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My College Babies - Part 2
🕑 Added 2023-04-04 12:26:38 +0000 UTC
That’s the problem with these boys. When they first get here, they do not think about what they are asking for and how it impacts them.
They only think about what’s happening at the moment. Like an infant, they’re only thinking about what’s directly in front of them, in that moment that will give them pleasure. That's the thinking I need to erase from their minds so they can grow up again.
Brandon was one of those such babies.
But he would learn eventually.
Brandon was in the crib for about three hours, getting used to what it felt like to be a true baby, a true infant left at the whims and desires of mommy. As I watched him mess his diaper for the second time in the crib over the past hour, I figured it was time to see what he was trying to muffle out through that pacifier that was tied tight against his mouth.
I had used a bulb that was extra large, forcing him to drool over the corners of his mouth making sure he was wet outside his cheeks with his own drool. It added to the baby effect.
It was funny, seeing him realize that the pacifier added to his infantile humiliation.
When I entered the nursery, the baby tried to crane his neck in my direction to see who I was, to make sure I had heard him. He was crying with relief when I walked over to the crib and checked his diaper. I made sure to squeeze the front and back of the diaper a few times to make sure the mess sunk in.
As my fingers rustled against the thick plastic, I asked him if he wanted a change.
He nodded aggressively.
“Are you sure?” I asked, looking him dead in the eyes.
I noticed each time I squeezed his diaper, his eyes got wide. I saw instant discomfort with each squeeze. I had to admit, this brought me joy. It always did. For the boys who were in chastity, I knew this provided intense frustration of their situation. They could hardly feel my squeezing as they shuddered in sexual frustration. They poor little members were just starved at this point, not knowing when they’d be released for the final… release.
The boys who were not locked nearly came on the spot.
But they wouldn’t be cumming anytime soon. I am an expert in making babies, and babies don’t cum.
Brandon nodded again, confirming that he’d do anything for a change.
I smiled sweetly at him, releasing the diaper from my grasp. “Okay, let’s get you all changed.”
The relief on Brandon’s face was instant. In all fairness, I was leading him on. I always led these babies on. Telling them how good they were going to feel when I got their soggy diapers off of them.
Telling them how I had a little surprise waiting for them.
Telling them how they were going to love what happened next because they didn't even know they wanted it.
And then it would happen. I’d text her to come into the room.
When Joyce entered the room, Brandon nearly messed his diaper again.
This part of the baby's stay takes significant work and planning.
Remember when I told you I asked them about everything, every little detail of their mundane lives to make sure that I could dominate them completely and fully? That included finding out where they hang out, who they hang out with and what they do on the weekends.
I’m not saying that I have a group of girls on campus who report back their extracurricular activities back to me and I match the notches on their bedposts to my client list, but I have eyes everywhere.
Joyce knew Brandon. She had seen him at the bar grinning with his friends that stupid, I just fucked a cheerleader grin he always had during parties where he got a little too drunk. She’d simply walked past him and made sure to make the eye contact that would haunt his dreams.
Brandon ate it up, spending the rest of the night doing his best to try and make eye contact with her the rest of the night. By the time they reconnected, Joyce, in her stunning green dress, let him stroke her heart. She let him lean in close and whisper the sweet nothings in her ear and let him take her back to his tiny, dilapidated, university apartment.
Joyce moaned when Tyler aggressively mounted her. She reached back and guided him in with her warm, soft hands. Joyce did that thing where she looked backwards at him as he was midtrust and made eye contact that was sure to make him cum harder than he ever had in his life. Joyce flexed her muscles while staring, unblinkingly at him, trapping his hard penis inside of her, making sure he felt every ridge, every bump, every bit of the inside of her that he craved.
When he came, it was like draining the life from him. He jerked several times, like Samson as if the strength was being drained from his body into the condom that was filling quickly. When she was done with him, she let him go, turned around and grabbed his hard dick.
“Now you need to do what I want,” she said, tugging off the condom and taking a look at it.
