A Dish Best Served Messy: Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, body transformation, babyfication, humiliation, domination, masturbation/diaper sex, hypermessing, anal play, and other ABDL themes. I hope you enjoy!

Co-Written By: LittlePissy

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Sitting upright in a high chair with her hands bound by locking mittens, Morgan folded her arms across her chest and pouted. After being so close to getting out of this mess, to get caught shitting yet another diaper while stuck in a window had been a new low for her. Not to mention that she smelled like used diapers now thanks to Sawyer giving her the soft landing of a garbage can filled to the brim with her messy pampers.

At this point, it had occurred to Morgan that whenever she tried to do anything, she only seemed to make things worse. Perhaps it was really best for her to wait out the rest of this stupid vacation until she got back home. They were supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon anyway. That didn’t mean she was exactly looking forward to some random babysitter looking after her for the remainder of the evening while her “friends” went and enjoyed the rest of their trip without her.

*DING DONG!*

Morgan felt her heart rate intensify as the doorbell sounded off. “Ooh! That must be her!” shouted Karley from another room. Footsteps of her traveling through the house could be heard until she passed through the kitchen on her way to the front door. She made sure to give Morgan a small wave, which Morgan did not reciprocate.

Less than a minute later, Karley returned with another woman in tow; one who had to be about twice her age and had a large diaper bag slung over her shoulder. She was incredibly busty, wearing a tight-fitting top that showed off her ocean’s worth of cleavage. “Morgan, there’s someone special I want you to meet,” said Karley in an overly chipper tone, “This is Mother Elma, and she’ll be your babysitter tonight! I just know you two will get along great!”

Elma’s high heels clicked with every step as she walked up to face Morgan directly. “Hi there, little one,” she said with a deep, sultry voice, “Have you already eaten, or are you waiting for me to feed you?”

Looking up at Elma, Morgan could practically feel the assertive dominance radiating off of this woman. She looked away without saying anything, only to have her jaw suddenly grabbed, returning her face forward.

“When Mother Elma asks you a question, she expects an answer,” stated Elma sternly in third person.

Deciding to let Morgan off the hook, Karley chimed in, “Not yet. Sawyer was planning on feeding her before you arrived, but Mittens over here made a big mess of herself when she went digging through her old dirty diapees.”

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear,” said Sawyer as she entered the kitchen midway through Karley’s statement. She had on Morgan’s favorite evening dress, though she failed to fill out the bust even half as well as she did. That didn’t stop her from doing a small spin to show off the outfit, getting cheers of approval from Karley.

Alyssa stomped her way into the room last, sniffing her arms and scowling. “Ugh, fuck you both for making me fish Morgan out of the trash can. I washed my hands like six times and that stench still won’t come off,” she said dramatically.

“Get better a rock, paper, scissors then,” joked Sawyer, nudging Alyssa with her elbow, “Let’s get going, bitches. The boys are already at the club and we don’t want their eyes to start wandering.”

With no parting words of farewell, the trio of Sawyer, Karley, and Alyssa grabbed their purses and headed toward the door, leaving Morgan all alone with Elma, who still had Morgan’s jaw firmly in her hand. She finally released her, returning to the kitchen table and setting her diaper bag down, “So, why don’t we get to know each other a bit better,” said Elma, smirking as she dug through her bag before pulling out several jars of baby food, “From what Karley has told me, this is your first time, correct?”

Nodding her head, Morgan kept in mind what Elma had already told her about answering questions. While she didn’t want to play along with this whole charade, she seriously doubted that Elma wasn’t informed of what was going on here in advance. Any attempt at convincing her to free her would likely fall on deaf ears, if not incur some humiliating punishment. “I’m…not really used to any of this crap-”

“Watch the language, deary. Unless you like the taste of soap,” said Elma, cutting Morgan off, “And don’t worry, I’ve dealt with first-timers before. Though, I’ll tell you upfront that this bratty behavior of yours isn’t gonna fly with me.”

Morgan blushed at the idea that her refusal to play along made her appear as though she was just a bratty Little. “I’m not trying to be a brat. I…this has been a really bad day for me and-”

“Hush,” said Elma, returning to the high chair and setting the baby food down on the tray, “No need to get yourself so worked up. This is supposed to be therapeutic.” She ripped the lid off the first jar of baby food and dipped a small plastic spoon inside.

