*** 16 ***

	Melody looked as innocent as could be, sitting on her puffy, padded behind, watching TV from her blanket on the living room floor. Besides the cute barrettes in her mane and the thick padded mitts locked over her hands, she wasn’t wearing anything besides her diaper and a short t-shirt that didn’t even come close to her waistband. With her pacifier tucked between her lips and her plushie parked in her lap, she could’ve been mistaken for an actual child as she zoned-out in front of the TV. That is, if her size didn’t give her away, or the extremely adult choice of programming that had been picked out for her viewing pleasure.
	Miss Fifi had put on a special tape of home movies for her to watch while dinner was being prepared. Melody didn’t know what to expect when she saw that it wasn’t the usual cartoons, but it quickly became clear what type of home movies these were. The young mare’s first instinct was to be virtuous and turn away, but she quickly gave into her curiosity, naughty as it was. Before she new it, she’d spent twenty minutes watching a skinny little poodle bitch getting smothered in Miss Fifi’s big wide ass.
	With the exception of Fifi’s bra, both women were totally naked, meaning Melody could see everything. Well, almost everything. The poor slave bitch’s face never got any screen time, staying buried beneath the obese Basset Hound’s impressively large buttocks as Fifi straddled her head, resting her chubby pussy on the smaller woman’s narrow muzzle. Regardless, the shrill cries for mercy that could be heard as the poodle thrashed in her restraints made it clear how little she enjoyed having her overly-plump mistress sitting on her face, but her struggling didn’t do any good. Of course, this came as no surprise to Melody, having recognized the location of the scene as the very same metal changing table where she received her diaper change that morning. Due to her first hand experience, she knew as well as anyone that those wrist and ankle straps were unbreakable, and just as expected, the poodle never got any closer to freedom as the video went on.
	Predictably, it didn’t take long for the scrawny slave to tire herself out, reducing her valiant fight for freedom to little more than ineffectual squirming as she laid strapped to the table. Not only that, the muffled curses emanating from beneath the hound’s thick rear-end had gotten quieter as well. Once the poodle had screamed herself hoarse, Miss Fifi had no problem talking over her, bullying the weaker woman mercilessly as she kept her massive pelvis pressed firmly against the sobbing bitch’s face.
Fifi called her a slut and a whore, telling her she wouldn’t be allowed to come up for air until she’d earned it, demanding an orgasm before the suffering would end. Though, it didn’t seem like the poor poodle was getting the message, because Fifi only got more and more irate as the recording went on. Eventually, she got fed up and tore the piss-soaked diaper right out from between the bitch’s narrow thighs, prompting more futile squirming and crying from the bound poodle as she got ready to feel the wrath of “The Stinger” on her bald pussy lips.
The Stinger was nothing more than an eight inch long leather strap with a wooden handle. It was rather narrow, only about two inches wide, making it the perfect size to slip between the legs of an uppity slave, delivering a harsh smack to their most sensitive areas. Simple, but effective, it was one of Miss Fifi’s favorite toys, and she brought it out for all the naughty little girls who came to stay in her nursery. Even Melody had felt the kiss of The Stinger on her naked little labia, and now just seeing the devilish little leather slapper on TV was enough to make her pussy lips tremble in fear. Apparently, the mysterious poodle on the table was also well-acquainted with The Stinger, because she struggled to close her legs as soon as its name was mentioned. Of course, with her narrow ankles strapped to the rigid steel stirrups of the changing table, she didn’t have any hope of protecting her vulnerable crotch.
The sympathetic young mare felt bad for the poor slave as she watched the bitch’s exposed cunt being ruthlessly spanked over and over, yet she still relished every second of the stranger’s suffering. The horny young mare could barely keep her hands off the front of her diaper as her eyes stayed glued to the TV screen, enjoying the sight of the poodle’s fiery red pubic mound as it twitched between each strike of the supple leather strap. Melody couldn’t really understand why, but she was dripping wet inside her diaper, hoping the carnage would continue until the unfortunate bitch on the table was reduced to nothing more than a quivering, sobbing wreck.
The horny mare imagined herself as the helpless slave girl tied to the table, forced to worship the stronger woman’s musty, wet sex while her own cunny was punished over and over for being such a naughty little slut. For some reason, the thought of being treated so rough really drove her wild, causing her to conjure up all sorts of shameful fantasies. Soon, she was so preoccupied with her kinky daydreams that she hardly noticed the TV was on at all, lost her in her own headspace as memories of the last few days came flooding back.
