Dark Doreen (kidnapped for babyhood.) Part 2
Doreen drags and manoeuvres PJ into the room that will now be his new home, The Nursery! She lifts him and lays him down onto the changing table and gets to work quickly. Taking some large scissors she effortlessly cuts away his adult clothing leaving him naked as the day he was born. Doreen then selects a wet razor and some shaving foam, lathering PJs body with the warm foam that she has prepared, she then meticulously shaves his entire body (save from his head hair) free of his masculinity.
As the fog of the chloroform clears, As PJ slowly regains consciousness he finds himself lying down on a changing table. He can do nothing as his drugged state keeps him from putting up much of a fight as Doreen slips a disposable diaper under his naked bottom, within the diaper she spreads a generous amount of thick white paper handkerchiefs that she has taken from the nearby trolly around the thick padded (little for big diaper that she has select for his first induction into adult-babyhood. Doreen also makes sure to use some of the paper hankies to cup his ball sack and shoves some of them between his arse crack. Doreen smiles as she pulls back PJs foreskin and wraps more of the thick crisp white tissues over the helmet of his cock.
"What the hell are you doing to me?" PJ yells, his voice hoarse and panicked. "Let me go, you crazy bitch!"
The room is dimly lit, the walls painted in pastel colors that clash with the harsh reality of his situation. Doreen stands over him, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she adjusts his diaper and tapes it closed securely. "You're going to be Mommy's special baby," she says, her voice soothing yet firm. "And you're going to learn to love it here."
Doreen carefully takes a step back from the changing table, admiring her handiwork. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a blue onesie, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Now, let's get you dressed," she says, her voice dripping with the sweetness of a mother preparing her child for bed. "We wouldn't want you to catch a cold, would we?" She opens the onesie and, with surprising ease, lifts PJ's limp form and places him into it. Doreen takes some more thick white paper handkerchiefs and stuffs the tissues up each sleeve until they bulge with the thick crisp, crinkling mass.
Once dressed, she secures the onesie with snaps that sound like the closing of a casket. Then, with a gentle yet firm hand, she places a thick white wad of her paper handkerchiefs over his mouth and fastens them in place with a leather panel gag, ensuring any of his cries for help will be muffled. "There, that's better," she says, her voice a cooing whisper. "Now, let's see if we can't get those naughty thoughts out of your head."
Doreen uses the straps attached to the changing table to secure PJ. His wrists, ankles and torso are now all restrained. Doreen leans over, her piercing green eyes locking onto PJ's terrified gaze. She holds up another thick wad of tissues, her smile a twisted mix of affection and dominance. "Blow your nose for Mommy," she commands, her voice a syrupy sweetness that sends a shiver down his spine. When he refuses, her expression darkens, and she reaches down to squeeze his testicles through the bulging diaper.
The pain to is sudden and intense, and PJ's eyes widen in shock. He tries to buck his hips away, but the restraints hold him in place. "Now, now," she says, her tone a soothing lullaby, "you know Mommy's only trying to help. Just one little blow, and you'll feel so much better." Her grip tightens, and PJ can't help but whimper in pain. She waits, watching him intently, her hand hovering over the tissues as if daring him to resist. But as the pain becomes unbearable, his resolve crumbles, and he takes a shaky breath before blowing into the tissues with all the dignity he can muster. The sound is pathetic, muffled by the gag and his own fear.
Doreen's smile returns, the corners of her lips curling upwards in a way that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Good boy," she says, her voice a warm caress. She gently wipes his nose with the tissues and then disposing of them into a nearby waste bin. Doreen the reaches for a vibrating magic wand located on the trolley, the kind that could be mistaken for a toy in a child's playroom. "This," she says, holding it up like a prize, "will help you relax."
With a flick of her wrist, she turns it on, and the hum fills the room. PJ's eyes go wide with fear as she brings it closer to his diapered crotch. "Now, don't fight it," she whispers, placing the buzzing tip against the diaper with the tissues within covering his cock. The vibrations travel through the diaper, sending waves of sensation that he can't escape. His eyes widen, and his body jerks against the restraints, his muffled moans echoing through the nursery. Doreen watches him, her own desires growing as she sees his struggle, the power in her grip on the wand a stark contrast to the gentle strokes she uses to coax a response from him.* "That's it," she murmurs, her own breathing growing heavier. "Let Mommy take care of you."
Doreen's eyes light up with sadistic pleasure as PJ's cries grow muffled against the tissues. She strokes the vibrating wand over his bulging diaper, watching the way his body reacts, his cock straining against the fabric. "You see," she says, her voice a low purr, "you're nothing more than my baby now. And if my baby likes tissues so much, he can have as many as he wants." She presses the wand harder, the vibrations increasing in intensity. "That's right," she continues, "make love to Mommy's tissues."
PJ's eyes are filled with a mix of horror and arousal as Doreen continues to manipulate him. He tries to resist, but his body betrays him, his hips bucking involuntarily. The tissues muffle his moans, turning his protests into whimpers of pleasure. "You're doing so well, baby," she coos, her voice a sweet mockery of care. "Just let Mommy make everything better." Her strokes become more deliberate, the vibrations working their dark magic on his sensitive flesh. It's a dance of power and submission, and Doreen is the choreographer, leading him closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Doreen watches PJ's face turn red as he fights for breath, his eyes glazed with a mix of fear and pleasure.
"Mommy's going to make you feel so much better," she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. Doreen quickly unbuckles the panel gag and removes it with the tissues within from his face. She then grabs another wad of thick white tissues from the trolley and douses them with chloroform from the brown bottle. With a swift move, she clamps the fresh paper handkerchiefs that are laced with chloroform over his nose and mouth, cutting off his air supply. "You know the drill," she says, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "If you want to breathe, you have to cum for Mommy."
PJ's eyes go wide with terror, and his body thrashes against the restraints as the potent fumes fill his nose and mouth. The gag muffles his desperate cries, but his eyes are a silent plea for mercy. "Come on, darling," she whispers, her other hand moving the wand in a slow, torturous rhythm over PJs tissue filled diaper "You can do it." The chloroform clouds his thoughts, making the world spin and the pleasure all the more intense. His chest heaves as he tries to draw breath, his orgasm approaching like a runaway train.
The sensation of the tissues rustling with every movement sends a new wave of arousal through PJ, making his struggle against the restraints even more futile. His body responds to Doreen's ministrations despite his fear, his cock growing even harder against the thick padding. He feels his climax building, his hips jerking in time with the vibrations that pulse through the fabric. It's a strange, twisted symphony of pain and pleasure, and he's the unwilling star.
The pressure in his diaper is unbearable, and with one final, desperate heave, he spurts his hot load into the tissue-filled cocoon. The sensation is intense, a mix of relief and horror as he feels his seed absorb into the material. His body goes limp, his eyes rolling back in his head as he succumbs to the euphoria that follows his climax. Doreen's grip on the wand never falters, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watches him lose control. His breathing is erratic, the chloroform making his head spin, and he can feel his consciousness slipping away. The last thing he hears before the darkness claims him is Doreen's voice, a dark lullaby of satisfaction. "Good boy. You're going to be such a good baby for Mommy."
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