The Rideshare - Part 4 (Patreon)

But the humiliation wasn't over for John. Rachel pulled out those damn plastic pants again and slid them up his legs. She fiddled with the waistband, and they tightened, meaning he wasn't getting them off any time soon.

"All good," Rachel said. "Guess we are ready for the day, huh?"

John nodded absent-mindedly, still not fully recovered from almost being exposed earlier. This woman seemed to have wanted to do all she could to make him understand that she was in complete control. For all intents and purposes, John was just along for the ride.

But there was no gentleness in Rachel's touch. No softness in her voice. While it seemed to anyone watching this ordeal that Rachel was treating John like a baby, she wasn't being as gentle as one would be with a baby. Instead, she was rough with him. When John had to stand up and leave the car so he could walk around to the passenger side of the SUV, she swatted him on his diapered ass. She roughly shoved him into the awaiting car seat.

John groaned when he saw the car seat sitting there innocently staring back at him. It looked extremely plush, the sides where the head should go, where the arms were, locked into place. There was a harness you'd see on a race car that would go over a wearer's head. For all intents and purposes, this car seat would keep the occupant locked down tightly, ensuring that if there were an accident, he would be safe.

Rachel instructed John to climb into the seat so they could get going. John did so quickly. He didn't want to stand on the side of the road in a diaper longer than he had to. As he eased himself into the car seat, Rachel took the straps, pulled them over his head and bucked them down between his legs.

John tested the bonds of the straps and realized they didn't have any give to them. They were locked down tight. He couldn't wiggle out of them, even if he wanted to. To be clear, John would have liked to have wriggled out of the straps, but he had no place to go. He had no interest in running across the yard in just a diaper and a tee-shirt, startling the neighbors who were just waking up. Instead, he just sat there, his legs dangling from the seat, waiting for Rachel to move the car.

Rachel had made it clear yesterday that they were going to visit Ashley. He knew a couple of Ashley's from his time in college, but he was pretty sure there was no reason for them to visit the captain of the cheerleading team, nor were they going to visit the young biology teacher who was in her second year of teaching… unless? John shook his head. No, none of that was happening. This Ashley, whoever she was, had to do with the accident.

John thought back to the days after the event when he, Sid, Melanie, Mike and Adam had met up again in Mike's parents backyard. Mike was a little different than the rest of them, because the university was literally in his hometown. Any time they needed a place to hangout without the distraction of landlords or roommates, Mike's place was always there. Besides, his parents were always away. They'd use their wealth to travel the world, saving kids with diseases that would never step foot in the United States.

"We need to tell the police what happened," Mike had insisted. "Someone had to have seen the car behind us."

But Melanie told him to shut the fuck up and think about the rest of the group who were choking on trust fund money. But John was having a hard time thinking, what car?

"What car are you talking about?" John blurted out.

Sid rolled his eyes, "JJ has a concussion still."

"We'd know for sure if you'd let us go to the hospital." Mike gestured towards JJ and then looked at Melanie for help. "If we go to the police now…"

"What's this obsession with going to the police? There was no other car." John insisted before Melanie could say anything. "No one else got hurt."

But Mike just shook his head and pressed a few buttons on the remote. A reporter was speaking directly to the camera in front of a lake on the television screen. In fact, John realized it was the exact same lake they had driven by the night before when the accident occurred. While they watched, a crane slowly unearthed a car that had been soaking at the bottom of the lake for a few days. The reporter, who looked slightly frazzled, was explaining that the car had been drug out of the lake and that based on the decomposition of the metal in the car, it had only been there for a few days.

"It's just a car," John said quietly. "We don't know how long it was in there or if anyone was in it. People dump their cars in that lake all the time."

John wasn't wrong, but Sid was suspicious and he and Mike exchanged weary glances. It was clear to them that John was in clear denial, a denial that was going to lead to him sitting thickly diapered in the backseat of Rachel's SUV at this very moment, rolling towards an uncertain future.

John crossed his arms, and his legs continued to wiggle, hanging from the car seat. No one had gotten hurt from his drunk driving incident. Instead, he'd just crashed his car, had it fixed, and they had moved on with their lives. The car in the lake was a coincidence. That's all that was. John balled up his fists in frustration. He was the one who was forced to play these stupid games just to figure out what this woman wanted. John let out a little pee into his diaper and groaned.

That was never going to feel normal. It felt gross, John's own urine trickling between his legs, feeling wet against his most intimate areas before being absorbed by the thick padding. What made matters worse was that there was no way to escape the diaper. It embraced his most adult of areas in a significant hug, though it was a heavy wet hug. There was no way to escape the sensation, thanks to the car seat. He used to using his penis to have sex, now it was used for nothing more than to wet his diapers.

***

After about two hours and a few wettings later, Rachel finally decided to talk to John. She had been quiet until then, but they'd arrived in a residential area again. This area had large houses with gates and manicured lawns. There were housekeepers outside mowing the yard, making touch-ups on the house, and in some places there were a few washing expensive cars on the street. Despite the large windows in the SUV, no one could see John and his diapers. The windows were tinted. For that, John was grateful.

"When you enter the house, you are not to speak until spoken to." Rachel said, pulling up to a gate and typing a few numbers into a keypad. "Things can still get much worse for you if you misbehave."

John's heart started beating rapidly when he realized what was happening. They would go into one of these houses where no doubt there'd be people inside. All of them would see him in his clearly saturated diaper. There was no way he could go inside and suffer the humiliation in store for him.

"Rachel, please," John said calmly, his legs kicking in nervousness. "What do you want from me? I'll do anything. Please don't make me go inside." John gestured towards the diaper that bulged between his legs. "You can't let people see me like this. I will do anything." John insisted again.

