Summer's Sticky Submission

The summer heat clings to the city like a lover who won't let go, turning the air thick and sticky as I waddle into Dr. Tush's bustling surgery. My thighs rub together under the crinkly bulk of my diaper, a constant reminder of the regression you've trained me into, Daddy. At 34, I'm short and chubby, my big arse straining against the plastic tabs that hold everything in place—my safety, my submission, my utter belonging to you. The waiting room is a chaotic symphony of coughs and flip-flops slapping linoleum, patients fanning themselves with outdated magazines while I shuffle behind you, my cheeks burning under the weight of knowing anyone could guess what's hidden beneath my loose sundress.

You, Dr. Alex—tall, muscular, with that stern jaw and eyes that pierce like scalpels—lead me by the hand, your grip firm and unyielding. You're in your white coat, exuding the kind of authority that makes my pussy clench even now, after all the nights you've spent breaking me down and building me back up as your cherished little girl. "Stay close, Emily," you murmur, your voice low and controlling, laced with that loving edge that makes my heart flutter. I nod, biting my lip, the humiliation already pooling warm between my legs.

We bypass the line, your status as a fellow physician opening doors. Dr. Tush's office is at the end of the hall, the door ajar, revealing a man in his forties with salt-and-pepper hair and a mischievous glint in his eye. He's my original doctor, the one who first noticed my vulnerabilities during routine check-ups years ago, but you've claimed me fully now. As we enter, he looks up from his desk, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long, then flicking to you with professional curiosity.

"Alex," Dr. Tush says, standing to shake your hand, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. "What brings you to my corner of the madhouse? And with... company."

You smile, that predatory curve of your lips that always makes me squirm, and guide me forward. "I wanted you to see my success story firsthand. Emily here—she's come so far under my care. Fully regressed, diapered, and devoted. But I think she could benefit from a little... variety. I'm lending her to you for the week. Enjoy her, Tush. Explore that slutty side she's got buried under all that chub. But maintain discipline—she requires regular spankings and public humiliation to stay in line. After the week, I've got a proposition for you."

My breath hitches, heat flooding my face as Dr. Tush's eyes roam over me, appraising. He steps closer, and I feel exposed already, even clothed. "Is that so?" he says, his tone appreciative. "Well, Emily, you've certainly filled out since your last visit. Let's see what Alex has trained you into."

You nod approvingly, then lean down to kiss my forehead, your hand cupping my big arse through the dress, giving it a possessive squeeze. "Be a good girl for Dr. Tush, princess. Daddy will be back soon." With that, you're gone, the door clicking shut behind you, leaving me alone with him in the humid office, the distant hum of the surgery underscoring my vulnerability.

Dr. Tush circles me slowly, his fingers trailing the hem of my dress. "Strip, Emily. Let's inspect the goods Alex has polished up." His voice is commanding, but there's a warmth to it, echoing your strict love. I hesitate, the humiliation twisting deliciously in my gut, but I obey, peeling off the sundress to reveal my naked body save for the thick diaper hugging my hips. My chubby belly spills over the waistband, my heavy breasts swaying free, nipples hardening in the air-conditioned chill. My arse, big and round, jiggles as I turn for him, the diaper crinkling loudly.

He chuckles, low and throaty. "Look at you, all padded up like a proper little slut. On the exam table, now. Legs spread."

I climb up, the paper crinkling under me, and part my thighs, exposing the soaked front of the diaper where my arousal has already leaked. He doesn't change it yet—instead, he probes, his gloved hands pressing against the padding, feeling the warmth. "Wet already? Naughty girl. Alex said you need discipline." Without warning, he flips me onto my belly, yanking the diaper down just enough to bare my arse. His palm cracks down, hard and stinging, once, twice, three times. I yelp, the pain blooming into heat that shoots straight to my pussy. "Count them, Emily. And thank me."

"One... thank you, Dr. Tush," I gasp, my voice muffled against the table. He spanks again, each slap echoing in the room, my big cheeks reddening under his assault. By ten, I'm sobbing softly, but my clit throbs, begging for more. He pulls the diaper back up, tapes it secure, and helps me sit, his eyes soft now. "Good girl. That's how we keep you cherished, isn't it? Humiliated but safe."

The week unfolds in a haze of erotic discipline, the summer city pulsing around us like a heartbeat. Dr. Tush takes me back to his apartment above the surgery, a sun-drenched loft with windows that overlook the crowded streets. He doesn't let me wear clothes most days—just the diaper, maybe a pacifier clipped to a collar around my neck. "You're mine to enjoy this week, Emily," he tells me that first night, as he lays me on his bed, the city lights flickering through the blinds. "But I'll make sure you're Daddy's perfect girl when he returns."

He starts slow, cherishing the body you've trained me to love in its submission. His hands massage my chubby frame, kneading my thighs, my belly, until I arch into him, whimpering. "Please, Dr. Tush... touch me." He smirks, sliding a hand into the diaper, fingers finding my slick pussy. "So eager. Let's see how slutty you can be." He teases my clit in slow circles, building me up until I'm grinding against his palm, then stops, leaving me panting. "Not yet. Earn it."

Public humiliation becomes our ritual. The next morning, he dresses me in a short skirt that barely hides the diaper's bulge and takes me to the surgery's rooftop garden—overlooked by neighboring buildings, but semi-private. Patients mill below, oblivious. "Bend over the railing, Emily," he orders, his voice strict. I do, my big arse presented, skirt flipped up. He spanks me there, the slaps sharp against the summer breeze, my cries carrying faintly. A few heads turn from open windows across the way, and shame floods me, but so does desire. "Look at them watching your fat arse jiggle," he whispers, rubbing the heat in. "You're such a dirty little thing."

