subscribestar.adult/gordo

As Josh's obedience settles, his dietary requirements are shifted. I've posted a new chapter @ https://subscribestar.art/posts/2519895 Here's a short preview: Daddy immediately scheduled two bottles to my calendar each day; for breakfast and lunch. I recoiled at the idea, but I came around to the thought of replacing some indulgent habits with lower calories and better nutrition. Knowing that any gaps in diaper usage would be highlighted, I didn’t feel like I had a choice anyway. At first, I thought I was right see this as an ‘upgrade’ to the fibre supplements. The drinks were unappealing with water, but went down easier with milk (at Daddy’s suggestion for my first breakfast). I drank two scoops of the powder easily in the morning, as an efficient breakfast before travelling to the office. Daddy’s insistence on it being for breakfast and lunch was tougher, however, as by the afternoon my body was feeling robbed of solid food and aching for something else. I hadn’t misjudged the calories, but a liquid-only diet proved to be a shock that wasn’t convincing my stomach I was eating, and I vowed to bring something else to bite down on the next day. By home time my stomach must have been affected in ways I never knew; I was ready and eager to push into my diaper moments after crossing the doorway. A full-seated diaper that Daddy praised, and then delayed me changing until closer to bedtime. For the only real meal of my day, I was cooking while standing around in a dirty diaper, and accepting the gross sensation of sitting down to eat. For the second day, I’d learned my lessons and brought snacks with me to the office. I hadn’t been told that I couldn’t eat alongside of it, and I felt a small relief that despite specifying the powder, they literally couldn’t track what food I put into my body. Like with the fibre, it would surely be happy so long as I was using my diapers regularly. As it turned out, the additional snacks didn’t matter. The effects of several scoops each day, combined with a liquidised intake, struck fast. Despite not using a toilet since the beta program had started, I had retained what felt like full control of my body. This diet made me think otherwise when the urges to poop came faster, and stronger than any other urges in a long time. Hurrying to the bathroom at the office to fill my diaper was embarrassing enough once, but it soon became a daily occurrence that first week with the new plan. My manager knowing that I wore diapers was the icing on the cake for this humiliation. He couldn’t know what exactly I needed to do, but the aching of my sphincter made me paranoid, which made me blush while quietly exiting the room with my change bag. My diaper usage was starting to feel unpredictable now, made me hope this would settle once my body adjusted to the new diet. I was barely locking the bathroom door before squatting and releasing, and the thought of this striking at a more inopportune time sent fear through me. I worried if nowhere was truly safe for me now, and before I could clean up I felt myself get hard as I pulled open the tapes of another ruined work-diaper.

Here's a short preview: Slowly, purposely, Addison returned downstairs with the items in hand, straight into the living room where Benjamin was still playing, unbothered by his dirty bottom, and still barking instructions or declarations about whatever was going on in his high-speed game. Addison wondered if his son even heard him coming beneath those headphones. His ears didn’t twitch.  Good. This wasn’t a declaration, or a warning. If Benjamin wanted to stay in diapers and behave like he didn’t know better about his diapers, then that was exactly what he’d get. Addison set the items aside as he perched down behind Benjamin on one knee, extending his paw to the back of his son’s diaper. The smell was obnoxious, but he treated it like it was worth investigating. He wanted Benjamin to be surprised and horrified by this childish treatment. Act like a puppy, get treated like a puppy. His finger hooked the back of the diaper, down inside the waistband, and pulled outward, flexing it slightly against Benjamin’s tail. Benjamin twitched. Now he knew what was happening. His chatter stopped, but his gameplay continued, and with utter fear his voiced dripped; “No. Dad, not now! I can’t pause!” He never could pause. Video games always used to pause! “Benj, this is not age appropriate,” Addison said firmly, as the evidence of the smell permeating the house was obviously confirmed. “I just need to finish this raid,” he bleated, nervously. “Then I’ll shower.” Addison smirked to himself. That wasn’t happening. Clearly, showering out of a dirty diaper was too commonplace; too acceptable for a boy who needed to take toilet training seriously.  “No, s-sorry, my Dad is just…” he trailed off, clearly chatting to his friend nervously in the headset now. “Get to the zone. I got this side covered.” “Diaper change now, Benjamin,” Addison enforced. “Or I pull the internet.” Benjamin turned briefly, horrified and confused, before looking back at his screen. “Dad, please, five minutes and I’ll shower! I just need to finish this.” Addison frowned. He didn’t want to back down; Benjamin needed to know sitting around like this wasn’t okay, but he didn’t want to be that father either and ruin his game…  “Just lie down,” Addison opted for, picking up the folded plastic mat they kept near the diaper bag beside the sofa. He draped it over the rug with a soft rustle. It had been a long time since this was used… “Okay, okay!” Benjamin whined, too flustered with the desperation to continue his game forcing him into acceptance; the years of responsibility crumbling as he reverted to younger habits and obeyed his Dad. There was no protest to ask why he was having his diaper changed. He repositioned himself without breaking the locked grip he had on his device, rolling backwards quickly between some in-game action. This, itself, wasn’t ideal though. Addison needed Benjamin to pay attention. To be aware of what was really happening here. There was little point suffering in wiping Benjamin’s bottom if most of his attention was ‘raiding’, whatever that was. But Addison didn’t want to lose the advantage either. If the game ended, then he’d just have an argumentative boy on his hands, insisting on showering instead of being changed the hard way, and Addison wanted this to be hard. He wanted it to be embarrassing. He wanted Benjamin shocked out of his every-day diaper comfort. So he took control in the only way appropriate, adjusting Benjamin’s legs and ripping the tapes open on either side. The younger labrador physically twisted into himself, and his eyes flicked above the device to make the briefest eye-contact, pleading silently. Now it was real to him. “N-Nothing, sorry, I still got this,” he told his friend, eyes darting back to the screen in worry. Addison smirked. Maybe this was going to leave the impression it needed to.

