Squish Game: Round 3, Part 1

DISCLAIMER: This story contains hypnosis, diaper usage, pants wetting, mental regression, sissification, and other ABDL themes. If you haven’t read the first two rounds yet, I highly recommend doing so before digging into Round 3! I hope you enjoy!

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“On your knees!”

Dropping to the floor, Natalie grunted in pain as her kneecaps took the brunt of the force against the rough cement. She couldn’t see anything but grains of dull light that shimmered through the burlap sack over her head. While she didn’t know exactly where she was, the smell of lumber and sawdust was unmistakable. “L-Lamar! I know you’re here! You’re making a big fucking mistake!” she shouted, earning a few chuckles from the men that surrounded her.

“Silence!”

The chuckles instantly ceased as a familiar deep voice echoed all around. Natalie’s breathing intensified as she listened to a set of heavy, hollow footsteps approaching her. She winced as a wide hand placed itself atop her head before ripping away the burlap sack and exposing her to the harsh, fluorescent lighting. “Gah! Lamar, thank fuck! N-Now, I know we’ve had our differences in the past but if you help me out, I can make it worth your while,” she said, practically fumbling over her own words in hopes of gaining sympathy from her former partner.

“Worth my while, huh? How exactly are you gonna do that?” said Lamar with sarcasm dripping from every word. He squatted down in front of Natalie and unsheathed a buck knife, holding it up to Natalie’s collarbone, “You gotta have skin in the game if you wanna make big statements like that…and we both know your skin is just about all you have left.” He slowly dragged the knife lightly across her skin, sliding it underneath the left strap of her tank top.

*SPIT!*

It was as impulsive as it was stupid for Natalie to spit in the face of her only possible salvation. However, if there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was some oafish man thinking he could lay a hand on her in any sort of suggestive manner. “Fuck you. You owe me, Lamar, and you know it,” she asserted, punctuating her sentence with a knowing stare.

Recoiling from the loogie he took to the face, Lamar chuckled as he wiped Natalie’s spit away from his face before drying his hand off on his captive’s shirt. “That’s exactly what I always loved about you, Nat. A spitfire to the end,” he said, immediately following his sentence by sucker-punching Natalie in the jaw, “I’m done with her. Cut her up and feed her to the dogs.”

“W-Wait!” stuttered Natalie, panic setting in as several of Lamar’s goons began to encircle her. Watching as Lamar began to walk toward the exit without so much as a parting look back, she knew she needed to do something drastic if she was gonna save herself this time, “W-What if I can get you twelve million dollars?!”

Stopping mid-step, if there was one thing Natalie knew about Lamar, it was that he couldn’t pass up a good deal. “Stop,” said Lamar, holding his hand up as his lackeys froze in place, “Twelve million? Exactly out of whose asshole are you planning on pulling that from?”

Exhaling a shaky breath, Natalie allowed herself to relax slightly. She had piqued Lamar’s interest, after all. All she had to do now was sell him. “I know it sounds…fucking stupid…but have you ever heard of something called the Squish Game before?”

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“AAAGGGGHHH! FUUUUUUUCK!”

Lying on her back with her foot clutched tightly between her hands, Natalie dug her teeth into her tongue to keep the pain from causing her eyes to water. Between the adrenaline and iron-clad focus that she had needed to survive Round Two’s strenuous challenge, it was only now that she was able to relax that she truly felt how much her ankle was throbbing. As bad as the pain was, though, it wasn’t the primary thing that was on her mind. “YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD, LEE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!” she screamed, her shrill voice sending chills down everyone’s spine as she pointed her index finger in Lee’s direction.

All eyes fell on Lee, who attempted to laugh off Natalie’s anger. “What? Were we supposed to play fair?” they said, deciding to double down on their ruthless game move. However, their laughing came to an immediate end as Aaron stepped up to them and grabbed them by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” shouted Aaron, using his larger size to shove Lee back against the wall, “We trusted you! Rod fucking trusted you! And you just-GAH!”

Wrapping his fingers around Aaron’s hand, Lee used Aaron’s momentum against him, twisting his arm in such a way that it forced him onto his back. “Oh, for Goddess sake, what are you even doing here Aaron?! Some bitch flashes a smile at you and what?! You’re suddenly willing to throw away your whole life for her?!” they said, pressing more of their weight into Aaron’s arm and causing him to cry out in pain, “Why don’t you save us all some time and go throw yourself into the mud with Rod and that other fucking loser?!”

“Number 4 and Number 12! Separate this instant or you will both be eliminated from the game!” declared Dom, the smile she had on at the end of the Round having now fully dissipated.

Dom’s strict words were more than enough to cause Lee to finally ease off. They threw Aaron’s arm to the side and held their hands up, acting innocent. “Hey, I was just defending myself,” they said, backing away from Aaron’s prone body.

