here is a little story about getting to the point … and then getting beyond it.
Getting to the Point –
“Yes, Robert. I know your last name is Smith, just like the lead singer of The Cure,” Taylor said, picking up her drink and walking out of the kitchen. “You tell me this at least once a week.”
Looking over at Jessica, Taylor rolled her eyes as she walked away from the kitchen, into the living room.
Robert was one of those co-workers who had no social graces to his personality at all and he also had no hope of ever finding said-given graces. It just wasn’t in his genetic make-up. And whenever one of the co-workers threw a private party, they always felt obligated to invite him. Robert would attend the party, usually held in someone’s home, and get so drunk that all he could do was talk about himself.
“Congratulations, Taylor,” Roger the office flirt said, walking up to her and winking with that creepy look on his face that always made her skin crawl. “I hear you were the top salesman of the last quarter. Or I guess I should say you were the top saleswoman.”
“Thank you, Roger,” Taylor said, trying to get away from him, but giving up on her fast-pace steps when he started walking alongside her.
“They always give the top sales person an additional week’s vacation,” Roger said, opening the balcony door for Taylor and following her out. “So where do you think you’ll go on your vacation.”
I don’t know, Roger,” Taylor said, pinching the bridge of her nose as too many glasses of wine had begun to put her in a buzz. “I’m not going to take the week off for at least a month. So I haven’t really thought about it yet.”
“Well, if you’re looking for company, I can make myself available for you,” Roger said, winking again.
“That’s a very sweet offer, Roger. But I don’t date co-workers and I certainly don’t go on vacations with them,” Taylor said, trying to be polite but wanting him to get away from her as soon as possible.
Roger pointed at her and made a clicking noise with his teeth, then winking again and walking back into the party. Turning around to face the doors of the balcony, Taylor caught sight of Steven, the office hottie, leaning back on a lounge chair and pulling a needle out of his abdomen.
“Steven?” Taylor said, walking over to him and sitting on the side of the lounge chair. “What are you doing?”
“I’m diabetic,” Steven said, smiling honestly. “Sometimes, I have to get to the point … so to speak.”
“Yeah,” Taylor said, watching him zip up his insulin kit and slide it into his pants pocket. “You miss a lot of work because of your health, don’t you?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Steven said, smirking. “I’ve had all sorts of medical problems all my life.”
“Why?” Taylor asked, intrigued to be talking to him as he truly was the enigma in the workplace.
Nobody knew much about him. But he was always polite, soft-spoken and extremely helpful. He was a good-looking guy already, but the unknown mysteries about him made him all that much more attractive. And all the girls in the office had dreams about him, dreams they compared with one another through their gossipy morning breaks each day.
“Well, part of my sicknesses comes from having had a mother who was a drug addict. She didn’t give up her addictions when she was pregnant with and I was born two months pre-maturely because of it,” Steven admitted.
“Oh, my. I’m sorry,” Taylor said, being sympathetic but not over-doing it as it didn’t seem that he was looking for pity, rather, just simply answering her question. “So I guess you don’t get along with your mother very well then.”
“I don’t get along with her at all. But I also don’t not get along with her, either,” Steven answered cryptically, then smiling. “She passed away giving birth to me. I figure that way she paid for her mistakes and despite her best efforts otherwise, I was still granted life. A little needle prick every now and then isn’t such a big deal when you look at it that way.”
Taylor smiled sweetly. What a really nice guy he was. Steven had every right in the world to be bitter, unreasonable even. But he wasn’t. He had a positive outlook that could easily become infectious.
“So, it was just a little diabetes that you got from her?” Taylor asked, not knowing what to say next but knowing that she definitely wanted to keep talking to him just then.
“Oh my goodness, no,” Steven answered with a laugh. “My father’s side of the family is all diabetic. That was an expected thing. Mom’s addictions destroyed my immune system. It means a head cold becomes influenza for me quite easily. That was Mom’s gift to me …”
“So to speak?” Taylor asked with a laugh.
“So to speak,” Steven said, laughing along with her.
Taylor kept laughing and began leaning forward, her dizziness from the wine throwing her balance off.
“Woah,” Steven said, taking hold of her shoulders and standing up – then easing Taylor down on the lounge chair. “I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight.”
“Yeah,” Taylor said, leaning her back and closing her eyes.
“Merlot is very good from what I’m told,” Steven said, picking up a bottle of water from the small table next to the lounge chair. “But now, I think you might wanna dilute it a bit.”
“Thank you,” Taylor said, taking the bottle of water and beginning to sip from it. “I think I overdid it tonight.”
“Everybody does that, from time to time,” Steven said, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Besides, we all have off tomorrow – which makes this a three-day weekend. Celebration is not only warranted but inevitable.”
Taylor laid there, her head still spinning, but now, not just with the effects from Merlot. Who was this guy? And why had she been so foolish as to not get to know him before now? He was so easy to talk to. He wasn’t overbearing like Robert. He wasn’t self-centered like Roger. He was … just Steven, a really nice guy who made her comfortable and presently was taking care of her.
Steven placed both of his thumbs on her eyebrows, tracing them outward and making small circles with his finger tips on her temples. Oh, yeah. Not only was he a nice guy, but he had a magic touch too.
“This could become a fetish for me, easily,” Taylor said, sipping from the water bottle.
“A fetish?” Steven asked, Taylor’s eyes growing big-n-wide.
“Well … when you … find something you like … a lot … it becomes more than just something you like. You call it a fetish,” Taylor said, trying to quickly cover her faux pas.
Not only was Steven a nice guy with a magic touch. He was also not stupid. And maybe if Taylor hadn’t been as drunk as she was, she might well have found the ability to keep her mouth shut. But, given that the office hottie was pampering her and that she felt like she was the girl who had made the discovery of him, she opened her mouth and let a few more secrets out.
“Tell me about yourself,” Taylor said, making one last attempt to cover her tracks.
“Oh no you don’t,” Steven said, laughing. “You are not changing the subject, right after a slip of the tongue that requires a lot of explanation.”
“Okay,” Taylor said, beginning to enjoy this flirting way too much. “You tell me a secret about you and I’ll tell you a secret about me.”
“Deal,” Steven said as Taylor sat up – Steven holding her up as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I get on Youtube to watch porn.”
“I get on Youtube to watch bondage videos,” Taylor whispered.
“I like porn,” Steven admitted.
“I like bondage,” Taylor admitted.
“What else do you like?” Steven whispered, his irises burning with a lust that she reciprocated – her heart pounding in her chest.
“I like all sorts of dirty things,” Taylor whispered, a tingle forming in all the right places on her body.
“Tell me about them,” Steven whispered.
“Well …,” Taylor started with a breathy-quality to her voice, trying to keep her poise. “I have fantasies about things, like being forced to do things and being punished if I do them wrong. And I love feeling humiliated, especially when it comes to sexual things.”
“Sexual things like what?” Steven asked.
“Like, um … being aroused and being brought close to cumming but then not being allowed to cum and being teased on that edge of it,” Taylor answered. “I don’t know. I don’t know the words to explain it.”
“You’re using all the right words,” Steven said softly, reassuring her. “Tell me more.”
“I like being mind-fucked and like, having my thoughts scrambled inside my head and I have a really weird specific fetish,” Taylor said, then catching her breath as she tried to find the courage to say it. “It’s a baby thing.”
“A baby thing?” Steven whispered in question. “You mean, like getting pregnant?”
“No,” Taylor said, the wine buzz beginning to clear from her head enough for her to realize the gravity of what she was revealing to him. “It’s not about having a baby. It’s about being a baby.”
“I don’t understand,” Steven admitted, Taylor lowering her chin but Steven lifting it back up. “But I’d like to understand. So tell me.”
“I am a fully-grown woman who likes to dress and sometimes act and sometimes be treated like a baby,” Taylor answered, blushing a little at her admittance.
“How does it make you feel?” Steven asked, Taylor looking at the balcony door to make certain no one was coming out from the party.
