Requested by Anonymous

Something strange had been happening around Wellsprings Senior Living Center lately, where Burt was a resident. He hadn’t thought much of it at first, when the first couple of his friends suddenly traded their golf polos and khakis for leather jackets, harnesses and rubber. It had been…different, sure, but for some reason it hadn’t alarmed him–even when these happily married men–some for fifty years–announced they had kicked their wives out and were divorcing them. Then, when he’d gotten the knock on his door that evening, and been greeted by a flash from that strange gun Mr. Lingleton had in his gloved hand, everything made more sense.

Burt had a bit of a secret, you see–he’d lost consistent control of his bladder a few years back, and had been wearing diapers ever since he’d gotten tired of wetting himself on accident. He hadn’t let anyone know–he had always been so embarrassed by his lack of self-control–but he didn’t have to worry about that now. He fell to his knees in his rubber waders, his cock spewing a massive load of piss across the carpet at the threshold of his apartment, as Mr. Lingleton hauled out his cock and showered Burt with piss from head to toe, and then left the old man to suck whatever he could from the carpet, before retreating back inside.

From that day on, he simply pissed wherever he stood–often while wearing his yellow rubber chest waders–and when he got back to his apartment he’d drink all it down–adding it to all the other piss he’d been drinking from the men who lived in the complex all day long. He’d been a bit worried when his son and grandson came to visit a couple of weeks later, but once they were in his apartment, both of them began changing as well. His grandson lost control of himself as well, almost immediately, and his father wasted no time forcing the protesting boy into his grandfather’s diapers, disciplining him sternly when he tried to run and get help. Burt just watched his middle aged son grow and expand into a massive, heavily tattooed leather daddy bear–and once his grandson was pacified and diapered like a good baby bear, his son bent Burt over the sofa and gave him a proper plowing–and afterwards gave his father a load of piss to share with his grandson.

Paid Vacation (Part 3)

***WARNING*** Still nasty.

For the first week, Ian was able to trick himself into believing that the programming was having no effect on him. He would fight and resist as much as he could, when he was awake, but the fact remained that there was very little he could do to prevent anything from happening to him. He focused his efforts on Rick, trying to get his coworker to see how fucked up this was, but Rick would just smile and shake his head, “I…I used to think like that too, you know. But don’t worry, you’ll understand here soon. You’re going to be so happy, just like me, just like we all are. I…I just want you to be happy, baby–here. let me make you feel good…” he said, and rubbed another load out for Ian, before leaving for the night. Rick was the only person he saw, after that first day, and after about six days, he’d started to loose hope that he’d escape. Still, he only had to hold out for a month, right? That’s how long his vacation was at least. If he could just hang on that long, if the programming didn’t work, then maybe…maybe they’d just let him go! He had a strong will, he could do this!

Then, slowly, he found himself enjoying what was happening to him. Enjoying the feedings, finding himself sucking down as much of the slop as he could, eager to fill himself up so…so he could shit more. So he fill his diaper to bursting. He tried to push the thoughts away, but they persisted, growing louder and louder in his mind. Still, he knew they were intruders, and even as they gained volume, he fought them, trying to work on Rick, trying to make him see that this was wrong. But my the middle of the week, he’d noticed something new–that whenever he tried to talk, the only thing that would come out sounded…immature and childish, using small words, or nonsense words. Even in his mind, he found himself using ‘poo-poo’, ‘pee’, and calling his penis his ‘wee-wee’. He forgot Rick’s name, and couldn’t recover it–the only thing he could think to call him was…’Daddy’.

Rick heard him say that, and chided him. “I’m not your daddy, little boy–you know that. Why don’t you just call me your big brother? Because we’re family, and families take care of each other, right?”

That didn’t sound right at all, but…but it did make him feel good, “Ok, big brother,” Ian said, smiling wide.

“You wanna take care of your brother’s wee-wee for him?”

Ian nodded–the taste of his brother’s cock had started growing on him, and he sucked him off, cumming spontaneously when Rick shot down his throat.

