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By: Diapered Gurl
Christy had been through a lot. She was only 21, but she felt she had lived an entire life. She was 5’2, 115 pounds, blonde curly hair, with gorgeous thighs, for she was a cheerleader at St. Martin ’s University in Arkansas . She was the classic Southern Belle, complete with the accent. However, she hadn’t been using it over the past few days, because she had been depressed. As she lay up in her dorm room, Christy lamented over the coming midterms. “I can’t believe midterms are already here. I am so unprepared.” She looked at the clock and read that it was 3 pm . She then contemplated studying for her Italian midterm, which happened to be the next day, but she fell asleep instead.
When Christy awoke, she yawned, stretched, rubbed her eyes and picked up her Italian textbook. Looking at the clock, she realized that it was 9 pm . She had slept for over four hours! “Oh my gosh”, she thought. “I have got to study from now until the exam just to get through everything.” Whimpering, she crammed for the next 10 hours, taking small bathroom and snack breaks, only to walk into the exam room totally exhausted. She finished the exam with plenty of time left, which worried her, but, at that point, she didn’t care. The professor told the class that their grades would be posted via the internet in 3 hours, so check back. Trembling, Christy left the classroom to go find her some coffee, for she had three hours to wait.
Three hours later, Christy was back in her dorm room, logging onto her computer to check her grade. She had showered in the meantime, and had changed clothes from the plaid pajama pants and tank top into some nice pants and a blouse. As she logged onto her Italian course site, her heart sank into her stomach. “A fucking 62??!!” she cried out. “No way!” She slammed her chair against the table and threw herself onto her bed, exhausted and crying.
Christy assumed she cried herself to sleep, because she woke up from a doze with a start. Her clock read 12 pm . She assumed she had dozed off, but it wasn’t restful. Over the next few nights, Christy lost sleep and, even when she fell asleep from pure exhaustion, she didn’t rest. She woke up continuously tired and never any better off than when she went to sleep. She decided to go see the school doctor and see what he could prescribe her.
As Christy sat in the doctor’s office, she was shivering because she was cold. Finally, the doctor came in. She knew Doctor Mitchell well, for she had to get her birth control from him in addition to some antibiotics she had gotten a few months earlier for a bacterial infection she had come across. “Hello, Christy, how’s life treating you?” Dr. Mitchell asked.
“Not too well, Mike,” Christy and the doctor were on a first-name basis. He gave her a funny look. She responded, “Ever since last month, I have been having trouble with sleep. I can’t fall asleep. Its like my mind works overtime and won’t let me drown anything out so I can get some rest.”
Immediately the doctor suggested a stress test, which Christy gladly accepted.
As Doctor Mitchell examined Christy’s levels of stress over a number of questions via a machine that examined her heartrate, he came to her with a diagnosis. “Christy, you need a break.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Mike”.
“Well, you know I am a psychologist in addition to a general practice doctor, and there’s this new kind of treatment for people who are needing an escape from daily life.”
Christy was nervous, kind of glancing around the room. “Recreational pharmaceuticals, Mike?” she laughed.
“No, actually its hypnotism. Called YSR; or Youthful Stress Relief.”
Christy looked at him and got down immediately. “No way, Mike. I am not letting you hypnotize me into anything.”
Mike stopped her. “But you don’t understand. It’s for your own good. And plenty of research has been done to prove that its safe.”
“I dunno Mike,” Christy groaned. “I don’t have the time.’
“Look,” he said as he took her into his arms. “Midterms are over. I will come over tomorrow night and explain everything to you then, okay?” Reluctantly, Christy agreed.
The next night came, and Christy answered the door when Mike knocked. In his arms he had books, a tape, and some candles. Looking at him awkwardly, Christy let him in.
“Now, here’s what YSR will do for you. When was the last time you were stress free?”
“Um, when I was probably 7, because with school, comes stress.”
“Good. Okay, you are 21, right?”
“Okay. I am going to hypnotize you and regress you mentally so that less stress is placed on you mentally each day. You will have the mind of 2-year-old by the end of it. And the best part is, its completely reversible, so you can come back to regular, everyday life whenever you want.”
“Hell, at this point, if it allows me to sleep better, I don’t care what it does,” Christy replied. “Let’s go”.
“…and when I snap my fingers, you will wake up, completely in the mind of a 7-year-old.” <SNAP!>
“WHOA!” cried out Christy. She covered her mouth at the sound of her voice, and then giggled and got up, grabbing Mike’s hands. “Let’s go play tag!” she cried out. Mike smiled. ‘exactly as it should be,’ he thought to himself.
“But Christy, its nearly your bed-time.” You need to go to bed, okay. Go get your jammies on so you can go to bed, okay?”
“Otay”, she replied, and disappeared into her bedroom, where, not five seconds later, she returned in an oversized t-shirt with panties on underneath.
“Now, we can sit here and watch tv if you want, but you have to promise to go to sleep.” The two of them sat down on the couch and, in a matter or moments, Christy was out, sleeping soundly.
