Taken from Genus Three (the conclusion to The ABDL Sc-Fi Series),
here is a little story about a great many “feelings”.
Paradise Felt –
100 years in the future …
On Paradise Island – lunchtime
“Kelly, settle yourself,” the head nurse said calmly, motioning the other nurses to hold Kelly’s flailing body still. “This isn’t helping your situation. This isn’t what he wants to see.”
Being pinned to the changing table, Kelly did her best to wiggle free anyway. But when the nurses pinned her torso down by hand, she began to scream deafeningly into the floating pacifier nipple in her mouth. Her tantrum was so ferocious that the nipple was removed from her mouth and that horrible foam ball gag was put in its place. Her mind was so foggy by that point that she could no longer rationalize how to solve even the simplest problems. And having been kept in that messy diaper for several hours, her bottom was screaming for relief too.
Having her legs raised and held in a spread-eagle position, her bottom was wiped clean and then her front the same. But she was beyond consoling, beyond being calmed down and her misbehavior was about to be addressed in a very jolting fashion. The leather shocking sandals were placed on her feet and she was dragged off the changing table, made to stand next to that table. She was bent over it and her stance was widened. Having her neck held down, Kelly couldn’t look over her shoulder to see what was about to happen to her. But from the cracking sound the head nurse was making as she slapped something against her palm repeatedly, Kelly could still rationalize that pain was about to be inflicted. A lesson was about to be learned, unfortunately not a lesson that Kelly would learn – but rather, one that the other abductees would be forced to observed and gather for themselves.
A swift noise of slicing through the air preceded the cracking sound the wood in the head nurse’s hand made as it contacted Kelly’s bare and pinkened bottom. It was a piece of wood taken from a tree on Genus One. It was very hard and was likened to quebracho wood, found in South America and believed to be the hardest wood on Earth.
Kelly’s lower half lunged forward, connecting with the side of the changing table and practically taking her off her feet. The room went silent, save for the echoing of the connection off the walls. Nobody gasped, but instead went breathless. For as much as Paradise Island was a haven of sorts, when viewed with the understanding that the abductees were well taken care of, it certainly didn’t feel like a haven just then. The head nurse wailed on Kelly’s bottom again and again and again with no regard for the girl’s muffled screams, diminishing as the foam ball kept expanding in her mouth and cutting off her oxygen.
By the time the head nurse stopped from exhaustion, Kelly’s bottom looked like a bruised tomato. With the top half of her body now collapsing limply on the changing table and her lower half dangling off the side of it, Kelly was barely conscious. Her tantrum had indeed ended, settling her momentarily with extreme physical pain. Her nearly-comatose state lasted long enough for the nurses to put her back on the table and to diaper her, applying a necessary layer of healing ointment to her bottom.
“It’s so sad to see what this one has become,” a random nurse said loudly enough for all the other abducted women to hear. “She was an assured thing and she squandered it … now an assured failure.”
Kelly couldn’t understand anything that was being stated. Words were suddenly jumbled noises with no meaning. But the others understood clearly and the more Kelly suffered, the more she was made out to be an effective example of the consequences for disobedience.
“She could have had everything, but now she has nothing,” another nurse said as the wrist and ankle bindings were placed back on Kelly. “Now … she is nothing.”
A high chair was brought over next to the changing table, the partially lifeless Kelly lifted up and placed in the high chair. Being restrained to it, Kelly opened her half-mast eyes a bit more fully to see the wooden tray being placed in front of her. Oh, how she wanted to complain. Oh, how she needed to make known her displeasure. But oh, how weak she felt, without even knowing what that meant.
Kelly watched as Astra and Bailey prepared her lunch, a bowl of greenish sludge that certainly had even more sedating medicine in it to scramble the remainder of her malfunctioning mind. She truly had dropped the ball and any further escape attempts wouldn’t be possible at this point. She no longer possessed the ability to drum up the physical motor skills needed for such a hopeful exodus.
But Kelly’s greatest atrocity was to have not become the perfect BabyGirl that Argyle had dreamed her to be. But unlike the nurses, Argyle truly hadn’t given up all hope in Kelly just yet. It was a matter of finding a technique that worked with her. He was sure of it.