The next day, he woke to discover he was no longer tied to the bed. This…this was his chance! He rolled up, surprised by how…heavy he felt, and saw that his small gut had doubled in size in just a week. What in the world was he being fed, to make him do that? Still, now was his chance to get the hell out of here. He tried to stand up, but his legs couldn’t–or rather, wouldn’t support him. Instead, he started crawling across the floor towards the door, feeling his full diaper sagging down between his legs, making his wee-wee hard, just thinking about…about how nasty it was. How much his big bro would love eating his filth later. He shook his head, and reached the door, struggled to balance on his knees…but froze, in front of the doorknob, struck with terror, and…guilt. He…he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to be a bad boy! No, no! He was a good boy, and good boys did what daddy wanted, and daddy wanted him to stay…right? Ian had lost his mental footing, and he sat back in his own shit, trying to sort out what he should do, reaching no firm conclusion before Rick came in to get his little brother cleaned up and fed, but disappointed that Baby Ian had gotten out of bed by himself. Doesn’t he know that’s dangerous? He disciplined him, smacking his ass after he’d licked it clean, Ian sobbing, promising he’d be a good boy from now on, and Rick let him suck his cock to quiet him back down, before diapering him back up, helping him back onto the bed, and giving him his daily programming.

Clarity came less and less. The few times Ian found himself considering escape filled him with fear of disappointing his family. No, he would be a good boy, good and obedient. His feedings grew longer, now that he could eat more, and his shit would regularly overflow his diaper after his meals…which filled Ian with disgust at first…but when Rick saw and praised him for being such a good, nasty baby, he felt himself well with pride–and he started eating more, shitting harder, to make Rick happy. After two weeks of his vacation, Rick finally fucked him–before licking him clean, shoving his cock into Ian’s shit coated crack, and Ian couldn’t believe how…how horny he was, playing and fucking in his own filth. Rick began fucking him regularly, and even let Ian suck his cock clean, even though Rick saved most of his mess for himself, and Ian found himself wondering what his big brother’s crack might smell like in the rubber, what…what his shit might taste like.

Ian could tell his body was changing, but his mind was so addled it was difficult for him to comprehend everything that was happening to him. The fat he was putting on was the most pronounced shift–after two weeks he was already close to 350 pounds, and his muscles had begun to wither. Now, even if he could remember how to walk, his leg’s wouldn’t have been able to support his weight. All of his hair, from the top of his head to his face to the rest of his body had fallen away, leaving him perfectly smooth from head to toe. His cock and balls had changed as well, growing smaller. His balls, by the end of the third week, were more like raisins, and his cock was shrunk back to less than an inch, and was usually buried in his fat. His nipples had grown larger, however, and become incredibly sensitive–it was easier now for him to cum by playing with them, that trying to find and play with his cock. He was losing, and he knew it, and a growing part of him didn’t even mind anymore.

Paid Vacation (Part 2)

***WARNING*** Things get nasty from here on out.

He awoke the next morning in a kingsize bed, his wrists and ankles bound to the four bedposts, naked aside from a thick diaper around his waist and a pacifier stuck in his mouth, and…and his mind clear, for perhaps the first time in ages. He fought and struggled, trying to scream around the pacifier, but his mouth wouldn’t stop sucking on it–even though he knew he shouldn’t, he had no control over his body, or over his bladder, he discovered, when he felt it release into the diaper, his cheeks blushing as he struggled more, but it was no use–sweaty and tired he collapsed, heaving for breath through his nose. He was alone for around an hour, before the door finally opened, revealing Mr. Jeffries and his two butlers, now glad in their more usual leather jocks and harnesses, to greet his newest guest.

“Ah, there you are Ian, I see you have been well attended to since your arrival last night, and from the smell, it sounds like you’ve already made yourself right at home.”

He tried to curse at him, but it only came out garbled through the pacifier, and he gave up after a few attempts at speaking. What in the hell was this? had he ever been working on anything? Now that his head was clear, all he could remember doing at work for the last few months was watching television meant for babies, laughing and giggling like an idiot as he pissed himself over and over, and jacked off into his sopping wet pants. What the fuck had been wrong with him, that he hadn’t even noticed it once?

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, now that I’ve undone the block on your initial programming. Don’t worry, you won’t remember for very long–but the second stage isn’t effective unless you are fully aware–I wish we could just skip that long preamble, but until I’ve broken down your defenses, I can never be sure you’ll respond properly to the big guns or not. But now, your mind is defenseless–an open book, and I can’t wait to start ripping out those pages. From the moment I saw you in that elevator, I knew I had to have you, sweet little thing you are. You’ll be daddy’s good little baby boy before too long–you’re going to love it. I like to administer the first round myself, but I have another project of mine who’s dying for some time alone with you, who’ll take charge of your development for the rest of the month.”

