New World Order - Chapter 1

After the new government strips women of their rights, Ella must adjust to a world in which she is no longer considered an adult. Her boyfriend is intent on transforming her into his sweet, submissive little girl, but Ella is determined not to end up back in diapers.

***

Ella could only stare at the TV in shock when they announced the news of the Patriarchal Party’s victory in the election. A total upset, one that had left the pollsters and journalists and civil servants scrambling and confused. But the new government seemed anything but disorganised. They had already got to work passing a number of policies to “put girls in their place”. And just like that, Ella’s rights were gone. Her career in academia, gone. Her bank accounts, gone. Her partner, or closest male relative, was to be granted full custody over her, and in her case, that meant her boyfriend.

John was standing next to her as she watched the screen, and as the news came in, his hand stroked her chestnut brown hair and ran slowly down her back until it reached her bottom. He cupped her bum cheeks reassuringly, possessively, through the seat of her jeans. This is exactly what he said would happen, Ella thought, dully. And this is exactly what he wanted. John was a pamphleteer for the Party; more than just a supporter, he was actively involved in working to advance their interests. It had been a point of serious disagreement between them, of course, given her strongly feminist views, but despite their many arguments about it, the truth was she’d never taken it seriously. He helped with the dishes, after all, and he did his part cleaning the house and doing the ironing, and although he could be a little condescending at times, a little overprotective, there could be no doubt that he loved her. And she loved him. His support of the patriarchy had always seemed like something purely theoretical. But now, faced with the idea that she was legally under his authority, that she was as dependent on him like a child, it was suddenly very real. She knew she ought to be furious at him for his part in bringing this about, but for the moment she could feel nothing but numb disbelief.

“Hang on a minute,” said the male newscaster, putting a finger to his earpiece. “We’re getting some breaking news. I’m being told that Angela Smith, the young leader of the opposition who marched into government headquarters some time ago to dispute the result, is now coming outside.”

For an instant, Ella felt a surge of hope, but then the camera cut to a view of the main government office, and she let out a gasp. Smith was being dragged outside, kicking and screaming, by two security guards. Her professional clothes were gone, however, and in their place the twenty-nine-year-old, rising star politician was dressed in a short, pink petticoat and a ruffled white top with the words “Naughty Little Girl” written across the front in sparkling sequins. Her sensible blonde ponytail had turned into a pair of ridiculous-looking pigtails, tied in place with pink ribbons, and beneath the hem of her skirt, something white was peeking out. Smith gave the air an extra hard, desperate kick, and her petticoats flashed up, revealing the enormous disposable diaper she wore beneath.

Ella’s mouth fell open at the sight of her idol, an icon of female empowerment, dressed up like a giant toddler.

“Let me go!” Smith was screeching. “You can’t do this to me! Get your hands off me, you chauvinist pigs!” But the guards trundled her effortlessly into the back of a van and shut the doors on her, cutting off her final scream. “You can’t do this to m-”

A government spokesman came out of the government building a moment later and took up a place at a podium. There was a faint smile playing about his lips. “Angela has been a very bad girl,” he said, speaking into a microphone for the assembled press. “She barged into our offices making all kinds of silly demands, trying to overturn the will of the public, and demonstrating behaviour that is entirely unbecoming of a young lady. As such, we have decided that she be enrolled in one of our new, state-sponsored etiquette schools for women, in order to learn some manners. It’s our belief that even the naughtiest of girls can be taught their place with enough strict discipline.”

The van started up and began to drive away, and the news cameras were just able to capture a glimpse of Angela Smith’s furious face through the windows on the rear doors as she was carted off.

“There’s a lot of work to do,” said the spokesman, “but I have time for a couple of questions.” He pointed at someone.

“Will Angela be allowed to return to politics?” asked a man.

“No,” said the spokesman. “We don’t believe women belong in the political sphere, and certainly not a badly behaved little girl like Angie. Her departure from the political world will be permanent.” He pointed at someone else.

“Why was Miss Smith wearing baby clothes and a nappy?” a woman’s voice asked, sounding apprehensive. “Surely that’s not going to be a permanent thing?”

“To answer your first question, it’s because her behaviour was very immature,” said the spokesman, “and she looks much cuter than she did in her ridiculous suit. As for your second question, yes. I think it’s only appropriate that little Angie wears baby clothes and nappies for the rest of her life. It ought to help keep her attitude in check. Now, that’s really all I have time for, I’m afraid.” He left the podium and headed back inside, leaving the journalists to shout questions after him.

Ella’s cheeks were burning with indignation and second-hand embarrassment. She’d voted for Smith, and the poor woman had been paraded in front of the cameras dressed like an oversized two-year-old for all the world to see. And now she was being packed off to some kind of etiquette school, forced into diapers to “keep her attitude in check”. The thought of it turned Ella’s stomach. Surely Smith wouldn’t actually be expected to use the diapers, would she?