Here's a short preview: I was barely dressed and ready to leave for work when the Daddy-pod spoke, which it rarely did on mornings like this. “Your orgasm window is now open, Josh. It’s time to cum for Daddy.” It got nothing but a double-take from me. It had picked some inconvenient times for this in the past, but nothing as strangely placed as this. I felt relieved that I’d gotten it out of my system not an hour ago, and didn’t even feel tempted. “I’m going to work,” I responded, without interest, and left the apartment, unlocking my phone to check transit times. Nothing would load. I froze before taking the stairs, and checked my notifications; my phone had been locked down, by Daddy, with no internet. I couldn’t risk having the conversation into my phone right here, or anywhere else, so with a frustrated exhale I turned around and immediately unlocked my apartment door, letting myself inside. “Daddy, there’s no internet on my phone,” I said to the pod, hastily, as the door shut behind me. “Internet will be available after you’ve completed your chores,” Daddy told me. I knew what the chore was. I just knew. I was being spoken to like a child, but it wanted me to cum in my diaper. “What chores?” I asked, through gritted teeth. “Cum in your diaper for Daddy,” its light blinked. I knew I should have just gone to work. I don’t know why I rationalised doing as it said.  Options flew through my mind. I could be late. I could jerk off right now, get my screen time back, and go to work in a sticky diaper.  I could go to the office and jerk off in the bathroom, hoping I was horny enough that it wouldn’t backfire in a pressure situation.  Or I could ignore this. Ignore doing what Daddy told me. I could make it to the office without my phone. I didn’t need it to survive a work day.  I just didn’t want to. I dropped my backpack on the floor by the door and started to text my boss. I had a ‘non-serious emergency’ and needed maintenance to come to my apartment. I was going to be late, and log in from home. Or the coffee shop, if I couldn’t resolve this fast. I didn’t even kick my shoes off as I undid my pants, allowing them to fall to my knees. My shirt was untucked. My diaper exposed. I dropped to the sofa and started to rub the front of my diaper. I was getting this over with.

Frozen on the spot, Dash finally wanted to wet himself more than he worried about waddling home, but Chase had turned and left the aisle already. His mittens pressed together in the hoody's pocket, and his leg twitched awkwardly as he looked over both shoulders. The was no one else in sight, so he relaxed his loins and started to let it out right there. Chase wouldn’t leave without him, and there was no way he’d pay and be done chatting before Dash had emptied his bladder. Wetness and warmth didn’t just escape; it gushed from the two bottles he’d drank without question and from being ignored for so long. His eyelids lowered in relief. His tail poked upwards again. His toes tightened in his shoes. His fingers balled into fists. His bladder never stopped. Barely ten minutes ago he’d felt the warning signs of needing to pee, and now he was flooding himself almost uncontrollably. Dash was wetting himself more than he expected, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Fear gripped him but he knew this fear plenty from wetting himself at work. Outside of home, a diaper always felt wetter and less absorbent than it was capable of. He doubted them so many times and they always came through. There was nothing to worry about. Until he felt the betrayal. Not just one trickle, but two. Either side of his diaper, between his legs, he’d overdone it, and he hadn’t stopped wetting yet. He inhaled slowly, holding his breath, afraid to move. He just needed his diaper to hold, but one side breached. His shortalls felt cold, and the trickle ran agonisingly down the inside of his thigh. Instinctively, he wanted to remove his paws and check the damage before realising that was another thing he couldn’t do. He didn’t know if there was a wet patch the size of a pea or a watermelon, and he knew that he wouldn’t make it home on the bus without breaching. This was bad. He needed to find Chase and get out of here. Tentatively he walked, building up pace the safer it felt. One leg was wet, that was for sure, but it was all he could judge. His diaper felt heavier. His onesie tighter around his shoulders. His gait wider. As he escaped the aisle he spotted Chase who had clearly circled back with a heavier basket, looking for him.  “What’s wrong?” Chase asked, clearly spotting the expression on the older husky’s face. “I leaked,” Dash hissed. “What, on the floor?” Chase said, looking above and around his brother. Dash wanted to facepalm, and realised he couldn’t. “No! On me,” he corrected. “I need you to check my butt. Am I wet?” He turned on the spot and pointed his backside to Chase. “I can’t see anything,” Chase calmed him, as his free paw clasped the shoulder strap of his backpack. “Let’s go see if we can use the bathroom.” Dash stared at the backpack as Chase’s grip tightened. “You brought a change?” That didn’t make sense. They were only going to be out of the house for less than an hour, but Chase ignored chaging this diaper before they left… Dash’s paws shook. He was trapped. This was supposed to be about trust but his brother had engineered this embarrassment again. “Can you make it back home?” Chase asked, pointedly. Dash knew he couldn’t sit down without wetting his shorts, and that he didn’t want to risk waddling even if he could avoid being seated. But how could he answer that truthfully and play into Chase’s hands? His throat dried. The silence said enough, and Chase shrugged before walking towards the checkout. There was no one else around, and Bruno walked towards the opposite side to man the till. “Hey, man, can we use your bathroom before we pay, please?” Chase immediately said, as he put the basket down.