The foam ball gag was removed from her mouth. Then spoonful after spoonful of the green sludge was shoveled into Kelly’s mouth, Astra and Bailey both talking to her so softly and lovingly that her brain might well have been mushier than the contents in her mouth. With her left hand, Bailey held a cloth over Kelly’s lips and lower half of her face, preventing the girl from spitting the sludge out or just simply opening her lips to allow it to dribble out on its own. With her right hand, she pinched Kelly’s nose shut, forcing the girl to swallow the sludge before running out of oxygen.
“That’s a good girl,” Bailey said with syrupy sweetness, watching Kelly swallow that first mouthful – making a most adorable fussy face at the taste of it. “Aww, the little baby doesn’t like how it tastes.”
Kelly heaved for air, too affected by the disgusting flavor in her mouth to fuss. It was as if they were trying to destroy her taste buds right along with the rest of her. Though she wasn’t mentally processing this, the fact was: the worst kind of torture wasn’t what could be done to her on the outside, but rather, what could be done on her inside.
And killing her taste buds it did, her mouth going numb as Bailey pinched Kelly’s chin with her thumb and pointer finger, lowering the girl’s jaw and scooping up another heaping spoonful of the green slop. Several of the nurses snickered at the reaction Kelly made to seeing the next offering. Wincing as the spoon was slid into her mouth, Kelly began to sniffle. Then another spoonful was slid in. And another, Bailey once again covering the girl’s mouth with a cloth and pinching the girl’s nose shut. Kelly opened her eyes, looking at the nurses puffing their cheeks out at her, mocking her before they snickered again. But Kelly didn’t feel humiliated or embarrassed. Such emotions were beyond her mental grasps just then. Instead, she felt hurt. Only Astra and Bailey were being kind to her, though they were the ones feeding her – strict directions given to them by the head nurse.
Swallowing the muck, Kelly whimpered softly. She just might throw up by the end of this. Hopefully, Bailey wouldn’t make her eat all of the sludge – a pipe dream unfortunately confirmed a few minutes later when the head nurse made Kelly lick the bowl clean.
Oh, how horrible her stomach hurt and how broken she felt. But there was more to come and as she was taken out of the high chair, her face wiped clean and her hair being put into pigtails, Kelly plopped down on the floor in the middle of the main room. She was delirious, felt sick and was beginning to feel the effects of whatever medication had been put in that bowl of green disgustingness. It made her feel a little sleepy, but also far more in control of her emotions.
“Nightie,” the head nurse said, Kelly’s body being adorned with a white nightie in the same instantaneous manner as when she was given different hairstyles. “Record this for the archives.”
The nurses gathered the other abductees and put them in a wide circle around Kelly, giving them front row seats.
“Pink …… Peach …… Lavender,” the head nurse said, Kelly’s nightie changing shades each time. “Soft pink.”
And as Kelly looked down at the soft pink nightie, she also took notice to how her fingernail and toenail polish had changed colors to match the shade. Her bonnet had also turned soft pink.
“Tea dress,” the head nurse said, Kelly’s body becoming adorned with such a cute pink dress that the nurses aww-ed over her. “Flare dress … short sleeve … striped … horizontal stripes.”
The outfits kept changing on her, all in the color of soft pink.
“Lacy-hem top …… romper,” the head nurse said, thoroughly enjoy this little game of dress-up. “Wait! I’ve got! ……… Satin ruffled bubble panties and matching top … halter with puffy short sleeves.”
The nurses gushed at the outfit on Kelly. Her boobs barely kept from spilling out of the top, for as endowed as she was as versus the tiny top. The satin bubble panties fit very snuggly over her diaper, the elastic edgings of her crinkliness not being covered by the satin at all. She was absolutely adorable, though she wasn’t able to appreciate it.
“White nylons … save,” the head nurse added, making the outfit complete and alerting the system to keep the look – then seeing Argyle entering the main room. “Just in time.”