“It feels amazing. It’s both an innocent feeling as well as a naughty feeling,” Taylor admitted. “I don’t know if it’s the sub thing that does it for me or the obedience it requires of me, but whatever it is, I just simply can’t get enough of it.”
“Now that is getting to the point,” Steven said, brushing her bangs out of her eyes again. “And I promise you I’ll never tell a soul.”
Steven and Taylor talked for quite some time on that balcony and by the time the party ended, there was some sort of a new bond between them. Neither could really define it, but they knew that this night was simply the beginning of so much more to come.
“Now, let me ask this again to make sure,” Steven said, holding Taylor’s driver’s door open as she got into her car. “You’re absolutely certain that you are okay to drive?”
“I’m certain, but thank you for asking … Daddy,” Taylor said with a grin.
“You go straight home, little girl. And you get into bed,” Steven said, playing back.
All the way home, Taylor enjoyed a swooning of the mind that didn’t come from alcohol – the kind she felt only when overcome with affection. The sky seemed the limit and she was on cloud nine. Playing it safe, Taylor drove slowly back to her apartment complex, but not so slowly as to seem overly-cautious and alert the police. She was actually okay to drive, Steven having forced her to take down several bottles of water before he ever let her get into her car.
Parking in the spot right by her apartment door, Taylor got out of the car, hoping that her swoon would settle enough so that she could get some sleep. There was a three-day weekend ahead of her and she didn’t intend on sleeping through any of it.
Oh, how right she was about that – just not in the way she expected.
Getting to her front door, she opened her purse and began to look for her door key. From behind her in the shadows, a man approached – grabbing her and covering her nose-n-mouth with a cloth. She screamed into the cloth, but her screams were muffled as the guy dragged her back into the shadows. On the cloth there was some sort of liquid with a pungent odor – partially-sweet in scent but also with a stench that smelled like rotten eggs a little bit. The more she struggled to get free from the man, the more she gasped for air – breathing in the liquid and then passing out.
Taylor awoke in almost complete darkness – save for the slivers of light that came in underneath the door in front of her. Presumably, she was in a confined room, a closet perhaps and presumably, it was daytime. But she didn’t really know. Everything was very confusing, only made worse by having been grabbed just outside her apartment door last night … if that was last night. It could’ve been days ago – for all she knew.
But what she did know was that she was completely naked and kneeling on plastic. Her thighs and her shins had been duct taped together tightly, making it impossible for her stand up. Her arms were held straight up, both of her wrists having been hand cuffed to the bar above her. Around her neck she felt a collar, a leather one – thick and wide. And her mouth was held open by some sort of metal contraption that had been strapped around her head. From the feel of the jabbing metal poles that reached into her mouth, jabbing her under the tongue and up into the roof of her mouth, she believed it to be a spider gag – a particular kind of mouth gag that held her lips in a perfect open and rounded shape.
What had happened to her? Her mind raced in a frenzy to piece it all together. She left the party, drove home, walked up to her apartment door and that was when she was grabbed from behind, her mouth and nose covered with that awful smelling cloth. And that was it. That was all she could remember. Now, here she was in a dark closet, her stomach growling with hunger and her knees drenched with the wetness she knelt in, presumably the evidence as to why her bladder didn’t ache. But who had grabbed her? And how did she get here?
The longer she thought about it, the harder her heart began to pound in her chest. She began to whimper, softly at first and then much louder as she feared what might happen next. Should she thrash around and try to break free of her confinements? Should she call for help, for as much as the spider mouth gag would allow her to? But what if the person who heard her crying for help was the person who had abducted her and put her in this closet? Who was he … or she? And what did they want?
The questions of what to do flooded her mind and drove her nearly crazy. Paranoia went straight to fear and fear went straight into panic. And the closet was so cold she trembled from the chill, goose bumps having covered the surface of her skin. Thinking back again, she tried to figure out who had grabbed her. Was it someone from work who was bitter that she had won the week’s vacation? Was it Robert? Was it Roger? Was it that guy who always hung out in the parking lot at her apartment complex at really random and weird times?
Or was it Steven? No, it couldn’t have been him. He was too nice of a guy. But then again, he had always kept to himself at work. He was the enigma. What did she really know about him after all? She thought about all the secrets she had revealed to him. Maybe he had taken her honesty the wrong way.
Pulling at the hand cuffs, she swayed her hips trying to wiggle free of her constraints, but to no avail. From how numb her fingers and toes were, she believed herself to have been in that closet for quite a few hours at this point. Tears poured out of the outer corners of her eyes, streaming down her face. And her sadness may well have done her in – had a sudden rage not taken her senses over.
Screaming at the top of her lungs, she decided to let her presence be known, in the hopes that help would hear her. But even if her captor appeared, at least then she would know who had done this to her. So she screamed and screamed some more and screamed some more, but no one showed up. Sitting on her left hip, she tried to scoot her knees forward in an attempt to bang them into the back of the closet door. Maybe someone would hear the thuds and come to her aid, but no one showed up. And the longer she stayed in that dark closet, naked, bound and kneeling in her wetness, the closer her mind came to unraveling.
Having gained her breath back, she began to scream again – the handle of the closet door finally beginning to turn.
The door opened very slowly, the hinges creaking with eeriness in tone as the light of day poured into the closet. Taylor closed her eyes, being blinded by the light. More cold air rushed in around her, making her shiver even more so.
“Heh Neh!” she said through the mouth gag, trying to say help me.
But no one responded to her. So she squinted her eyes open to take in the sight of herself in the floor-length mirror on the other side of the room. It was a bedroom, or at least it looked like one. But whose bedroom was it? And what was going to happen to her now?
Before she had another second to contemplate the unknown, her captor appeared – sitting on the edge of the bed and facing her with a smile.
“Th-teven?” she mumbled through the mouth gag, shocked – to say the least.
“Hello, Taylor,” Steven said with that same calm voice that wooed her last night at the party. “I was wondering how long you would sleep in there. It can’t be a comfortable position, but then again, chloroform can have a powerful effect.”
That was it! That’s what that funny smell was on the cloth held over her mouth and nose.
“I’m sure you have a million questions for me right now, but since I probably won’t be able to understand you when you ask them, let me answer a few of the obvious ones right away,” Steven said, folding his hands and leaning forward. “Would you like to know why?”
Taylor nodded slowly, glad to see that it was him who had abducted her but no longer feeling that same sense of security he gave her last night, needless to say.
“I was intrigued by what your secrets were, but the word that stood out to me wasn’t bondage or punishment or humiliation or any of the other specifics you gave,” Steven explained, reaching over to the nightstand and picking up a black case that looked like a CD holder. “It was when you said you had fantasies about things. That was the moment I knew that, though you crave your fetishes, you’ve never experienced them. Am I right?”
Taylor nodded slowly, lowering her chin as she tried to wrap her thoughts around where he was headed with this.
“As you drove away from the party, I watched your tail lights until you turned the corner at the end of the street and disappeared,” Steven said, setting the black case on the bed, getting up, walking over to her and kneeling in front of her. “That was when it occurred to me that your fantasies would only ever be in your head. You are too timid of a girl to go through with them. And by not experiencing your desires, you’ll miss out on a lot of waiting enjoyment and happiness.”
Steven reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, beginning to wipe the tear streams from her cheeks. Taylor didn’t know what to think. His words were kind and his actions were kind, but she was kneeling in his closet – naked, bound, gagged and collared.
“So for the next three days, you are going to experience it all,” Steven said, Taylor’s eyes growing big-n-wide as she shook her head no at the suggestion. “All those things you could never bring yourself to do otherwise.”
And that was when she lost her mind. Taylor screamed in his face. And in response, Steven stood up and shut the door in her face. Continuing to scream, she pulled at her hand cuffs, banging her body into the closet walls and thrusting her numbed legs at the back of the closet door. Then Steven suddenly opened up the closet door.
“And if you don’t behave, you’ll get to experience punishment before anything else,” he said, then shutting the door in her face again.