The next morning, Mike brought Christy out of her hypnotized state, asking her how she slept. “Mike, I don’t know what you did, but whatever it was, I feel awesome.”
“Good, then should we do this once every two weeks?” Mike asked.
“Sure, I am sure I will need it again in a couple of weeks. Want some breakfast? It’s the least I can do for you.” The two ate breakfast together, with Christy cooking eggs for Mike and herself.
Over the next few months, Christy began to call on Mike for more of the YSR. She was fixing to graduate, and time was running out for her to finish her final graduation project. Now, as time had gone on, Mike had not been charging Christy for his services. He accepted breakfast and wrote it off as a favor to a friend. However, he began to develop a crush on his patient, which is strictly forbidden by the Hippocratic Oath, which all doctors take when they are licensed. One night, he tried to move in on his crush, with some simple words. “Christy, I have to tell you something,” he started.
“What is it Mike?”
“I…er…think I have a crush on you.”
This totally shocked Christy, who merely thought of Mike as her best friend and doctor. “Well, I hate to break it to you, Mike, but this patient-doctor relationship is as far as we need to get, okay?” Mike was infuriated, but didn’t let it show.
“That’s fine, if that’s how you feel, I just felt the need to tell you, okay? Now onto our YSR for the evening.
<SNAP> Suddenly, Christy was awake. She was aware of everything that went on around her, seeing Mike sitting on her couch with a sly grin made her worried a little bit, but she was okay. As Christy decided to stand up she looked at Mike and spoke to him. She meant to say, ‘You want some breakfast, Mike?’, but it came out as, “Ooosu bekfass daddy?” She immediately slapped her hands to her mouth as she not only couldn’t form the words correctly, but heard the babyishness of her voice. She went to stand up immediately, not likeing the sound of her voice or her incapability to talk, and immediately fell back down with a padded <THUD>. She tried again, this time clumsily putting her hands in front of her and raising her butt in the air t gain balance. All of this was involuntary, as if her mind was making her body to do it before she could react. She was able to get upright, only to fall back down with another <THUD>. She noticed that she was sitting a few inched higher than usual and that something was different about her clothing. Christy looked down at her waist and saw…diapers! She was wearing what felt like two thick disposable diapers and a white t-shirt that barely covered her top.
“So, how’s my baby doing this morning?” Mike asked as he got up and moved over to her. “You talked to me like I was some kind of baby, so I figured you would get a kick out of being one for a while. Maybe you should learn not to be so rude to people…baby. At this, Christy wanted to cry, but she fought the urge and, although her face scrunched up involuntarily, she prevented herself from crying. “Now, let’s get up, shall we?” Mike said as he bent over to help Christy up. She wobbled as she stood there, simply being held up by Mike’s single hand held in hers. She was dependant on him at this point even to stand. “Can you stand up while I go get you some food?” He mockingly asked. Christy lazily nodded her head, and Mike left. Almost the instant that he let go and was out of her sight, again, she wanted to cry uncontrollably, but again she fought it. Again this uncontrollable urge to cry came over her, but she fought it, only to fall down on her padded behind again. Mike returned with a bottle of “formula” that he had specially mixed, just for her. As Christy thirstily drank it down, she realized that she had been hungry, and that this formula strangely satisfied her hunger. As soon as Mike saw that she had finished her bottle, he led her by the hand into her guest room, which only had a tv in it. Aside from the tv, the room was bare.
Christy tried her best, once Mike left, to stand up so she could leave and find help, but the cartoons that he had turned on grabbed her attention. She was stuck to the tv, her eyes never leaving the screen. About thirty minutes later, she felt the urge to pee. She struggled with the words, but was finally able to call out, “Daddy!” and Mike came into the room. “Me need potty!” she blurted out, holding her legs together while squirming. All of a sudden, as soon as she finished saying ‘potty’, she felt her bladder give way and herself flood her diapers. The warm urine flushed its way around the back of her diapers and, since she was sitting down, gushed towards the front. Christy tried her hardest to clench her bladder shut, but her muscles wouldn’t work. They simply wouldn’t work. Mike smiled and left. It didn’t take long, but minutes later, about 45 to be exact, Christy felt her bowels begin to rumble. ‘Oh no’ she thought, ‘I am not honestly gonna shit on myself, am I?’. She tried to work herself up frantically, feeling the pressure on her bowels increase with each passing second. She worked herself up to her feet by pushing her thickly diapered butt out in the air and pushing down with her hands. As she got to her feet, she began to wobble-step towards the door, all the while, her bowels were screaming to be released. Suddenly, one of her pigeon-toed steps caught the other foot, and she fell backwards again onto her butt. All of a sudden, her bowels gave way, expelling the last two days worth of adult food, and the formula that she had eaten earlier. It felt like five minutes, but for the entirety of that five minutes, Christy filled her diapers to the point of bursting.
To be continued
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