Untitled

He will arrive when he is told to arrive. He will wear what he is told to wear. He will speak when he is told to speak. He will take what he is told to take. He will stop when he is told to stop. He will leave when he is told to leave.

He was blindfolded, his eyes covered in thick blackout padding. Over his ears, large, padded headphones pulsed with a slow rhythm of hypnotic loops—chimes, affirmations, and a male voice, deep and calm, whispering gentle instructions that melted into his brain like warm syrup.

“Good sissies stay still.”

“Wet without thinking.”

“No thoughts, no choices… just crinkles.”

The pacifier gag kept his mouth full and silent. It was big, stretching his jaw, silencing any resistance. His hands were mittened, fingers useless inside the soft padding. Every part of him had been dulled, softened, stripped of control.

He didn’t know how long he’d been like this. Time didn’t matter anymore.

What he did know was that he wasn’t alone.

A presence shifted nearby. The bed dipped slightly. A hand—a strong, adult male hand—rested on his diapered thigh and squeezed gently. A low chuckle followed.

“That’s it, little one,” came the familiar voice. Deep. Confident. Completely in control. “Still soaked. Just like I expected.”

The heat rushed to his face. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t explain himself. Not that it mattered.

“You couldn’t even last a few hours,” the man continued, his voice thick with amusement. The hand moved, palm running slowly over the front of the soggy diaper, pressing it down to feel just how full it was. “You don’t even try to hold it anymore, do you? That’s good. That’s very good.”

He trembled slightly beneath the touch. The voice in the headphones kept looping.

“Sissies don’t use toilets.”

“Sissies are grateful to be padded.”

“Messy… helpless… happy.”

The man leaned down, his breath warm near the boy’s ear. He tugged one earphone away for just a moment—just long enough to speak words that weren’t part of the recording.

“You asked for this,” he said softly. “You begged for structure. For discipline. For someone to take control and make the decisions you were too weak to handle. And now look at you.”

A pause. A pat to the front of the diaper.

“My crinkly little project. Hopeless. And perfect.”

Then the earphone was slid back into place, sealing the boy back in his sensory cocoon. The voice resumed:

“Good diapered sissies thank their caregivers.”

“Fankk ooo” he murmured into the gag, but it came out even more muffled.

“You’re welcome, little one.” He said with a chuckle, placing his hand on the front of the plump padding again. He could feel that the sissy was hard, of course he was. He pressed down harder. The sissies hips immediately started thrusting, gyrating beneath him, like he’d pressed ‘on’-switch. The man didn’t even move his hand, just left it there while the desperate sissy squirmed beneath him. He groaned and moaned through his pacifier gag, whimpering, so starved and needy for some sort of stimulation other than the hypnotic buzz coursing through his headphones.

It didn’t take long. 30 seconds maybe before the sissy was spasming beneath his grip. His breath came in short, muffled gasps behind the gag. Then, finally, a long exhale as his balls emptied into his padding the same way his bladder had.

“Every release brings you deeper.” The voice in the headphones reminded him. He tugged at the bonds.

“No escape. No need.”

And so he lay there—helpless, humiliated, hypnotized in his own sticky shame—with no idea how long it had been or how much longer he would be trained like this.

But he knew one thing.

“I don’t know…it’s usually something like ‘help’, ‘please’, ‘get me out of here’, or ‘i don’t want to wear diapers’…”

The liquor part went fine as always. All three of them were blitzed by the time Jake dug into the “tool box” in the garage where his dad thought he was doing a good job of hiding his skin flicks. He pulled out a few and decided to start the festivities with the box labeled “BAD GIRLS, BIG TITS.” Fuck yeah! Look at that chick on the front! Yep, those are officially big tits and the boys couldn’t imagine just how bad of a girl she was.

Jake tossed the tape in. The camera started in a kitchen and then walked through a living room and into a bedroom. No credits. No fun music. Uh, okay? Then the camera panned to a corner of the room. No naughty girls. No big tits. The trio watched in silence before Jared finally spoke with the only line that made sense.

“What in the fuck?”

On the camera–and now on the TV–was some dude. 20ish maybe? In a crib. Bound. Gagged. Diapered. Bound. Gagged. Diapered. Yep. It took all of them a few minutes to realize that’s what was on the screen. And that 20 year old bound, gagged and diapered guy was whining and moaning and bawling and pleading through his gag, to the camera man probably. Okay, some weird gay porn. Yuck! Jake would have to figure out later what the fuck was going on with his dad but as he went to eject it Michael said, “Wait, wait, wait. Rewind. Turn it up.”

“Fuck that, I’m turning this off, I don’t know what the fuck this shit is.”