Taylor returned to thrashing and screaming, frantically trying to get free and heaving for air as she exhausted herself. But before she had time to catch her breath, Steven opened the door once more, kneeling down in front of her and raising an eyebrow at her behavior.
“This is not a good way for us to begin. And I’m not gonna tolerate all this noise,” Steven said, holding up a long, pink dildo – Taylor forcing her numbed thighs together in response.
Steven smiled and laughed at her reaction. Then he took hold of her chin and held her jaw still as he slid the tip of the dildo in between her lips. The spider gag kept her mouth open and her lips held in a perfect circle. And as the tip of dildo entered her mouth, Taylor soon realized that her screams were about to come to an end.
“Pretty girls, like you, should be seen not heard,” Steven said, twirling the dildo as he kept slowly sliding it into the confines of her mouth more and more – Taylor’s fussiness coming to a screeching halt as well as she began to realize the restriction of breathing this was going to cause. “But no one is ever going to see how pretty you are until you earn your way out of this closet.”
Steven kept twirling the dildo as its tip reached the back of her mouth and pushed back ever-so-slightly on her tonsils – right at the edge of her gag reflex. Taylor froze in horror.
“And to get out of this closet,” Steven said with that same calm voice as he reached back to the bed for the black case. “… you are going to need to learn to listen and to obey.”
Unzipping the case, Steven opened it and placed it on the floor, allowing Taylor to see the vials of liquid and syringes that were inside it. She mumbled and began to cry again as she watched him pick up one of the needles and slide its point into the rubber stopper of one of the vials. Filling the needle half way with whatever the clear liquid was, Steven held the needle up for her to see.
“I’ve spent my whole lifetime getting injections,” he said, reaching back behind her, plunging the needle into her right bottom cheek and pushing in the stopper. “And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the quickest way to get over a problem is to get to the root of the problem.”
Steven pulled the needle out of her right bottom cheek, Taylor trying to control how hard she was crying for need to breathe through her nose.
“Your problem is that you don’t have courage,” Steven said, wiping the new tears from her eyes with his handkerchief as he put the needle away. “So hopefully, the good girl juice from that needle will help you find some.”
It only took a matter of seconds before Taylor’s head started to spin. Whatever he injected her with worked very quickly. And without any further ado, her nerves seemed to settle, her anxiousness diminished and her fear mellowed to a lower degree she could handle.
“Being forced to do things is a fetish for you because you know you will never have the courage to go through with any of it,” Steven said, placing his thumbs on her eyebrows and tracing them outwards – then beginning to massage her temples exactly as he had done last night. “By the time we both go back to work Monday morning, you will never fear courage again.”
And with that, Steven stood up, walking out of the bedroom and across the upstairs hall – into the bathroom. Taylor looked at herself again in the floor-length mirror across the room. Her body was so numb she couldn’t feel much of any part of it. And the only thing that kept her from collapsing were the handcuffs they held her wrists to the bar above her. She heard water running in the bathroom and though she ought to have been scared to death of what was to come, she really wasn’t. If Steven had the ability to eliminate her apprehensions and help her to experience the fantasies she harbored inside her, then perhaps the mistakes she would make this weekend would be just as good as everything she knew she would get right.
Her head felt like it was spinning in circles and though she hardly noticed, she had begun to drool uncontrollably from the dildo that filled her mouth and tapped her tonsils. Suddenly, her mind was filled with all the possibilities of what was to come as opposed to the horrors of what she would be forced to do.
Steven returned to her, sliding the plastic out from underneath her and wiping the wetness from her knees, shins and insteps. If she hadn’t had a full mouth, Steven would’ve seen she was smiling, just then. Unfastening the handcuffs from the closet bar above her, he knelt down in front of her as she gazed up at him.
“Are you a good girl now?” Steven asked with kindness and calmness in his tone. “And will you behave?”
Taylor nodded gently, her head spinning so much she could hardly remain upright in her kneel. But oh, how he had made her swoon for him again. And oh, how submission seemed even more attractive to her than it did before. It was a little bit of that being forced thing that had just fulfilled her fantasy.
“Now you’re getting the point,” Steven said with a charming timbre.
Grabbing the hair on the top of her head, he forced her down to her hands-n-knees.
“Follow me,” Steven said as he pulled on her locks and made her crawl out of the closet.
Taylor whimpered a mumble, drool pouring out of the corners of her mouth as she did her best to make her numbed arms and numbed legs move for her. But still being duct taped into a kneel, she struggled to keep up with him. Steven pulled harder on her locks, practically dragging her over into the corner of the bedroom.
Attaching the hand cuffs to her collar, he forced her to place her face to the carpet – the flat end of the dildo being pressed into the rug and forcing the tip of the dildo to push back on her tonsils just a bit more. Making her kneel and raise her bare bottom up, Steven began to unfasten the belt at his waist. Taylor whimpered softly, closing her eyes as she knew what was going to happen next.
Steven pulled the leather belt out of his pants loops and folded it in half – taking hold of either end and pulling it taut. An eerie cracking of leather filled Taylor’s ear drums, making her shake – a strong shiver traveling up her spine. She could feel herself trembling, too affected to hide it at all. She was in the most comprising position imaginable. And while romantic interludes of the mind could produce scenarios where she welcomed her current situation, the actuality was that she ushered nothing in – simply having been led there without even knowing it.
Steven placed his left hand on her lower lumbar, Taylor tensing up every muscle in her body – anticipating the first strike. But he was in no hurry. They had all weekend long and he intended to allow every single second to sink into her heart.
CRACK! CRACK! The leather belt connected with the soles of each of her feet. Taylor curled up her toes, scrunching her whole body into a tight ball.
“That’s right, Taylor. You’re small. You’re very small,” Steven said with a calm timbre as he wound his right arm up and swung the belt down swiftly – connecting the leather across the center of both of her bottom cheeks. “And you will stay small.”
CRACK! The leather belt landed squarely across the center of both of her bottom cheeks again, in the exact same spot – causing a pink stripe to appear on the surface of her skin. Taylor whimpered and starting sobbing, her entire bottom feeling the sting – but no spot more so than the spot of injection on her right bottom cheek. It hurt so bad that it felt like a fire had been ignited beneath the surface of her skin. She couldn’t help but begin to crawl forward, getting closer and closer to the corner of the room in a feeble attempt to get further away from the strikes of his belt.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Three more offerings of the leather made the pink stripe across her bottom puff out and begin to redden in hue. Taylor sniffled as quickly as she could, then focusing on drawing in as deep of breaths as she could through her two little nostrils. She was pinned against the corner of the room, curling up into an even tighter little ball. Her body trembled to the point where she couldn’t stop shaking. Her bottom stung as if an entire nest of bees had just stung her.
“You … will … behave for me,” Steven said slowly but with the same kindness in his timbre as always. “If you don’t behave, next time, Daddy won’t just tap you with his belt.”
And with that chilling statement, Taylor froze in place – her tremble having left her and her head spinning even more so with whatever drug he had injected into her. She knelt there in a tight ball and remained motionless for what seemed like an eternity. Steven stopped spanking her but had suddenly disappeared. And for once, curiosity didn’t get the best of her. She didn’t peek behind her to see where he was. She didn’t even open her eyes. And what kept passing through her mind was the thought of what it would feel like when Steven didn’t tap her, but rather, wailed on her with his belt. It was that fear that had created a complete behavior modification within her.
In her time of silence and stillness, she began to piece together how Steven’s lifetime of health concerns had not only given him quite a bit of knowledge about medical treatment, but it had also given him quite a bit of knowledge about pain. The numbness that had plagued her fingers and her toes had disappeared as her nerve-endings re-awakened and made excruciating the pain of the moment.