First came the IV and the drugs, relaxing his body until he could barely move a muscle–even his mouth ceased it’s spontaneous sucking. Then, came the helmet, covering his entire head. He couldn’t see or hear anything for a moment, but then it turned on, a blast of sound and color, so intense he…he didn’t really remember any of it. It was removed from his head later, and he was given a tube to suck–fed slushy food until he felt like he was going to burst. He’d resisted for so long, but he couldn’t fight it, as he messed his diaper at last, a massive load of shit filling the back of his diaper. It was night now, but no one came to change him, and exhausted from the terrors of the day, he fell into a fitful sleep.

The next day, he was awoken to the door of his room opening–he expected to see Mr. Jeffries, but it was someone else–someone he didn’t recognize, not at first. It was Rick–his coworker–although now he was dressed in a full body rubber suit, his eyes…crazed, as he stalked towards the bed, shoved his face into Ian’s diaper, smelling it and rubbing his cock through the suit he had on. Ian tried to yell at him through the pacifier in his mouth, but Rick had a singular obsession–he tore the diaper from his body and began devouring everything inside, before he turned his attention back to Ian, and licked his own body clean, before applying a generous amount of baby powder and diapering him back up. Ian couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed, but after another massive meal fed to him by tube, the helmet descended once again, and he was once again held captive by Mr. Jeffries’ programming all day, subjected to a second feeding that night, by Rick. He pleaded with him again, but Rick just stroked his hair with a filthy hand, and cooed him gently.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take such good care of you. Does baby need to cum before he goes beddy bye? And maybe you need a big boy pacifier too…”

Rick pulled the plug from his mouth, undid the zipper of his suit and allowed his dick to pop free from it’s sweaty prison. Ian tried to resist, but he…he needed to suck. Even though it tasted foul and disgusting, he…he couldn’t stop. He didn’t…want to stop. Rick didn’t undo his diaper, he just rubbed Ian’s cock through the thick padding, until with a wild spasm he came, and Rick started fucking his face until he shot as well, Ian sucking down his coworkers load, no longer able to control his own body or needs.

Rick left him there, and it was only a few minutes later that, with a loud fart, Ian started filling his diaper with shit once more. There had been no warning from his bowels this time–he’d simply lost all control, and he started sobbing, whining and crying, until Rick returned to comfort him, massaging his cock again until he came once more while he sniffed at the shit in Ian’s diaper, and no longer able to cope with what was happening, Ian fell into another sleep of exhaustion.

Grandpa’s Lil’ Boys (Part 3)

***WARNING: Scat ***

The bedroom was small, and dominated by a massive, king size bed that barely left enough room to walk around it, the floor littered with dirty clothes so thick Blake couldn’t even see the carpet. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, trying to focus and keep his wits about him…and trying to keep himself from becoming too aroused, as the sight of his snoring Grandpa right there, a few feet away. He was turned away from Blake, sleeping on his side, and blake could see the necklace’s gold chain wrapping around the back of his fat, flabby neck, swallowed by a couple folds. He shouldn’t…shouldn’t be in here, he shouldn’t be doing this. Grandpa…Grandpa kept him safe, kept him happy. This felt just…so wrong.

He pushed against the doubts, knowing they were being sown by whatever magic was in that necklace. He had to fight it–he could do this. He crept closer, trying to keep the diaper around his large waist from crinkling too loudly, and hoisted himself up onto the mattress as gracefully as he could, but at his shorter height and new heft, he couldn’t help letting out a grunt. Still, Grandpa was sleeping soundly, and he stayed there on his knees, in his messy diaper, just…just looking at him. No, admiring him, how manly he was, how…strong and powerful and sexy. He could just…imagine being wrapped up in his arms, his Granddaddy’s cock slipping into his ass, pulling…him close. No, he had to fight it–he crawled closer, but the doubts only got louder, the closer he got. This was bad. He was being a bad boy, and he didn’t want to be bad, did he? No! No, he wanted to be good, but he didn’t…didn’t want this, did he? But why…why wouldn’t he? The closer he got, the less he understood, why he was trying to do this at all, and the guilt overwhelmed him as he reached for the chain, and he broke into loud, heaving sobs, tears running down his smooth face.

Grandpa woke up, and rolled over. “Boy! What the fuck are you doin’ in my room? Didn’t I tell you to stay out there and play with your brother?”

“I–I…s-sorry Grandpa, I…” He tried to muster an excuse, but all that came out was more sobs. Grandpa rolled up and pulled him close, into his chest. He was so close to that damn necklace, but all of the thoughts of stealing it had disappeared. He was just a little boy, a bad little boy. He had to confess, he had to tell Grandpa what a bad boy he’d been, trying to steal from him. In between choking sobs, he told Grandpa what he’d been trying to do, but that he hadn’t been able to do it. Grandpa listened and consoled him until Blake’s sobs finally calmed down and became sniffles.