Morgan cocked her head to the side, confused. “Therapeutic?” In her mind, the only people who would want something like this were losers and perverts who wanted to get off on being infantilized.

“That’s right. Babies are unburdened by the struggles and negativity of the adult world. Many find solace in wearing diapers and achieving Little Space,” said Elma, lifting the spoon to Morgan’s mouth, “Now, open up. There’s a perfectly good airplane here waiting for a landing strip.”

Morgan didn’t exactly want to eat the jungle green mush that sat on the end of the spoon. However, Elma was talking to her like an actual adult, which was something she didn’t want to ruin by defying her. She begrudgingly opened her mouth, allowing Elma to place the spoon in her mouth. To her surprise, the slimy, green substance didn’t taste half bad. It was certainly better than the oatmeal she’d been subjected to this morning.

“Mhmm! Very yummy, no?” said Elma, plucking the spoon from Morgan’s mouth and dipping it back into the jar for another helping, “If you can eat all three jars of Mother Elma’s special baby food, then I’ll make sure you are rewarded.”

More than anything, Morgan wanted to roll her eyes at the prospect of whatever babyish reward was in store for her. She held back, though, knowing Elma made for a much better ally than enemy. “Okay, fine,” she relented, “Can I ask just one thing? And then I promise I’ll shut up and eat.”

An intrigued smirk surfaced on Elma’s mouth. “Normally, I’d say no, but if it makes you more agreeable, I guess it can’t hurt,” she said as she placed the spoon back in the dish.

Taking a deep breath, Morgan composed her questions in her mind as best as she could. She only had one shot at this and she didn’t want to mess it up. “Why do people…get off on this?” she asked hesitantly, “Like, you say this is therapeutic and junk, but from what I’ve seen and what Karley has told me, it seems like it's just another kink for most people.”

“Hmmm…I guess I can see where your question is coming from. A lot of ABs and DLs tend to question their own sexual attraction to the kinks and scenarios associated with diapers,” said Elma, who was more than thrilled to have the chance to discuss the broader psychological aspects of diaper fetishists, “Your question is broader than you think, though. There are power-play dynamics, sensory aspects like touch and sound, the allure of taboo sexual concepts in general, the list goes on. In a way, it’s no different than any other kink or sexual attraction. Did I answer your question to your satisfaction?”

Nodding, Morgan could feel the dots connecting in her mind. “So, it’s like bondage or something, only instead of rope and cuffs, it’s diapers and binkies,” she said, almost to herself more than to Elma.

“If that’s what helps you reconcile with your own sexual preferences, then sure, let’s go with that,” said Elma as she pulled the spoon out of the baby food jar once more and held it up to Morgan’s lips, “Now, no more talking. It’s dinner time.”

Morgan wanted to protest that this wasn’t exactly HER sexual preference, but the second she opened her mouth to say something, her cheeks were filled with a spoonful of mush. Figuring it was better to bite her tongue and listen to her babysitter, she allowed the passing comment to slide and continued eating.

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“Ugh, no mo…pwease,” muttered Morgan as she slumped over the high chair’s desk. Having pushed through two of the jars, she felt as though she could burst if fed even one more bite. How did such small jars of baby food fill her up so much? Regardless, punishment be damned, she couldn’t stomach any more.

Elma snickered as she slid open the lid of the third and final jar, saying, “Oh, hush. Growing girls like you need full, happy bellies to grow up to be big and strong. Not like you seem to be doing much growing in that regard.” She gave Morgan a condescending pat on the head, reminding her that her stature was significantly shorter than she was used to.

“Can I at least wait like thirty minutes?” groaned Morgan, oblivious to the fact that she was whining like a toddler, “I feel like I’m gonna throw up if I have to eat another one.” While her pudgy body didn’t show it, her stomach was as tight as ever.

Sighing, Elma set the lid back on the jar and leaned in close to Morgan. “Tell ya what, if you can go number two in your diaper for me, right here and now, I’ll let you off easy with only two jars tonight,” she said smugly as she watched Morgan start to squirm at the prospect of using her diaper again.

