The basement smelled of leather, powder, and fear. Marcus circled the bound man on the floor like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.
Alex—once his cocky coworker—now lay stripped, wrists cuffed behind his back, ankles spread by a short bar. His cock, traitor that it was, twitched half-hard despite the terror in his eyes.
“Beg,” Marcus said, voice low and edged with iron. “Or the camera keeps rolling and your little secret goes to the whole office by morning.”
Alex’s throat worked. “Please… don’t make me wear that.”
The diaper in Marcus’s hand was thick, pink, and printed with tiny cartoon bottles. He dropped it onto Alex’s stomach. The crinkle sounded obscene. Marcus knelt, lifted Alex’s hips with one powerful arm, and slid the diaper beneath him. Powder dusted the air. Marcus’s fingers were clinical and cruel as he taped the sides tight, the padding forcing Alex’s legs apart. Every shift made the diaper rustle and press against his balls.
“Look at you,” Marcus murmured, dark satisfaction threading every word. “Big man at the office, now a diapered sissy who’s going to piss on command.”
He clicked a pink pacifier between Alex’s lips. “Suck. Like the little girl you are.”
Alex sucked. The rubber nipple filled his mouth. Marcus filmed it, zooming on the way Alex’s cheeks hollowed and the diaper tented with reluctant arousal.
“Stand.”
The spreader bar made walking a humiliating waddle. Marcus led him to a full-length mirror. Alex stared at his reflection: broad shoulders, hairy chest, thick diaper sagging between his thighs, pacifier stretching his lips. Marcus stepped behind him, one hand gripping Alex’s jaw, the other sliding down to press the front of the diaper.
“Wet it,” he ordered. “Now.”
Alex’s face burned. Pressure built in his bladder from the water Marcus had forced him to drink earlier. A few humiliating drops escaped, then a steady stream. The diaper grew warm and heavy, sagging lower. Marcus rubbed the sodden front, forcing the wet padding against Alex’s cock.
“Good girl,” Marcus crooned, voice dripping contempt. “Look how hard you’re getting in your pissy diaper. Gay little sissy loves it.”
He bent Alex over the padded bench, ripped the tapes open just enough to expose his hole, and slicked two fingers with lube. The invasion was slow, deliberate, power made flesh. Alex moaned around the pacifier as Marcus worked him open, scissoring, stretching, owning.
“Tell me what you are,” Marcus demanded.
Alex spat out the pacifier. “A… a forced gay diaper sissy.”
“Louder.”
“I’m a forced gay diaper sissy who needs to be humiliated!”
Marcus replaced the pacifier, then replaced his fingers with his cock. The thrust was deep and merciless. Alex’s diapered cock rubbed against the bench with every stroke, the wet bulk adding friction and shame. Marcus fucked him with controlled brutality, one hand fisting Alex’s hair, the other reaching around to squeeze the soaked diaper.
“Come in your diaper like the pathetic sissy you are.”
Alex came with a broken cry, pulsing into the already warm padding. Marcus followed seconds later, flooding him, then taped the diaper shut again so the mess stayed trapped against his skin.
Later, Marcus dressed him: frilly pink panties over the diaper, a short maid dress, knee socks. He made Alex crawl to the corner and kneel in his own mess while Marcus uploaded the first clip—face blurred, voice altered—to a private server.
“Every day you come here after work,” Marcus said, stroking Alex’s hair like a pet. “Every day you wear what I choose. Every day you prove how low a forced gay ABDL sissy can sink.”
Alex’s cock stirred again inside the filthy diaper. The humiliation was a living thing, coiling tighter with every breath. Marcus smiled, dark and satisfied, already planning the next layer of degradation.
The power exchange had only begun.