	Spankings, enemas, strapons, and plenty of humiliating diaper changes, she remembered them all, sometimes in greater detail than she would have liked. Miss Fifi drove her to tears with those punishments, but for whatever reason, reminiscing about them only added more fuel to the already-raging fire growing out of control between her legs. Melody wanted to touch herself so badly the longer it went on, but she knew that was strictly forbidden. 
However, unable to be deterred, she had her plushie do it for her, pressing the soft, felt nose of her stuffed friend into the wet spot on the front of her diapers. She was aware that it was a dangerous game she was playing, but she didn’t have the willpower to stop herself once she got started. Rather than fight it, she only slipped deeper into her pleasantly unpleasant memories as she sat on the floor with her legs splayed open in front of her, plushie jammed between her thighs.
	She was even reckless enough to let out a gentle moan as she rubbed the soft toy against her padded crotch, but quickly clammed up, embarrassed by her own foolishness. She certainly didn’t want Miss Fifi to overhear and wander in to see what the commotion was. The punishment for this type of unauthorized funny business would surely be harsh, and Melody’s bottom was still warm from the last time she got paddled for making a nasty face at Miss Fifi’s cooking. Though, part of her really did want to get caught. Nothing would earn her the level of abuse she was fantasizing about quite like a brazen disregard for the rules, but did she dare? Was she really ready to face the consequences? Unsure of her own tolerance for pain, she kept her lips sealed tightly around the nipple of her pacifier, not making a sound as she continued on with her clandestined plushie romance.
Even if she was too scared to pull the trigger, she was still thinking about it, pleasuring herself as she imagined what would happen if she got caught. Miss Fifi would certainly be angry, probably calling her a “slutty little hussy” or something similar as she took her by the ear and led her over to the corner. Once there, Melody figured she’d get the overweight hound’s smelly, unwashed panties shoved into her mouth to act as a makeshift gag before being instructed to turn around and assume the position.
The horny young mare wanted this sick little daydream to last as long as possible, spending extra time fantasizing about the fear she’d feel as she stood bent over with her hands against the wall. She’d bite down on the pungent cotton gag in her mouth, knowing the leather strap would be coming to lash her tender bottom at any moment. Her legs would quiver in anticipation of the first blow as she held her position, legs spread wide, tail up, pussy and ass on full display, just waiting to be punished however Miss Fifi deemed necessary. Would it be quick and painful, or another long, drawn-out affair that left her crying for mercy? Melody wasn’t sure which she wanted more.
Maybe she’d have her disobedient little pussy spanked, clamped, and tortured to teach her a lesson about touching herself without permission. Maybe she’d get her ass stuffed with Fifi’s biggest, bumpiest strapon instead. Ice water enemas were also a common way to deal with horny diaper slaves who lacked self control. In her state of unchecked arousal, Melody wanted every cruel punishment Miss Fifi could throw at her. She wanted to become a broken diaper slave, trained to eat pussy, always having a fully loaded diaper hanging out for all the world to see as she followed her mistress around on a leash. She wanted to be bound and gagged face down, with a shitty old diaper under her nose whenever she wasn’t being used. She wanted Miss Fifi to invite men over to have their way with her while she stayed strapped down to the changing table, helpless on her back with a leather hood over her eyes and a ring gag forcing her mouth wide open. There was no limit to the debauchery she could imagine as she worked her way slowly toward orgasm using nothing but the soft, smiling face of her loyal plushie.
Unfortunately, she never got there, having to pause her playtime activities suddenly as she felt tremors in the floorboards. Could it be Miss Fifi’s heavy footsteps coming down the hall? Maybe it was just more thumping from the nursery where her Auntie had been busy playing with Marcus all day. Either way, Melody didn’t take any chances, pushing her little stuffed friend away as she flopped down on her side and got into the fetal position, pretending to be snoozing.
Still spooked, she laid there listening with her ear to the floor. She heard a few more bumps and a thud come radiating up through the floor, but not much else. Regardless, she stayed there on her side, chewing her pacifier as she studied the sounds of the room, waiting until she knew it was safe to start her naughty little game again. Though, she got bored after only a couple minutes. She hadn’t heard anything in a while besides the sloppy, wet sounds of forced cunnilingus coming from the TV, so there didn’t seem much point in pretending to be asleep anymore.