After what seemed like an hour, Steven returned to the bedroom – making her sit up into a kneel and forcing her nose to touch the wall crease of the corner of the room. Taylor could hear all sorts of things going on behind her, but she couldn’t figure out what he was doing. With a mindset of absolute obedience still fresh in her thoughts, she remained in that position – her legs still duct taped in half, her wrists cuffed to the collar around her neck, a metal spider gag holding her lips open and a long pink dildo filling the wet confines of her mouth, all the way back to her tonsils as she drooled down the front of her body.
What was Steven up to now?
“Part your knees,” Steven said, Taylor parting her duct taped legs as far as she could.
Then Steven parted her throbbing bottom cheeks, placing a fingerful of Vaseline on her rosebud. The tension in her body began to increase as her heart pounded harder.
“Relax yourself,” he said calmly, rubbing her lower back as he touched the end of a small rubber hose to her rosebud. “This will go so much easier for you that way.”
And then he slid the soft rubber hose into her bottom, just far enough for it to stay inside her. It was an enema tube and Taylor whimpered, her drool beginning to make a small puddle on the spot on the rug where she was kissing. Though he hadn’t begun the enema yet, Taylor’s mind was already experiencing it as the test of patience had begun. And while she squatted in that corner, her duct taped legs spread apart and her rosebud pinching down on a rubber hose, Taylor heard the rustling of a diaper.
Oh, my. He was good. He probably didn’t realize how good he was at this. And Taylor couldn’t tell him this – for having a full mouth. But as he began to wrap the diaper around her waist and between her legs, fastening the tapes loosely at her hips, she whimpered with a higher pitch – almost as if to show her approval. Little did she realize how intense Being Steven’s BabyGirl would be for her.
“Kneel up,” Steven instructed, Taylor kneeling up and drawing her legs together as he pushed her as close to the corner as was physically possible for her. “That’s a good girl.”
Patting her diapered bottom, he pressed himself up against the back of her, tucking her locks behind her left ear so he could whisper to her.
“Okay, Taylor,” he whispered, his hot breath traveling down the side of her neck as he hooked the enema bag to the back of her collar. “Be a baby.”
Then he wrapped his right hand around the rubber enema bag and squeezed it, the fluid flowing down the rubber tube and pushing against her clench at her rosebud. The fluid won and she released her muscles as she felt the cool liquid flow into her bowels.
At first, she squirmed at the coolness but then settled with it as it had begun to numb her slightly. That numbness, however, only sedated her for so long as her bowels began to fill more and more with the fluid. Steven kept his squeeze on the rubber enema bag – forcing the flow to continue, much to Taylor’s growing chagrin.
“Be a baby, Taylor. Be a baby,” Steven whispered with tease. “It’s your fantasy and now it’s come true. Other girls fantasize about romantic nights on the beach, drunken and horny. Or they fantasize about the pleasure they find when lying beneath a muscle-bound guy. But you? Aww, my poor little Taylor. You’re so confused. You’re so small. You’re so scared. No wonder you want to be a baby.”
Taylor’s forehead wrinkled, the only facial expression she could currently make while pouting, but she squealed as loudly as she could. The fluid was filling inside her so quickly that it was beginning to make her bowels feel like they were going to erupt.
“That must feel awfully uncomfortable, huh?” Steven asked, wrapping both of his hands around the rubber enema bag and squeezing every drop out of it.
Taylor rocked back-n-forth on her hips, trying to find some way to displace the pain, but to no avail. Her bottom now ached on the inside, just as much as on the outside. And as he drew his fingers down the length of the rubber tube, making certain to get every drop out of it and into her, Taylor was suddenly struck with the knowledge that the only thing keeping the fluid inside her was the rubber tube that currently parted open her rosebud. For as much as she desperately needed relief from the ache, she almost didn’t want him to take the tube out – shuddering at the thought of what would happen when he did.
“BabyGirls are adorable and you will be, too,” Steven said, taking a knife from his pants pocket and cutting the duct tape from her legs.
Standing her to her feet, he pinned her front against the wall as he pulled the lengths of duct tape off her legs. Thank God, she shaved her legs before going to that party last night.
“But BabyGirls are also messy,” Steven said, gripping the back of her hair with his right hand as he wrapped his left forearm around her waist to hold her up since her legs were completely numb. “Sometimes, BabyGirls are messy on the inside and sometimes they are messy on the outside.”
Steven walked her across the room and stood her in front of the floor-length mirror so she could see herself. He stood behind her and held her up as he unhooked the now-empty rubber enema bag from the back of her collar and dropped it to the floor. Then he reached under the elastic leg edging at the back of her diaper, feeling for the rubber tube and beginning to slowly to pull it out of her rosebud. Taylor shook her head no, but Steven smiled – continuing to pull the hose out until its end nestled itself at the opening of her rosebud.
“And sometimes, BabyGirls are messy both in-n-out,” he said as he tugged at the hose and pulled it out of her rosebud, then wrapping both forearms around her waist and whispering in her ear as she watched the image of her helpless frame begin to shake. “It’s okay, baby. Give up and give in. Show Daddy what a mess you are.”
Taylor clenched her rosebud as tightly as she could, trying to double over to prevent the eruption but being held in an upright position by Steven – only making the urgency worse.
“Everything will feel so much better, once you let go,” Steven softly whispered in her ear, encouraging her to release her clench. “You’re small, Taylor. You’re very small. You really can’t handle much at all. And that’s why you’ve never explored any of this. It’s because you know that being a baby isn’t really a fantasy. It’s who you are.”
Tears streamed down Taylor’s face, her mind detaching itself from the moment and then returning her back quickly.
“Cry for me. That’s a good girl. Cry like a baby,” Steven said, Taylor obeying as she felt her clench beginning to give way.
And as she finally gave up, she silenced her whimpers – feeling the overwhelming truth as it erupted out of her and began to fill the back of her diaper.
“Yes, baby. There ya go,” Steven said, reaching behind her and patting her diapered bottom. “Make those cute little noises for me.”
Taylor’s face turned beet red with embarrassment at the same time that dizziness blurred her vision. The release was welcomed, although it was as mortifying as could be for her. Oh, she hated the moment, but at the same time, she loved – so much so that she had craved it more times than she could recall. It was submission, of self, of mind, of worth and of esteem. Turning her to face him, Steven embraced her, pulling her frame close to him as she cried into his chest. And the whole time, he just kept patting her diapered bottom gently – no matter how much it sagged and no matter what noises she involuntarily made.
“You’re very small, Taylor,” Steven whispered calmly and lovingly as he rocked her back-n-forth in his arms. “And now, you’re a baby.”
Steven put his right hand under her chin and lifted her eyes, wiping away her tears.
“You will always be small to me,” Steven whispered, his timbre suddenly re-possessing that same sense of security she felt when talking with him at the party last night. “And you will always follow me, without thinking otherwise.”
And in his gaze, Taylor could see something she hadn’t fantasized about or contemplated deeply before. It was what was on the other side of submission – that equaling dominance that enabled her to be small. Though Steven was her captor, she suddenly saw him as her provider.
Taking the key from his pants pocket, he unfastened the cuff around her left wrist, then taking her left hand and leading her out of the bedroom. As timid and as nervous as could be, Taylor took tiny, rapid steps to keep up with, her diapered bottom waddling and reminding her of the sag between her legs. The numbness of her lower limbs was still diminishing, making her steps a bit wobbly. And as she followed after him, she whimpered at the feel of something unpleasant in her backseat.
All she could hear was her crinkle as she waddled down the hallway, seeing his living room first and then the kitchen. Taking two wobbly steps onto the kitchen linoleum, she froze at the sight of what she saw – a high chair, setting in the middle of the kitchen and prepared to receive her. As she drooled on herself a bit more through another session of whimpering, Steven unfastened the cuff around her right wrist. Taylor turned around and tried to walk back into the hallway to get away from the high chair possibility. But Steven stopped her, grabbing her diapered hips, lifting her up into the air and carrying her over to the high chair.
He set her down in the chair with a padded thud – one that spread out the mess in her backseat just a bit more. Taylor’s face wrinkled up as she whimpered into another bit of crying.