“Dude, rewind. I heard the cameraman talking.”

Jake obliged and all three listened. There, as the gagged and diapered and terrified boy pleaded in his fucking crib–a crib!–a very familiar voice started narrating. “Beg all you want, boy. You ain’t going nowhere. You’re in diapers for good. Forever. Till the day you die which could be soon if you don’t be a good boy.”

More pleading.

“Gonna keep you diapered for good. No one knows where we keep this house. No one can hear you. You’re ours, boy. Diapered and our slave. Ready to be fucked? Want me to send this video to that cute girlfriend of yours? Bet she’d like seeing her baseball playing college boy in Pampers getting his face and pussy fucked, huh?”

More pleading.

“Yeah. But if you’re a good boy we let you go and you never tell anyone. Not that you will. You don’t know where we are and neither me or my partner will ever take our masks off, not even when you’re blowing us in your messy diapers.”

Crying now from the diapered man in the crib. Still silence from the trio of boys watching this wretched tape.

“We’ll treat you good if you act good. Make your clitty feel good. Let you squirt into your diapers. Forget about your girl, no more pussy. But you’ll get used to cumming in your diapers. And pissing your diapers. And shitting your diapers. And you’re going to get used to a lot of men having their way with you. Otherwise you’ll spend all your days right there. Cribbed. Bound. Gagged, Diapered. Get used to it.”

More crying.

Fade to black.

Now Jared and Michael turned to Jake.

“Jake? What the fuck? That was your dad talking! What the fuck, dude!”

Jake saw through the alcohol and finally spoke. “It’s just some fake thing, dad must have made like a porno when he was younger.”

“That sounds like him now!” Jared said. “And this isn’t a real porno! There’s no crew. It’s your dad. With a guy in diapers in a crib begging and pleading and your dad threatening him and telling him they’re going to fuck him. Dude.”

Jake loved his dad. Yeah the old man was a fuckup who couldn’t keep a job or a marriage but he was still Dad, right?

He ejected the tape. Put it back in the box.

“Let’s go the bar.”

“You want out? Too bad!”

My friends decided to leave me in my new toy while they went to the other room to play with legos (and the vibrator)

Tonight was a good night for me, won quite a bit, the others left not long ago, i was telling him I'd be getting ready myself too when he asked for one more game, i had woon most of his money, i could give him a chance to win it back. I still had time, so i told him that given my luck of today, chances were not looking good for him, he still insisted.

As predicted, he lost three hands in a row, betting big each time, sitting without any funds opposite of me at the table then. But he wanted to go on, one more, he asked, but having no money to bet i asked what he'd think on that, he did not know, but kept begging for one more game.

In the background his boy still struggled in the bouncer, i looked at that and grinned, looking at him then i told him about an option: I'd put in the amount of money he lost this evening, he'd bet time in the bouncer. If he won, we'd be done for tonight, if he lost, he'd have to spend every poker night, which we held every other weekend, the whole day in that bouncer the way he kept his boy usually. Since i was putting up 1500 bucks, 15 of those weekends it would have to be. He agreed without thinking.

Cards dealt, i had a great hand, a straight flush, eight to queen, no concern about that, i did the 'official' bet of the 1500 bucks, he thought a little, then said: 'I of course match that, but i want to raise, what would it take to get you perform an 'all in' with everything you won tonight?'

That was a surprise, i thought a little, cards exchanged, cards on the table, cards in my had, chances of loosing were extremely little, so i returned the question what he'd be willing to offer, knowing that chances will be high that he lost that again. But i also added a suggestion to it, maybe if we'd change the 15 planned 'days we play' into whole weekends, from arriving after work on Fridays to leaving for work Monday morning without interruption.

He turned and looked at his boy bouncing there like nothing was happening at all, then thought a little and returned: 'I really am certain this time i get lucky, so i go all the way. I place the prior agreed 15 poker-night days in the bouncer, but i raise to permanent poker night weekends in the bouncer in the way you suggested against all your money winnings AND 100 poker night weekends in the bouncer for YOU, starting with the remaining time of this weekend for the looser.' He also added that we would sign a mutual promissory note in the amount of 500,000, payable immediately upon refusal to comply with the agreed weekend penalties, so the looser could not refuse for sure, no matter what.

I asked if he was serious, i looked at my hand again, no way I'd be loosing, so i mentioned whether he is sure, permanent, he'd never participate on our games but every time, so every other weekend, be over there like his boy was, asked again if he was truly sure about that. But he did not even listen, typed the promissory note already on his mobile and after pushing the print , i heard the printer already. He presented the doc for our singing. I again asked if he was certain, it was clear to me that he'd loose that one, but he countered with a 'chickening out, now that your stake raised too?' Well, that did it for me, i accepted the bet and stakes and signed right then.

