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Forty-Eight Hours: Part One
🕑 Added 2022-02-22 03:05:38 +0000 UTC
Part One: The Morning
Richard only woke up because he felt a deep pressure inside of him. His mind slowly rushed out from his deep sleep and alerted the rest of his body that he needed to wake up and address the need inside him.
Richard sat up and instantly felt pain from his forehead.
Ouch.
It was as if he had hit his head on something. Richard went to grab his head to soothe the pain, but he couldn't move his fingers. He blinked a few times and realized it was because his hands were encased in mittens, soft, baby pink mittens.
He rubbed his head with the mittens and looked up to see what he had banged his head-on. Richard saw the problem. It was the lid on the cage he was inside of. If we were being specific, it was a crib with a lid.
Richard shook the crib a bit to try and test his surroundings, but his mind already knew the truth; there wasn't a way to escape his predicament. This was the first day of the deal he had made with mommy, the agreement he had made with the woman he loved. Richard blinked a few times and lay back down, resigning himself to what his brain knew all along.
Richard had a choice to make.
Richard looked around the room and examined his surroundings. Sure there was a pacifier strapped into this mouth; it was a condition of his overnight stay in the nursery. Indeed, this room was on the first floor of the house, to the left of the front door, where the light of the day flooded the room. There were light curtains that never seemed to close that provided minimal refuge from the street.
If Richard craned his neck, he could see the people walking by going on about their lives, unaware that just a few feet inside the house, there was a 31-year-old man in double diapers who was feeling a few cramps in his abdomen.
Yes, Richard was wearing two diapers, a PeekAbu that had been carefully cut several times before a MegaMax was wrapped on top of it to help Richard settle in for the night.
Richard looked around the room and examined the familiar setting he often found himself in. The shelves were lined with bottles and stacks of diapers. The room looked like a pastel paint can had exploded inside of it, with everything reeking with the softness you'd expect in a nursery for an infant. There was even a nightlight in the corner shaped like the moon that, when it was dark, cast a gentle pulsing light in the room for scared children who might be afraid of the dark.
To be clear, Richard wasn't afraid of the dark. He hadn't been since he was probably two years old. Not even the lights flickering during a blackout bothered him. But the rules were simple, being a baby in the house means full baby, no shortcuts.
Richard was more of a diaper lover than anything else. He'd been the one to have built the nursery in his spare time during his years as a single bachelor. When he had met Claire, his current girlfriend, he had always kept the door locked, so no one could go inside and see what he had built, hidden from the world. Back then, the nursery was just stacks and stacks of diapers lined up against the wall. Claire had been the one to add a crib and the soft lights. She had been the one to have painted the walls and added the soft blankets.
She had also been the one who had put him here, which turned his secret obsession of plain white diapers into a nightmare of sorts.
Richard tested the bonds of the cage crib again and found that he was stuck. He flexed his legs a few times and felt the grumbling inside his stomach and realized he was close to doing the unthinkable. But lucky for him, or unlucky for him, that's when the door swung open.
The door to the secret room opened slowly, causing him to see the dark wood of the hallway contrast sharply against the light pinks and blues of this baby room. Holding a cup of coffee in her hand and wearing sweatpants with his college logo on it, Claire walked over the window and gazed outside.
"What a wonderful morning for my little baby," Claire said, watching the people walk by going on with their day, unaware of what was happening inside the room that was just beyond their reach. Clare then turned her attention to the adult baby trapped in the crib in the center of the room.
"How is my little one doing this morning?"
If he could, Richard would have answered. He would have said that he needed to use the restroom. He would have told Claire that he couldn't do this anymore, that he didn't want to be a baby anymore. Instead, he wanted to be an adult and occupy the dark mahogany rooms in the house instead of the pastel tones.
Except, it wasn't that simple. He had only been in the room for eight hours. Clare had put him in this room last night at his request. Richard has asked for this treatment because it was the only way he was guaranteed to have an orgasm.
Claire wasn't some innocent girlfriend who had accepted Richard's fetish in stride. No, unlike many people who have boyfriends who tell them they like diapers, Claire was not a stranger to kink in general. Instead, she had surprised him by insisting it wasn't a big deal. That was fine if he wanted to wear diapers in his spare time.
But she had a kinky mind too, which meant that he needed to playball too. Which is what caused Richard to be locked in the crib to begin with.
Clare reached into the crib and squished Richard's diaper. The diaper man groaned slightly at the phantom touch he could feel through the layers of padding. He wiggled slightly, stretching as the horniness surged through his body. As someone who had not cum in a little over a month, this was the price he had to pay to get what he wanted, to get what he needed.