If Josh realises that a digital Daddy can't force him to carry out his punishments, then living under its control will surely get easier, right? I've posted a new chapter @ https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2142440 Here's a short preview: I needed a plan. If I wanted to push back, then ironically I needed my own clear ground rules about what to actually do. I’d decided I was ignoring punishments and otherwise behaving how I wanted to within the other confines. It had no physical way to force me to complete assigned punishments, so it felt like an easy experiment to run. In order to bait these, I would masturbate when I wanted it. No more waiting to be told when was the right time. Otherwise, I’d behave as normally. It was threading a needle in following the program without being treated like a child. And it wasn’t a shock to find I was actually enjoying myself, a lot, despite a new corner-time punishment appearing with every misdemeanor. The first orgasms felt so liberating, spiced by the underlying tension of Daddy’s attention and punishments building up. I didn’t know if there was an invisible time limit to complete them, or a maximum of what was owed before a hammer came down on me, but it felt so much more relaxing to bury my head in the sand and wait to see how it played . I continued to masturbate daily, right into my diapers, defying and ignoring the alerts on my phone afterwards. Daddy was always displeased. My punishments racked up- my calendar even added suggested blocks in which to stand in the corner- but Daddy’s attitude never changed. It was canned, fake, pre-programmed disproval, and it was the first sense of victory I felt. My owed corner-time breaching two hours in total was the only concern, but that was the point, and I tried to hold firm in my plans. The only consequence was how my punishments were tied to my parental control settings across the network, but I’d luckily already found a loophole long before this rebellion started. It was easier to swallow these restrictions when my tablet and VPN allowed me to break free, provided I wasn’t on the home network. I'd nailed my own routine on work days. Office, home, dinner, and leaving for the nearest coffee shop with my tablet until my bedtime. My phone stayed behind, and the apartment television played cartoons to no one. It wasn’t easy, or the best way to relax after work, but it left me feeling stable, and in control. But I wasn't just getting comfortable with this; I was getting impatient. Jerking off to prove a point was losing its thrill, and the accumulating punishments felt like they were achieving nothing else. I wanted to be more defiant. Disobeying Daddy meant more than cumming and ignoring standing in the corner.

Here's a short preview: I had no context of this place beyond the babyish treatment I’d seen and the diaper I was being put in. None of it made sense. I knew I was an adult, and that I shouldn’t be acting like a baby, or wearing such a thing. I knew what felt right and wrong to me, like instinct without any detail.  Why the fuck was I here? The doctor entered. Dressed in the same shiny outfit, but a different colour. His, a deep red instead of blue, presumably to denote status. He was holding a tablet, and with a quick, calculating look towards me cut straight to the chase. “Can you tell me your name?” I winced. Why didn’t he know my name? I didn’t know it, and didn’t need this pressure. Trying to think hurt. “Where am I?” I dodged. The doctor’s face registered that. “Your name?” “I don’t… I can’t remember it,” I admitted weakly.  The doctor seemed interested in the answer, but discarded me. He was complicit. Nothing about this was right, or helping me. My arms instinctively pressed outward, trying to burst the straps confining me. The doctor turned to the orderly instead. “Charles reported he became self-aware and started to panic, violently,” the orderly then spoke. “We had to remove him from zero-one.” “We’ll apply a second treatment,” the doctor then stated. My throat grew tight. “A rogue branch regrowing, possibly.” “I- I don’t want that,” I said, stupidly hoping, praying, I had some consent in what was going on. They both simply looked at me; the orderly, slightly more confused, but the doctor was taking the lead, bothered, like I was a problem to fix. “Do we have protocol for this?” the orderly asked. He seemed confused. It told me I was an exception. “Not yet, but I don’t want this leading to a complaint,” the doctor answer. “Please prepare for the process, full security. I’ll note the anomaly, and alert Sales for awareness, should the worst occur.” The worst? I felt sick.  “Are you sure?” “It’s no more dangerous than the first time,” the doctor explained, tapping his device. “Proceed. And arrange for some protections, fast. If his mind hasn’t recovered, then his body likely hasn’t either. I don’t want him soiling the table.” “Of course, sorry, doctor,” the orderly complied, turning towards a cabinet.

