all4thedips: paddedlittleparadise: “Let’s see. Now for some oatmeal… and some flo
all4thedips: paddedlittleparadise: “Let’s see. Now for some oatmeal… and some flour too. Whole wheat, for my baby’s fiber cookies.” Mommy spoke absently as she glanced down at her shopping list. “Doesn’t that sound yummy, honey?” Oh, she was just rubbing it in now. Of course she knew she wouldn’t get an answer out of me. I drew in a sharp intake of breath, swallowing uncomfortably around the bulky, desiccating wad of cotton diaper fabric that filled my mouth. Even if I tried shouting my pent-up protests, all that would escape was a meek little murmur - scarcely even a moan. Believe me, I’d tried while we were in the car. But Mommy knew far too well how to gag a sub like me. I’d given her plenty of practice, after all. And so, what with our quarantine-induced bored and the sudden shift to face masks, it hadn’t been long before she’d dreamed up a sadistic, yet completely discreet new way to humiliate me… I stared mutely back at her over the dark cloth mask that concealed my lower face. That was the key, you see; my poor gaping mouth could be jammed full of pretty much anything Mommy saw fit to insert. For once she tied that all-concealing mask over my face, literally no one was the wiser. It was just our dirty little secret, and no one else. Just like… the other things. The other little secrets also hidden away on my person at this very moment. Mommy smiled brightly back at me as she hefted two bags of flour into the cart. “What, don’t you think that sounds yummy?” I nodded grudgingly, trying to glare in resentment even as I felt my subby little self melting with the delicious humiliation. “Good! Now, let’s see - we need lots more dried fruit to keep my little one regular…” And into the cart went a large bag of prunes and another of dried apricots, alongside the oatmeal and flaxseed. Uh oh, she really did seem to have a very messy week in store for me, didn’t she? Normally I would have protested, whining quietly like a bratty toddler for her to stop being so mean. But now, with this humiliating, yet strangely invisible gag stopping my mouth, all I could do was waddle behind, silently acquiescing to my own impending humiliation… Oh, yes - waddle was the word for it. I winced as I felt my caged member vainly attempting to stiffen as I contemplated my predicament: stuff-gagged under my mask, thickly double-diapered under my jeans, and locked away to boot. And yet all this was happening in plain sight of perfectly ordinary, vanilla people. That was what made discreet humiliation so hot, I mused, even as I heaved a muffled little sigh and let another stream of pee flood out into the already soggy padding around my nether regions. I was bound and gagged almost as thoroughly as if I were chained in some leather-clad dominatrix’s dungeon, and yet none of these sweet little old ladies or store clerks had the slightest idea… At least, so I hoped as I gamely followed Mommy toward the paper goods and medicine aisles. Double PeekABUs weren’t exactly the most discreet things, even if I did have my hoodie around my waist… Oh, no. Here came the diaper aisle - the haunt of my wildest fantasies when I was growing up, of course, though today I knew full well that Mommy would never venture to try something as flimsy as Goodnites or Depends on me, her “little fire hydrant”. But wait - why was she stopping? “My baby wets so much!” she complained good-naturedly - and far more loudly than I was comfortable with - as she lifted a large pack of size 6 overnight Huggies into the cart. “I just hope these will do the trick.” Oh, my. We both knew a great deal about baby diapers and what good stuffers they made… and I also knew without her saying that I’d be busy this afternoon, perforating every single one of them with my own Wartenburg Wheel, readying them for use in my own already bulky diapers… “And while we’re here…” she paused and consulted her list before turning to the rows of medicines behind her. “I really don’t want him to get plugged up.” My cheeks reddened as she winked at me and tossed a box of Ex-Lax and a jar of Metamucil in atop the Huggies. I could see it all coming. There would be such sweet condescension in her tone as she would fill my mouth once more - not with gags or pacifiers, but with spoon after spoon of laxative-laced oatmeal forced between my unwilling lips. I would squirm in my restraints and gurgle my ineffectual protests, but she would laugh and merrily keep tormenting me with her “kindness”. And no matter how hard I would try, she would win - and I, in my humiliatingly sodden, filthy diapers, would lose… so terribly, wonderfully badly. For even as another flood of urine warmed my padded groin and I stared, blushing and mute, into Mommy’s dancing eyes, I knew deep down that I wouldn’t change my current situation for the world. I was Mommy’s plaything. I needed this, just as she needed me. And so, I nodded, mute and obedient - just the way I was meant to be. @paddedlittleparadise - Great job capturing the shame and desire that often coexist and feed off each other to such wonderful results. I particularly enjoyed this line: “And no matter how hard I would try, she would win - and I, in my humiliatingly sodden, filthy diapers, would lose… so terribly, wonderfully badly.“ -- source link