“Look, you just…you need to leave, alright? You need to leave, and just don’t come back,” Nate hissed through the screen door of the double wide at his friend Blake outside. His neck was craned from the side, in an obvious effort to keep Blake from seeing his body–but from what he could see, Nate didn’t seem to have on a shirt.
“Dude, seriously? Is this because of what happened yesterday? Look, I…I ain’t gonna tell anyone man, it’s…it’s cool.”
“It’s not fucking cool–look, you gotta go, before…” Nate looked over his shoulder, “…before he wakes up. Just go, alright? I’ll…I can’t explain, ok? Just leave.” He shut the door in Blake’s face–firmly, but also quietly.
What had happened the day before, which neither of them wanted to talk about, was a bit of roughhousing while they had been cutting through one of Mr. Hawthorne’s tilled fields, muddy from the rain. Nate had started it, shoving Blake into the mud, but when Blake had tried to grab him and drag him in too, he’d only succeeded in yanking down Nate’s jeans–revealing underneath what could only be a heavily padded diaper. Nate had frozen, completely red in the face, and yanked up his baggy jeans before hightailing it away as fast as he could. Blake had tried to keep up, but the mud slowed him enough that Nate had too much of a lead to be caught, so he’d come by Nate’s house, where he lived with his grandfather, to try and smooth things over–but it looked like all he’d done was inflame things further.
Still, he wasn’t going to give up. He didn’t care if Nate had some…problems or whatever. They were still friends. He pulled open the screen and started knocking at the door, louder this time. Nate told him to go away through the door; Blake knocked harder, until he heard a low grumbling and the door swung open, revealing Nate’s grandfather. He was in his early sixties, most likely, and looked like he’d just woken up from a nap, from the boxers and wifebeater he had stretched over his fat body. The oddest thing, however, was a gaudy necklace the older man had around his fat neck, draped down on his chest. “Who the hell are you?”
Now Blake had never met Nate’s grandfather, and Nate had never told him much about him. He’d only learned where Nate lived because they took the same road home from school, and Nate’s trailer park came before Blake’s. “My name’s…Blake. I’m one of Nate’s friends.”
Nate’s Grandfather looked at Nate behind him, who was doing everything he could to avoid his gaze. “This the frienda yer’s ya told me ‘bout?”
Nate nodded.
“Get in here,” he said to Blake, and stepped away from the door. Blake tentatively stepped up into the house, where he found the reason Nate had been hiding his body–all he had on was a diaper and some strange object on a chain around his neck…and from the smell of the place, he seemed to have already used it. “Follow me,” he said, and Blake did, only realizing after a few moments that he wasn’t following him because he wanted to…but because he couldn’t quite stop himself, for some reason.
He looked to Nate, but Nate just whispered under his breath, “I told you to leave…I’m sorry…”
“Quiet boy–suck on your damn binky and entertain yourself–I don’t want to hear a peep from you until I need your mouth.”
The object around Nate’s neck appeared, now that Blake was closer, to be a small butt plug. Obediently, his friend took it and put it in his mouth, where he started sucking on it, face bright red. Then, after a few moments, it was like the life in his eyes receded; they grew glassy and Nate began to wobble, before toppling over onto his diapered ass. Much to Blake’s horror, he watched as his friend rubbed the front of his diaper, almost like he was planning on masturbating into it, but before he could watch further, Grandpa’s large hand wrapped its way around his wrist, and pulled him into the kitchen.
“Let me go!” he said, and tried to yank himself away, but a strange glow deep in the necklace’s large gem caught his eye, and he felt like he was being sucked into it, and he could hear…hear something, or maybe just feel it. Something like… “No control. No control. Weak. No control. Can’t stop it. Can’t control it,” a mantra repeating in his mind until the necklace dimmed. He tried to yank his hand away again, but even though he was big for his eighteen years, even though he was on the football team, he suddenly felt very very small beside this big man, and as hard as he yanked, there was nothing he could do to break the old man’s grip. The terror set in. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t…couldn’t control it…and he felt his crotch suddenly become warm as his bladder released, soaking his jeans, running down one leg and into his shoe and onto the tile floor. He looked up at the old man, and he was leering down at him, licking his lips, like he was on the verge of laughing.
“I thought I would be satisfied with one little diaper boy, but why stop there? And Lil’ Natey brought such a big friend along too–you’re gonna be such good brothers,” Grandpa said, his hands running over Blake’s shaking body. He wanted to do something, anything, but he was frozen in place, unable to even slow the flow of piss from his bladder until it had fully emptied itself onto the floor. “Don’t worry, you’ll be happy here with Grandpa, I’ll make sure of it.” The necklace began to glow again, even brighter this time, and Blake felt the light wash over him, pulling him into his new Grandpa’s sick, twisted fantasy.
Bracken's Corner 