A Thirsty Refuge

I’m such a pathetic diaper boy..

Nothing better than a pair of big juicy himbo tits, i’m telling you bro, you need to get a pair too.

-personal benji post-

“Coach!” he came running into my office, “this is it, it’s so tight, they’ll  see everything!”

“it’s designed to support you, make it so the judges can tell your not cheating, and decrease drag, everyone will be wearing them”

“ya but not all of them will be wearing a  black jock strap will they?!”

“I mean you could go without, but t hen that cock cage will be rather obvious” I said with a wicked smile.

James turning bright red, “how did you know!”

“I’ll make you a deal, you place, and I’ll have Justin give you the key”

I thought losing my job was going to be the worst thing that ever happened to me. For weeks, going on months, I was worried about not making money, and not being able to pay my bills. Meanwhile, I was getting rejected for job after job that I had applied for. And then I got an email saying that my application for being a go-go dancer been approved.

At first, of course, I assumed that it was just spam. Anyhow, I was certain that I hadn’t applied for the job of a go-go dancer. In fact, the thought of it was just plain ridiculous! Imagine me, a shy, forty-year-old unemployed computer programmer with the flabby physique of someone who had spent the last twenty years sitting at a desk, dancing up on some stage in some club, shaking my ass for the crowd. Ha! No way.

Well, I clicked on the email anyhow. It would be good for a laugh, I figured. But as soon as I clicked it, that was when I noticed the first change. My hair. I felt a cool rush of air as the sides and back of my head were suddenly shaved clean, leaving just an edgy, jet-black mohawk up top. It felt weird, but it also felt right. I was feeling like I needed a change, and maybe a new hairstyle was what I needed after all.

I scrolled down through the email. There was information about the address of the club, when I was expected to be there, how to access the building through the stage entrance in the back alley, what to wear, what was allowed and not allowed in my dancing. And the further down I scrolled, the more and more I changed.

As I sat in my chair, my muscles were gradually growing underneath my skin, becoming big and rippling, and giving me a distinctly musclebound look. Even my skin itself was changing. It was getting younger, I realized. It was becoming smooth and elastic and blemish-free, and washed all over with a golden glow. Combined with my new muscles, it gave me the appearance of a young stud in his prime.

I guess I should have been more concerned about the changes, in retrospect. But they were happening so smoothly, and so naturally, that it just felt right. There was no need to worry any more about not being able to find a job, about not being able to pay the bills. With a body like this, I knew I’d be bringing in hundreds of dollars in easy money every night.

I reached the bottom of the email and there was a link asking for me to click “Yes” or “No” to accepting the position. I clicked “Yes,” without hesitation, and that was when my face changed. I was given the dark features of a Latino stud. Deep brown eyes, thick, brooding eyebrows, full lips, a square jaw with a dimple. I looked like a walking sex dream. And there was one final change, perhaps my favorite change of them all.

That night, I showed up to the club at the time that had been specified in the email. They gave me a locker to put my things in and handed me a tiny black speedo, which was to serve as my “uniform” for the evening. Then they pointed me towards the stage and told me to dance. And I danced! I danced like I have never danced before. It was like my body was magically moving on its own accord, expertly twisting and turning and thrusting under the flashing lights of the club in perfect rhythm with the music. It was electrifying.

The first thing he noticed was that he couldn’t move.

And then he heard his girlfriend’s voice.

“Does this feel familiar?” she taunted.

He tried to speak up, but all that escaped was drool and a garbled noise.

“Aww poor baby, you can’t speak can you?” His girlfriend’s voice was laced with sweetness. But he was feeling anything but sweet at this moment.

He had made a critical error in his thinking. Just the other night his girlfriend had asked him if he had any kinks and he’d said no, deciding now was not the time to reveal his diaper fetish. He was scared that she’d recoil, move backwards or even break up with him.

But it turns out she had asked him because she knew.  

She knew he wanted to be a helpless drooling baby. Wanted to become her plaything. Forced to sit in his bulging diaper until “mommy” came to change him.

“I guess you didn’t think I’d find out did you?” She sat on the bed next to him and patted the front of his bulging diaper. Strangely enough, he hadn’t remembered wetting it. But then she explained it to him.

“Last night I put a pill in your post workout shake. It reduces your body to that of an infant. No control over your legs, arms, anything really.” She continued to pat the front his his heavy diaper as he tried to sit up, get any motion in his arms and legs. “The pill lasts 24 hours. And then all function returns. Oh and you can forget about bowel and bladder control.” She giggled.

“When I found out you wanted to be mommy’s helpless drooling baby, I decided to help you along for a bit. Now you can know what it’s really like.”

He tried to speak. Tried to tell her that this isn’t what he wanted. That it was only a game, a fetish. Something to do for fun. But he couldn’t speak, only drool escaped his mouth.

“Because you wanted this so badly, I put three pills in your drink, so that should give you about three days of fun baby time. Don’t worry, I know this weekend you wanted to hang out with the guys, but I know you’d much rather be doing this instead. So just lie there, I’ll bring you a new bottle every hour. Who knows..” she said grinning before shutting the door. “There might be another pill in there at the end of the weekend. I might want you to be my baby forever…”