“Oh, what a little baby you are,” Steven said teasingly, locking the handcuffs onto the back legs of the high chair – then tying her ankles to the front legs of the chair. “And you’ve only just begun.”
Steven walked over to the kitchen counter. Taylor sat there, still gagged with a full mouth and now sitting in an unpleasantness that was making mush out of her mind. But what she didn’t see behind her and what her blurry tear-filled eyes couldn’t have focused in on was the lunch she would soon find herself swallowing.
Walking back over to her and fastening the plastic tray to the arms of the high chair, Steven took hold of her chin and held her jaw still as he reached up to her lips and slowly twirled the pink dildo out of her mouth. Taylor gasped for air when it was gone, closing her eyes and delighting in the ability to breathe fully and deeply but still feeling the discomfort of the metal prongs of the spider gag that kept her lips propped wide.
She opened her eyes and looked down at the bowl of tan mush that Steven was stirring a tablespoon through. It didn’t smell like anything she recognized and it didn’t look like anything she wanted to eat. Still, the grumble in her tummy, the one that was there when she awoke in the closet, wasn’t going away. And at the present, nasty mush was better than nothing at all.
Having a positive outlook on it like that seemed like the right train of thought, but after Steven dumped the first spoonful in her mouth, she certainly would’ve whistled a different tune – had she not still been open-mouth gagged. Whatever that hideous sludge was in that bowl, it was flavorless on her tongue but thick with texture. And after she swallowed it, she tasted its hidden flavor of nasty.
So when Steven put the second spoonful in her mouth, she refused to swallow, risking the health of her bottom by resisting, but refusing to swallow, nevertheless.
“Do I need to take my belt off again?” Steven asked with a raised eyebrow. “Or do you need another injection?”
Taylor’s forehead wrinkled as she lowered her chin, hoping the mush would fall out of her mouth before her reflexes made her swallow it. But Steven took hold of her chin and lifted it up.
“If you spit it out, I guarantee you that by the time I’m done with you, you won’t be able to sit without pain for a solid week,” Steven said in a calm but stern voice as he took hold of her left nipple and pinched it. “Swallow it, baby.”
But Taylor still resisted.
“You … will … behave for me,” Steven said slowly and with deliberate tone. “You will learn to obey or you will regret the mistake.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she trembled, swallowing the mush compliantly as she felt the slightest bit of pressure give way from her bladder – a small pee of nervousness that soaked the front of her diaper. His tone suddenly scared her, but for as fearful as it made her, it also contained a bit of control she needed to hear just then, of conformity to what was expected of her. She really was getting the point. It was just taking a bit longer than he had hoped.
From one spoonful to the next, Taylor succumbed to each swallow with a hope that she wouldn’t throw up from the horrible taste. She squirmed around on the high chair as her pee had cooled and the mess was feeling even more unpleasant by the minute. But until that bowl was empty, Taylor kept her gaze on him, looking up at her Daddy and proving that she had what it took to be a good girl for him.
Taking the plastic tray away from the front of the high chair, Steven walked out of the kitchen – leaving Taylor cuffed and tied to the high chair, wearing nothing but a diaper that needed some serious attention at this point and still open-mouthed with that metal spider gag. She looked to her left and then to her right, seeing both of the kitchen windows. No, they weren’t open, but the curtains had been drawn back. There was a street in front of the right window and a sidewalk in front of the left window. And Taylor panicked with a motionless response – hoping that a lack of movement would reduce her chances of drawing the attention of passers-by. Oh my. That would be a little awkward, to say the least.
Thankfully, Steven quickly returned to the kitchen, taking hold of either side of her head and kissing her forehead with such tenderness that she let out a small whimper of happiness and of affection. And for as nasty tasting as it was, her lunch of mush had satisfied her hunger … for the time being.
Unfastening the handcuffs from the back legs of the high chair, Steven then stepped back and picked up a piece of white cloth from the kitchen table. As he held it up, Taylor saw that it was the cutest, laciest little white babydoll nightie she had ever seen. Lifting her arms up in the air, she prepared to be dressed in the nightie. What a sweet gift it was, but she would’ve easily traded it in, just then, for a clean diaper.
Untying her ankles from the front legs of the high chair, he helped her hop down to the floor – her diaper sagging dangerously low on her hips as the mess had spread even further, thanks to her nervous pee. She waddled along carefully as he led her back the hallway, but this time, leading her into his bedroom as opposed to the guest bedroom where she had begun this day. And there, on the far wall, was a crib. How on Earth did Steven have a crib? Watching him walk over to the crib and lower the side, she stared at him with eyes big-n-wide. He couldn’t have been serious? Did he actually want her to climb into it?
Taking no further chances with the health of her bottom, she waddled over and climbed up into the crib – lying on her tummy as he instructed, directly over top of the changing pad he had placed on the mattress. Attaching the hand cuffs to the bars at the head of the crib, he pulled at the tapes on her hips and carefully lowered the back of her diaper. Oh, what an unpleasant feeling. Taylor buried her face in the pillow, not wanting to see or smell any of it.
But he made quick work of the mess, then taking a wash cloth, a sponge and finally some cool wipes to her bottom and between her legs. And … ahhhhh. How much better that felt. It was as if he had just taken every bad thing in her world and done away with it all.
But then he plunged another needle into her bottom, this time in her left cheek. Taylor squealed and tried to move, but Steven pinned her down with a hand to her lower lumbar. And by the time he had put the needle away, Taylor’s head had begun to spin just like it did right after her first injection earlier.
She became very sleep very quickly, but could feel the coolness and smell the sweet scent of baby powder as he coated her bottom with it. Then he got another diaper, unfolding it and placing it flat to her bottom as he spun her over onto her back – her forearms now crossed above her head as her wrists were still cuffed to the crib bars. He powdered her front, from hip to hip and then down between her legs before folding the front of the diaper up and into place. Fastening the tapes at her hips snuggly this time, he then finally removed that metal spider gag from her mouth. With her eyes drooping to half-mast, she wiggled her jaw freely for a few seconds, enjoying the return of mouth movement. Then Steven plunked a pacifier between her lips – one with an enormous rubber nipple in it.
Turning her back over onto her tummy, he tied her ankles to the crib bars on the footboard and covered her with a blanket.
“Nap time, baby,” Steven said softly and sweetly as he tucked her locks behind her ears. “Sleep well and rest up because you’ve got a big night ahead of you.”
Kissing her on the forehead and patting her freshly powdered and diapered bottom through the back of the blanket, he raised the side of the crib and exited the bedroom.
Moments later, Taylor drifted off to sleep.
Steven walked back into the bedroom at about 6pm, wanting to give her as much time to sleep as possible, but also wanting her to be awake, at this point. Taylor lied in her crib, peacefully dreaming but bound by wrist-n-ankle in the exact position she fell asleep in. Oh, she was beautiful.
Steven had always had a crush on her, since the day he first starting working with her. Maybe it was how she carried herself or maybe it was her personality or maybe it was simply the right combination of feminine wiles that rung his bell. Whatever it was about her, Taylor had a natural ability to stand out in a sea of pretty faces. And Steven, one of the many admirers she had, just so happened to be sitting on that balcony last night when Taylor wandered out and opened her heart.
And now, she lied sleeping before him – engaged in dreams that were certainly fueled by the fantasies she was now living, at his hands.
Lowering the side of the crib, he uncovered her, untied her ankles and gently turned her over onto her back. Taylor startled out of her peaceful sleep, opening her eyes and trying to sit up. But her forearms were crossed and her wrists still cuffed to the bars of the crib. With a fuzziness still clogging her mind, she panicked – not knowing where she was. Steven grabbed hold of her crossed forearms with his right hand, holding her down as tears welled in her eyes.
“Shh. Shh. Shhh,” he shushed her, pushing the pacifier back between her lips. “It’s okay. I’m right here. You’re alright.”
Near hyperventilation, she closed her eyes and relaxed – easing back into crib mattress and smiling gently behind her pacifier. The smell of something wonderful being cooked filled the air, making her salivate instantly. Steven tucked her locks behind her ears and then placed his thumbs on her eyebrows – tracing them outward.