Now even more sexually frustrated than before, she sat back up on her diapered butt and tried to watch some more of the movie. The helpless poodle was still pinned under the big hound’s fat posterior as Miss Fifi remained kneeling on the changing table, riding the poor slave’s face like a bicycle seat. However, unlike before, there was no struggling from the broken submissive. One might assume she’d finally suffocated beneath Fifi’s heavy undercarriage if not for the noticeable twitch each time the leather slapper hit the skinny bitch between her thighs.
The extensive pain inflicted on the poodle’s tender crotch was obvious. Her pussy had been spanked to the point that it looked like raw meat, but the torment didn’t end there. Once Miss Fifi got the bitch’s cunt lips glowing as red as possible, she started working on the whimpering slave’s bare legs, not stopping until the poodle’s inner thighs were covered with rows of overlapping crimson stripes and her scrawny legs were trembling in their stirrups. Despite all of this, hardly a sound could be heard from under Fifi’s great backside other than the slurping of pussy juices as the helpless bitch lapped at the bigger woman’s chubby slit. That, and the occasional whimper when she took an especially clean hit from The Stinger.
Melody didn’t know how to feel as she watched the abuse unfold on the screen in front of her. It made her feel sick to her stomach watching the shaking poodle take hit after hit to her already tenderized vulva. She knew how much that thin leather slapper hurt, and couldn’t imagine taking that much punishment on her precious little cunny. However, as it went on, more and more of the poodle’s sordid backstory was revealed. 
Miss Fifi was very vocal while she worked, telling all the bitch’s secrets as she teased and taunted her plaything, making it clear to her and anyone else watching exactly why she deserved her fate. The more Melody heard, the less pity she had for the poor creature bound to the table. She’d been a naughty little poodle indeed, alleviating Melody of her guilty conscience as she resumed stroking the front of her nice clean diaper, thirsty for the orgasm that had eluded her before.
Her mitted hands couldn’t do much to stimulate her through the thick padding of her diaper, leaving her horny and desperate. She tried her plushie again, grinding his cheerful face between her thighs faster and harder than before, but that didn’t work any better. Annoyed, she threw her stuffed toy across the room and let out an audible huff as she stuffed one of her padded mitts down the front of her diaper and rubbed her quivering sex directly. Her juices allowed the leather mitt to glide up and down across her overly-sensitive slit, but the utter lack of dexterity prevented her from reaching her tiny, cherished clit which stayed tucked away between her pussy lips, adding to her frustration as she tried to finger herself with her useless, club-like hands.
She groaned softly as she chewed on her pacifier, trying to build toward a quick orgasm before Miss Fifi came to get her for dinner. She wasn’t sure how long she had, but she didn’t want anymore interruptions. Fifi had been depriving Melody of release to keep her wet and horny in her diapers all day, and it was driving her crazy. Now the willful young mare was determined to get off, but whether she could get there with these damn mitts on her hands remained to be seen. Luckily, Fifi’s home movies gave her all the inspiration she needed to do her best work.
Effective or not, Melody continued stroking her slippery sex non-stop as she watched the debauchery unfold on the big screen in front of her. The downtrodden poodle had apparently failed to satisfy her mistress with her tongue, earning herself another round of hellish torment as Fifi reached down and spread the bitch’s labia apart until her pussy looked like a puffy, red butterfly. Then, with her saliva coated rump still parked on the helpless bitch’s face, Fifi took the narrow leather strap to the squirming slave’s vulnerable, exposed clitty, sending the girl into hysterics as her fuckhole was flogged mercilessly. Fifi, on the other hand, wore a smug grin the entire time, telling the little whore to get her tongue up in there deep if she ever wanted to get down off this table.
Melody felt herself getting closer to climax as she continued to fondle herself, no doubt helped along by the sound of the poodle’s anguished cries, and there was no lack of them as the abuse continued to ramp up. Once Fifi had run out of cunt meat to tenderize, she decided to switch gears, stuffing The Stinger’s ribbed wooden handle into the bitch’s raw, spread-open pussyhole instead. All the while, barking at the wailing slave to move her hips as she was penetrated with the unlubricated hunk of wood, and telling the poor bitch how much worse it was going to get for her if she couldn’t score an orgasm with her slutty little mouth in the next five minutes.
Unfortunately, Melody never had a chance to see if the sobbing poodle succeeded, closing her eyes as she focused solely on the task at hand. It wasn’t that she wanted to escape from the erotic carnage on the screen, quite the opposite. She was too busy to watch, preferring to fantasize about herself being in the same scenario instead. Despite her fear of The Stinger, she couldn’t help but imagine herself being driven to tears one swat at a time as she explored the rank, flavorful folds of the bigger woman’s vulva with her long tongue. She wanted to beg for mercy, choking on the older hound’s bountiful pussy juices as she kept her tongue lodged deep inside Fifi’s big furry cunt. She had no idea why, but just thinking about being used like that got her so close to cumming that she nearly began to cry when the thick mitts on her hands prevented her from finishing the job.