Walking through the circle of spectators, Argyle stood in front of Kelly – looking down at her. It was an eerie moment for all as his face showed no happiness or anger. He was like a stone figure and everyone backed away as he knelt down in front of Kelly. She looked at him, her mind feeling itself nearly erased. He reached out and lightly touched the side of her face – a floating pacifier nipple forming in her mouth.
Instantly, Kelly started nursing from the nipple. Her innocence radiated and Argyle smiled warmly. Scooping her up into his arms, he stood up and carried her away – Kelly’s pigtails bouncing as she looked back at the stunned group of nurses and abductees as Argyle took her back to his office. She was still completely out of sorts but was enjoying the warmth of his body and the timbre of his voice.
“Daddy’s gotcha,” Argyle whispered as he carried her into his office. “Daddy’s gotcha and he won’t let you go.”
What a simple, yet pleasant thought: being assured of something’s permanency, even when everything else had gone wrong.
“You’re very pretty, BabyGirl,” he whispered into her ear, Kelly placing the side of her face on his shoulder and nuzzling as close to his neck as possible while wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “Awwwww. Did Daddy just call you pretty?”
Tummyflies danced around inside her as he patted the back of her satin panties and diaper. It was the only effective kindness she had received since early morning and she absorbed it as much as she could.
“Daddy’s gotcha. Daddy’s gotcha,” Argyle whispered, his deep timbre making his chest resonate and making Kelly’s fogginess turn into a swooning sensation – far more pleasant than the former.
Twitching for just a moment, she felt the front of her diaper dampen a little. A small trickle of pee had come out of her, unbeknownst to her until after it had happened. Then she relaxed herself against him.
He sat down on his chair and spun her around to face away from him as he sat her on his lap. Taking the shade out of the window panes, he turned on an underwater scene that depicted sea life swimming about. Kelly stared at it in amazement, completely captivated by it.
“Daddy’s right here,” Argyle whispered, Kelly shifting a little – her diaper crinkling from the movement. “Daddy’s not going anywhere.”
He kept repeating a message of permanency, his whispered words slowly becoming thoughts in her mind. And he kept referring to himself as Daddy, trying to make that impression a steadfast fact to her. Kelly had never once referred to him as her *Daddy* nor had she viewed him that way, but hadn’t given up on her yet.
What he had given up on was his approach. He had tried to win Kelly over in the same way he had tried to win over all the previous abducted women over. The truest definition of mental insanity was to do the same thing over and over while expecting different results. So, instead of trying to break her free will and her deep-rooted love for her husband, he would simply brainwash her completely – eliminating her memories of Mack and replacing them with thoughts of him.
The trigger word to make this happen was Daddy. Argyle would forever refer to himself as her Daddy from then on. And if this new approach didn’t work either, by the end, Kelly would be good for no one at all. If Argyle couldn’t have her, then no one was going to have her. If he couldn’t call her his own, then no one else would, either.
“Did you wet yourself? Hmm? Did you wet yourself, Princess? Part your legs for Daddy,” Argyle whispered, his heart leaping for joy when he saw her part her thighs – showing she understood him and was recognizing him as Daddy. “Good girl. That’s it. Daddy’s gotcha.”
Slipping his arms around her, he placed his right hand on her naked midriff, holding her firmly but gently against him.
“Relax, BabyGirl. Watch the fishies,” Argyle whispered to her while placing the palm of his left hand on her forehead and easing her head back onto his chest. “Show Daddy what a good girl you are.”
Kelly leaned back against his torso. In doing so, her thighs spread just a bit further apart. Argyle trailed his right hand down onto the front of the soft pink satin panties, his left hand wandering onto her cleavage. Kelly’s eyes drooped to half-mast in response to his touch. She was still a creature of touch and it had seemed like an eternity had passed since she was last handled in such a passionate manner.
“Grind your hips, Princess,” Argyle whispered softly, cupping her between her legs – Kelly complying with a strange sense that she had no ability to resist the request. “That’s a good girl. Daddy’s right here.”