That afternoon, back in his office between appointments, he explores further. He lays me on the exam table, legs in stirrups, diaper removed for the first time. My pussy is shaved smooth, per your rules, glistening and puffy. "Spread wide," he commands, and I do, feeling utterly exposed as he dives in with his mouth. His tongue laps at my folds, sucking my clit with expert precision, while his fingers probe my entrance. "Fuck, you taste like sin," he groans against me. I buck, moaning loudly, not caring if patients hear through the thin walls. He brings me to the edge, then pulls back, spanking my inner thighs. "Beg for it, slut."

"Please, Dr. Tush, make me cum! I need it!" The words spill out, humiliating and freeing. He obliges, fingering me deep, curling to hit that spot until I squirt, soaking the table, my body convulsing in waves of ecstasy.

Nights are for deeper indulgence. He role-plays as my strict uncle, "disciplining" me for being a naughty niece. One evening, after a public outing where he made me wet myself slightly in the diaper during a crowded park walk—humiliation spiking my arousal—he ties my wrists to the bedposts. "Time to fuck that greedy pussy," he says, shedding his clothes to reveal a thick cock, veined and hard. He rubs it against my diapered crotch first, teasing, then untapes it, plunging in raw. I cry out as he fills me, his hips slamming, my big arse bouncing with each thrust. "Take it, Emily. Show me how well Alex trained this hole."

He flips me onto all fours, spanking as he pounds, calling me his "cherished whore." I cum twice, clenching around him, before he pulls out and cums on my back, hot ropes marking me. Afterward, he cleans me gently, rediapering me with soft words. "You're doing so well, little one. He cherishes you through this."

Midweek, he pushes boundaries, inviting a trusted nurse—a curvy woman in her thirties—for a threesome in his loft. It's consensual, electric, her hands exploring my body while Dr. Tush watches. "Show her your slutty side," he urges. She massages my breasts, sucking my nipples as he fingers my ass through the diaper's back. They strip me bare, and soon I'm between them: her pussy grinding on my face, sweet and musky, while Dr. Tush takes me from behind, his cock stretching my pussy. "Lick her good, Emily," he grunts, spanking my arse. I do, tongue delving deep, her moans fueling my own pleasure. She squirts on my mouth as I cum, and Dr. Tush follows, creampieing me deep, his seed dripping out as they both cuddle me after, praising my submission.

Discipline never wavers. When I "misbehave" by touching myself without permission, he bends me over his knee in the living room, windows open to the street noise below. Twenty spanks, each one making my cheeks burn, tears streaming as passersby might glance up. "This is for your own good," he says, then soothes with lotion, his fingers slipping into my ass for a gentle plug, preparing me. That night, he claims it fully—lube-slicked, slow at first, then thrusting deep, my humiliated whimpers turning to pleas. "Fuck my ass, Dr. Tush! Harder!" He does, until we both shatter, him filling me with a groan.

By week's end, I'm a puddle of sated need, my body marked with faint bruises and my soul cherished in the degradation. The city summer has amplified everything—the sweat-slicked skin, the constant exposure, the thrill of being your loaned-out treasure.

You return on a sweltering Friday, striding into Dr. Tush's office where I'm waiting, freshly diapered and dressed in a simple top and skirt. Your eyes light up as you pull me into your arms, kissing me deeply, tasting the echoes of the week on my lips. "How did it go, Tush? Was my girl good for you?"

Dr. Tush leans back, grinning. "Amazing, Alex. She's a masterpiece—fully regressed, eager to please, and that arse of hers... fuck, it's begging for attention. I maintained the discipline: spankings daily, public outings to keep her humiliated, and plenty of exploration. Her pussy and ass took everything I gave. She's yours, but damn, what a loan."

You chuckle, your hand sliding possessively to my arse, squeezing. "Good. Now, the proposition: I've developed this technique—total regression therapy for willing submissives like Emily. It's revolutionary. Join me in publishing it. We'll take her around the world, demonstrating at conferences, putting her on display. Let professionals play with her under controlled conditions—show how discipline and love create this perfect balance. Travel together, make her the star. What do you say?"

Dr. Tush's eyes gleam. "Hell yes. Imagine the impact—her big, chubby body on stage, diapered and demonstrated. I'll handle the medical angles; you the daddy dynamic."

I listen, heart pounding, the idea of global humiliation thrilling me to my core. You turn to me, your voice softening. "What do you think, princess? Ready to be our success story?"

I nod, pressing against your muscular chest, my voice a whisper. "Yes, Daddy. I'll be good... for both of you. Show the world how cherished I am in my shame."

We leave the surgery together, the three of us, the city summer giving way to promises of exotic locales—Tokyo clinics, Parisian expos, Sydney seminars. Our first stop: a private demo in New York, where you'll present me nude on a stage, diapered and spanked before an audience of peers, then let them touch, probe, under your watchful eye. Dr. Tush will join, fingering me to orgasm as you narrate the technique, your loving control ensuring I'm safe.

Months later, on a sun-baked balcony in Rio, after a conference where I was passed among admiring doctors—hands on my pussy, cocks in my mouth, all consensual and filmed for the book— you and Dr. Tush flank me. You've just fucked me together, your dick in my pussy, his in my ass, a double creampie leaving me dripping and blissful. As the city carnival pulses below, you pull me close. "You're our world now, Emily. Humiliated, cherished, and utterly ours."

I smile, sated and loved, my big arse nestled between you both. "And I wouldn't have it any other way, Daddies." The future stretches out, dirty and exciting, a global tour of ecstasy where every spank, every fuck, every public display binds us tighter. In this life of regression and romance, I've found my perfect, filthy heaven.