“Hello, Taylor,” Steven said softly.
“Hi,” Taylor mumbled behind her pacifier, then laughing gently at herself.
“Did you sleep well?” Steven asked, Taylor nodding and stretching her legs, wiggling a crinkle in her diaper.
Then he reached to the small table, picking up the little baby bottle he had prepared for her a short while ago. Taylor whimpered softly behind her pacifier, seeing the milk it was filled with. But, not awake enough to fight him, she opened her mouth wide when he took the pacifier from her and she took the rubber nipple of baby bottle between her lips. Yeah, it was milk … sort of. Whatever it was, specifically, it certainly tasted better than lunch had.
“That’s a good girl,” Steven said with that calm timbre that not only set her at ease, but was also fast becoming the fuel for other reactions. “Spread your thighs.”
Taylor obediently bowed her legs, her heart skipping a beat with the sudden command. Steven reached down and placed his hand on the front the diaper, then reached inside the elastic leg edgings to find the surprise that she was dry.
“Now I’m beginning to wonder if you’re feeling okay,” Steven said with sweetness, reaching for the top drawer of the little dresser next to the crib.
And from that drawer, he pulled out a digital thermometer – Taylor’s eyes growing big-n-wide as he reached back down between her legs and pulled her diaper to the side. Closing her eyes, she whimpered a tiny squeal as she felt the metal tip of the thermometer enter her rosebud. She wiggled a little, at first, but soon succumbed to it. And yes, she felt small. He didn’t even need to say it this time.
As the thermometer took her temperature, his hand wandered into the back of her diaper, rubbing his fingers gently across both injection spots on her right bottom cheek. Taylor winced at the soreness, then returning back to nursing from the baby bottle.
“You’ve been a very good little learner so far, baby,” Steven teased. “Hmm. Little. That pretty much sums up everything about you, doesn’t it? Except, of course, for how big of a mess you can make.”
His teasing words went straight to her heart, her closed eyes welling with tears as she nursed from the baby bottle.
“Aww. It’s okay, baby. You’ll get used to making a mess of yourself for me,” Steven said with kindness so sweet it was tormenting to hear. “And after a while, you’ll find yourself becoming a mess without even realizing it was going to happen.”
Taylor opened her teary eyes, seeing him reaching into his pants pocket and taking out a pink anal plug. But the anal plug had a hollowed-out center and her wiggly crinkles became a full-out fidget, Steven smiling at her worry.
“It’s okay,” Steven said, reaching over and setting the anal plug on the bed as he picked something else up. “You’ll feel that plug tomorrow and maybe again on Sunday. Even on days when you don’t feel like being submissive, you will be. Otherwise, punishment awaits. But the rewards I think you’ll find incredible.”
The thermometer beeped, Steven taking it out of her rosebud and reading it. “Yep. Just as I expected. … you’re hot.”
Taylor finished the bottle and released the nipple from her lips, then letting out a small burp. Steven placed her pacifier back in her mouth and then flipped up the front of her little white babydoll nightie. Taylor locked into a gaze with him and softly whimpered the same lustful thought he was having.
Being a baby, being a submissive and actually experiencing it had not only sparked her passions of innocence, but also of passions far less innocent.
Steven placed his left hand on her abdomen, then moving his hand under the lower hem on her white babydoll nightie. Taylor shifted her hips, crinkling a little as she relaxed her frame into the crib mattress. It was as if she had just completely melted before him. She held no tension and no resistance and the look in her eyes showed a different craving – one that gazed up at him, specifically for the first time ever.
“That’s my baby,” Steven whispered softly, his hand traveling up onto her tummy, Taylor shrinking her shoulders up and making the front of her nightie loose for his wandering hand to travel beneath.
And as his left hand wandered onto and cupped her right breast, Taylor pulled her shoulders back – heaving her chest up at him.
“There’s something I’ve always wanted to know about pretty girls,” Steven asked, his fingertips circling her areola. “Do you know that you’re beautiful? I mean … do you know how good you look?”
Taylor shook her head no, the temperature of her skin rising with each moment.
“You’re beautiful when you smile because you show happiness. You’re beautiful when you ignore people because you show your choices. You’re beautiful when you shy away from compliments because you show modesty,” Steven said, Taylor laughing softly behind her pacifier.
Then, Steven pinched her right nipple, bending it down and rolling it between his fingertips. Taylor’s forehead wrinkled and she shifted in her lay. He kept pinching her nipple as he pulled the front of her nightie up, exposing her chest.
“And you’re beautiful when you cry because you show that you can feel pain,” Steven said with calmness. “All you can be is beautiful. You don’t know anything else. That’s why punishment is a fetish for you as well. Unless it really hurts.”
He pinched her nipple harder, Taylor closing her eyes and biting into the rubber nipple of her pacifier.
“Sometimes punishment isn’t really about the pain, though, huh?” Steven asked, releasing her right nipple from his fingertips and holding up a Hitachi wand – that thing he picked from the bed when he set the anal plug down. “And sometimes, punishment is really a reward.”
Turning the Hitachi wand on, Steven watched her relaxed lay turn to a fidgety twitch. Apparently, this wasn’t the first time she had heard that vibrating buzz. That wasn’t really a surprise, but it was one that intrigued him quite a bit. Touching the tip of the wand to her right nipple, Steven listened to her whimper behind her pacifier as the pain of being pinched met the vibrations of a much more wonderful feeling.
Circling the wand around her areola, he watched her nipple puff up and turn hard – as if the room had become very chilly.
“But perhaps there’s nothing more beautiful than watching a girl slowly lose control of herself,” Steven said, traveling the vibrating tip of the wand across her cleavage and onto her left breast. “The pain may come from no longer possessing modesty. After all, how is a pretty girl supposed to act, if she has no modesty? That’s a painful thought, but the pleasure may come from doing one more thing on this day that you’ve never done before…”
Steven traveled the tip of the wand down off her left breast to her sternum, then down her belly and onto the front of her diaper, pausing the trail when he reached the spot that made her tremble.
“… Lose,” Steven said, completing his thought as he turned the wand up and pressed the end of the tip into the diaper – vibrations traveling into her hood.
Tears welled in Taylor’s eyes as she saw submission, for the first time, with full meaning. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, holding the pacifier tightly between her lips as she tried to control her breathing. But her resistance began to fade immediately. Vibrating wands were the tools of nearly instant orgasms … or very quick ones, if not instant.
“It’s time to lose, Taylor,” Steven said, watching her breathing become erratic and her entire frame begin to tremble.
With short gasps for air, she left out several soft moans, each finding rhythm with her crinkly, rocking hips. She could hardly stay still at all on that crib mattress. And, had her forearms not been crossed above her head – her wrists not cuffed to the bars of her crib, she likely would’ve pulled herself away from the intensity.
“You’re very small, Taylor. It’s all you can be,” Steven whispered, his right hand holding the tip of that wand to the front of her diaper and his left hand cupping her between the legs. “And you’re becoming a mess again, baby. How beautiful.”
Her body began to seize, the muscles in her core tightening, her wetness layering her labia and her swell puffing out.
“Show Daddy what you’ve learned today,” Steven said with a syrupy-rich tone of tease as he pressed in between her legs with his fingertips. “Show Daddy why you’re tied down.”
Tears streamed from her eyes as her canal tightened in preparation for the ripples of pleasure to pour out of her, but right at that moment when her orgasm was ready to arrive, he cut her pleasure off – taking the Hitachi wand away from the front of her diaper but still cupping her between her legs.
Taylor looked up at him with a pleading helplessness in her eyes, almost begging him to complete her pleasure, but he didn’t – instead kneeling down alongside her and placing his thumbs on her eyebrows, tracing them outwards. And then he kissed her forehead.
“You will need to show continued obedience before you get the full reward,” Steven said, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Make Daddy proud.”
