Yes. Though it requires prep.

Emily agreed to the regression treatment. She bought the tickets and she came all this way. No one said anything about a public bath though.

Emily and Becky had been escorted to the resort's luxury bathhouse. It was more like a swimming pool, the water smelling of flowers and cleansing oils. The two women were undressed by their attendants and escorted in.

They weren't the only women there. Every one of them had at least one personal resort attendant who personally saw to bathe them, shampooed and combed their hair. It was very thorough, and yet relaxing.

The large bath drained and all of the women were all escorted out of the bath into the drying area, tiled and full of lockers.

"Alright ladies. Now for a full tune-up," said one of the attendants. In her gloved hands was a aerosol can of shaving cream and a razor.

Emily and Becky gave each other a **** look.

"I-uh, I think I can do that myself," said Emily.

"You have nothing to worry about, Miss," said her attendant, wringing her gloved hands as the shaving cream foamed. "We're professionals."

All of the women were brought to a bench where their attendants groomed them all from top to bottom. Every follicle of hair not on their heads were swiftly shaven off with near-perfect quality. As embarrassing as it was to have another woman shave her bush in front of so many people, she had to admit she had never been so smooth.

When they were all clean of excess hair, their bodies were then coated in a shiny, sweet-smelling oil that reflected the artificial light around them. Emily swallowed and tried not to react when her attendant cupped both of her breasts from behind applying it.

"This elixir exfoliates and rejuvenates the skin," said one of the attendants.

After applying the concoction everywhere -- everywhere -- on the guests, they were then escorted into the next room. This room was too tiled, and it reminded Emily of a high school bathroom. Conspicuously, the room had no stalls. Instead, there was a row of identical changing tables, with all of the things needed found in built-in cabinets on the wall.

Emily covered her flushed face as her ass was lifted up by the back of her knees as her attendant slid an adult diaper under her. She applied baby oil and baby powder on her shaved cooter and strapped it on. After giving the front of the diaper a pat, she helped sit her up.

The diaper wasn't the kind of bland, white incontinent briefs you'd find at a Walmart. This was baby-pink, with the planetary symbol for Venus on the front and decorated in red hearts. The cushion was insanely thick, keeping both of her legs wide apart. All of the women were dressed in the same diapers.

"These will be your goodnights for your first evening with us," said the Head Attendant. "They will make sure to prevent leakages so that you all will sleep soundly on your first night with us. Unless there is an emergency, guests are not allowed to remove them. Any attempt to do so will usher harsh punishments."

If she hadn't said it with such peppy enthusiasm, such a line would have sounded like something a warden would tell the fresh fish who had just arrived.