Last Chance (4)

Chapter 3
paint it black

Chapter Description: [male: mind control, physical AR, infantilism, forced homosexuality, mental AR]

Tyler dropped to his knees. His diaper, so securely taped, remained steadfastly wrapped around his crotch as the teenager began fumbling with Travis’s zipper.

Travis looked down at his friend, complete lust overtaking him as he watched Tyler unzip the boy’s jeans and push them down to his ankles. The color of flesh was quite distinct against the white fabric of Travis’s briefs as his cock strained against it.

Tyler worked Travis’s tighty-whities over the teenager’s stiff rod and pushed them down to join his ankles. He looked at the long, throbbing cock in front of him -- seven inches of perfectly-formed meat, a drop of pre-cum formed delicately at the tip -- and burst into tears as he wrapped his silky mouth around it.

Travis’s eyes rolled back into his head as he let out a groan of ultimate pleasure. The diapered 18-year-old at his feet diligently sucked his cock like a true professional, uncontrollably moving his head back and forth over its shaft. Tyler pulled off and slurped at the salty head as if it were a lollipop. He buried his face in Travis’s crotch and sucked hungrily at his balls, Travis’s pubes tickling his nose. Tyler returned to pumping Travis’s cock like a piston and whined as tears of humiliation fell onto the shaft, serving as added lubrication. The two boys had never been so abjectly embarrassed.

“Tyler?” Debra called from the sidelines.

“Mmmf-mmmf?” came the reply.

“I saw how much you had for lunch today,” she said. “You ate like a pig. I’ve never seen anybody take down so much food in one sitting.”

“Mmmf-mmmf,” Tyler said, confused, distracted by a mouthful of cock.

“I bet you really need to mess your diapers, don’t you?”

“MMMF-MMMF!” replied Tyler with a whine.

“Go ahead and mess your diapers for Auntie Debra.”

Tyler tried to escape, to disappear, to concentrate on sucking Travis’s cock at the expense of everything else. Travis let out another uncontrollable moan. And Tyler began to push.

The teenager felt the distinct sensation of a stool working its way out of his ass and pressing against the tight fabric behind him. He pushed harder, evacuating his bowels into his diaper. The sticky load at his bottom began to grow as Tyler pushed, moaning anew around Travis’s cock. Travis looked down and watched in perverse arousal as the seat of his new boyfriend’s diaper expanded into a softball-sized load. The diaper crinkled and groaned at the new stress.

At last, Tyler finished his business. And Travis exploded. The teenager let out a wail of unearthly pleasure as a load of hot cum pulsed through his shaft and erupted into Tyler’s waiting mouth. Travis reached down and grabbed Tyler’s head, fucking the boy’s mouth and forcing his cock down his throat as jet after jet of hot, salty cum burst from the head of his aching cock. Travis’s toes curled in his shoes and Tyler, per his implied instructions, eagerly swallowed down everything his longtime friend had to offer.

Tyler didn’t like the taste of Travis’s cum. But when the storm was over and Debra ordered him to clean up the boy’s cock, Tyler dutifully and eagerly dragged his tongue along Travis’s shaft, balls, and between his thighs, acquiring every last drop. At last, Travis’s crotch was immaculate, his moist cock slowly wilting back between his legs -- and Tyler, exhausted, replaced Travis’s briefs and jeans and sat back on the carpet, the sickening load of crap in his diaper spreading across his flesh, through his legs and around his balls and cock, caking him in filth and making him feel like a naughty, diaper-messing, cocksucking pervert.

Travis, selfishly oblivious to his two friends’ plights, relished the afterglow. He looked down at Tyler, who was still crying, sitting in his mess and struggling to wipe errant drops of Travis’s salty cum from his chin and chest.

“I-- I wuv you,” Travis told his boyfriend. His hands leapt to his mouth and covered them in fright. What had he just said?

And, moreover, how had he just said it?

Carla giggled at the realization that the second phase of Travis’s drug had begun to take effect.