He stood up and patted her between her legs, Taylor certainly feeling small at that moment. And then he walked out of the bedroom, leaving her with an unsatisfied heart – full of want. Every receptor had been tripped. Every sensitive spot had been affected, both on her body and in her mind, but there had been no orgasm and therefore, no afterglow. And therefore, no ecstasy – no memories to collect and revisit at a later time. There was nothing but the lack of completion to occupy her thoughts. So she lied there, still cuffed at the wrists and dripping wet between her legs. Turning over onto her stomach, she buried her face in the pillow and sobbed. It seemed unfair and cruel – that little piece of submission that she hadn’t quite figured out yet, the part where she didn’t get all that she wanted.
After a few minutes of feeling sorry for herself, she then focused in on the reality of the moment. She was lying in a crib, nursing on a pacifier, crinkling in a diaper, filled with sensations and emotions of one single day of her life that had started out with fear but had quickly turned into a day she would never forget – for all the right reasons. And behind all of it had been Steven.
She might well have been so foolish as to have opened up to Roger. And if she had, where would she have been at that point? Catering to his every whim as she waited on him, hand and foot? Or perhaps clutching the headboard of his bed as he used her body to pleasure himself with no regard for her?
No, she really didn’t have any reason to feel sorry for herself. She just needed to give herself the time to learn. And Steven was being very good about giving her that time. As much as she needed and … ironically … as much as she wanted.
A short while later, Steven returned, uncuffing her wrists from the bars of the crib and patting her diapered bottom to climb out of the crib. And when she did, he cuffed her wrists to the collar around her neck. Maybe to other girls it might’ve seemed demeaning or strange to be literally kept under lock-n-key, but to Taylor, it meant the world. She was not only his captive, but she was also captivated by him, as his possession, as his play toy, as his passion and as his BabyGirl.
Leading her out of the bedroom, Steven directed her to the kitchen, Taylor crinkling her little diapered bottom alongside him as she expected to see the high chair again. But instead, what she saw was a candle lit dinner – sitting on the table: steaks, greens beans, wine – all the fixings of something wonderful.
At the end of the table was a small pillow, lying on the kitchen floor. Without thinking twice about it, Taylor waddled over and knelt down on it – knowing it to be her place and wanting nothing more than to kneel at his feet. There was a constant to all of this that seemed to make it flow easily for her, from one moment to the next.
Kneeling on that small pillow, she watched Steven place one of the steaks on a plate and begin to cut it up into small pieces. Smiling sweetly behind her pacifier, she blushed at what he was doing and then laughed softly. Oh, he was anything but boring. That was for sure. And for someone who was an office heartthrob while remaining an enigma, Steven continued to surprise her with how charming he was, how powerful of a presence he actually had and how he was anything but shy in real life.
Leaning forward, she rested her chin on the edge of the kitchen table as she placed her fingers on the edge of the table, too. Gazing up at him with puppy dog eyes, she awaited the meal – having salivated over it quite a bit since he woke her up. But Steven just kept cutting the meat, pretending not to see her but having trouble keeping a grin from forming on his face. And when he was done cutting the meat, he put a small amount of the green beans on her plate, sliding it over to her and plunking the pacifier out of her mouth.
Crossing her eyes at him and picking up a green bean, she put it in her mouth and crunched away, playing his game.
“May I ask you a question?” Taylor asked, the expression on her face showing that she was in the mood for playfulness, but also that curiosity was getting the best of her.
“Yes,” Steven replied, picking up a piece of the steak with his fork and putting it in her mouth, Taylor then smiling as she quickly chewed and swallowed it.
“Why are you quieter than a mouse at work?” Taylor asked, Steven then sliding his chair back and patting his lap.
Taylor stood up and plopped her diapered bottom down on his left thigh as he then unlocked the hand cuffs so she could lower her wrists from her collar.
“Work is how I make a living,” Steven answered, handing her the fork so she could dig into the steak. “I don’t go there to live. But rest assured, I pay attention to everything that’s going on around me.”
“Really?” Taylor asked, tilting her head to the side. “Tell me some things you’ve noticed at work … some subtle things.”
“Okay,” Steven said, thinking about it as Taylor kept eating the tiny bites of steak. “Robert, the egocentric stud, has never been with a woman in his life.”
“What?!” Taylor asked, stunned beyond belief. “How do you know that?”
“Because the truth comes out of him when he’s had too much to drink,” Steven said, picking up his glass of wine and sipping from it. “He has no self-esteem at all and you must promise me you’ll never tell a soul why if I state the reason.”
“I promise,” Taylor said, taking the glass of wine from him and sipping from it.
“He has an inability to … get erect,” Steven said, Taylor’s eyes growing big-n-wide. “He’s had the problem his whole life. And I think the reason might have a bit to do with his denial of preference.”
Taylor tilted her glass back and drank the rest of it as she could hardly believe what he just said. Then she set it down and filled it up again.
“Roger, on the other hand, is so well-endowed, he would probably make you hurt,” Steven continued, Taylor’s jaw dropping wide open. “His lack of charm comes from the fact that, despite his impressive endowment, he’s never lasted longer than 30 seconds when having sex. And that is what’s always on his mind when he tries to act normal around women. His fear is that, even if he did get them into bed, they would laugh at how quickly he came.”
“And how do you know that?” Taylor asked, drinking from the glass of wine.
“Well, on the night that Robert confessed his virginity, Roger, who was just as drunk, tried to consoled Robert and made his confession, too,” Steven said, smiling as he watched Taylor knock back another glass of wine – then filling it again.
“Tell me something you’ve noticed about me,” Taylor said, filling the glass again and beginning to enjoy this bit of gossip a lot.
“Something about you? Let’s see …,” Steven said, pausing to think about it. “You thrive on competition. That goes without saying, but you only get competitive when you feel that you won’t likely win the battle.”
“And why do I do that?” Taylor asked, Steven taking the glass of wine from her.
“Because it isn’t really competition for you unless you know you’ll have to try,” Steven answered, Taylor’s jaw dropping open at how correct he was about her.
Tipping the wine glass up and raising Taylor’s chin, he made her drink the rest of it. And with a simple pat to the back of her diaper, he made her stand to her feet – only then to grab her arms to steady her as the multiple glasses of wine had done what he hoped they would … making her tipsy.
Taking her by the hand, he grabbed hold of the kitchen chair he had been sitting on and led her into the middle of the living rug. The moment she walked in, she gasped at the sight of that little black case sitting on the coffee table – the one with the needles in it. Steven set the chair in the middle of the living room and made her stand behind it. Then he bent her over it, the back of the chair digging into her midriff as he stretched her arms down to the chair’s front legs – fastening the hand cuffs on her wrists to the lowest rung of the chair.
Taylor watched him walk over to the little black case, unzipping it and getting out a needle. With a wine-buzzed head that was also suffering from a rush of blood, she kept blinking her eyes to keep the blurriness from setting in. And though she did her best to not tremble, fear had gripped her once more.
Steven walked around behind her and pulled up on the back of her diaper, exposing her left bottom cheek as he plunged the needle into her. Taylor froze in place, biting her bottom lip as she tried not to cry aloud. And when he took the needle out of her bottom cheek, he began to tap at the inside of her ankles – forcing her to spread her feet apart as far as possible.
Hearing him unfastening his belt, her heart rate picked up as her head spun for now a third reason. And with a mixture of wine, the rush of blood and whatever drug he had been injecting her with, Taylor was grateful for having been cuffed to that chair. Without it, she likely would’ve collapsed to the floor. She had pieced together that another spanking of discipline was about to happen, but there was no way she could’ve known how spent she would’ve been by the end of it, how drained she would become and how vulnerable she would be when he was through with her.
“Those needle marks will go away, baby,” Steven said, folding his leather belt in half as he walked behind her and patted her diapered bottom. “You won’t always be sore from them. In fact …”
Then he sudden pulled the belt tight between his hands, the crack of his leather echoing off the living room walls.