Refusing to be deterred, the frantic mare got on hands and knees and continued fondling herself with one hand stuffed down the front of her diaper. She kept her padded rump up in the air, trying her hardest to stimulate her clit while her hands were locked away, but it just wouldn’t work. Sure, it felt good, but she couldn’t ever seem to get the sweet release she longed for. Nevertheless, she didn’t stop rubbing herself, still lost in her own thoughts as she drooled around her pacifier onto the blanket below.
Growing exhausted, she leaned over the edge of the sofa to prop up her body, hoping to finish while her arm still had the strength to continue. Fortunately, this new position worked better for her, allowing her to really concentrate on her sick little fantasies as she buried her face in the soft cushions of the sofa to block out the bright lights and better muffle her moans and whimpers. After another minute or two with her hand down the front of her diaper, she began to lose control of her imagination, forgetting who and where she was as her subconscious took over.
The longer this went on, the darker her headspace became, making her crave all sorts of abuse as she worked her way to the edge of orgasm, things she’d never imagined before. She wanted to be degraded and tortured like that poodle on the screen. She wanted to be turned into a true fuck slave and kept in dirty diapers 24/7 with no way to escape. She wanted a daily regimen of spankings, mouth soapings, and anal training to break her down, the harsher the better.
She didn’t merely want to be spanked on her bottom, that was too gentle for a slave in training like her. She wanted her slutty little pussy to be punished relentlessly just like the poodle’s, and that wasn’t all. She figured her udders deserved to be tortured as well, picturing how much prettier she’d look with a pair of heavy metal clamps swinging from her tender nipples as her crotch was reddened with the wicked leather strap. Though, as the pleasure between her thighs grew, the further she slipped away, allowing her mind to run wild as she envisioned what her new life would be like once she signed herself over as Miss Fifi’s slave.
Why stop at nipple clamps? An owned slut like her deserved so much worse. She wanted her poor little nipples stretched and pierced while she screamed into a big fat ballgag, only to find out that her clit would be next. Ordinarily, the idea of being tied down and stabbed with needles would make her queasy, but in her current frame of mind it got her wetter than anything, causing her to groan into the sofa cushions as the sensation between her legs intensified.
A wave of pleasure ran through her body, making her shudder. She bit down on her pacifier to keep from moaning too loud, but never stopped stroking her nether regions. It felt so good, but it was only a tickle compared to the orgasm she was so desperately working for. Meanwhile, her daydreams only got kinkier the closer she got to her goal. The deeper she delved into her shameful perversions, the better her dirty little pussy felt, pushing her subconscious to come up with new, more awful ways of punishing naughty sluts like herself.
She wanted to be dressed like a big baby and paraded around in public with a messy diaper hanging off her backside for everyone to gawk at. Would they be disgusted at the sight of a full-grown filly walking around with shit in her pants or would they just laugh at her? The embarrassment was almost too much to imagine, but she did her best to picture their shocked reactions as she was led past on her walk of shame. Naturally, her first instinct would be to run and hide from all those prying eyes, but Miss Fifi wouldn’t allow it, keeping a tight grip on her leash which would most certainly be attached to one of the more sensitive parts of her body.
Being led by her nipples was an obvious choice, but a nose ring and strict posture collar seemed more appropriate for a lowly diaper pervert like her. The thick collar would force her head up, allowing everyone to see her pretty crying face as she was led by the nose, and she did mean everyone. Miss Fifi would surely arrange for auntie Marzipan to be there to witness her humiliation along with the rest of her family.
Dad would shout at her for acting like a baby as he heard her blubbering into her thick gag. Mom would just stand there, shaking her head disapprovingly at the sight of her bulging diaper. Her brothers were the worst though. They’d surely be the loudest in the crowd, laughing and teasing, never missing a chance to score an easy burn off their dorky embarrassment of a sister.
It was one of the worst things she could imagine, but it got her so damn wet just thinking about it. Even still, she couldn’t make herself cum, unable to reach her precious little clitty with these stupid mitts locked on her hands. The denial was akin to torture, but she couldn’t give up now, not while she was so close. Refusing to return to reality before getting her prize, she allowed the erotic nightmare that had consumed her thoughts to continue to its logical conclusion. All the while, still pleasuring herself as she fantasized about being exposed in front of the whole world as the depraved whore she really was.