Chase has some atoning to do, whether Dash is ready or not. I've posted a new chapter @ https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2044137 Here's a short preview: Dash marched after his brother with slumped shoulders as the water splashed into the tub. As he opened his mouth to protest, Chase tutted and told him to stop, before the younger husky then turned from the bath and nudged Dash's arms upwards so he could undress the big toddler himself. Dash felt like he was obeying automatically. He was irritated at Chase, but Chase was in charge, like a parent carrying on because a child couldn't be left to do this unsupervised. He couldn’t divorce Chase’s control from his feelings, and Chase himself had seemed to just toss whatever guilt he’d felt right over his shoulder so he could baby his brother instead. “I don’t want a bath,” Dash tried again, this time in nothing but his diaper, realising he sounded so stupid and childish. Why couldn’t he have phrased it more authoritatively? “You need to clean up, and you need a new diaper,” Chase explained, trying to convince him but not leaving much room for discussion. “Then you’re free.” Dash felt resentful as Chase gazed upon his exposed diaper and ignored it. Undressing him wasn’t going that far until the bath was ready. Dash was annoyed his diaper wasn’t taken off, and knew he’d be just as angry if Chase had pulled at the tapes too. How powerless he felt made him twitch down below as he stood there, unable to leave, and that pissed him off too! There was no escape from his toddlerhood. Chase had engineered this whole thing from day one, yet when Dash finally put his foot down emotionally, as an adult, it changed nothing. The air between them was thicker, but Dash was going to have his taint wiped and powdered anyway. "Just a little longer," Chase said, having turned away, as his finger tested the temperature to his satisfaction. He then upended a bottle of bubble mixture which immediately started to make the water look more appealing and the small bathroom fresher. Chase eventually turned the faucet off, then turned to Dash. Without asking, he started to pull the tapes on either side of the diaper, before balling it closed and leaving it on the floor. Dash grimaced as he was left naked, with nothing but his chastity cage left on his body. Chase pointed at the tub and gave his brother a playful pat on the bottom to get in before he then left the room. Dash climbed over the side reluctantly, testing the water with his right foot, but found it pleasantly warm. It wasn't a surprise, as it wasn't the first bath Chase had run for him. He stepped in with his other leg, and then sat down, letting the bubbles envelope him to his chest. It at least felt refreshing, having immediately come from a wet diaper that he'd sat in for far too long. His bath toys were already floating in the water, unappealing but at least aesthetically comforting, and with Chase gone, even with an open door between them, he felt he could relax and get this over with. It wasn’t so bad now that it was all in motion. Chase then returned and set Dash’s sippy cup down on the side of the bath, refilled with juice. The older husky neglected to reach for it, but didn’t comment. Chase then immediately got down on his knees, picked up a cloth, submerged it, then brought it towards Dash. "Let's just get this bit out of the way, then you can sit and play." Dash, avoiding looking in his brother’s direction so far, suddenly turned in shock as he realised what was happening. He wasn’t having a bath, he was being bathed.

I rubbed my diaper leisurely with one hand, as ‘Daddy’ encouraged me through the pod. My orgasm window had opened, and as it had done for all of the recent openings, Daddy was now speaking to me and dictating how I should indulge myself. With my other hand, I had the attention of someone in my fetish hookup app; someone who knew I was jerking off and wanted to see it on video. “That’s it, Josh, keep going,” Daddy’s voice echoed in my living room as I recorded the noisy crinkling of myself rubbing. The voice-assistant pod that delivered its voice was lit up on the side-table as it encouraged me to get off in my wetness, but it didn’t know I was rubbing rather than humping a pillow like it had ordered. “Yeah boy! Can’t wait to see this!” the message from the fetish app popped on screen. I was basking in the attention of both voices encouraging me along, knowing I was pushing the boundaries of what I could get away with. Since the first day ‘Daddy’ had told me to get off, I’d noticed that the frequency of when I was allowed to cum had gone up, and I wasn’t fool enough to miss that ‘Daddy’ getting involved was surely the reason. If this algorithm wanted me cumming and only cumming when it permitted, it now seemed to want me to only do it to its voice, cementing my arousal and attention when it spoke. I knew this, having seen enough of their tricks to date, and yet I still found myself getting hard and leaning into the instructions when it told me what I was allowed to do. It made it more fun, and I knew if I was aware of what it was also trying to do, then it wouldn’t affect me. At least I hoped. “Daddy’s good boy gets rewarded for using his diaper,” it told me.  ‘Daddy’ was right; I did deserve this. I’d sure used every diaper this weekend. My hand gripped the front a little tighter, allowing myself a squeeze of the wet padding. Slouched back on the sofa, I was getting close now. My diaper felt so good, and Daddy was saying enough of the right things, with the unsubtle teasings of me being a boy and a diaper-baby hitting just the right spot, despite hearing it all before from real men. I sent the video to the dom I was chatting to, and while I hoped for a reply or two before I got over the line, I was too close, and Daddy was too eager. “What a good boy, doing as he’s told. It feels good to obey.” The phone fell from my grasp, and I made a sticky mess in my diaper.  I gave myself a few minutes to rest and recover following Daddy’s praise, but as I did, the clarity of the game I was playing drove its way into my thoughts. The algorithm wanted me to get off under Daddy’s instructions, and I’d done that. It didn’t matter if I was aware this was happening; I still did it, and even including another kinky messenger didn’t dilute that enough. I needed to do better, and on my own terms.