For Morgan, this was much different than any of the times she’d accidentally been forced to use her pampers. In order to escape this stupid high chair, she would have to intentionally shit herself, a concept that was almost too humiliating to comprehend. Still, if it got her out of eating another jar, it might be worth it. “Y-You’ll change me after, right?” she stuttered, her face flushing at the idea that she was seriously considering this.

Morgan’s blushy expression caused Elma to giggle. “I suppose if I must,” she responded, surprised that it didn’t take much coaxing to convince her.

Grimacing, Morgan turned her eyes away and lowered her head. Thankfully, her bowels had already been feeling slightly achy, so if she angled herself right, messing her diapers should be no problem. That said nothing for her ability to climb over the mental hurdle of pooping somewhere that wasn’t a toilet, which was much easier said than done. Clasping the edge of the high chair’s tray with her silky mittens, she lifted her bum off the wooden seat, furrowed her brow, and started to push.

*Pfffffffffff!*

“Eeeep!” shouted Morgan as the first bit of gas slipped out of her colon. She instantly stopped pushing, her mind practically forcing her to resist the urge to finish what she was starting despite how easy it felt for her body to let out such an unfeminine fart.

It took everything in Elma’s power not to bust a gut laughing at this innocent diaper girl. She really owed Karley for introducing her to such an exciting specimen. “You gotta relax, sweetie. Apply gentle abdominal pressure and try to imagine your sitting on a toilet,” she said, offering her years of experience to the newbie Morgan.

Needless to say, Morgan wasn’t exactly thrilled by the advice. She knew better than to snap back at what sounded like an earnest attempt to ease her through this. Closing her eyes, she did as she was told, unaware of the dark mysteries that were occurring within her own body

*SPLOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRT!!!*
Morgan’s eyes shot open and her jaw dropped. She hadn’t been that close to losing control, had she? It was like her body gave up on her with only the slightest of pressure. She had no idea that the Little Body Formula had wreaked havoc on her internal organs, making it much easier for her to expel the semi-soft slop.

“Well done!” said Elma, clapping her hands as she rounded behind Morgan to give her a big squeeze, “Seriously, I thought it was going to take you at least another few minutes to pull that off. You sure this is your first time?”
Shaking as she hovered above the mass in her pampers, Morgan was on the verge of tears. This was far worse than when she’d messed herself on accident. As Elma pulled her into the hug, her body was forced backward, causing her butt to make contact with the pile of poop she had created.

Mercifully, Morgan didn’t have to wait long in the high chair as Elma removed the tray and pulled her up to her feet before assessing the damage. “Oh, wow! You really know how to fill ‘em!'' shouted Elma, placing her hand under Morgan’s slouching diaper and lifting it high enough so that she was smushing it against her rear, “However, these are CrissBaby diapers, so I know for a fact they can handle multiple messes.”

“Wait, what?!” screamed Morgan, her legs buckling as Mother Elma continued to feel her up, “B-But you said you’d change me after-”

“If I must,” interjected Elma, finally releasing Morgan’s diaper from her grasp, “And based on your diaper of choice, I’d say you’re still another accident or two from a change.” Taking Morgan by the hand, she led her over to the kitchen table and began rummaging through her bag.

Meanwhile, Morgan was nearing a major temper tantrum. Clearly, trusting the adult babysitter that her friends had hired was a mistake and a half. It took everything she had to not go off on this psychopathic woman. The moment that she saw the miniature paddle being lifted out of the diaper bag, though, she thought better of letting her angry feelings known.

“Ah! Here we are!” said Elma, her voice in high spirits as she lifted out a zip-lock bag filled with gummy bears, “I’d say you more than earned these, baby girl. Now, what do we say when someone gives you a gift.” She placed the bag in Morgan’s mittens and snickered, knowing just how much this girl had to be seething.

Looking at the paltry reward in her mitts, Morgan took one last look at the paddle that Elma had strategically pulled out before muttering, “T-Thank you, Mother Elma.” In the back of her mind, she swore that when this was all over, she was going to make Sawyer, Alyssa, and especially this diaper dom’s protégé, Karley, pay for every ounce of embarrassment that she was feeling.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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