Melody had been videotaped and photographed in some rather compromising situations since becoming Fifi’s personal plaything, and it frightened her to think what the crafty hound could do to her reputation by posting it all online. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to imagine having an entire website dedicated to her training as a diaper slave. A place where horny perverts from around the globe could come to watch her suffer through hours of cruel, degrading punishments and jerk off to her misery as she bawled into her gag like an overgrown baby. There would be galleries with hundreds of photos of her overflowing, shit-filled diapers for all to enjoy, documenting each and every one of her humiliating diaper changes so all the online “Daddies” could lust after her adorable poop-covered tushy and leave comments about how bad her diaper rash had gotten.
Just thinking about the type of dirty comments those nasty old men would leave on her pictures made her squirm. She could only imagine what those lecherous fiends would do to her if they got the chance, and she secretly wanted to find out. She wanted Fifi to raffle her slutty pussy off to the highest bidder and stream it all live when the winner finally got to peel her out of her messy diaper and have his way with her. Of course, Fifi would make sure to send a link to everyone at her university, ensuring a respectable view count while she was getting bent over and fucked into submission. No one would ever look at her the same way once they knew what kind of girl she really was, but that was just fine for a dedicated diaper slut like her.
She wouldn’t need friends now that she was an owned bitch. The only thing she needed was a stranger’s cock inside her to finish the job her useless mitted hands couldn’t, but alas, she was all alone. Though, despite her solitude, she wasn’t satisfied with merely imagining her descent into diaper slavery. She wanted it for real. Eventually getting to the point that she was willing to fill her diapers just to feel the shame of soiling herself again.
Even though she despised the feeling of soft, slippery shit squishing around in her diaper, she knew it was what she truly deserved. Once she’d spoiled her nice comfy diaper, she’d have to sit in the mess all night until she earned a diaper change. That meant obeying every order without question, no matter how unpleasant. If she was told to bend over for a spanking on her mushy bottom in front of everyone in the house, then she had to do it. If Miss Fifi pulled her wet cotton panties to the side and ordered her to kiss her pussy until she came, she’d have to do it. It was either be the older woman’s bitch or go to bed hungry with a whole day’s worth of itchy, irritating dung spread across every inch of her diaper area. Those would be her only two options, and even though that was a terrible position to be in, she wanted it badly enough that she was willing to befoul her own diaper to get it.
Still bent over the edge of the sofa, she lifted her tail and let out a determined grunt as she tried to make a big stinky oopsie in her diaper. It was normally very hard for her to override her natural aversion to crapping herself, but she was way too horny for her own good. Between her lack of inhibitions and all the fiber-infused oatmeal she’d been force-fed over the last few days, she was able to push a sizable load of manure out into the seat of her diaper before she could even think twice about what she was doing.
The effect was immediate. As soon as she felt the extra weight plop into the back of her diaper, she knew there was no turning back. She was a naughty girl now. There was no hiding it. Like it or not, she’d have to be punished accordingly, and that thought got her hotter than anything else up to that point.
Even with a heavy load weighing down the back of her diaper, she kept her hand stuffed down the front of her waistband, quickly building toward orgasm now that she’d degraded herself like a proper diaper slut should. As long as she was careful not to spread the mess around too much, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting her nice leather mitts dirty, but there was nothing she could do to prevent the acrid stench of her soiled diaper from reaching her nose. 
The palpable stink pervading the air served to remind her of her new station in life. She was nothing but an overgrown, diaper-sniffing baby whose only purpose was to serve her mistress, and the foul-smelling diaper sagging off her backside proved it better than anything else ever could. This was her life now. She’d be humiliated and punished nonstop until she was molded into a perfect sissy slut, just like the poodle bitch in the video. There was no escaping her fate now, not after what she’d done.
Normally, such thoughts would have her in a panic as she tried to think of some excuse to cover for her pathetic display of babyishness, but not today. Gone was the scared little filly she used to be, replaced by a shameless slut who loved to masturbate in her stinky, used diapers for all to see. It was certainly a dramatic change from the ever so adult college girl who, just days ago, was too dignified to willingly poop her diapers. However, she couldn’t argue with the results as her pussy quivered for more, leaving her moaning into her pacifier as she built toward climax faster than ever before, despite the mitts put there to slow her down. 