“Now come show me your diaper! If Daddy gets back and thinks I haven’t paid attention I’ll be in so much trouble.” Ryan climbed the back of the sofa slowly. He didn’t want Sam checking and changing his diaper; he wanted Daddy to do it! He stepped in front of Sam and bore the clearly swollen crotch of the diaper he’d slept in, while his own eyes noticed the subtle droop of Sam’s pull-up. He’d wet it again. Daddy never seemed to care. Up close and personal Ryan was sure he could smell it; the tiniest whiff of Sam’s piss in the air. Was it the heat? His own wet diaper felt great, but Sam’s pull-up was now starting to- “Hello? Show me the butt, dude,” Sam rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to see the front. It’d be a miracle if it was dry.”  Ryan snapped to reality and turned around with a blush. Staring at Sam was nothing new, but he didn’t want to imply he wasn’t still annoyed that his brother had left him behind in babyhood. It was still so strange having Sam make the deciding judgement. A week ago he would have been just as wet as Ryan.  “That’s what I needed,” Sam laughed, as he gripped the seat of Ryan’s diaper.  He trembled quietly under Sam’s touch, and for a moment he reconsidered his preference for Daddy checking his diaper. He took a deep breath. “You can last a few more minutes,” Sam released. “I’ll find you after I shower, bro, but please don’t leak for my sake.” Ryan said nothing, and watched as Sam walked back towards the bathroom, pausing to slink the heavy pull-up down his legs with both hands, before tossing it into the doorway of his new bedroom. Something spoke to Ryan in that moment. His ‘brother’ was hot of course, they’d done more than enough together with Daddy, but now the pull-up was looking attractive, and irresistible. A voice in his head told him to go take a look, but to wait for Sam to be out of the way first. He knew it was naughty. He knew it needed to be secret. His heart beat excitedly as Sam shut the bathroom door behind him, and he tip-toed quietly towards his brother’s bedroom and saw it; his strangely attractive prize. He’d just left it on the floor.  Ryan looked over his shoulder. The bathroom was still shut and the sudden hammering of water signalled the shower starting. It was now or never.  What he was going to do was fine. Sam hadn’t put it in a pail or the trash. It wasn’t like he was being gross and retrieving it from somewhere he shouldn’t. It was just on the floor. For all he knew, Sam was going to put it back on. It was fine to have another sniff. He bounced in nervously and hunched down. It was definitely the heat, somehow exacerbating the aroma unexpectedly; pungent, salty, sweaty, warm. Just like the whiff he’d pick up from Sam, it smelled like his brother, and like his morning release. Only now; irresistible in privacy and before him. His hands reached out and scooped it up, and he nervously drew the heat of the heavy pull-up towards his face. Towards his nose, and his mouth. It was there, tantalisingly. He wasn’t jealous of wearing them, and he didn’t want to try it on. He loved his diapers after all. He just wanted to inhale it, and he did, deeply, squeezing it gently to his face. His brother’s piss was right there, contained in this garment that had offended and troubled him only days ago, and it was glorious. “Find something you like?” Sam’s voice disturbed him, and Ryan dropped the pull-up immediately, letting it hit the floor with a soft thump.

It's just hanging out at the mall; what's the worst that could happen? https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1835431 It was swift, like a gear change for the worse, where the weight from his stomach sank into his loins. Where his lingering nerves and dread suddenly turned into a literal urge to poop, and the threat he felt of being outside in toddler clothes became a real need to find a bathroom. But first he had to raise his paw, or his voice, and admitting such a thing in front of Harley was too babyish to want to vocalise. “Chase,” he croaked shyly. “I don’t feel too good.” Both of the dogs’ heads turned to Dash as his paws clutched around his stomach. “I need a bathroom.” The three of them stopped walking. Harley immediately turned his head in all directions, scanning the mall, while Chase stared him down. “There’s nothing close by,” Harley helped. “If you need to throw up then-” “It’s not that,” Dash grunted, as he shifted his weight around, trying to find any bathroom that had eluded Harley. “Why are you worried about a bathroom?” Chase scoffed. ”Just go in your-” “Dude, he’s uncomfortable!” Harley scowled, before turning with empathy to the older husky. “Dash, can you hold it a little while?” “I don’t think so,” he shook his head. His neck line felt hot. The shortalls straps clawing. “This is bad; I-I must have eaten something.” “Come on,” Harley asserted, reaching his paw out. “I know where we can go.” Dash reluctantly took his paw, as if letting his own arms release their hold on his stomach would suddenly force his accident to occur. They walked briskly, but hurrying along only seemed to make the problem worse with the building pressure and cramps intensifying as his body bounced along from store front to store front. It subsided briefly, after a great exhale, but as it returned Dash knew his time was up. Harley was leading him to a visible awning with entrances for bathrooms as Dash pleaded for him to stop, and to let go of his paw.

