivers. Well, as you may know the colony has been used less and less, of late, due to rumors about the Nannies going crazy, and a rebellion amongst their charges. Supposedly, now, the Nannies attack and babify any pilots who land there.
“Yeah, what does this have to do with me, And Why the Hell Am I Strapped to a Table Half Naked??”
She simply smirks at you.
“Well, you see, my husband, the First Man, has gone and done something rather rash, of late. He and my daughter Clara recently got into a fight, and shortly after, her father, having totally lost all patience with her, called in the Diaper Round Up Gang, or DRUG, a group of ex-security officers, who secretly work for the Nanny’s from outside. We don’t know how the Nannies are contacting them, since no one gets out of there, any more. But the point is, the DRUG has taken her to DC, and she hasn’t been heard from , since. So, your mission, and trust me, you WILL choose to accept it, is to infiltrate the colony, find our daughter, and find a way out of DC. But first, we need to get you properly dressed and equipped. Shannon?” She called. The Door opens, and in walked 40-something woman in a nurse uniform, while the First Lady continues talking.
“You see, if you’re going to go into DC, you need to be dressed like the locals. Anyone caught not wearing diapers, is immediately captures, and subjected to corporal punishment, before being taken to the I C, that is, infant containment.”
“Alright,” cooes the nurse woman, in a very matronly tone, as if speaking to a child, “Let’s just get these off, and get you into a nice, fresh, diaper.”
The woman in the business suit begins snickering, as the nurse reaches for the waistband of your underwear.
“HOLD ON! Wait a minute! I haven’t even agreed to anything yet, you over cocky freaks! I’m not letting you put me in diapers! SCREW THAT!”
“Fine by me,” says the First Lady, matter-of-factly, “ Come on then, Nicole. We can wait till he needs them, later.
“Wait WHAT??” you exclaim, wondering just what the hell she means by that.
“That’s right, Shanks, you’ll be wearing diapers soon enough, either way…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh… I’m sorry,” she says, smugly, “I forgot to mention… You see, we’ve already implanted a device inside you. After..” she checks her watch 71.5 hours, it will activate, rendering your bowels and bladder, completely useless, PERMINATELY! So, you can either where diapers now, or wait till you really need them in a few days, it’s up to you.”
“FINE!” you groan, reluctantly. “Let’s get this over with!”
“Good boy!” she cooes, patronizingly. With that, the nurse begins undoing your underwear, pulling it off of you. Then, you feel your ankle binding being raised up, lifting your legs and butt up off of the table. She slips a diaper under you. By this point, you are trying to blush as little as possible, but the woman in a suit is making this very hard, as she has gone from subtle snickering, to giggling, to laughing out loud.
“Alright , Megan, “the First Lady says, “Let’s go wait for him in the next room..”
“Darn.” She says, with mock disappointment. “Fine.” And the four of them all file out, while the woman begins rubbing oil all over your private parts. You gasp, as you feel her oily finger being shoved up your butt hole. “GEEZE!” You say, under your breath.
“Sorry, Hon,” she cooes, “But we don’t want you getting diapy rash.”
“no, wouldn’t want that, would we?” you sarcastically mumble. Next, she covers you with baby powder, and then wraps a thick, disposable diaper around your loins. For just a moment, you can’t help noticing how soft and fluffy the material feels around your most sensitive parts, you shake your head, dashing such thoughts, as she finally lets you up off the table.
“There!” She says. Then, suddenly, she begins feeling all over your crotch and butt. It’s hard to deny the excitement you feel, just as you had when her hands were rubbing oil all over you.
“Hey, what are you doing!” You say.
“Just making sure it’s got a nice fit!” she says, giving you one last, final pat on your butt.
“Fine!” he said, angrily, but when she comes back, YOU have to be the one to talk to her!”
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