I laid out the straight flush i had with a major grin on my face, but when he placed his hand on the table, fuck… double fuck…. mega fuck…. he also had a straight flush, but 9 to king. He yelped out, somehow only then realizing he actually won, at the same time i sat there, could not believe with that hand i lost this one…

But after grabbing the money on the table and the document we signed, he grinned at me, then pointed at his boy in the bouncer, telling me: 'The weekend still goes on for a while, time to get you ready.'

I still could not believe, but there was also no doubt about 'paying up' the losses, in all the years we played that was at no time ever a doubt.

We went into their bedroom, he had me strip and said: 'Exactly as my boy is the deal, that means double of the thickest night diapers we have, with double inlays to boost capacity, onesie and sicks only on top of that, the pacifier head harness locked on, mittens locked on behind the back, in the bouncer. but it also includes what you do not see, the flat chastity cage and the dildo up his butt.

I did not know indeed, but did not say much about it either, 'as his boy' was the agreement, not 'almost as his boy'. I was definitely not looking forward to any of it, so was not at all horny, it did not take any troubles for him to lock another flat chastity cage on me, making me think about the troubles to come when i DO get hard again, which i did regularly during evenings and nights. The bigger issue was the dildo then, i wasn't a virgin, but the amount of times and sizes of tools back there were limited in the past, so it took quite some work to accommodate the one he had, about 1.75 inch diameter and 7 inch long, with a base simulating a ball sack also.

Doing it all the time, the diapering up was no trouble for him at all, getting those two diapers and inlays in place neat and snug, by that also forcibly preventing that dildo from fully sliding out. But when i got up to get that onesie on, i noticed, sitting would push that thing deeper into my butt again, moving around meant slightly moving that thing in and out also, I'd be fucking myself slightly then, feeling totally weird to me right then.

But after onesie and socks were on, we went over to the living room, his boy still innocently bouncing around, unaware of anything. He unlocked the mittens of his boy and released him from the bouncer, then also unlocked and removed the head harness with the pacifier in place, while he then cleaned that dummy a little, he sent his boy 'to bed'. That harness went on my head, with it the huge dummy into my mouth, he even added the brim cap his boy wore earlier then before it was time to get into that bouncer.

I followed his guidance on that and minutes later was actually handing in that thing, feet off the ground, my hands now also locked in those mittens on my back, and of course, with my wight on it, that dildo fully pushed up my butt now. He then took a little clip showing me off, all that was on, my helpless bouncing diapered, patting the thick padding ion front of that flat cock cage also, not that i felt much of that anyway, then he said:

'It is Saturday morning 2 am now, so you have the time until Monday morning 6am, enough time to get ready to go to work then, I'll fetch the clothes you need to go to work from your place during the weekend.

I'll send this clip to our poker buddies, telling them that you won't be able to attend the next 100 game nights, because this is how you spend each of those weekends without exception.

So let it sink in during the remaining weekend now, I'll be snuggling up to my boy for the night.'

“It’s simple. All you have to do is cum in your diaper. Cum in your diaper, and i’ll let you go.”

He growled and muffled something unintelligible through the ballgag. Probably a ‘fuck you’ or some other explicative, but still he he started wiggling his hips. Groaning in protest, but still swishing the ridiculous diaper back and forth. The labored, muffled breathing through the gag intensified. Soon, his groans turned to moans. They became more frequent and more desperate. Despite his predicament, he was still doing his best to finish the job. The springs creaked as his humping and driving of the diaper crescendoed, more desperate moans escaped his lips, then stopped abruptly. His legs started to spasm, and I could tell he was emptying his balls into that sodden pamper.

“Did you cum?” I asked, “Did you make a goo goo?”

He gave a disdainful grunt, deflated.

“Well that didn’t take long. You sure you’re not secretly enjoying yourself?”

He said nothing at that, remaining stockstill.

“Well…now you can sit in it with your shame.” I smiled. “Sorry, I had my fingers crossed the whole time. I guess you couldn’t see it because you’re huffing that huggie on your face!”

The bright lights of the streaming setup felt like a spotlight on my shame, every shadow a reminder of the small, padded cell that was now my prison. I shifted against the restraints, the medical straps digging into my skin, a futile attempt to escape the humiliating reality. I was dressed in this ridiculous blue onesie, a stark white diaper peeking out from beneath, and the cuffs on my arms and legs were a constant, chafing reminder of my captivity. My mouth was gagged, and I could only watch the taunting messages flood the chat as the camera zoomed in, my terror laid bare for all to see.