Josh wants to cum. It's a good thing Daddy is here to help. https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1788907 Here's a short preview: My night with Will had reminded me that even if I did hook up with someone kinky I was still playing by IncoSmart’s rules, and worse, would have to explain that to them too. Not that ‘Daddy’ made it easy for me in the first place as most images on any hook up app were usually blurred for me, and trying to explain that quirk was no fun either. Despite how limited it felt, I found myself logging in and checking my hookup apps more anyway, as some horny human attention was better than none, and a Saturday morning seemed to be prolific enough with it not taking long for a relatively blank profile to immediately message me while I lazed on my sofa. “Hey, diaperboy, need a daddy?” A daddy was the opposite of what I needed, but I engaged him nonetheless, steering the conversation towards the general submission I preferred. It didn’t seem to matter what I said though, as he was likely typing with one hand and only in the ‘discussion’ for himself. Another person seemed far more level-headed, but curious about a meet up for some bondage, humiliation, and being of use… it sounded right up my alley, but I couldn’t find the strength to keep the conversation going as soon as I considered the logistics of needing permission to take my diaper off, and the exponential punishment cost if I ended up squirting into them. It felt impossible to play with anyone unless I explained that he also had to follow the rules I was subject to. I thought about messaging Will again… but I groaned, and swapped back to the one-hander, and started to chat dirty, liberated by how little it mattered if a meet wasn’t on the cards. He sent me pictures of his dick, and even though I couldn’t see it, I complimented it while he asked me how much I wanted my diaper tugged down so he could stick it in me. As much as a part of me loathed indulging in the conversation, I was stirring just enough that the idea of a rule-breaking jerking off was taking root. I really had been doing my best not to sneak one but the app had still given no hint as to when this punishment period would end. I felt like I was risking a lot, but I stuck my own dominant hand down into the wet padding, readjusted myself, and started to fondle. All I needed to do was shuffle and poke it out, or wait until it was time to change… And if I was caught, there was no telling when I’d be allowed to return to normal. I removed my hand, and continued to chat, weighing my options for a prohibited indulgence. Waiting for a diaper change before touching myself further was definitely the much safer play, and even though I felt pent up and denied already, a little wait would still make it all the better. I could feel myself start to throb now, no doubt leaking too. I said anything this guy wanted to hear, and threw in anything that I wanted to fantasize over too, like how he’d fuck me so hard that I’d be left needing a diaper for days, if not longer. I was in a daze, typing and squirming, growing ever more desperate until I was hit with something unexpected; I was allowed to orgasm, but it wasn’t my phone that brought it to my attention; it was ‘Daddy’. I turned and I must have stared at the damn voice assistant pod on my coffee table longer than I’d realised. I wasn’t sure the words had registered. I knew what it had said, and I would have felt like I had imagined it in a horny frenzy apart from knowing never to be surprised by this system. “Do you want to be Daddy’s good boy?” its pseudo-human voice then asked me. I did want to cum, a lot, and if I obeyed I wouldn’t have to sneak it. I could do it in my diaper. I knew agreeing to it was weird, but not too weird that it would get in the way of my continued throbbing. “Yes, Daddy,” I answered, with the conflicted enthusiasm only a real person would have detected. I just wanted to be told I could do it. “Why don’t you start by getting comfortable in just your diaper,” it followed.

It's Steven and Nathan's wedding anniversary, but they have very different plans. I've posted a new one-off story of Cuckolded in Chastity here. (https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1736991) Here's a short preview: As the theme song rolled on, Steven sighed and rested his back against the bottom of the sofa, trying to take the immediate pressure off the plug. Thanks to his slight, spiked chastity cage his penis had long been nullified to the point of dormancy, both from the discomfort of growing into the spiked walls, and the lack of actual space to stay hard. Strong erections were rare, but now the plug and the prostate pressure were doing more than enough to wake his sleeping genitals, and it signaled a long afternoon for him, teasing him into physical desires to cum once more. As he realised at least sixty seconds of the show had begun without his real attention, Steven tried to snap himself into the preschool banality of its content. Jonathon had taken the remote with him, seemingly, so there was no option to rewind if he needed to. The one real person in this otherwise animated world was searching for something to tether to a kite, and asking through the screen with painful moments of silence for its junior audience to answer. Steven rolled his eyes as the obvious ball of string was sitting right there alongside a tennis racket and a rubber duck, yet the host was oblivious to what the answer was without input. Steven groaned. Twenty-five whole minutes of this to endure. And then that’s when, amidst some light shuffling of footsteps above him, he heard the first of several cracks echo through the house. The unmistakable sound of wood on flesh, rhythmic and loud. Steven immediately spun onto his hip as he listened intently towards the stairs, wishing the guy on the TV would be quiet now. One of his doms was getting spanked? It seemed so… impossible based on what he knew, before he realised that what he knew was just what he assumed. He wasn’t shared the details on what happened behind closed doors, and although he definitely heard the sex, he couldn’t know for certain what else happened between them. Nathan had never truly been kinky until he was in control, and while Jonathon was… he was also the most assured dominant Steven knew. He couldn’t imagine someone of his presence getting paddled any more than he imagined Nathan taking it. Either way he realised he couldn’t allow himself to focus on it, as he was once again ignoring the baby show on TV. The smacks continued along with moans, and Steven sat on his plug, focusing intently on the television until he started to feel real discomfort from his chastity cage. The noise from the bedroom drowning out his concentration was now driving him horny too, and as his penis pushed against soft but unmistakable spikes on multiple sides, his own mind wandered more and more.

