| Title:
| Humiliation
|
| Name:
| Nathan
|
| Email:
| Not given
|
| Gender:
| Male
|
| Current Age:
| 17
|
| Posting Date:
| 10/18/09
|
| Story Contents:
|
| A- Post-toddler (4-8)* | | R- Sisters, other girls* |
| | B- Pre-teen (9-12)* | | S- Babysitters | ●
| | C- Teen (13-17) | ● | T- Masturbation | ●
| | D- Adult (18+) | | U- Sexual situations | ●
| | E- Cloth diapers* | | V- Gay |
| | F- Disposable diapers | ● | W- Erections | ●
| | G- Pee | ● | X- Bedwetting |
| | H- Poop* | ● | Y- Accidents |
| | I- Exposed diapers/pantslessness* | ● | Z- Punishment/Diaper Discipline | ●
| | J- Multiple diapers* | ● | 1- Female Domination* | ●
| | K- Baby paraphernalia | ● | 2- Enemas |
| | L- Mother | ● | 3- Restraints | ●
| | M- Father | | 4- Crying | ●
| | N- Aunt | | 5- Spanking | ●
| | O- Uncle | | 6- Humiliation | ●
| | P- Brothers (diapered) | | 7- Babying |
| | Q- Brothers (not diapered) | | 8- Regression |
| | *Denotes Deekerian story elements
|
|
| Summary:
|
|
| Deekerian Score (20 is max.)
[?]:
|
8 (40%)
|
"How dare you!"
My mother had just found me at the computer. CAUGHT is actually a
better term. Naked women were dancing on the screen, and my hand was
visibly stuck down my pants. Unfortunately, my family is very old-
fashioned about these kinds of things, hence my mother's enraged
response to finding me.
"Mom, you weren't supposed to be home for another hour!" I cried.
Instead of responding, she took me by my shirt and dragged me into her
room.
"Take off all your clothes and put them on the floor! You're already in
serious trouble, so don't try anything stupid or else!" With that, she
left. I heard her car starting and heard her pulling out of the
driveway, though where she was going I hadn't a clue. I hurriedly took
off my clothes.
Okay, maybe there's some more explaining to do. I'm Josh, a fourteen-
year-old boy just going through what all other fourteen-year-old boys
are with the catch of an insane mother. Despite doing well in school
and sports, volunteering, and helping around the house, she thinks that
my masturbation shows I'm an irresponsible little boy.
Oh, man, did I call THAT. I heard her come back into the driveway and
into the house, finally back into the bedroom, carrying a large package
of equally large diapers. I truly wanted to move, but I was frozen in
horror.
"You're grounded, so it doesn't matter if you wear these; your friends
won't see," she said, scorning a tone of comfort. "Hopefully they'll be
snug enough that you won't be able to stick your hand in there and do
the Devil's work."
When she demanded that I lay down on the bed, I was so close to nervous
collapse that I didn't hesitate or disobey; the same held true when she
told me to lift up my legs. She slid the diaper under and drew it up
between my legs, taping the diaper snugly against my body. I remembered
thinking that this wouldn't be so bad were it not a diaper. I tried to
get up, but she pushed me down again, pulling out two more diapers and
taping them similarly. She then let me go to play.
After a while on my computer, I felt the definite need to pee. I got up
and walked to the bathroom door to find it locked. I rushed to the
other one to find a similar lock on that door. My mom saw me and
reminded me that bathrooms are for grown-ups, not babies. In horror, I
tried to hold it in, but I already had for quite some time and it came
flooding out. Again, it would've been pleasant had it not been for the
fact that I had just soiled myself. I squished over to my mom for a
change only to hear her say "You've got three diapers on for a reason."
Over the next week, life followed a regular pattern: I would wake up,
get changed, eat breakfast, entertain myself, go to lunch, get changed
again, more entertaining myself, dinner, entertain myself for a little
more, then get changed once more before bed. It was normal except I
didn't go to the bathroom to relieve myself, I was changed, and I
couldn't have friends over. I began to think this wouldn't be too bad.
My mother didn't bother me too much, as she was on the computer a lot
more than usual. Life was okay.
However, at the end of the week a UPS van came, and I was told to wait
in my mother's room. I sat there, already wet and messy from the day's
activities, wanting to be changed so that I could play some more. After
I was allowed entry into the room, I wet myself again, this time out of
shock. My room was no longer my room: it was a nursery. Diapered teddy
bears with rattles adorned the walls, there was a giant crib where my
bed used to be, and a changing table next to my desk. My closet was
devoid of jackets and shirts, instead being filled with onesies and
footed sleepers, as well as stacks of diapers. My dresser was similarly
emptied of normal clothes, carrying only toddler's pants, overalls, and
shirts with sayings like "I'm a diaper boy!" on them. I was again
horrified to the point of obedience when my mom told me to get into a
sleeper. I noticed the sleeves ended in thick mittens that wouldn't
allow me anything but minimal control of my fingers. She then stuck a
pacifier into my mouth, strapping it around my head so that I couldn't
spit it out. Life had officially become hell.
The next month was much worse than the previous week. I looked like a
baby and often had to act like a baby when my mom put me in the playpen
with all the baby toys. All that time she had been online she had been
buying this stuff. I was completely babied, and my only consolation was
that she had to leave for a week long conference at the end of the
month, and I would be left alone.
My thinking was twisted on the matter. She hired a babysitter, the
worst babysitter. This babysitter was the prettiest girl in my class.
She came in being given instructions on how to take care of me and how
to humiliate me as much as possible. My life had reached an all time
low.
For the first few days, she treated me as my mom had demanded, spanking
me when I disobeyed, changing me, and not letting me out of my baby
clothes or diapers for any time. However, she had put me down for a nap
one day when she looked in the closet and took some diapers. She
diapered herself up and woke me up. I was extremely surprised, and
despite the fact that she still had to babysit, she treated me better
as we shared the diaper experience together.
The final night she put me in my crib and walked out. I heard her car
start outside before I fell helplessly asleep, for, though I didn't
know it, she had put sleeping pills in my drink at dinner. I woke up
suddenly at 2 AM. I tried to roll over and fall back asleep to find my
wrists and ankles had been tied to the bars of the crib. My legs were
spread out wide, which prevented me from stopping any urine that could
come out by crossing my legs. I looked up to find that she was kneeling
in the crib as well, straddling my diapered waist. Her shirt was off,
and she started rubbing my crotch. An erection began to grow.
"No," I said, and though I tried to tell her the trouble I would be in
if my mom found out, which she would if I came in my diaper, she simply
put a pacifier in my mouth and strapped it around my head. She started
to rub her diapered crotch against mine. In my diapers, the erection
intensified, She stroked harder, slowly increasing speed. Though my
body was tingling with pleasure, my mind was horrified at the possible
repercussions. She kept stroking and stroking with her diaper. I tried
to hold back the inevitable, but my body was fully out of my control.
An explosion went off in my diaper as I climaxed, and I groaned. She
stepped out of the crib, and I drifted helplessly back to sleep.
I woke up to find my mom changing me. She had removed the second of
three diapers. I braced myself as she untaped the last one, knowing
what she would find...