When she told him he was going to drink his own cum, Brandon shook his head and said no. Pouting a bit, Joyce insisted that one of these days it was going to happen rather he liked it or not. Brandon, already feeling the post fucking naptime that generally greeted him after a good fucking, just laughed.
Joyce just smiled and said maybe next time.
But today, in the nursery, Barndon was not fucking her from behind. He was tied to the bed, his packed pampers on full display to Joyce, laying helpless and at her every whim.
“Hello Brandon,” Joyce said sweetly.
I always told the girls to make sure they greet the client by their proper names. To reinforce how trapped they are inside of this situation. When you work with a toddler, you say their names over and over so they can remember what it is. This was no different. Joyce would remind Baby Brandon that she knew who he was.
Sitting down on the side of the bed, Joyce reached over and patted the front of his diaper. As I watched, the horror on the baby’s face was clear. He’d never dreamed he’d be in this situation during our session and was completely embarrassed that this was even happening.
I mean, think about it. Just days ago, he was having his way with this woman. He was thrusting like a man. But now, she was in charge. And he was tied down in the most humiliating way possible.
“Does the baby need his diaper changed?” Joyce asked, cupping her hand beneath the diaper and pushing upwards. This had the added benefit of making the mess smoosh itself against the boy's lower regions. Brandon was in chastity. He’d get no relief from this movement and we all know it.
Brandon was quiet. He was obviously too mortified to speak.
“I guess not then.”
That's when we all saw it. The panic in his face that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted. What he needed.
Joyce made the show of reaching to pull the bedsheets back over the oversized baby in the crib. But Brandon just started to cry.
He needed this badly.
He made a garbled noise from behind the pacifier.
“What was that?” Joyce asked innocently.
The man baby gurgled again, begging for a change.
Feigning ignorance, Joyce gasped and pulled the pacifier from his mouth and asked him to repeat himself.
The poor kid didn’t know what to do, torn between the self humiliation he was about to be subjected too in front of the woman he had just “taken to the sheets” the night before or having to lie in his mess for a few more hours until I agreed to give him the change he needed.
He realized he had lost this one.
“I need a change please,” he said quietly.
“You need me to change what?”
I grinned watching this scene unfold in front of me. She’d learned a valuable lesson from working with me over the last year. All of these things were humiliating. But even more so when uttered out loud.
“I need my diapers changed, please.” the baby said.
I smiled wide as Joyce made him repeat himself. Made him tell her exactly what he had done in his diapers, and what he needed her to do because he was only a baby after all.
Brandon glared at her, but was trapped. “I messed my diaper… please… I need a change… a diaper change.”
The kid was crying at this point. His legs kicking against the restraints and diaper crinkling. But Joyce kept speaking in this calm, sweet tone, softly patting the boys packed pampers, reminding him of his predicament.
Joyce would eventually change the baby, making him crawl over to the changing table, next to the busy window and revealing the mess he made to the room. Every step of the change she would make sure she was commanding Brandon telling him what to do, a direct juxtaposition to the pounding he had given her just days before. While before she was the one at his mercy, following instructions, receiving the heat, right now, Brandon was the one in subby position, receiving the pounding from her.
“If you keep squirming, I’m going to have to spank you,” Joyce said once the baby was fully cleaned. She had already unfolded a brand new diaper and taken her time revealing it to Brandon.
“I bet you want me to put this one on you,” Joyce said, crinkling the diaper and fluffing it out. As she watched, Brandon stopped wiggling around and locked his eyes on both her and the diaper.
This always happens at this moment. The kids who come into the house get really excited for the diaper change by the woman who had given him some of his favorite vanilla sex. There’s something about knowing she’s about to bring your fantasies to life, that causes a major juxtaposition in their minds, causing them to forget the humiliating experience they just went through. They forget the part where they were just seen in a messy diaper by someone they’d just manhandled. They forget the enema, they forget the mirror room, they forget the window.