She tried to keep her voice down as best she could, but discretion was honestly the last thing on her mind when the dam finally broke, taking her somewhat by surprise as a powerful orgasm sent shockwaves through her body. She gasped loudly, unable to control herself as a feeling of immense pleasure radiated out from her pelvis and enveloped her from the top of her head to the bottom of her hooves, overtaking her completely. Suddenly, her arms and legs turned to rubber, leaving her draped limply over the side of the sofa as she waited to regain control of her body. All the while, her hand was still stuffed down the front of her diaper, but she didn’t dare move it, afraid she might brush up against her painfully sensitive pussy and send her body into convulsions. There was nothing she could do now but bury her face in the sofa cushions, trying to stifle her groans as she waited for it to come to an end.
It was half a minute of pure heaven, even better than she could have imagined. It seemed to go on forever, but she wasn’t complaining. In fact, she couldn’t do much of anything besides lie there and twitch. She couldn’t move or speak, nor did she have any concept of how much time had passed. Her pleasure-addled mind was totally blank, without a care in the world. She probably couldn’t even remember her own name if she were asked. It wasn’t until it was all over that she came to her senses and realized what she’d done.
She stayed as still as possible, trying to keep the filthy deposit in the seat of her diaper from spreading while she fought to catch her breath. She was still bent over the edge of the sofa with her messy bottom stuck out behind her, but couldn’t summon the strength to move, not even to pull her hand out of her diaper. More importantly, she was too content to care. All she wanted to do was rest and try to savor whatever dopamine was still coursing through her system. However, her blissful tranquility was soon shattered as reality reared its ugly head once again.
“Finished?” asked Miss Fifi, finally making her presence known to the foolish filly who had been too busy rubbing her naughty bits to notice her arrival.
Melody’s relaxing post-orgasm high was sent crashing to the ground as she realized there was someone watching from the doorway. Reverting back to her usual shy self, she snatched her hand out of her diaper and quickly stood up, turning around to face her strict mistress with a forced smile peeking out from behind her pacifier. She hid her mitted hands behind her back and tried to act like nothing was wrong, but it was obvious how nervous she was as she secretly wondered whether Miss Fifi had noticed the bulbous lump in the back of her diaper.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the guilty-looking mare, doing her best to avoid direct eye contact as she stood there in her t-shirt and soiled diaper, lying to save her ass. “I’m all finished with my nap. Is it time for dinner already?”
“So, you’re saying that was a nap I just walked in on?” asked Miss Fifi, clearly not fooled as she crossed her big arms over the front of her apron to show her disapproval. “Because it certainly didn’t look like you were asleep a moment ago.”
Melody gulped, instantly realizing how badly she’d fucked up. The stern hound may have looked like any other annoyed mother at the moment, but Melody knew what she was capable of. Becoming increasingly worried, she tried to come up with another lie to smooth things over, but there was no way to explain it away, leaving her drawing a blank as she stood there looking flummoxed. Though, she didn’t get much time to think before Fifi took over, dominating the conversation as she approached the blushing mare. Stopping short, she exerted her power over Melody by ordering her to come the rest of the way to meet her.
“Don’t bother trying to lie your way out of this one, girly. You’re in enough trouble already,” said Fifi. “Now, come over here and show me what you’ve done.”
Melody obeyed without hesitation, fearing things would only get worse for her if she tried anymore funny business. Her perverted craving for the life of a harshly dominated diaper slave was gone, leaving her wanting a clean diaper and a warm bottle, but she knew she’d be lucky to get either after the stunt she’d just pulled. Forlorn, she walked up to her mistress, head hung in shame, and turned around to show Fifi the back of her diaper, careful to keep her mitts out of sight as much as possible. Still too embarrassed to own up to her stinky little crime, Melody couldn’t stop herself from blurting out another fib to try and earn some sympathy.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, her shaky voice pitched up to sound more childlike. “I couldn’t hold it until you got back, and…”
“Hush! I didn’t ask for any commentary, diaper girl,” said Fifi, cutting off the younger woman’s lies and retaking control. “You’re not to speak until spoken to, so just keep quiet unless I ask you a question, understand?”
“Yes ma’am,” said Melody, keeping it short and sweet to avoid another scolding. She just wanted to get this over with as quickly, and with any luck, painlessly as possible, but the tongue lashing had only just begun.
“Good, now let’s hope you remember that rule from now on,” said Fifi. “Your little baby brain seems to be forgetting a lot of the house rules recently. Speaking of which, is there anything else you want to tell me?”