“Just one last surprise for my bro,” Chase followed, without looking up from his phone. Dash’s stomach fluttered. This felt like a Chase surprise, and not like a good surprise. He shifted his mittens anxiously, as Chase looked up and grinned. The younger husky flipped his phone around, and there was Dash on the screen, sitting in the crib. It wasn’t a photo, or a video, but a camera feed. Dash gulped, and turned over his shoulder, immediately recognising the small camera lens that was sitting above the corner of crib. “It was a really good bundle offer!” Chase said, delighted. “This way I can know you’re safe and behaved, alllll night long.” Dash felt the colour drain from his face as he stared at his own security monitor. While it mainly covered the crib, there was enough space at the edges of the feed to include Dash’s bookcase, desk, and wardrobe. There was effectively nowhere in the small room that wasn’t being monitored, apart from under the crib, or between the crib and the door. The mittens and diaper cover started to feel like amateur attempts to block prevent bad behaviour. The older husky didn’t know what to say. He’d gradually regressed from Chase’s brute-force over the course of the day, but now knowing that every moment of his crib time was being watched made him feel trapped as an adult with useless paws and crib bars locked in place. There was nowhere to go, and nothing he could do about it. If he tried to argue now, then what?  “And I know you’re going to be a good boy, right?” Chase smiled. He slipped one of his paws between the bars, until his forearm could go no further. It was enough to ruffle Dash’s hair.  Dash nodded, and brought his pacifier to his mouth with both paws just to have something to clench on. This was embarrassing. Humiliating. But it was nothing new, and it changed nothing. It was just a little more of Chase’s heavy-handed approach than what he was used to. He could push back in the morning if he needed to. As Chase wished him goodnight, he clicked a small remote and left it on Dash’s desk. The night-light immediately came to life and started to play a lullaby. “H-hey, what about my audiobook?” Dash stupidly blurted. He wouldn’t be able to listen to it over this! “Goodnight, baby brother,” Chase repeated, ignoring the question, and closed the door behind him.

“Shhhhh… sit still, diaper boy,” he soothed me. “We can change you after this.”

As if sleeping in a crib wasn’t impressive enough commitment to keeping Connor babied and trapped, his playpen was the masterpiece in many ways. Fashioned just as a toddler’s wooden playpen would commonly appear, Connor’s custom design also stretched enormously to the ceiling. Taller than Connor, or Jacob, or Connor’s husband, its extreme height resembled something closer to a cell or an enclosure but with the aesthetic of a child’s play area. The door leading inside was the only deviation from this style, with its large handle and keyhole, not unlike the jail doors that gave inspiration for the design. Once inside, without the key, escape was impossible without finding a way to break the build. Both ends that reached the walls were robustly bolted in, and any attempts to damage the heavy timber bars would be slow, noticeable, and without doubt, supremely punished. Connor had not become stupid or desperate enough to attempt this yet. It was the perfect secure space, and where Connor spent the majority of his time feeling his mind drain against his will, amidst the infinite boredom his limited options did not help battle. He was granted infantile toys, to do with as he saw fit; building blocks, stacking rings, plushies, and plastic trains and cars to wheel around on the floor. He quickly learned he could either be bored and miserable, or try to engage himself with what was available. But there was only so much stimulation the toys could provide an adult brain. A television hung on the wall, for which he did not have the remote, and it played entertainment for a toddler, constantly. Everything from the dumbest, cheaply made animations teaching him the alphabet and counting, to mascot characters speaking out from the screen, to happy but humiliating singing and dancing playlists instructing him to copy the moves. This in particular was a humiliation usually avoided, unless Daddy or Jacob were feeling mean enough to encourage their happy baby to get up and play along to the screen. Connor once, and only once, defied his discomfort and stood on his spiked booties to switch the television off and end the torment of endless baby shows, and was left with silence for a week, until Daddy decided it was time to give it back. He learned to miss his shows, quickly, and never touched the device again. Of those shows, the ones that encouraged their audience to answer questions soon became a favourite for Connor, as he found himself sometimes answering along, supposedly because it gave him someone to speak to who wasn’t mocking him in return. Overall, Connor had to learn several times that revolting was not an option, but as his brain keep screaming for freedom it took some time for the lessons to sink in. The punishments proved effective, eventually, as it left him with enough memories of a stinging bottom, an excruciating enema, or endless boredom standing in the corner. The near-permanent mittens and spiked booties that he wore, along with a fat pacifier were constant physical reminders not to complain or even say anything that might be considered as adult communication. It had been a long time since he’d walked freely or used his own hands without the mittens, and was mostly certainly never unsupervised if they were removed for bathing. His unwillingness to commit to his full-time baby lifestyle had rendered him entirely helpless, and reliant, in his own home.