“I don’t care who started! I’m finishing it! Mistresses! Retrieve your Littles and escort them back to the nursery at once,” said Dom, unwavering in her sternness. She stood by and watched most as the remaining seven players were quickly rounded up by their Mistresses.

Standing over Aaron’s limp body, Blair scooped him up and hoisted him up so that his butt was cushioned by her forearm. She wanted to tell him that she was proud of him for getting through the round. However, she knew it would be best to save any encouraging words for when she wasn’t in Dom’s presence. Instead, she planted a small kiss on Aaron’s forehead before exiting the farmland set with the other Mistresses.

The only people who remained once Blair and Aaron left were Dom, the two losers from Round Two, and her Little, Lance, who waited patiently by her side. Removing a ruby-red flip phone from her pocket that looked like something straight out of the early 2000s, she held down the number 1 and triggered the phone’s speed dial before placing it to her ear. “Extraction is needed for Number 6 and Number 10. I hope the second round was to your liking, Caremaster,” she said, believing the climactic ending was more than enough to earn her boss’s praise.

However, the Caremaster had only one thing to say in response. “Disappointing.” He hung up immediately after, not allowing Dom to get another word in edgewise.

A cold chill ran through Dom’s spine as she lowered the phone from her face. She quickly tucked the phone back in her pocket before picking Lance up off the ground and exiting with her Little held firmly in her arms.

Wrapping his arms around Dom’s torso, Lance hadn’t known his caregiver for long but could tell just how tense she was based on the way she held him. “Is something wrong, Mother?” he said, dutifully using the name he was instructed to call Dom by.

“Nothing you need to trouble yourself with,” responded Dom, giving her Little an extra squeeze of affection for being so attentive, “Now, we don’t have much time. Best you talk now before we catch up to the others.”

Nodding in affirmation, Lance sat up a bit in Dom’s arms, smiling as though he’d already won the Squish Game. “Aaron’s little posse fell apart quicker than expected, as was pretty evident. He, Natalie, Lee, and our dearly departed Rod were going to prove difficult to overcome if they lasted much longer so this can only benefit us. I have a plan to further drive a wedge between Aaron and Natalie but it’ll mostly depend on where her head is at. All that “thanks for treating me like a normal person” shit might be an issue,” he stated, making sure to keep his voice low just in case. He was a paranoid person by nature, after all.

“Don’t worry about those two. She’ll eat him alive when the time comes,” said Dom brushing off Lance’s concerns about a duo making it further in the game together, “Aaron’s alliance was dead in the water from the moment it started. What I want to know is how my pwecious angel is handling his own widdwe posse?” She wiggled her finger under Lance's chin as she cooed, causing him to giggle. The pair entered a small room with over a dozen monitors lining the walls, each one of them displaying a different angle of the arena from Round Two. She leaned over the console with Lance still pressed to her body with one arm, showing off her Amazonian-like strength.

Melting at Dom’s moment of affection, Lance struggled to collect himself as he fought off the doughy thoughts that attempted to bog down his mind with sentimentality. Shaking off the giggles, he continued, “I-It’s going well. I’ve got Brett in my pocket and he’ll be a nice meat shield moving forward, especially since he’s so aggressive toward Natalie and Aaron in particular. And now that Shane’s out of idiots, I’d imagine it won’t be long before his own anger ends up doing him in. The only one I can’t get a read on that Seven girl. Any time I try to talk to her, she just sits there. And as far as I’ve seen she doesn’t talk to anyone else.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” said Dom, watching the feed carefully as she reminded the footage back to an early portion of the game and pressing play as soon as she saw the equation, 351 ÷ 27, pop up on the screen. She stared silently and intently until she spotted exactly what she believed she saw during the match. “There,” she said, pausing at the exact moment that Seven turned back to help Aaron with the answer, “You better start finding a way to better integrate yourself socially, because it appears your pal, Aaron, has the inside track.”

Leaning toward the screen, Lance’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Dom replay the footage, showing the movement Seven turned in slow motion. “How? I-I swear, I never saw those two interact once!” he said, utterly dumbfounded by this new revelation. With his ego feeling a tad bruised, he decided to dismiss Dom’s assertion full stop, “Whatever. Let Aaron play dress up with the girls all he wants to. I’ve got the muscle on my side and that’s all that matters. Now then, I’ve told you what you wanna know. Time to return the favor. What’s the scope of the next Round? I want as much time to prepare as possible.”

“My, my! Such an impatient little bab! Round Two just ended and Round Three is still in the works,” said Dom, her calm tone putting Lance’s uncertainty somewhat at ease, “Trust me, as soon as I know, you’ll know.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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