Melody knew exactly what the short-tempered hound was hinting at, but couldn’t bring herself to confess. Not that it mattered, her blushing cheeks made it clear that she was trying to hide another naughty secret. Unfortunately, there was no way she could explain away everything Miss Fifi had already seen, leaving the poor filly without an answer as she stood there anxiously and sucked her paci.
“Nothing to say, huh? That’s fine, we can do things the hard way if you like. Now show me your hands,” demanded Fifi, getting impatient with the young mare’s childish games.
This was the moment Melody had been dreading, but she knew there was no use prolonging the inevitable. She turned to face her mistress and held her mitts out in front of her for inspection, averting her eyes nervously as she waited to get another earful. Her left mitt was fine, but the right had obviously been someplace it didn’t belong, showing a noticeable dusting of baby powder.
“Very interesting,” said Fifi, suspiciously eyeing the traces of white powder as she reached out and grabbed her young ward by the wrist. 
With one quick motion, she roughly twisted the girl’s arm around to get a good look at the underside of her mitt. As suspected, it was absolutely coated with powder, making it clear beyond a shadow of a doubt what Melody had been up to. Though, there was never really a doubt in Fifi’s mind. The room reeked of sex as much as it did dirty diapers, and her sensitive nose was never wrong. 
“Well? What’s your explanation for this?” asked the hound, trying to keep a cold exterior even though she loved watching her blushing baby girl squirm in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” replied Melody, unsure of what else to say, still mortified that her shameful crime of passion had been discovered and put on display.
“Oh, you will be,” said Fifi, cracking a wicked grin. “I have ways of dealing with slutty little girls who can’t keep their hands away from their naughty parts, and you’re not going to like them one bit. Though, before I decide what to do with you, I have to know, did you cum?”
Despite the simplicity of the question, Melody’s mind was racing. Should she tell the truth and hope for the best, or would that just earn her a hellish pussy spanking like the poor poodle in the video? As much as she wanted to come clean, the temptation to fib her way into a less severe punishment was too great, and she was shaking her head in response before she could stop herself. She knew she was just digging her grave deeper and deeper with each lie, but she was too afraid to think straight.
“I couldn’t finish cuz of the mitts,” said Melody, looking down sadly, hoping to hide her lying eyes before the perceptive hound could gaze into her soul, but Fifi didn’t buy it for a second. 
“You honestly expect me to believe that?” she asked. “I heard the sounds you were making a minute ago. I saw the way you were rocking your hips. I watched the whole thing, Melody, even the part where you lifted your tail and crapped your pants like a toddler. If you really didn’t cum, then look at me and say it to my face like a big girl.”
Melody didn’t bother trying to fib anymore, too humiliated to speak after being put in her place like that. She’d done such shameful things believing she was all alone, but now it was apparent that Fifi had been standing there for quite some time before announcing herself. Based on everything she’d seen, the surprisingly stealthy hound must have snuck in right when things were starting to get good, a realization that left Melody’s stomach in knots the more she thought about it.
Just a few minutes ago, she wanted to be caught and disciplined in the worst ways imaginable, but that was only a fantasy, something she cooked up while she was too horny for her own good. Now that it looked like she was going to get what she’d secretly been wishing for, she no longer wanted it. Her ill-gotten orgasm had already come and gone, taking with it any desire she had to be punished and humiliated, leaving her wishing that she’d been more careful. Fifi would have never gotten the drop on her if she hadn’t stupidly turned her back on the doorway. She wasn’t thinking clearly then, but she was now. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could say that would get her out of this, and after many seconds of awkwards silence, Fifi realized the lip-locked mare had given up trying to defend herself.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said the smirking hound. “You may be too much of a gutless little baby to say it, but big mama always figures out the truth, and liars like you always get what’s coming to them. Well, I hope it was worth it, because it’s going to be a long, long time before I let you touch your bad little cunt again. The mitts may not have stopped you, but I bet a locking diaper cover will, and that’s only the beginning. Just wait until I tell your Aunt what I caught you rubbing yourself off too, or maybe I should let you be the one to tell her the whole story. I’m sure she’ll find it as funny as I do.”
	Melody quickly glanced over at the TV to see what the smug Basset hound found so funny. She hadn’t heard the poodle screaming or crying in a while, making it easy to forget it was still going on in the background. To her utter embarrassment, it seemed the video had moved onto another scene entirely. The poodle was no longer restrained on the metal changing table with the big hound straddling her face. Now she was down on her knees with her arms bound in a straightjacket that resembled a pink onsie with a bunch of extra straps and buckles. It was as adorable as it was kinky, but that wasn’t what got Melody blushing.