The light fog swirling in the boy’s mind turned to a thick pea soup. Travis whined as he became vaguely aware that he was regressing mentally, and with startling haste. All the knowledge, experience, and wisdom he had accrued during high school vanished into the ether. He struggled to cling to something -- anything -- but only the occasional map or arcane novel popped into focus before vaporizing with dejected immediacy. As his mind atrophied into pre-pubescence he lost all concepts of the pleasures of sex. There was no longer any psychology to it -- only physical response. Thusly, he surmised his boyfriend would still please him, and would be ordered to do so on a fairly regular basis; this was the horny teen’s only solace as he lost how to ride a bike, the order of the alphabet, the names and the significance of colors.

Eventually, all Travis knew was comfort, pain, and humiliation. The comfort came when he pushed his bony thumb into his mouth and began to suck. The pain impressed itself upon his full bladder, and, at the last, humiliation arrived in the manifestation of the teenager’s loss of toilet training.

The lanky, slightly-muscular Travis stumbled backwards with a few awkward steps, his thumb still firmly nursing in his mouth, as he felt warm spurts of urine hit his briefs and begin to saturate the front of his jeans. The 18-year-old loosed a childlike whine as he pissed his pants for his amused audience. Warm, gentle streaks of water coursed down his legs and settled into the denim, the absorption leaving a vaguely chilly sensation against the teenager’s skin. Travis closed his eyes and sucked his thumb, doing everything in his power to quell the humiliation as he emptied his bladder into his designer jeans in front of his ex-girlfriend and new boyfriend. He forgot how to walk, and he fell to his butt, his hot piss now saturating his jeans and leaving the fly in a powerful arc. The teenager’s emotions collapsed back to babyhood and he cried around his thumb, bawling audibly, tears streaking down his cheeks to join the puddle of urine on the floor.

“Ty-weeew!” he wailed around his thumb. “I hadded a accy-dent!” He burst into tears anew and rolled onto his back, kicking his soaked legs in the air as he grimaced at the feeling of cold, wet fabric clinging to his slender teenaged frame.

Tyler watched his friend writhe and kick his legs in a babyish tantrum. This, coupled with the sickening mess of crap coating his genitals, caused him to join Travis in an uncontrollable wail of ultimate shame. And baby Tate, the only one of the three with his adult emotions and volition left intact, felt the pain of the cacophonous sounds of his best friends against his underdeveloped infant eardrums, and burst into an ear-splitting squeal of anguish brought on by naught more than instinct.

Carla, Debra, and Marta looked down upon their boyfriends -- all humiliated, all in receipt of their ultimate comeuppance, and all in crucial need of diapers.

“Diapers!” Carla shouted, struggling in vain to be heard above the girls’ boyfriends’ cries. “They’re so expensive these days. But we’ve spoken to your parents -- all of them -- about what you did to us, and they agreed to contribute your combined life savings into a fund to provide you with all the diapers, baby food, and pacifiers you’ll ever need.”

“That’s right,” said Debra. “Who would’ve thought that all the money you made during your hot, sweaty summer jobs would end up being put towards diapers for you to wet and mess yourselves in!”

Marta laughed. “I’m sure at least one of you was saving up for a car. Don’t worry-- you can buy a lot of Hot Wheels with what you’ve got in your savings accounts.”

“Yeah,” Debra sighed. “It’s too bad the effects of these drugs are so inconveniently permanent. You wouldn’t believe the piles of paperwork over which your parents had to slave, to take you out of school and all, to cancel your college applications and invalidate your driver’s licenses. I just don’t think any of you are street legal anymore.”

Laughter from the girls.

“We hate to leave you like this,” said Carla, “but we’ve got some homework to catch up on. Your parents will come to pick you up. But we’ll get to see you every weekend as usual... babysitting, of course. It’s only fair.”

“Only fair,” the others agreed.

Travis, Tyler, and Tate, despite their continued crying, caught every word. Travis’s frigid jeans clung to his limp cock and started to itch. Tyler squirmed around in his loaded diaper, wanting nothing more than to be changed by somebody, anybody. And Tate, largely immobilized, caught a sunbeam in his eye and tried to concentrate on it. To concentrate so, so hard... to forget what happened to him, to his best friends; perhaps even to wake up and find himself the victim of a most convincing nightmare.

None of this was to be, and the three self-satisfied girls delighted in taking care of their new babies for years to come.

the end

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