“It’s ok, Blakey. I know that little boys like you can get stupid thoughts like that sometimes, it’s ok, but I think you need to be punished, don’t you? So you learn that little boys shouldn’t have thoughts like that, that they shouldn’t try to get away from Grandpa, right?”

Blake nodded. “I know Grandpa, I was a bad boy. Are…are you gonna spank me?”

“No boy, I think we need a bigger punishment than that. I think until you can learn to keep that naughty head of your under control, we’d better just keep it occupied with more important things for a while,” the necklace began to sparkle, and Blake tried to turn away instinctively, but his eyes were already locked with the light, as it grew stronger, “Yeah, we’ll make that brain of yours much more productive. Filthy, filthy piggy thoughts. Yeah, you’re gonna be my pig boy for a good long while, and maybe I’ll give you a chance to think about something other than nasty filth in a few weeks, once you’ve learned your lesson good ‘n proper.”

His words faded into the light, like a single force burning into Blake’s head. It finally faded away, and he felt…different again. Better, even. Blake gave a loud snort, and he could feel another huge load of shit following from his ass into his diaper, and unable to stop himself, he felt an orgasm rip through him, his cock pumping a massive load of cum into his diaper as he snorted loudly.

“That’s a good piggy, now why don’t you go get filthy? I bet your brother can help you out. After all, I can’t have a clean piggy in the house, right? I’ll feed ya too when I’m done with my nap.”

Blake nodded dumbly, drool falling from his open mouth, and he crawled off the bed, tried to stand up at the edge, and ended up falling to his hands and knees, unable to walk. He must have gotten even fatter–he could feel his flab scraping against the stinking dirty laundry and the carpet on the floor and he crawled back to where Nate was sitting in his own messy diaper. He tried to talk to him, but Blake pushed him over yanked down the waistband of Nate’s diaper and shoved his face into his brother’s messy crack, slurping up the shit, oinking and grunting, thrusting into his own nasty diaper. Nate was just happy it wasn’t him, this time. He’d spent enough time as Grandpa’s pig boy before, to know you don’t try to fight too hard, but Blake would learn that soon enough–he was smart. The three of them could be happy together–Nate knew that. All they had to do was be good boys and keep Grandpa happy, and everything would be just fine–forever.

Grandpa’s lil’ Boys (Part 2)

The light dimmed slowly away from his vision, and Blake felt…strange. He certainly didn’t feel…right. Grandpa was standing in front of him, and that made him feel better…or did it? Something, something told him he needed to get away from him, that he needed to run, but…but why would he run from his Grandpa?

“Come on boy, give me a big hug,” the old man said, and after a moment of hesitation, Blake walked to him and let Grandpa pull him close, smelling the old man, feeling his cock hardening in his diaper.

Wait…diaper? Hadn’t he been wearing jeans a minute ago? But why would he be wearing jeans? He…he only wears diapers. That’s Grandpa’s rule. Little boys who can’t control themselves have to wear diapers, like him and his…brother…

He looked over his shoulder at Natey behind him, still on the floor sucking on his binky, rubbing himself through his diaper. He…he wanted to do that too, fuck. Yeah, it feels kind of good, grinding his soft crotch into Grandpa. Blake looked up and found Grandpa looking down at him…but he hadn’t been that tall, had he? It seemed like he’d shrunk by about a foot, and his rugged, muscular body was so much softer, and smooth. In fact, he didn’t seem to have hair anywhere other than his hair, where it was thin, soft and strawberry blonde. Grandpa’s calloused hands on his soft skin made him shiver, and when he bent down to kiss him, he couldn’t resist, allowing Grandpa to rape his mouth with his tongue, as a blast of piss erupted from his cock, soaking the front of the diaper, feeling it grow heavy around his waist, the stench melding with Grandpa’s filthy musk and scent of tobacco smoke.

“Yeah, that’s a good boy, a very good boy,” Grandpa said, “Now why don’t you get down there and suck Grandpa’s pacifier?”

Blake knew something was wrong, but…this couldn’t be it. He loved Grandpa’s pacifier. He got down on his knees, finding himself faced with Grandpa’s thick, cheesy cock head, and he sucked on the head, getting it good and wet, two hands on the front of his diaper rubbing his cock as hard as he could through the soggy fabric.

“Hey Natey!” Grandpa said, “Get over here and give your new brother a hand–or a mouth.”