	Now, instead of eating pussy, the prissy poodle was on her knees rimming the bigger dog’s tailhole. The poor bitch had her muzzle jammed so far up Miss Fifi’s asscrack that only the back of her head was visible, but she never pulled away even once. Apparently, this scene was filmed much later into the poodle’s training, because there didn’t seem to be any fight left in her. She didn’t struggle in her straightjacket or tug against her leash, fulfilling her sickening duties without complaint as her mistress barked orders at her.
	Miss Fifi looked downright sadistic in this scene with her skin-tight rubber dress hiked up to her waist, grinning from ear to ear as she felt the slave’s wet tongue slipping in and out of her hairy, brown shithole. She was obviously enjoying herself, but had no compliments for the unfortunate poodle kneeling behind her, only more threats of abuse if the bitch didn’t get in there deeper and clean her ass out good. As if that wasn’t enough, Fifi ordered her defenseless plaything to beg for more as she worked. It was both cruel and disgusting, but the poodle did as she was told without question.
	“More mistress, please. I love the taste of your perfect, beautiful hole. Please let me taste it forever,” said the bitch, her weak voice trembling as she struggled to be heard from between the massive hound’s dense asscheeks. “Please, mistress. Your pucker is so delicious. I love it so much.”  
She spoke slowly, pausing every other word to get in a few more licks of the dominant woman’s unwashed anus, but Melody had no problems understanding. The tormented poodle was clearly very scared of being punished for lackluster tongue-work and was willing to do anything to serve her mistress, even worship the bigger woman’s stinkhole. No doubt the bitch had been through a lot to get her to this point, and Melody was terrified, imagining the same fate for herself over the next week.
The bashful mare finally broke her gaze from the TV screen, too overwhelmed by the sloppy sounds of ass kissing to watch anymore. Turning to Miss Fifi, Melody let out the most pathetic whimper she could muster, trying to make her feelings known in the most submissive and non-threatening way possible, worried that anything more would get her swiftly rebuked. Unfortunately, her infantile vocalizations were easily ignored, having no visible impact on her mistress’ icy disposition as the hound continued to shame her.
“I bet you want to slurp dog ass just like your little friend in the video, don’t you?” asked Fifi, purposefully misinterpreting what the filly was whining for just to get a rise out of her.
“No, ma’am,” said Melody, looking down. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Nonsense,” said Fifi. “Your naughty little masturbation party proves what a thirsty little kink slut you are, and if kissing my gritty, unwashed tailhole is what you secretly desire, then that’s what you’ll get.”
“No, ma’am,” cried Melody, beginning to lose her calm facade as she desperately tried to explain herself. “It wasn’t… I mean…”
“Okay, that’s enough out of you!” barked Fifi, growing fed up with the girl’s constant backtalk. “I don’t want to hear anymore excuses, young lady. You were caught red-handed so just own up to it, because you’re going to get exactly what you always wanted. I’m not going to take it easy on you anymore now that I know what a perverted little filly you are, so save those tears until I give you a real reason to cry. Believe me, you’ll have plenty of opportunities before I let you go home to your mama.”
Melody just stood there silently with her mouth hanging open, unable to even remember what she was trying to say a moment ago. It was all a misunderstanding. She didn’t really want this, but wasn’t allowed to get a word in edgewise, making it impossible to deny the allegations being thrown at her as she stood there in her shit-filled diaper, looking like a brainless toddler. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to summon the courage to defend herself, but Fifi grabbed her firmly by the ear before she could do anything.
“Come on, move your ass you big brat. It’s almost time for dinner,” said Miss Fifi, yanking hard on the mare’s soft, velvety ear to keep her under control as she began walking her to the doorway. “But first, I have a bar of soap with your name on it, and it’s going right into that lying mouth of yours. Your mother may not have raised you right, but I’m going to teach you some respect no matter how long it takes, so come quietly or you’ll be sucking down suds until bubbles shoot out your ass.”
Melody opened her mouth to say something, but the only thing that came out was a loud yelp as she was led down the hall by her ear. Her pacifier dropped out of her mouth as she hollered, but there was no way Fifi was going to stop and let her retrieve it. She just had to leave it behind as she was pulled into the kitchen for another round of harsh discipline. Not that it mattered anyway, she’d most certainly be getting something new to suck on after dinner. Something that would keep her a whole lot quieter. Something that wouldn’t easily fall out of her mouth when she screamed.