I glanced at the chat box, a tidal wave of cruel words washing over me – some mocked my predicament, some made lewd suggestions, a few even offered to “help” my tormentor. This wasn’t a game; this was my life, reduced to a public spectacle. I tried to yell, to scream, to do something, but the white ball in my mouth robbed me of my voice, and the straps held me firmly in place. This was her doing, this "Mistress," who had stolen my freedom and now was showing me off like a prize.

Meetings: have to look on top with these old schools guys. Pleased with my shirt and tie, at least. “London shirt, I guess” says one of them, allowing himself a smile appraising me. Then another.

I don’t remember quite how it went from there. The two of us had a drink after the second day of meetings. And yes the bar was old school. And I was impressed. And he invited me back to his small, discrete pied-a-terre. His “business meetings apartment”.

I’ve been tied before but this was the first time muzzled and strapped.

He smoothed the material of my shirt with his fingers. The straps somehow intensified the feeling of the fine cotton against my arms.

Once the jacket is on you, then I can take my time really putting you “in” the jacket. It takes a while, you see, for your muscles to grow tired, for the leather to slide around you and settle. I’ll want to tighten all of the straps, three, maybe four or five times. You’ll keep thinking it can’t go any further, that the thick padded leather has you fixed and frozen, but a few minutes later I’ll find a little slack, and pull the belts into the next notch or two.

It is so easy to control you once your arms and torso are completely out of commission. You won’t be able to turn the knobs on the doors, or stop me from pushing you around. Your hair will come off next. That’s the second step. It’ll only take a few belts to secure you to the chair. I’ll clipper off that long curly girly shit and shave the sides down to the skin. You will be confused as hell, angry and combative, maybe cursing at me…I’ll stay calm and in control. You’ll get used to my soothing voice, and in the end you’ll comply with all of my instructions. Deep down you know you want this.

The third step is the clincher. That’s when I slowly suck you off. Your brain won’t be able to process it. I’m a really good cocksucker, and you won’t be able to stop me. Any residual anger you might have will evaporate once I have your rock hard rod sliding up and down my throat. Any strength you had left from all the struggling will be spent when you orgasm. You’ll be a puddle, a weak and defeated worm. You will drift off to sleep in my arms because that is all you will be able to do.

“Dude! Dude I’m so sorry! I’m SO SORRY!” cried Patrick as Daddy held the naked nineteen year old by the back of his neck and led him to the dildo chair. The dildo chair was a large chair in the dungeon with a big hard dildo sticking out of the seat and leather straps for the boys wrists/ankles and chest. 

“PLEASE NO! PLEASE! FUCK YOU!” 

Daddy slapped Patrick hard, stunning the boy enough to start strapping him into the chair. The straight boy pulled at the restraints trying to keep himself from being impaled on the dildo. Daddy strapped the boy in tight though and quickly ball gagged him as well. And then with a push, Patrick’s virgin hole was filled with the hard dildo, causing Patrick to scream into his gag. The straps were now so tight that Patrick couldn’t move off the dildo if he tried, he was stuck. 

“Does that feel good, Patrick?” asked Daddy. 

“MPPMHPM!!!!!!!!” 

Daddy spat in the boy’s face. 

“This is what you get for being an egotistical straight teen. I’ve watched you, boy. Before capture, I watched you on campus, watched you be a bastard to so many people….because you thought you were hot shit. And I will say, you’re a very hot boy. But that doesn’t give you the right to treat people horribly. Daddy is going to put you in your place. And no matter how many times you say, I’m sorry, I won’t believe you. In fact, you will get no mercy from me” 

Patrick’s eyes were filling with tears. The dildo was so big in his ass! This man was a fucking freak! 

“Your punishment for your actions will be….to become my boy. And your training is going to be very very painful” 

Patrick’s eyes went wide. 

“That’s right boy….and by the end of your training, you will be an obedient, humble, toy for my cock” 

“MMMMMPPHMM!!!” This wasn’t happening, he wouldn’t become this man’s toy. He wouldn’t……fuck what the fuck is he holding - 

“Look at those pretty little pecs of yours, I think we need to clamp those nipples” Patrick tried to pull away, but Daddy eventually put two clamps on his nipples, joined by a chain that Daddy pulled….causing his nipples to ache. Patrick begged Daddy to take them off, but the words turned to mush in the ball gag, which was causing Patrick to drool all over his chest. His asshole was clenching against the thick dildo. 

“Now what next….ohh look at your sexy feet” Patrick shook his head wildly - don’t touch my feet! Get your fucking hands away from my feet! - but Daddy began caressing Patrick’s soles, running his hands up and down them. Patrick tried to pull his size ten feet away, but the ankle straps on the chair kept his legs firmly in place. 