The cock plug binky fell from Nate’s mouth, and he crawled over next to Blake and began giving Grandpa’s balls a tongue bath. Somehow, he had changed too–he had seemed normal before, but now, like Blake, he was shorter and chubbier as well.

“Fuck, two boys is definitely better than one. Nate here, he was never really your friend, you know–I sent him out just to find another boy to bring back here with him. It took him a while, but I gotta say I couldn’t be happier, and the two of you are gonna be such good, loving brothers, right? Taking care of Grandpa and each other? Fuck, here comes your first taste of Granddaddy’s juice boy!”

Grandpa wrapped his hands around Blake’s head and pumped his cum right down his gullet, and Blake, still unable to believe what was happening, drank it all down. Grandpa pulled his cock free from his mouth, and Nate licked his way up Blake’s fat mouth and started kissing him, sucking the last bits of cum from his mouth, and Blake, still knowing this was wrong, couldn’t help but kiss back, pushing their wet diapers together.

“Such good boys,” Grandpa sighed, “Anyway, ya’ll interrupted my nap, so I’m gonna go back to bed. I’m sure the two of you can play together for a bit, right?” he chuckled, and tromped back to the trailer’s bedroom, shutting the door behind him–and as soon as he was out of the room, Blake felt his mind clear a bit more, and Nate pulled away–a bit reluctantly.

“What…what happened, Nate? I don’t…”

“I told you to leave, Blake, I told you…I didn’t want this, I liked you, but you–”

Blake just stared at him, unable to believe what had happened to him–to them. “You…you were my friend, just to…bring me here?”

“No!” Nate said, “No, that’s what he wanted me to do, but the further I get from that necklace, the better I can resist him. I made a friend like he wanted, but I was never going to bring you here–but then you just showed up anyway!”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know? I just thought you didn’t want me to see where you lived…”

“Well it’s too late now…”

Blake looked at the shut bedroom door. He could already hear his Grandpa snoring behind it. “It’s that necklace, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“So…let’s just get it off him.”

“He never takes it off. It’s hopeless. If you just…just let it happen, it’s a lot easier,” Nate said, and started rubbing the front of Blake’s diaper, making his shiver, “It’s…kind of fun, even, sometimes. And I don’t have to be alone now, we can do it together, we can…survive,” Nate leaned in and kissed him, and Blake gave in, pushing their fat guts together, feeling their diapers rustle–until his bowels suddenly loosened and he filled the back of his diaper with a huge load of shit, and he pulled away in shame.

“Fuck, I just shit myself!”

“You’ll get used to it, trust me.”

“No! I don’t want to get used to this. This is so…wrong!” Blake heaved himself up, feeling his messed diaper sagging around his waist under his flabby body, “I’m getting that necklace and I’m getting out of here. I want to go home!”

Nate just watched him, as Blake creaked the door open as quietly as he could, and slipped inside. He should stop him, but maybe…no, it would be better for him to learn for himself. He’d tried everything already, but there was no way out of Grandpa’s clutches. The sooner Blake learned that for himself, the better off they’d all be.

Grandpa’s Lil’ Boys (Part 1)

“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.

Baby Bear – Part 3

Such a sweet baby bear. A fighter to the end. But now those big eyes of his are empty, ready to be filled with whatever I want–still, that can wait until morning. He’s very tired after all of that, and so am I for that matter. I get him changed into a fresh diaper and then put him to bed–he’s sleeping in the nursery now, of course, not the guest room. He’s so cute in his crib, binky in his mouth, clutching a blanket.

The next morning, I wake him up, and after a morning blow job, I see what remains after the battle the night before. He is quite stupid, I must say. A pity too–I was hoping he’d be smart. I’d been wanting to raise a businessman, but it looks like I’ll have to change my plans. His vocabulary is very simple, his math and reasoning skills are stunted. Still, he has a good sense of humor, and goodness is he eager to please! That’s such a good sign–that means he’ll be all grown up again in no time at all.

Of course, the first few months were spent getting baby to a place where we could start his education proper. Helping him remember how to walk, for instance. He may have been a baby, but I certainly couldn’t carry him everywhere, especially with his developing appetite. This was going to be a chubby bear, I’d already decided–he’d arrived husky, and I wanted to see what he looked like with some more meat on his bones. And of course, I reinforced his oral fixation–he just wasn’t happy without something in his mouth. That helped inspire his new name, too–Orel. A good name for a fatass, dumb baby bear who loves to suck on anything he can get his mouth around.