Claire took a seat in the small chair that faced the crib in the room, setting her coffee onto the edge of the changing table. She laughed slightly, forgetting that the pacifier in Richard's mouth meant there was no way he was going to answer the question she had asked earlier. "Silly me, little baby, it looks like you're doing just fine, snug in your crib in your baby room."
The truth was, Richard was comfortable, extremely comfortable, save for the grumbling in his stomach that was getting more and more fierce by the moment. But he wasn't going to admit that to Claire. Like he'd always said, he wasn't into this AB stuff; that was Claire's gig. She was a dominating personality who insisted on controlling the men she met, the ones she trapped in her web.
Even right now, Clare asserted her dominance over Richard. As if the diapers and the crib weren't enough, she rested her hand on his stomach, almost as if she was going to stop him from sitting up. The reality was, this simple gesture, while his stomach was growling, made him feel helpless, forced to carry out his sentence in the most humiliating way possible.
"I'm thinking today we need to get our shopping done and then we can meet our friends at the bar today," Claire patted the front of Richard's extremely saturated diaper. "Unless… you don't want to."
Richard looked up at Claire, who continued to fondle the front of his diaper. The combined pressure and constant rubbing caused him to involuntarily buck his hips slightly, which, as it turned out, was a bad idea. Clare quickly pulled her hand back, leaving Richard to hump the air desperately.
The quaint reality was this would be the most action he would get until he served his sentence.
All it would take is two days.
Richard's brain was in a fog as Claire continued to tell him what his day would be like. To Richard's horror, it was filled with outings, filled with moments where he would be forced to interact with people he knew, interact with her unsuspecting friends.
Claire was doing this on purpose. Richard felt his stomach flip over again, indicating that his saturated diaper would become packed with an unpleasant surprise sooner than later.
Richard didn't want to make a mess in his diaper. That was taking things a step too far in his mind. He was a diaper lover, not some messy adult baby.
Claire began unlatching the top of the crib in preparation for Richard's first of many diaper changes of the day. And during this process, she began to remind Richard why he was in this situation, to begin with.
It was simple. After Richard had revealed his diaper fetish to Claire, she had told him that she loved to dominate the men in her life. That meant, from time to time, she liked to control them, to manipulate them, to make them her playthings. Claire insisted that she liked it when the men in her life were like puppets from time to time, doing her bidding, hopelessly strung along by her charm, wit, and beauty.
Claire knew that as she untaped Richard's thick, swollen diapers, someone like Richard, who had an unusual fetish, would be willing to play ball with whatever she proposed. Which is why, right now, at this very moment, Richard was in the nursery getting his diaper changed by this sadistic woman.
Claire had a habit of speaking to him during diaper changes, but the diaper changes that happened during the 48 hours were especially brutal. First, Claire would untape the diaper, usually the first diaper anyway, and remark at how full and heavy it was. She'd then reach for the second set of tapes and slowly pull them off. Usually, by now, she'd act surprised at the sight of his locked penis.
"It's so small," she'd remarked. "Just your little baby clitty, locked in your cage."
Richard would squirm uncomfortably as she'd drag a cold wipe over the 3D printed cage and between the lines down there. "I just wonder how you're going to deal with being all locked up for 48 hours. By good, leaky baby for two days." Claire would then do what Richard hated; she'd stroke his balls and force him to throb painfully in his cage. But Claire would stop and say, "no, not today. You know the rules."
Claire would then place a new diaper and a stuffer underneath him. Tape the new diaper shut after a generous dusting of baby lotion and powder.
But indeed, Richard knew the rules. Claire had the rule that caused him intense agony and drive him deeper and deeper into babyhood. "If you want to cum, then you're spending the 48 hours before as my baby."
Richard had accepted that fate, not understanding how difficult that task could be. But Richard knew the truth of the matter, he could quit at any time if he wanted to. All he had to do was tell Claire that he didn't want to cum. Tell Claire that he didn't want to have an orgasm.
But Claire wasn't stupid, her man hadn't cum in about thirty days at this point and would endure any torture to make sure he could have some relief.
Which is why, as she locked the bars of the crib down again so she could prepare breakfast without a fussy baby man getting in her way, she smiled to herself.
Richard was going to earn his orgasm. Richard would earn his next orgasm in the most difficult way possible.
All Richard could do was squirm as his stomach grumbled again. The next two days were going to be long.
***
