paddedlittleparadise:I want that. I need that in my life. Damn, that must be something: no control,
paddedlittleparadise:I want that. I need that in my life. Damn, that must be something: no control, no escape…My careless, inebriated words are back to haunt me: words I slurred out last week as Jake and I tittered together over the webpage featuring a bound and gagged young female kneeling before her leather-clad master. But it’s only now, as I raise my head and begin to glimpse the full extent of my predicament, that it actually hits me. Oh, god. He really took me seriously, didn’t me?I writhe inelegantly in place, but my cuffed wrists are brought up short with a jerk. They’re not going anywhere, clearly. Nor are my feet, no matter how I flail them; for to judge my the tugging and jangling, they must be cuffed fast just like my wrists. Nuts.I cast a wide-eyed glance downward, down over my nearly nude body. What the hell am I even wearing? It’s blue and plasticky looking, oddly reminiscent of- No, wait- it can’t be- is it really… Oh, yes, it is. I force my brain to say the word. Diaper? Yes, diaper. I need to say it, to enunciate those two humiliating syllables. Maybe if I can name it, I can find the courage to face it, to maybe even laugh it off…And then I find that I can’t speak, either.Of course I can’t see what the gag actually is. But I’ve babysat before. I know what a pacifier looks like. And while it’s entirely possible that my spinning brain is jumping wildly to conclusions, it also seems equally clear that the rubbery bulb I now feel lodged firmly within my mouth can be nothing less than a pacifier.A dummy. A binkie. The one thing that, together with a diaper, represents the epitome of babyhood.Pacified or not, a gurgling squeal of surprise escapes me as a deep voice whispers suddenly in my ear. “Hey, babe. Or should I say, baby?” It’s Jake, and he’s chuckling as if he’s just made the best joke of the year. “Hey, sorry I didn’t wake you before I left. You were passed out, and I really had to get to work…” I whimper and jangle my cuffs, desperate to find some way to communicate my displeasure to him. But he remains nothing more than a voice in my brain, a ghost inhabiting the wireless earbud jammed into my ear…“I know you said you wanted a bit of kinky fun,” Jake is chortling. “So I thought, heck, why not? I mean, you’ll be just fine there until I get home. Can’t hurt yourself, can’t get into trouble. And look - I even made sure that you won’t ruin the mattress once you finally piss yourself!”Jake, you ass- You bastard- I want to scream, but the bulb within my mouth turns each articulate protest into the brainless gurgling and babble of an infant. Even I must admit that it’s pathetic, and the laughter that sounds in my ear is hardly surprising.“Well, have fun, babe! Don’t worry; I’ll be keeping an eye on you for sure,” he continues, his voice dropping into a growl. “And I guess you probably don’t care, but… I might have accidentally given Luke and a couple of the other guys this webcam link. So listen: if you want to give us all a good show, I recommend struggling and moaning a bit more. You know, just like a kinky little bitch should…”I’m choking on my rage and sobs, though it probably sounds for all the world like the peevish complaints of a spoiled toddler who needs a change. Sure, I liked the idea of losing a bit of control. Those kinky photos were kind of hot, after all. But only now was I beginning to sense the drastic difference between steamy fantasy and cold, unyielding reality.Image Credit: ABDreams.comPlease don’t remove my caption! As long as you don’t, may you actually be able to keep that New Year’s resolution… for once. -- source link