The collar locked around Marcus’s throat with a final, irrevocable click. Master Kane didn’t speak at first. He simply tugged the leather leash once, forcing Marcus to his knees on the cold concrete of the basement playroom. The thick, crinkling diaper between his legs had already been taped on hours ago—extra thick, extra humiliating, the kind that forced his thighs apart and made every movement announce exactly what he was: a kept, regressed fucktoy.
“Hands behind your back,” Kane ordered, voice low and flat. Marcus obeyed instantly. The moment his wrists were cuffed, Kane’s boot pressed down on the front of the diaper, grinding the swollen padding against Marcus’s trapped cock. A wet, muffled squelch filled the room. Marcus’s face burned.
“You’re going to stay like this until I decide you’ve earned a change,” Kane said. “And you’re going to thank me for every single piss you’re forced to hold.”
The first hour was the worst. Marcus knelt in the corner, diaper already warm and sagging, while Kane scrolled through his phone—specifically the private Tumblr Marcus had once used to post his secret fantasies. Every post was now printed out and taped to the walls. Photos of Marcus in previous sessions stared back at him: mouth stretched around Kane’s cock, eyes glassy, the obvious bulge of a soaked diaper visible beneath leather shorts. Captions Kane had forced him to write in his own shaky handwriting read “Gay sex slave story ABDL Tumblr—day 47. Still not allowed to cum.”
Kane finally stood. He walked over, unzipped, and let a heavy stream of piss arc directly onto the front of Marcus’s diaper. The padding swelled instantly, heat spreading across Marcus’s groin and up toward his belly. Marcus whimpered. The pressure made his own bladder ache in sympathy.
“Beg for it,” Kane said.
“Please, Sir… use your slave’s diaper again.”
Kane’s piss kept coming, soaking the already saturated garment until it hung heavy and obscene between Marcus’s spread thighs. When he finished, he wiped the head of his cock across Marcus’s lips, leaving a salty smear.
“Open.”
Marcus took the softening cock into his mouth and cleaned it, tongue working obediently. The taste mixed with the thick, humiliating smell of his own piss-soaked diaper. His cock tried to harden inside the padding but had nowhere to go; the pressure only made him leak another few drops of his own.
Kane pulled out and slapped Marcus’s face lightly with his wet cock. “Crawl to the changing table.”
The walk on all fours was torture. Every shift of his knees made the bloated diaper sag and rub. By the time he reached the padded table, his arms were shaking. Kane lifted him onto it like he weighed nothing, then strapped his wrists and ankles down so he was spread wide, diaper fully exposed.
Kane cut the tapes with deliberate slowness. The front dropped away, revealing Marcus’s flushed, half-hard cock and the glistening mess beneath.
Kane didn’t rush the cleaning. He wiped every inch with cold wipes, paying special attention to Marcus’s hole, pressing two fingers inside without warning and scissoring them open while Marcus gasped.
“You’re going to take my cock while wearing the next one,” Kane said. “And you’re going to piss yourself again while I’m inside you.”
The new diaper was even thicker. Kane powdered him thoroughly, then taped it on so tight Marcus could barely close his legs. Then Kane climbed onto the table, straddled Marcus’s chest, and fed his now-hard cock back into Marcus’s mouth while he reached behind himself to line up.
When Kane sank down onto Marcus’s cock, the thick diaper compressed between them. Every thrust Kane made forced Marcus’s own piss-slick cock to grind against the soaked padding. Marcus moaned around the cock in his mouth, the dual sensation of being used and being utterly contained pushing him toward the edge.
Kane rode him hard, one hand braced on Marcus’s cuffed wrists, the other gripping his throat just above the collar. “You don’t come until I say. You don’t piss until I say. You exist for this.”
Marcus’s vision blurred. The pressure in his bladder, the friction of the diaper, the relentless squeeze of Kane’s hole around his cock—it all blurred into one overwhelming wave. When Kane finally growled “Now,” Marcus let go. Hot piss flooded the fresh diaper in pulsing spurts while his cock jerked and spilled inside the padding at the same time. Kane kept riding through it, forcing every drop out until Marcus was shaking and sobbing around the cock still stretching his throat.
Only then did Kane pull out, stroke himself twice, and paint Marcus’s face and open mouth with thick ropes of cum.
He left Marcus strapped to the table, face messy, diaper heavy and warm again, the printed Tumblr posts still watching from the walls.
“Rest,” Kane said quietly. “We’re not done. Your followers want an update tonight.”
Marcus closed his eyes, the collar heavy, the diaper heavier, and felt the first stir of fresh need already building. He wouldn’t be allowed relief for hours.
And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