After those first few months, he was finally walking again, and had recovered some of his vocabulary, but not very much at all. I realized I was going to have to lower my expectations for Orel rather substantially. That’s not to say I don’t love him! I love all my boys, but some rise higher than others. Once I felt like I could trust him to not drop it, I got him smoking. All my boys smoke, of course, just like their daddy. We started with cigarettes, and once the addiction had him smoking two packs a day, I switched him to cigars, which he enjoyed much more, because, as he said with his characteristic enthusiasm, “they’re shaped like cocks!” That had him so excited, he giggled about it all day, but watching him suck on those tobacco shafts sure did get me hornier for his throat more than anything else.

He stayed with me for a few years. Pretty soon, he was tipping the scales at 400 pounds, and it was getting hard to find diapers large enough for him to wear. Potty training was proving difficult. In fact, it seemed that he liked soiling himself. Of course, all my boys like it to some extent–it reminds them of their second childhood more than anything else–but for Orel, he eventually confessed that he just liked how it felt to have a heavy diaper on, that it made him feel like a bad boy who needed to be punished by his daddy with a fuck or a spanking. He liked feeling like a bad boy, he added, and then he giggled like a fool. I suppose I shouldn’t have been all that surprised–someone who’d put up as much of a fight as he did was bound to have a rebellious streak in him, so I decided to just go along with it and encourage him. If he wanted to be stuck in diapers for the rest of his life, then so be it–I certainly wasn’t going to complain about it–but forcing him to take responsibility for it…well, that proved to be a bit harder.

Sometimes, I’m sure he just forgot to change himself, but other times, I knew he’d just keep his filthy diaper on because he liked it. He liked being dirty, and he liked being a slob. Part of that was my fault, I suppose. I’d conditioned him to enjoy humiliation, especially being belittled for how stupid he was, and so it isn’t surprising that he enjoyed the fact that he was a sat around in his own filth as well, but It was a bit of a complication in my plans. By this time, he was pretty much all grown up again–just another one of my bears–and that meant it was time for him to move out and move on with his new life. But to do that, well, he needed a job, but that was going to be a challenge. He was too stupid to do anything with a computer from home, which would have let him be as much of a slob as he’d like, and he couldn’t do anything social with his poor hygiene and lackluster social skills. Thankfully, one of my other boys, Barry, came through for me. He had a fuckbuddy who ran a delivery company, and he was willing to let Orel drive one of his trucks. He’d be working nights, so he wouldn’t have to talk to many people, and as long as he could drive well enough, and provide his boss with a throat to fuck on occasion, it would work out fine. Now all I had to do was teach him to drive–a challenge, but not an insurmountable one, and giving him something that he could succeed at made Orel happy. “I might be dumb as a rock, ‘n I might be a nasty poopypants, and I’s a fat slut for sure, but at least I can drive a damn truck, right Daddy?” he told me one day with that big grin of his, sitting in the driver seat of the truck we were using for driver’s education and I could tell everything would work out alright for my baby bear in the end. Now I just had to get to work on finding one to replace him.

Baby Bear – Part 2

How could I have forgotten? I’d sucked his cock nearly every night, and most nights he’d fucked my ass as well. I’d licked his body clean from neck to toes. He’d fed me pipe smoke right into my eager mouth. And I had somehow forgotten all of it, gone off to school each day like nothing strange was going on at all. I realized I had done none of my studying that I’d needed to do, and I was failing all of my classes. The semester was nearly over, and I had no idea how I was going to turn any of it around. Perhaps it was silly to worry about school when you discover some old man has been manipulating you and forcing you into diapers, but it was something I could think about. I didn’t want to think about his old cock in my mouth–I didn’t want to think about how much I wanted his cock in my mouth, really. Because I did. And I wanted him to fuck me. And so I ran.

He probably expected me to try and run; he didn’t even try and stop me. I didn’t even care that all I was wearing was a diaper soiled with my own cum, I just wanted out of that house. I flung open the front door and ran out across the lawn, but as soon as I was outside, this monstrous fear rose up inside me. I was outside. More than outside, I was lost. I didn’t know where I was. The world was gigantic, and I had no idea where Daddy was, and I might never get home, and who was going to take care of me? I made it to the curb, tears rolling down my face, no longer able to focus on getting away, not even really understanding what I was feeling, and then he was beside me, pulling me close–Daddy. I was so happy to see him. I gave him a huge hug, and he led me back up the driveway and into the house, where the fear immediately disappeared, and my mind tried to get a grip.

