Wendy and Michelle had timed it perfectly. Just as they were taping their former boss, current sissy diaper slave and now-benefactor Richard Johnson into his thick Pampers, his 25-year-old spoiled son Richard Junior walked up to them in the park, right where they had said to meet when they sent a text from Senior’s phone.
Junior stood there, mouth agape, eyes wide, watching his powerful father...weep while being taped into diapers by...his fucking Thai housekeepers? What was with the socks? And his hair? And his...dress? “Dad?” he asked as the women wordlessly finished taping him up.
Finally, Wendy looked up at him, then patted his father’s diapered crotch, bringing out a low moan from the pansy. “Junior! Glad you could come. We have some things to discuss. Bad news: Your trust is gone. All of Senior’s money now belongs to us. See, us housekeepers, we see things. Not just illegal immigrants who only clean. We were teachers back home. And we would see your daddy’s diapers and panties and sissy gear in secret closets. Then we looked at his computer. And, lo and behold, we found it pretty easy to blackmail him and turn his life into the diapered sissy hell he always dreamed about. Only reality is a lot tougher!”
Junior now saw his dad’s mouth and realized why he wasn’t speaking. A large pink pacifier had been planted in it and he sucked dramatically on it while avoiding eye contact with his son. “And so now we are getting all his money and you are getting nothing.”
“But you can’t!” Junior yelled and Wendy simply shook her head and continued. “Oh but we can. You know why? Because we control this?” She again rubbed the front of the sissy’s diaper and the moaning continued. “Control a clitty, control a sissy. It’s our motto. And this one...boy he likes his Pampers. Likes shooting his sissy juices into them. Only now that’s not allowed. See, daddy’s cock is locked away in a cage forever, make sure he can’t produce anymore worthless heirs like you. So, like I said. You’re cut off. Good luck making it in the real world.”
Junior started crying. Real world? He had never held a job! He lived off dad’s money. His cars, his pad, his women, all because of dad’s car. Now...oh my god, he would be homeless, he thought. He saw these evil women smiling at him.
Finally Wendy spoke again. “Or,” she said. “You can move back home. To the mansion. To the 13-bedroom palace.”
“Of course. But with one big caveat. You too will be a diapered sissy. Forever. You will be introduced to strict diaper discipline and petticoat punishment. Your cock will be locked away. Your cummies stopped. You will be pooping and peeing in Pampers forever. You will be humiliated beyond belief. We will control you and we are harsh. You, along with your father, will be our maid, our housekeepers, our slaves. Your love life is over. Your driving days are over. Diapers and spankings and skirts and dresses forever. It won’t be easy, I won’t lie. But you will have a home over your head. You will get to live in a mansion. Or you can be homeless. Or if you annoy us too much in the mansion, we sell you overseas to some mean men. Big money for diapered sissy father and son. Some freaks really like that idea. So, I’d suggest behaving.”
Now Michelle reached her hand out to the boy and beckoned him to lie down on the grass next to his father. He put it out and she guided him down and onto his back. He laid next to his dad and their heads turned so their eyes met. Both were crying. There, in the middle of the park, surrounded by dozens, Junior felt his shorts and boxers being pulled off, Michelle snickering at the sight of his small cock. “Like father...” she said and the women snickered. When he started whimpering Michelle put a pacifier of his own into his mouth and now he started sucking in tune with his father. Now, the inevitable: He heard the crinkly diaper being placed under his ass. He felt and smelled the powder. He felt the diaper being brought and taped up. Now Michelle rubbed his diapered crotch, bringing out his own moan, his own desire for a sweet release into his humiliating diapers. “There, there, sweetie. Your first Pamper. Every sissy remembers it. We’ll make sure this one is memorable. Make you mess it and wet it and then take you to your office and change you in the conference room as you tender your resignation. What a first Pamper! First of tens of thousands to come, sissy. You are ours. Forever.” Junior cried. Senior cried. The women beamed.
vaporwave
prguitarman
romaincrisis
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