“I think this is great time to lecture you on what you’ll be wearing as my toy. Now that you’re stripped of all those old clothes. You should know that Daddy’s boys have a uniform. Once your hole is opened up nice and large by this chair, we will dress you in white briefs. You will wear tighty whities every day, like a good boy. But the second part of the uniform is my favorite actually. Your feet will be dressed in nice white socks” 

Daddy went over to a chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of white low cut socks and put them on Patrick’s feet. Then to Patrick’s horror, Daddy leaned down and mouthed each foot, sniffing them deeply too. 

“You know what also offended me, besides your behavior, that you were wearing black ankle socks. Boys like you should be in white socks, like I just put on you. I think, as punishment for offending me by wearing those, your feet should be whipped. Oh you don’t like that, do you? Look at you struggle, you’re moving around too much..” 

Daddy took out two more straps and attached them to the chair, tying one around Patrick’s forehead to pull his head back and the other to Patrick’s neck as a collar. Daddy ran a hand through Patrick’s hair, petting him like a dog. He then took a riding crop from a nearby wall and began running it against Patrick’s feet. Holding each foot and then suddenly hitting the soles hard with the crop, over and over again. 

“MPMPMHHHHH!!!! PLEASE!” cried Patrick. His nipples ached from the clamps, his ass felt numb from the huge dildo and now his feet were being continually whipped. Even with the socks, the pain was ridiculous. 

“Oh you don’t like that. Let’s move to another part of your body” 

The riding crop moved to Patrick’s balls. 

“Such low hanging balls for a teenager. I wonder how much cum is in them. At nineteen, you’re at your sexual prime. That’s a good thing for Daddy’s boy, as you’ll be having sex a lot and being milked. I want you to know, that for the month that I’ve been watching you before capture, I saw every time you jerked off in your dorm. Every time, you pleasured yourself and came all over yourself like a whore” 

The riding crop hit Patrick’s balls hard and Daddy quickly pulled the nipple clamps off at the same time. Patrick screamed into the gag. 

“Close your legs, if you don‘t want me to hit your balls. Come on close your legs, slut. Oh you can’t, the straps are keeping your legs open. Too bad” 

Daddy continued hitting Patrick in the balls and then finally put the riding crop down, to Patrick’s relief. Daddy took out two leather mitts and fit Patrick’s hands in them. 

“I want you completely helpless, boy. No more hands for you” Patrick looked down at his now mitt-ed hands, they be no use in helping escape now. In fact, Patrick couldn’t think of a way to escape. But he wished with all his might, that he could find one because this man was going to put him through hell, he was already in so much - 

Daddy fitted a blindfold on Patrick and Patrick cried out  “No Please no!” through his gag. 

“Shhhh, you don’t need to see anything. As my boy, I will make all decisions for you. You don’t need to speak, move or see. I will do everything” 

Patrick was freaking out. Now he couldn’t even see what this sick fuck was going to do. A buzzing sound filled the dungeon and Patrick tried to beg for the blindfold to come off, but Daddy refused. Suddenly his cock was pressed up against something vibrating. A buzzing vibrator. 

“My boy needs to be hard at all times” 

“MMMMMPHMM!” 

“Gotta get that young cock hard and cumming. How much can you cum? At nineteen, I bet you can cum over and over again. I’m gonna make you produce so much cum. I’m gonna make you drink it. I’M gonna drink it. And when you think you can’t cum anymore, I’m gonna make you cum again. Gotta milk you like a cow”

“MMMPHMM!!” 

“Ohhhh you’re already getting hard. Good boy” 

Patrick had tears streaming down his face, past the blindfold. His cock now rock hard against the vibrator. His asshole clenching against the dildo constantly. Drool came dripping down his chest from the ball gag. His body was shaking. “Do not cum for this man’ Patrick thought. “Do not cum” And yet….

“OHHHH you ready to cum? Let Daddy have a taste”

Patrick came and almost immediately felt Daddy’s mouth on his cock, as he came into the man’s mouth. Patrick felt so humiliated, as his cock ejaculated onto Daddy’s tongue. Moments later, Daddy took the straps off the chair and pulled Patrick by the hair, off the chair. His ass popping after being released from the dildo. Patrick could barely stand after the chair, and even if he could, the blindfold made it impossible to see where he was going. Daddy kept a firm grasp of the boy’s hair and dragged him across the dungeon. He was thrown on a bed, his arms chained to the headboard. Daddy spread the boy’s legs and quickly entered Patrick’s ass, fucking his virgin straight hole.