At first, she only rocked her diapered hips back-n-forth slightly – a remnant of modesty that somehow survived within her. Being pressed in more firmly between her legs, the inside of her diaper kept growing closer to her sweetness – gently grazing her labium on each pass. Oh, Heavenly sensations – some so powerful that her body inadvertently twitched. All of this was being done to awaken her insides with desire to propel her upward to a summit she hadn’t reached in a while. Grinding herself harder and with more fervency so as to reach the next pleasurable sensation and to magnify its intensity, Kelly was going to be made to cum like a good girl. And in the transference of energy, her mind would associate Argyle with pleasured feelings … at long last.
He pulled her halter top up, her breasts falling out freely. The fingertips of his left hand wandered across her body to cup and squeeze her right breast – then wandering over to her left breast for the same. Kelly stared at the underwater scene in front of her, but her mind was receiving flash traffic from the stimulation she was being given.
“Heave your chest up,” Argyle whispered to her, the fingertips of his left hand fine tuning their position onto her right areola and then her right nipple – pinching it and rolling it around as Kelly did indeed heave her chest up at his request … a submissive soul she had become. “Yes, that’s it. Show Daddy those little boobies of yours. Good girl.”
Kelly closed her eyes, trying to see a vision of her husband. She still remembered who he was and if she could just focus any of her thoughts on him, then all this groping would be something she could get through. But it felt so good that she wanted to follow the desires. Mack was a wonderful lover, but he wasn’t her Daddy. And it was her Daddy who was making her feel so very good just then.
It was her Daddy who was causing her to moisten at her center with a wetness that quickly turned to drips from her perineum. Her heart began to pound inside her chest, her body temperature rising and the cutest little bit of fussiness overcame her.
“Daddy’s gotcha,” Argyle whispered, his right palm traveling up the front of her satin panties and slipping down into the front of them – then cupping the underside of her diaper directly. “Be a good girl now.”
He briskly rubbed the front of her diaper, pressing his palm inward and continuing to whisper. Heaving her chest up higher, her whimpers steadied as she concentrated on taking in deep breaths through her nostrils – given that her mouth was kept closed by the floating pacifier nipple. And because of this, she grew light-headed, only adding more thrill to the moment and more arousal. With the heave, her body moved in such a way that her mound pressed so closely to the inside of her diaper that a constant contact was established. And through her wetness, she began to swell. Her soften tissues enflamed and began to puff out slightly, producing a tightness that made her ached for relief.
“Daddy’s gotcha,” Argyle whispered yet again, his right palm traveling up the front of her diaper and slipping into the front of it.
Her fussiness peaked, his fingertips passed over her mound and heading south over her labia. Pressing the heel of his palm into her clit, his fingers slid through her slickened outer lips – moving in small circles and also moving her into a nearly-ravenous state. She rocked her diapered hips fully, trying to press her wetness against his palm.
“Daddy is all you need,” he whispered softly, Kelly’s frame moving in the ebb-n-flow motion of a tidal wave. “You can’t survive without Daddy anymore. And it’s time to trust what you feel.”
With that, he slid his middle and ring fingers into her canal, Kelly shuddering and then making choppy exhales as the rest of his palm pressed very tightly against her swollen and slickened center. His inserted finger tips reached up and made contact with the ridges on the roof of her canal. Then his hand started moving in and out.
She crinkled loudly and arched her entire back, giving him as much open pathway for the offering as she could. Her whimpers grew louder and when her spine could not bend anymore, he touched the side of her face with left hand – freeing her mouth of the floating pacifier nipple and allowing her to moan aloud as he nibbled on her left ear lobe.
Then she froze in place for a split second before beginning to squirt into the front of her diaper, saturating his palm and fingers as she reached the summit and slowly ballooned down from it.
Even with confusion, she couldn’t deny how good it felt. Flipping her over, he rested her stomach on his torso. Cupping the underside of her diapered bottom, he gently moved her body up-n-down – giving her sweetness a bit more stimulation through her afterglow.
“Daddy’s gotcha,” he whispered, giving her scrambled brain a bit more to handle as she processed the forced nature of a paradise felt.
—————Genus One Genus Two Genus Three