M/L

It took what felt like hours, but you eventually settled into a restless sleep. The hazy sunlight of the early morning filtered in through your blinds as you laid in bed. You felt exhausted, sore from being unable to pull your arms into a more comfortable position.

You dreaded seeing Tyler. The big man obviously had some problems, coming into your house, tying you up, and behaving like you were a little boy. And you had another problem.

Your bladder was uncomfortably full and if you weren’t able to get up soon, you were going to ruin your sheets.

The room was silent, save for your heavy breathing, until the soft click of boots approached. Tyler entered the rom, soft smile on his face. He was still dressed in a black compression shirt and gray cargo pants, whether the same outfit from last night or something fresh, you couldn’t tell.

His large hand moved to your thigh, rubbing small circles. “Morning, baby. How’d daddy’s little boy sleep?”

You glared at him, attempting to kick him again. He gave a sharp slap where circles had just been rubbed, “No, no. Good boys don’t kick daddy.”

Tyler moved to the headboard and your heart soared. He unclipped the gloves from the headboard, allowing you to stretch your arms. You expected him to remove the gloves too, or at least the gag, but they stayed.

His hands moved under your legs and he lifted you with minimal effort. You kicked your legs as they dangled in the air, but you were quickly pulled towards the large man. He pulled you against his chest, bridal style. You winced, bladder jostling painfully.

He walked out of the room and your heart began to race, especially as he descended the stairs. You froze as he made to walk towards the front door, but made a sudden turn for the kitchen.

He placed you down in one of the kitchen chairs, giving your tummy a small tickle in the process. You couldn’t help but leg out a little giggle, but gasped as soon as he stopped, hands pressing against your crotch.

He undid the strap around the back of your head, pulling the pacifier out of your mouth with a small _pop. _Before you could think, a spoon of applesauce quickly entered your parted lips before you could close them.

You swallowed, but shut your mouth tightly, turning your head away from the spoon bouncing against your lips. You gasped as your nose was pinched tightly, and the spoon entered your mouth without permission.

You continued gasping for air, unable to get any with the continued spoonfuls of applesauce entering your mouth. Finally, the last spoonful was swallowed, and you took in great, greedy gasps of air.

Tyler had disappeared for a second to throw the applesauce container away. He returned a moment later with a wet paper towel and a baby bottle.

You tried to bat his hands away with your blue gloves, but immediately moved them back to pressing against your crotch. He wiped your face clean, pressing gentle kisses down your jawline when finished. Then, he held up the water-filled baby bottle.

Again, you tightened your lips, not even wanting to open them to tell him “No.” There was no way you could drink any water.

He grabbed your hair, pulling it roughly. “Ow!” You cried, but the nipple was already in your mouth. He grabbed your throat, preventing you from jerking your head and his large hand squeezed the bottle. You had **** but to drink the water, or else you’d ****.

You began sucking on the nipple, **** to get out of his grip to pee. “Good, boy,” he stroked your hair. You continued sucking until only air came through. Only then did Tyler pull the bottle away.

“No!” You cried, pressing your mitted hands firmly to your crotch. But it was too late. All you could do was watch as a puddle formed in your chair, and then dripped down to the floor.

You sniffled, not able to look up. You felt him staring down at you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes. He grabbed your chin and roughly jerked it up. Those piercing blue eyes were colder than ice.

He unfastened the mittens and threw them at you. They were covered in your own urine. “Clean this mess up,” he barked.

You scrambled to your feet, clutching the wet mittens against your naked body. You hurried to the laundry room, tossing them in the washing machine, before grabbing the mop and some Clorox wipes. Hurrying back to the kitchen, you set the mop down, opening the package of wipes.

You attempted to clean off the chair, but all of the liquid was pushed to the floor, splashing everywhere. You closed your eyes, disgusted as the feel of piss. You picked up the mop when the puddle on the chair had merged with the one on the floor, and soon, all that was left was a wet spot from the mop solution.

You hurried back to the laundry room, putting the mop and Clorox wipes in their respective places before tentatively heading back to the kitchen. Tyler stood with his arms crossed waiting for you.

“Come here.” You obeyed, looking up at his tall frame. He gave you a small push and suddenly, you were leaning over the dining table. You glanced back behind you, confused, until you felt stinging smacks rain down on your wet ass.

You tried to cover yourself with your hands, but they were effortlessly pinned to your back with one hand while the other continued its **** on your backside.

When he was done, you were a sobbing mess, laying limply over the side of the table. He scooped you up, cradling you as he made his way back up the stairs. You heard running water as he bounced you up and down.

He placed you down on the floor, spreading your legs with one hand. You gasped as he used a soft cloth to gently clean your balls and penis, even under your foreskin.

You wiped your eyes, trying to get the tear tracks off your face. He finished cleaning you, before scooping you up and placing you into shallow bath water. He gently washed your hair, pouring warm water over your head and shielding your eyes, massaging shampoo into your scalp. He rinsed it with a cup of water, fingers over your eyes. Next, a gentle cloth scrubbed small circles all over your body covering you in a white foam. You closed your eyes, savoring the gentleness that he was displaying in the moment.

When all the suds were rinsed, Tyler pulled the plug, lifting you out of the water and into a clean towel. He carried you to your room, laying you out on the bed. The muscled man patted you dry with the towel you were on, and you let yourself be pampered for a moment.

You jerked when you felt your hand being **** into something. You glanced over, finding Tyler wrapping a white mitten around your hand, then clipping it to the head board. You tried to pull it off, but your other wrist was grabbed and your hand was shoved into an equally soft mitten and clipped behind you.

“What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

He grabbed your ankle now, securing a white strap around it. You tried to kick him, but quickly stopped at the warning spank he gave to our thigh.

“I haven’t had a client that was this into role play for quite a while, this is fun.”

“What?!”

He chuckled, as he secured the final strap tightly around your ankle, before reaching into his duffle bag and pulling out a white bar.

“Wait, no!” You exclaimed as you realized that the spreader bar was meant for you.

Tyler didn’t listen as he clipped the straps to the bar, forcing your legs uncomfortably apart. “There we go,” he cooed. “That’s much better, isn’t it.”

You were scared for what he was going to do to you. This man was clearly deranged.

He rummaged around in his bag some more, before pulling out a bottle of baby powder and a thick square. You stared, horrified, but unable to move as he approached you. He grabbed the bar with one hand, lifting your legs with it. You felt baby powder puffed onto your ass before the red thing was placed down onto something large and padded.

“What is wrong with you?!” You exclaimed as he began dusting baby powder on your dick.

“Shhh, daddy knows best, baby.”

He pulled the diaper in between your legs, stretching the tabs until he was satisfied that it was secure. You glanced down, once he was finished, outraged at the white prison. You didn’t know what offended you more, the thick padding, or the dashed blue line.