But in a moment, I had a tactic that would make sure my babies would not keep this feeling for long. The reality is, now, every time Brandon saw Joyce, he’d no longer see her as a woman to dominate, he’d see her as the mommy figure he needed. And he’d start to need her every single time he wanted to ever get pleasure again.
All it takes is a little squeezing the prodding, but the chastity cage always goes on after a while. Naturally, we tie the baby down to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. We usually do this right before the change when they feel safe and cared for.
But no matter how hard they struggle, kick and scream, the cage will go on. And it will stay on. Of course they get banned from the nursery for two weeks to adjust to the chastity cage. And during those two weeks Joyce demands they show how serious they are about being a good baby. Because they want to be a good baby right? They want to prove to mommy and their little girlfriend that they can be obedient boys? That’s what they wanted right?
That means, anywhere on campus, at any time, Joyce and her friends can diaper check my babies. Ask them to show their diapers to her. And we make it pretty clear: If you’re not wearing the diaper, we’ll just extend the punishment another week.
One of my babies ended up an entire semester locked without relief because his little girlfriend caught him at beach week without a diaper on. Good thing Chloe always carried extras with her. Getting a diaper change on the beach is easy, doing it with all your friends watching is harder.
But Joyce came up an idea that is ingenious. She offers the boy a deal. If he can be a good boy for the rest of the session, he might be able to get the cage off. Any pre-law major would know this sentence is complicated. But the babies who stared in horror at their trapped penises as the diaper was folded over them were too preoccupied to even think about that.
I have the baby crawl back over to crib where there is a high chair sitting in the corner. During the change, I've added a few jars of baby food and some baby bottles to the tray. Naturally, to make sure the baby couldn't get into any trouble, we tied locking mittens to the baby's hands. Besides, feeding the baby was always fun. You could miss his mouth sometimes to add to the humiliation.
When the baby is fully in the chair, we feed the baby each bit of food, jar by jar.
Brandon, like all the other charges, ate as quickly as possible, determined to free himself from the device that squeezed the life out of his penis. I'd watch as he tried his best to eat the food without complaint, the mashed peas mixed with chicken liver was disgusting, but the baby wanted relief.
Once he was finished, Joyce guided the bloated baby to the crib to finish the bottles.
The moment was do intimate, the baby resting his head in her arms, cradled softly against her chest, while she prepared the bottle.
First, she opened the top of the bottle while, I haded her a plastic bag. By now the baby was noticing what was happening and watched as I fished out a used condom from the bag and emptied its contents into the bottle.
Brandon's eyes went wide.
"Remember what I said the other night baby?" Joyce asked holding the now ruined milk bottle to the babies mouth.
Brandon started to struggle, squirm against Joyce's firm hands, trying to get away from the bottle.
But Joyce was firm. "Do you want to do what mommy says?" The rubbing on the front of the diaper, causing phantom pain as Brandon's penis tried in vein to get hard only made her taunting worse.
After half an hour, most babies finally accept the bottle. Cringing as the bottle goes down, drink by drink, sucking as hard and fast as they can to get it over with. Brandon only lasted ten. He was weak.
That's why he needed a firm mommy.
But when he finished the bottle and we cooed and smiled at him, he locked the doors to the crib and told him he would be spending the night. He could leave, diapered and clean tomorrow morning.
Usually, by now, the babies would demand their orgasm. Saying they did everything we said. Some started crying at the realization of what was happening. They knew they'd never get to cum at this point and there was no use on even asking for it.
Joyce just turned off the light and lowered the shades in the room and left the baby in there to stew.
They'd cry, sob, moan, kick the bars. But they were not getting out.
I'd pay Joyce and send her on her way.
The nursery music that played in the room mocked the babies. Reminded them they were trapped. Reminded them they were mine.
The music reminded them that all they have to do is follow my instructions and they’ll be fine. They'd learn to be the good babies the world needs, that they desire.
All they have to do is be good little babies and they’ll be fine.
The nursery is always open.
And you can come by anytime.
Comments
Ruby Teagan
Great story!! Something about it gives me Hotel California vibes.