The camera cut back to the studio. The female newscaster was looking very shocked. “So as you can see,” she said, “the government has arrested, or, uh, taken into custody, or something, the leader of the opposition. Miss Smith was made to go through a terrible public humiliation. Whether the public will stand for such a clear breach of our democratic values remains to be seen.”

“Careful, Susan,” said the male newscaster, smirking at his colleague. “If you get on the wrong side of our new government, you might just end up joining her. Personally, I think your bottom would look adorable in Pampers!”

Susan, the female newscaster, forced a laugh and shuffled the papers in front of her nervously.

The male newscaster grinned at the camera. “We’ll be giving you more updates throughout the day, gentlemen, so stay tuned!”

Ella picked up the remote and shut off the TV angrily. Then she rounded on her boyfriend. “What the fuck, John!”

“Don’t swear, sweetheart,” he scolded gently. “You know naughty words are for the bedroom only.”

“Don’t give me that crap now!” Ella snapped, blushing. “Look what this country has done! Look what you’vedone!”

“It’s alright, baby,” John said, soothingly. “There’s no need to-”

“No, it is not alright!” Ella interrupted fiercely, her temper boiling over. “Women have lost their rights! All the progress of the last hundred years undone in one fucking day by a group of lunatics that you voted for! That you support! That you’re a memberof!”

“Ella, calm down. This is the best thing for you, sweet girl. Soon enough-”

“The best thing for me?!” Ella shouted, fuming. “Last I checked I was a twenty-four-year-old woman and perfectly capable of deciding for myself what’s best for me!”

“Sweetheart,” John said, warningly, “you’re throwing a tantrum like a grumpy toddler. If you don’t settle down by the count of three, you’re going to be in trouble.”

“You can’t talk to me that way!” Ella screamed, scarlet with rage. “I’m not a child!”

“One.”

“Are you seriously going to count to three?!”

“Two.”

“What, are you going to put me in time-out or someth-”

“Three.”

John grabbed her by the hand and dragged her over to the sofa. Before Ella had even realised what he was doing, he’d unbuttoned her jeans and yanked them down to her ankles, taking her panties with them. She barely had time to shriek at her sudden semi-nudity before, in one swift moment, her boyfriend sat down, pulled her over his lap, and pinned her hands together behind her back.

“What the hell are you-” Ella started to shout, but John interrupted her.

“Bad girl!” he scolded, bringing his hand down on her bare, upturned bottom. It landed with a loud smack, and Ella squealed at the sharp, prickling heat of the blow. “Very bad girl! You do notshout at Daddy!” He delivered another swat to her jiggling rear.

“OW!” Ella cried, fighting to get free. “STOP!”

“I’m not going to stop until you’ve learned your lesson, Ella,” John said, sternly, raising his hand and bringing it down once more on her soft, dainty backside. “

“OW!” Ella cried again. She looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend in disbelief. Was he seriously going to spank her over his knee like a misbehaving child?! “You can’t do this to me!” she screeched.

“Oh yes I can,” said John. “You’ve been a naughty little girl, Ella, and naughty little girls get spankings!” His palm struck her bottom with another noisy smack.

“OW! I’m not a little girl!” Ella shouted, trying her best to roll off his lap. “I’m a grown woman!”

“There’s no such thing as a grown woman, sweetheart,” said John, calmly, tightening his grip around his struggling girlfriend. “Just big little girls who need putting in their place!” He started to pick up the pace of her spanking, alternating between striking her left and right buttocks. Smack! Smack! Smack!

Ella began to kick her legs wildly, sending her jeans and underwear flying off her feet. She let out an incoherent whine of pain and humiliation. “STOOOP!” she wailed. Tears were starting to sting her eyes. This wasn’t fair!

“You’ve had this coming for a long time, little girl,” John lectured, while his hand continued to rain painful blows down on her rapidly reddening rear end. “Every woman has. You don’t need rights. You need rules. You need looking after. You need taking in hand.”

“OW! OW! STOP IT! PLEASE!”

“I’m going to teach you to behave, Ella,” John went on, ignoring her pleading and continuing to spank her now bright red derrière. “I’m going to teach you how to be a good girl for your Daddy, even if it means you won’t be able to sit down for a week!”

“NOOOO!” Ella cried. Tears started to spill down her cheeks. “STOP! PLEEEEASE!”

“Are you going to be a good girl?” John asked her. Smack! Smack! Smack! “Are you going to behave?”