“I wouldn’t try to run away again, baby bear. You all try it once, but if you keep trying, then I’m going to have to punish you,” he said. Daddy said. I struggled with his name, trying to find it in my mind, but his name was just that–”Daddy”. I remembered that was the same thing all those strange men who visited called him, and before I could ask, he explained what he had done to me, and to the rest of them over the last several decades.

It was true–he was lonely. He had been a very skilled hypnotist when he was younger, and he decided to make himself what he called “Baby Bears”–young men he’d keep in diapers, and raise to be better men than what they might have otherwise been. Better from his perspective, of course–I was horrified at the thought, but he assured me that there would be no escaping my new fate. He told me that I had already accepted the first round of conditioning, and now it was time for us to decide what kind of bear I was going to grow up to be, and how much work it was going to take for me to grow up.

You see, he would only be able to make me into a “proper bear” after he’d destroyed and erased most of who I was now. This could be, he told me, a rather violent process, and leave a person’s mind quite damaged, unless they went along with him, and willingly allowed him to destroy their old selves so they could be reborn again. I, of course, was freaking out. He assured me that the more I fought, the worse it would be for me. I was convinced that if I tried hard enough, if I proved indestructible, he would have to let me go. He smiled. It was almost like he liked the idea of me fighting back. And then he said something, some phrase I can’t remember, and things grew slippery. I could feel him ripping out chunks of my personality, and I was fighting him, trying to hold onto them, but he would just tear harder, and it would hurt, like a massive migraine, but I couldn’t let him win, I couldn’t.

I don’t know how much time passed before I came back to myself again, shaking on the floor in a fetal position, Daddy sitting in an armchair beside me. I was still me. I still had lost some, but I still remembered who I’d been. He told me to quit fighting him, that if I kept fighting him, he was going to have to make things worse for me. I laughed, and told him to give it his best shot. He looked disappointed, repeated that mysterious phrase, and this time, I had no real understanding of what was happening. When I resurfaced, however, something had changed in my mind. I was moving slower. I tried to ask him what had happened, but all that came out was baby talk. I also realized, to my horror, that I had pissed my diaper again–and that I had also taken a massive shit as well. I tried to get up, I tried to stand, but my body wasn’t working quite right. All I could do was crawl. Daddy got down at eye level with me, and told me that I was being a very dumb baby bear. That I was going to grow up and become a very dumb baby bear, and if I didn’t let him win, I was going to be the stupidest bear he’d ever raised, that I’d never even be able to go potty like a big boy again. I didn’t want to be that stupid, I really didn’t. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life wearing diapers. One day, I wanted to be a big boy, I wanted to grow up again. I was crying, and he asked me if I was done fighting him. I wanted to say no, but I was exhausted, and I knew he would win. When I went under that final time, I let him remove every bit of me that he could find. This is the last of me, this is the last little bit, the last chunk, and I’m holding on, but he’s coming, he’s coming and–

Baby Bear – Part 1

I was a junior, and I was sick and tired of living in the dorms on campus. The creaking heaters that refused to turn off, the mold, the toilets that couldn’t flush shit–all of the buildings should have been razed twenty years ago, but school instead had built a bunch of other dorms they could charge more for, that I couldn’t afford, naturally. So I figured, “Fuck it,” and I managed to find a room to rent a few blocks from campus from a nice older gentleman named Willard. He’d lived in the neighborhood for years, but he told me when I came to see the room that he didn’t really need the rent money–he just hated being all alone in the house more than anything else, and so he usually rented it out to students at the local college for some company, and to help the house feel “lived in.” It was a little pitiful, but the rent was so cheap, I figured I could give him some company on occasion.

In fact, as the first semester wore on, I discovered that Willard was one of the best landlords a college student could ask for. He had dinner for me every evening if I was home–all I had to do was give him some extra money for the grocery bill. He was a bit of an insomniac, and since I often stayed up late studying, he let me use his office to work in, and he would sit in there with me, usually smoking a pipe, and we would chat. It never really struck me as odd, however, that I never seemed able to remember the things we’d talked about, or even remember doing any work for my classes. He started sitting in the study wearing less and less clothing, usually opting for an open robe, his cock hanging out, and I was, for some reason, completely unfazed as we chatted, his pipe billowing smoke, while we both had some of his whiskey.

Those first few weeks, I also noticed that, for a lonely old man, he sure did seem to have quite a few visitors who came around regularly. Some were only a bit older than me, while a few others were approaching middle aged, but they all seemed very familiar with him. They shared some other similarities too–they all were smokers, and all of them were big, hairy, burly guys. One other thing, is that they all gave me this…look. Like they were trying to suppress a laugh, or were in on some joke I had no idea about yet. I suppose I should have seen something coming, but I was just oblivious.