“In fact, you will never have any marks that remain … at least not on the surface,” he said, placing his left hand on her lower lumbar. “But there is a pride in wearing your marks that will remain with you for quite some time to come. And whenever I see that glimmer of pride fading in your eyes, that tells me you need new marks to be proud of.”
And with that, he raised his right hand up and swung down with the belt – connecting the leather with the very lower edge of the back of her diaper and the very top of the back of her thighs. Taylor sunk her teeth into her tongue, closing her eyes and wincing as she tightened all the muscles in her legs. The first strike was always the worst. She was certain of this because it struck skin that was unaffected, until just then.
CRACK! The belt landed just a bit lower on the back of her thighs, again striking unaffected skin and making her knees bend in a hopeless effort to get away from the stinging pain. The beginning always seemed to have the most lasting effect, too. Either numbness or the callous effect would soon set in, but not before she felt how weak she was when compared to his leather.
CRACK!! The belt landed on the back of her right thigh, making her lean that way and favor that leg.
CRACK!!! The belt landed on the back of her left thigh, making her stand back up straight.
She could feel a heat rising up off the back of her legs, almost as if her skin had a fever. And the sting spread evenly, from the top of the back of her thighs – all the way down to the back of her knees … her body’s way of trying to displace the intensity of the pain. But she could feel the welts forming already.
CRACK!!!! The belt landed on the top of the back of her thighs yet again, with even more force than before.
CRACK!!!!! The belt landed one length down from its previous strike as it began to feel like her skin had broken open.
Taylor had managed to keep her lips sucked in, up to that point. But, as with every difficult moment of life – whether physical or emotional – she began to cry. At first, it was just silent tears that streamed down her face. But with each passing second, her need to breath heavier increased. And with an open mouth, she began to sob. She had gotten the point and once again, her behavior had been readjusted to focusing in on submission. But the problem was: she hadn’t found a way to get beyond the point.
And then Steven began delivering a rattling barrage of strikes – one right after the other as he bruised every inch of the back of her thighs she would use when sitting down. By the time he stopped to catch his breath, Taylor could no longer stand on her feet. And she could do nothing but cry uncontrollably. Uncuffing her wrists from the chair, he eased her down to sit on the living room rug – sliding the chair out of the way as he embraced her. She hugged him back, clinging to him with such force that it seemed she needed him that close to her in order to survive the moment.
Easing her down onto her back, he tucked her locks behind her ears. Wiping the streaming tears from her face, he then placed his thumbs on her eyebrows – tracing them outward as he then took hold of her wrists and cuffed them to her collar once again. She followed his movement, turning her head to the side to see him reach under the coffee table next to her. He picked up two lengths of rope, bending her knees and tying her legs in half – just as they were when she awoke that morning in the closet. And though the pressure put against the back of her thighs was excruciating, her attention was kept by what else was sitting under that coffee table.
There was a roll of duct tape and that wonderful Hitachi wand. Still trying to collect herself, Taylor puzzled over what he was doing. Was he going to tie her up and tease her again with the wand or was there a new trick up his sleeve?
Her head was so dizzy from wine and injections and the displacement of pain that she really couldn’t piece it together, not even when he parted her legs and had her place the soles of her feet together. Picking up the wand and putting it between the soles of her feet, she watched as he duct taped her feet tightly. Then repositioning her lower body a bit, he turned the wand on.
Taylor’s eyes grew big-n-wide as she stared up at the ceiling. The vibrating tip of that wand had not only been made to touch the front of her diaper in the right place, but it had been pressed tightly into that position. And once again, the nearly instant orgasm maker was already working its magic.
Though a lot of moments that day had brought her close to tingling in all the right places, it wasn’t until Steven began that physical stimulation for her that she finally moved her thoughts in that direction. It was almost as if he was telling her that it was okay to feel good in that manner. And as she smiled up at him, she did indeed tingle in the right place, feeling small – for all she had just been put through.
And that tingle, the initial awakening, was quickly followed by a small puff – a swell that differed from that on the back of her thighs, but still caught her attention and kept it. And then there was that fluttering in her tummy, the predecessor to a slight shuddering and the return of wetness between her legs. Her arousal was quickly resuming and this time, its return came with a vengeance to capture what it had been denied just a short time ago.
Before any more time passed, the vibrations had brought her to a fussiness for its rapid effect and she wiggled as much as she could in an attempt to get away from the fast-approaching intensities. It was only then she realized she had been bound in such a way that she couldn’t get away from anything at all, whether arousing or disciplining or embarrassing. Now, she was truly captured.
Taylor twitched as little pings of enjoyment continued awakening all her senses. She trembled as one sensation was followed by another in a continuous pace. And she shook as her mind tried to clear itself of the fogginess of wine and injections and punishment.
But nothing was going to serve as an effective distraction at this point. Soon, she whimpered – trying to thrust her hips up and force her diapered mound into the wand. But all she heard was the crinkle of her diaper, the vibration of the Hitachi wand and the pulse of her heavily-beating heart as it echoed in her eardrums. Closing her eyes, she willingly submitted to the impulses – arching her lower back and heaving her chest up at the pleasure that was forming in her core.
Suddenly, her body seized up, even catching her off guard as she whimpered at the tightness her canal had contracted to. And as the first ripple of pleasure poured out of her center, washing over her entire frame and re-intensifying as the second ripple arrived – Taylor moaned.
She lied there, trying to save modesty, but happily failing once again. And helplessly, she came in her diaper, humiliating herself with guttural moaning as each tightening released a little more pleasure. Quickly, she reached the summit and when ready to balloon down, she realized that her stay in ecstasy would be prolonged as the wand forced her to remain there longer than her body could stand.
Gazing up at Steven, she contemplated begging him to take the wand away, but thinking better of her weakness than to do that, she allowed the orgasm to extend beyond her steady moans – leading her into full-chested screams that would eventually mute her as her voice worked into a hoarse condition.
Spent for all her energy, Taylor eased her body flat as the wand kept pulsing vibrations into her core. And it was then that she gained a deeper understanding of submission – not that which she wanted to give, but rather, that which Steven would take from her. She would lie there for several more minutes, practically paralyzed – save for the sporadic twitching until he finally turned the Hitachi wand off.
Steven took the duct tape off her feet, untied her legs and uncuffed her wrists from her collar. Scooping her limpened frame up into his arms, he carried her over to the couch and took a seat, turning the TV on and holding her. Taylor turned her body towards him resting against his chest and breathing in his scent. For as conscious as a girl was to smelling sweet, there was something to be said for what the scent of a man could do to her essence. Above and beyond the physical connection, there might well have not been anything she craved more so than to breathe him in deeply.
He kept his left forearm behind her, holding her firmly against him. But his right hand he pressed against the front of her diaper, gently massaging that spot the tip of the wand had connected with. Taylor remained somewhat lifeless in his arms – save for the small aftershocks that a little pressure from his fingers could draw out of her. Even though she felt completely spent, she was learning there was always a little more left within her to give … whenever her Daddy took it.
And there they both remained for quite some time, Taylor lightly resting her eyes and Steven watching over her. Everything seemed right and more importantly, it felt right. Her head was fuzzy from the drugs. Her body was achy from the spanking but satisfied from the orgasm, at the same time. And it was this gentle aftercare that was the most loving memory she would have of that first day with him.
At about 11pm, Steven turned the TV off and carried her back to the bedroom. But she wouldn’t be sleeping in her crib that first night. Instead, she would learn what it felt like to sleep next to him, by his side where she belonged. And what this meant was: she would learn what it felt like to wake up next to someone she believed she was falling in love with.
Needless to say, Taylor was hooked. It was only Friday night and there would be two more days of her captivity. But she had gotten the point. And as he tied her down to the bed for the night, prepping her next needle for the morning, she knew she would get the point again tomorrow. But the challenge wasn’t to get the point anymore. It was now to get beyond the point.
………………….. The ABDL Twisted BooksIf you like these books, you may want to check out: The Dark Age Play Series