Ella whined inarticulately again, clenching her teeth and scissoring her legs desperately behind her. It was getting harder and harder to think about anything except her burning bottom. Her face was almost as red as her bum at the shame of being spanked over her boyfriend’s knee like a naughty child. She didn’t want to give in, to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break. But she simply couldn’t take it any more… “DOBBIT, DADDY!” she sobbed. Tears were pouring down her face now, and her nose was running. “PWEASE DOBBIT! I BE A GOO’ GIRL!”

“Are you sorry for the way you behaved?” John asked, still not letting up. Smack! Smack! Smack!

“I SOWWY, DADDY!” Ella bawled like a baby, desperate for the spanking to end, willing to say anything just to get some relief for her throbbing tushy.

“Do you promise to be good from now on?”

“I P’OMISE!”

At last, the spanking stopped, and Ella was left gasping and hiccupping over John’s lap. For a minute or two she lay there, sobbing feebly. Then, slowly, gently, John helped her to her feet and pulled her into a big cuddle, stroking her hair and shushing her gently. “Shhh… Shhh, it’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s here. You took your spanking like a good girl and it’s all over now.”

Ella buried her face in the crook of his neck, still sniffling quietly. What was the matter with her? She knew she shouldn’t be snuggling up to the man who’d just spanked her to tears, but she couldn’t help herself. She reached behind her and rubbed her sore, aching bum cheeks gingerly. Even touching them made her wince. She really wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week like this. Suddenly, she felt John’s hand sneaking down her front, and her body froze. He ran his fingers lightly against her pussy, and she cringed when he felt the wetness there.

“Looks like someone was enjoying herself,” he said softly.

Ella thought her face must be burning even more than her rear. She shook her head, face still shoved into his neck, but he just chuckled. Then he planted a kiss on the top of her head, and they broke apart.

“Arms up, baby,” he said. “Let’s get your shirt off.”

Ella didn’t understand why he wanted her to strip, but she raised her arms obediently and allowed her boyfriend to lift her top over her head. He dropped it to the floor and reached behind her to undo her bra next, and she blushed as he bared her breasts, leaving her standing totally nude in front of him. Her chest had always been sizable, and it had always been a struggle to be known as “the smart girl” and not “the girl with the huge knockers”. Having them out, wobbling with every movement, always made her feel slightly ridiculous.

John took her hand and sat back down on the sofa, pulling her with him. For a moment her heart jumped into her mouth as she thought she was getting another spanking, but instead he positioned her on top of him, directing her to straddle his legs in such a way that her red bottom was hanging over empty, cool air. Once she was comfortably settled in his lap, he cupped her cheek and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Again, Ella knew she shouldn’t be allowing this. She knew she ought to be giving him the cold shoulder at best for what he’d done, but she couldn’t seem to control herself. She kissed him back passionately, slipping her tongue into his mouth. She could feel his hardness beneath her loins, and reached down hurriedly to unbuckle his belt. She took out his cock and positioned her ready wetness above it. Just as she was about to lower herself, John grabbed her by the hips and slammed her down forcefully onto his manhood.

“Oh!” Ella squealed.

“Good girl…” John groaned, as she started to slide herself up and down the length of his shaft. “That’s Daddy’s girl…”

Ella bit her lip, her eyes rolling back in her head. This didn’t mean she was okay with what he’d done, she told herself, as she rode his cock, feeling her pussy clench tightly around him. This doesn’t mean it was okay to spank her, to reduce a grown woman to a snivelling little girl. She moaned breathily and quickened her pace. And it certainly didn’t mean it was okay that women everywhere were experiencing the same thing as her, that strong, independent young ladies across the country were being pulled over their boyfriends’ laps and spanked, before settling in, their bottoms bright red and their faces streaked with tears, for a night of steamy lovemaking. “Oh fuck!” Ella cried, partly out of pleasure and partly as a curse. What was she doing?! Her boyfriend had just spanked her like a misbehaving child. He’d just helped to bring down everything she claimed she stood for, and now she was screwing him like she’d never before. Her tits were jiggling about all over the place, and her sore, red ass was bouncing up and down on his cock, faster and faster. She let out a whorish moan. She couldn’t stop herself. “Oh Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” she cried, and as John gripped her still-stinging bottom as tightly as he could, and she screamed out in pain and ecstasy, they both reached orgasm together.

***

My long-running story chapters got fairly intermittent by the time Babe or Billionaire was coming to an end, so what I'm going to do moving forward is create a new tier for them, which will incentivise me to get them posted, and I'll do two per month, between roughly 1000-2000 words as usual (this one ended up being 2700 so I guess it's a special treat). I'll also make this chapter, and future first long-running story chapters, available for all Patrons so that way you can decide if the story is your type of thing, and opt in or out as you like.