Then, during midterms, I wet the bed for the first time. I was mortified–I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done something like that. I managed to get the sheets through the washer and dryer without Willard noticing, but the next night it happened again. I knew I couldn’t tell him, I was too embarrassed, and yet, in his study that night, it all came tumbling out, how ashamed I was of it, how I couldn’t believe I’d lost control like that, how I was afraid I’d do it for a third night in a row. He was very understanding, holding me close on his lap until I’d stopped sobbing, and then he suggested that I start wearing diapers every night “as a precaution”.

I should have thought he was crazy. I should have left right then and never come back. But for whatever reason, his suggestion just made perfect sense to me. Diapers–of course I should just wear diapers. I never asked why he already had a supply ready for me–he just helped me strip, got me powdered and diapered, and put me to bed with a kiss on the cheek like all of this was perfectly normal. I woke up with a heavy, cold, wet diaper, but Willard was there, ready to get me changed out of it. I never bothered asking why he was so intent on helping me–I just let him, and then I went off to school like everything was normal, until a few weeks later, when I wet myself during a lecture.

I couldn’t stop it. I noticed after a few seconds, feeling my crotch turn warm, but I couldn’t do anything. I panicked. I heard it dribbling off the seat and onto the tile floor. I could smell it. I grabbed my things as quickly as I could, and fled the room, piss still running down my leg and into my shoe, and I didn’t stop running until I got home. Sobbing, I was barely able to get the words out to Willard to tell him what happened to me. He seemed…perfectly fine with it, as he hugged me tight, and when he told me that I would just have to start wearing diapers all the time from now on, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable suggestion. He helped me out of my wet jeans and underwear, got a diaper for me and helped me into it. But this time…this time, something else happened. I got hard. I got hard in the diaper–just the feeling of it was turning me on, and I started…doing things. Humping the air, grinding my crotch into Willard’s side, and my landlord shoved his hand down into the front of the diaper, finding my hard cock, and started jacking me off, his other hand pulling my face to his, and he kissed me deeply, shoving his tongue into my mouth, the taste of his pipe overpowering everything else.

I ended up on my knees, his old, hard cock working its way into my throat. I couldn’t put my hand in my diaper for some reason, and so I was forced to rub my cock through it, humping it, getting myself closer to cumming, but he came first, filling my mouth with cum. Even though I knew I had never sucked him off before, the taste was so familiar and comforting, and I came soon after that, filling my diaper with a load of cum. I pulled away from his cock and licked my lips. He said, “Time to remember everything, Baby Bear–we should have a talk,” and suddenly I could remember everything.

And never have I felt so used in my entire life.

“You know, before you can grow up, you need to go all the way back. Martin here, he’s almost there. You can hear him whimpering through that gag; he’s scared. Of course he is, nothing in that life had prepared him for this. Still, he won’t remember much of any of this–who remembers their childhood in any detail, really? He’s gonna like being himself too much to think about it anyway.”

The man gets down next to Martin, where he’s tied to the chair. I can smell the full diaper from across the room, and wonder how long since its been changed. He ruffles and strokes his hair with one hand, and it’s hard to tell whether the flinch Martin gives is trying to get away, or trying to get closer to him. “You’re almost there–I know you’re tired of fighting it? The drugs just want to set you free, you don’t have to fight them. You’re so close, and that final step is hard, I know, but do it for me–do it for daddy.”

He tweaks one of Martin’s nipples and the whimpering gets louder. “Can’t wait to see you grow up, you know. It’s gonna take a while, but it’ll be easier the second time around, and you’ll have a much better dad this time around. A tough one, one who’ll turn you into a proper fucker. Furry chest, muscular–you won’t take shit from anyone. Angry and self-centered, smoking cigars too big for your face, daring someone to say something, cupping that cock of yours through your ripped, filthy jock…”

He continues in a low voice, and Martin starts seizing against his bonds. It isn’t clear what’s happening exactly, and I realize he must be cumming, but more than that. There was pleasure, but also a look of death–with every violent shake, I wonder if his neck might break. I had assumed that he was bound up because he was being held back from escaping, but was he bound up to protect him? To ease the worst of it?

He strokes Martin’s hair, calming him down, and something is different. Martin’s posture is no longer tense, but utterly relaxed, sagging against the leather straps holding him in place. He was gone, gone where I hoped to be, soon. “He’s back where he belongs now,” the man says and turns to me, “So, boy, what do you want to be when you grow up again?”