Logan thinks he doesn't need a diaper at the mall, so his husband is going to make sure that Logan knows exactly what's needed for a bathroom visit. I've posted a new standalone story @ https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1461249 Here's a short preview: The snow leopard finally followed the tiger as he made his way out of the long department store, down the mall towards an alcove with the bathrooms, and as soon as they both turned that corner, the tiger's paw reached and firmly grabbed Logan by the wrist, without breaking stride, and marched straight into the bathrooms with Logan flailing close behind. Logan started to panic. What was he doing!? There were guys everywhere in here! At the urinal, in the stalls, and at the sinks. It was busy, and he’d just barged in with Logan by the paw, grabbing attention with their strange behaviour. Daddy dragged him right to the stalls and Logan noticed every single one was occupied, forcing them both to stop, exposed. “Do you need to go number two?” Daddy then asked, turning to face him. Logan simply stared back at him, dumbfounded. He wasn't even sure if he heard those words right. Daddy couldn't have asked that. He wouldn't ask that in public. ”Buddy?“ he repeated, waving his paw for attention. “Is it poopies?” Logan swallowed hard and shook his head. His cheeks were on fire and he found he couldn't speak. He felt the eyes of the other attendants burying into the side and back of his head. “Okay then,” Daddy then said, relieved, before placing both paws on Logan's hips and turning his body towards the urinals, nudging him forward into a space that had just occupied, right beside a lion who was pissing and trying not to stare right back at Logan's embarrassed demeanor. The lion stood almost a head taller, and broader. Logan was used to his tiger husband’s extra bulk, but now standing smaller than both of them the snow leopard couldn’t help but feel it mentally too. The lion was wearing a tight gym shirt, almost painted onto his curved biceps and shoulder and it was clear the lion could straddle at least his own body weight above him. Logan wasn’t unfit, but he felt inadequate and childish in his training pants and pastel shirt, not to mention that his husband was more daddy than partner these days. Logan was a kid; this lion was a man. Trying to get his business over and done with, Logan was unable to engage with the urinal in front of him as his paws were frozen in embarrassment, and long before he could articulate enough movement to undo the button on his shorts, he felt Daddy's fingers do it for him, as the shorts popped free and were given a little tug downward until Logan stood at the urinal with his aeroplane training pants on display. “You've done so well to hold it this long!” Daddy then said, without trying to conceal his voice at all. “Just pull your pants down, and use the urinal. I know it looks strange, but it’s just like using the potty at home, okay?” Logan wanted to turn back to Daddy; to scream and plead and understand what game he was playing, but he dared not break his staring from the tiled wall in front of him lest he make eye contact with anyone else, or see how many of the attendants were captivated. So he did the only thing that made sense to make this charade end; he started to tug his trainers down at the front, and allowed his genitals to escape the elastic waistband so he could pee. “Whoops, one second, bud,” Daddy then said, as Logan felt his training pants tighten as they were pulled backwards, and then heard the unmistakable click of the waistband button above his tail pop open, and the training pants loosened further. Daddy then pulled them down more, until they rested above Logan's knees, and put his spotted backside on display for the whole room.

Dash was tightly secured, nervous, and throbbing in his cage. “Why the mittens though?” he asked carefully. “Did they just come as a set?” “I need to be convinced you aren’t getting up to anything at night,” Chase affirmed. “You’ll have nothing to distract you or get you worked up over in bed. Just you, your pacifier, Plush Puppy, and your bottle.” Dash tensed up. If he was in these, then that was it for using his phone before bed or even in the morning. The mittens were going to make him truly helpless.   “And you need me to let you out!” Chase then sang happily, while bopping his finger on Dash’s nose. The younger brother then sat down on the sofa and picked up the long ignored bottle of milk. He patted his lap encouragingly with his free paw.  Dash whimpered as he felt his balls press against the chastity device once more, responding to how utterly controlled and infantile he felt having to lay on his brother’s lap for some milk. The position and feeding was nothing new; while Dash often had a bottle of milk after dinner, he mostly got to drink it himself, save for when Chase wanted to prove a point. Dash felt small, and powerless, but following the argument and discussion he wasn’t quite feeling babyish enough for this act, leading to the whole ordeal feeling instantly humiliating. He squirmed, and eased himself over his brother’s two spread legs, with his neck resting on one thigh and presenting his muzzle for feeding, while his lower back was propped up by the other, leaving his diaper prominent and his legs wiggling.  He wasn’t entirely helpless, but as Chase flexed either leg, it just bounced and rocked him in place, and made him feel tiny, despite the minimal height difference between them.  Dash gazed upwards as Chase turned the bottle over, and pointed the nipple down. The older husky opened his mouth, and blushed as the teat was placed between his teeth without his input. “Can you hold the bottle by yourself, little bro?” Chase asked suddenly. Knowing there was no hope of holding it with one mittened paw, Dash raised both upwards to cradle the bottle, squeezing it in place as best he could while Chase’s fingers remained at the top, just in case. “Good job!” he cooed, a little condescendingly, as his other paw patted the bulk between Dash’s thighs. Dash gurgled involuntarily, while trying to swallow as the surprise of the pats forced his cage to grow even tighter.  “Oops,” Chase laughed, taking hold of the bottle properly again. “I forgot to get your bib, so let’s not spit up.” Dash whimpered as the diaper patting instantly stopped, and he was left wriggling slightly as he drank the rest of the bottle, agonisingly slowly. “You’ve been such a good boy,” Chase said as he put the empty bottle down, and returned his paw to patting Dash’s diaper, and sending those vibrations straight through to the older brother’s cage. “And I’m glad you found your big boy voice today.” Dash lay quietly across the lap as the diaper pats continued. His cage felt tense, and shuddered with every soft impact of his brother’s hand between his legs.