Rachel drove the SUV forward into the roundabout as the gate closed behind them. "I want you to come inside, John. And sit quietly like a good little boy while you examine the harm you've caused due to your night out drinking.

"No one got hurt." John insisted, straining against the car seat and grabbing at the buckles. There had to be some way out of the car. "No one got hurt."

But Rachel put the car into park and hopped out of the driver's seat. For a moment, the car was silent, and the only noise that could be heard was the scratching of John's hands at the buckles of the car seat. He pushed and pulled as hard as possible, but instead, he flailed at nothing. If someone had been watching John at that moment, he would have just looked like an overgrown toddler throwing a temper tantrum in the backseat of the car.

Rachel opened the door and looked John in the face. "In a moment, I will let you out of the car, and we are going to walk inside the house."

Rachel pointed towards the gate in the distance behind them. "That gate is twelve feet tall. There's no way you can jump it, and it can only open with this keycard." Rachel patted her pocket. "The house is up there, in the other direction." Rachel pointed to the large house that loomed over them. "If you play nice, this doesn't have to be as bad as you think. But one toe out of line, one waddle in the wrong direction, this can get very bad for you."

But all John heard was that the keycard was in her pocket. John thought to himself that, unlike his neighborhood, he could make a mad dash for the house and find some clothes inside. Even if the occupant was a woman, a robe or towel would allow him to keep his dignity as he then grabbed the keycard and exited the compound.

John laughed to himself in his head. Yes, this was a compound. Compounds have gates. This place had a gate. It was a compound.

John made a show of being complicit as Rachel undid the straps and helped ease the diaper boy out of the car. John gave a weak smile and nodded as his sneakers hit the ground. Then, in an instant, he lowered his shoulder and knocked Rachel onto the ground.

John levied his weight on Rachel's chest. The woman flailed around yelling. John focused on his goal and wiggled the keycard from Rachel's tiny pocket. John would need to discuss why these pockets were so small at another time.

John then stood up and looked around. Rachel was still clutching her breath, but looked like she'd recover any second. John decided to run for the gate. He and his friends had discussed this before. If you were in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse, don't run into a house full of zombies. Get as far away from them as possible.

John jogged to the gate, noticing instantly that his diaper was not making things easy. But he couldn't deal with that now. John wanted to get out of there before things got worse.

John slid the key card across the scanner and the gate slowly began to open.

Come on, come on, come on! John encouraged the gate to open. But right when he felt the gate was open wide enough for him to get through, he felt himself be tackled from the side, and he fell to the ground. Another set of strong hands grabbed him into a headlock.

The gate kept opening to the outside world, and John watched his only chance for freedom slowly vanish as he was dragged backward.

"HELP!" John yelled. But before he could get another sound out of his mouth, a hand covered his mouth. Another bodyguard grabbed his legs and carried him into the house. The last thing he saw of the outside world was Rachel closing the front door behind her as she glared in his direction.

Rachel picked up the keycard, brushed herself off, and stored it in her pocket.

"You're going to regret that," Rachel said coolly. She then looked at the guards who had dragged John inside. "Grab the stroller. This baby isn't doing any more walking today."

John continued to struggle as hard as possible, but he was no match for these people. John watched as they pulled a large stroller out and wheeled it in front of him. The stroller looked like your typical stroller, only larger, with massive straps where the legs and arms would go.

John tried to scream, he tried to yell out and get anyone's attention, but no one could hear him. The house guards dumped him into the stroller and began strapping him down. With his mouth free, John continued to yell. Rachel, for her part, just stared at him from across the room, steely-eyed and looking quite pleased with herself.

"No one can hear you, John, so you might as well save your voice."

"Fuck you, you fucking bitch." John then did something he'd never thought he'd do in a thousand years. He spat in her general direction.

Rachel's eyes flashed and she left the room. Soon, John was strapped down so tight that he couldn't move. He tried to kick his legs, move his arms, but nothing he did made any progress. What made matters worse was that his legs were spread apart in the stroller, because they were tied to the side. John kept struggling as his head was strapped back too. Soon all he could do was blink and slightly wiggle around.

For all intents and purposes, John was rendered helpless.

Rachel appeared back into John's vision while he felt his mouth being pried open. She dropped two tablets into his mouth. John tried to spit, but suddenly he realized he couldn't feel his mouth anymore. It was like he'd lost all control of his mouth. The tablets fizzed and bubbled. John couldn't swallow. All he could do was drool. But Rachel wasn't quite done. She put a pacifier, an extra-large one, into John's mouth.

John's eyes bulged. He'd never seen a pacifier this large before. But what was curious was that it appeared to have an extra part attached to it that kept his mouth open around the sides. The contraption became clear once Rachel put the bright blue pacifier into his mouth. It was designed to ensure that John would drool heavily. The tablets ensured that the taste of soap stayed thick in his mouth. To make matters worse, he could not swallow, so instead, he just drooled.

Rachel leaned over and looked John directly into John's eyes. "I told you things could get worse if you fucked around. I guess you found out."

John snarled, leading to more drool tumbling around the corners of the pacifier. Rachel looked surprised and reached into a nearby cabinet and pulled out a bright blue bib. The bib had dinosaurs on the front and said "Mommy's little baby." Rachel tied it around his neck and then used the corner of the bib to wipe John's mouth. "You might need this."

With that, she motioned for the stroller to start moving forward.

John wanted to cry. He was completely helpless at this moment. Try as he might, he couldn't move and to make matters worse, all he could do was babble helplessly behind the pacifier that forced him to drool. John hadn't been a baby in several years, but this had to have been what it felt like. This was humiliating to be trapped in a soaked, puffy, crinkly diaper.

John watched as he was wheeled into a sitting room and then left in the middle of the room. Rachel looked at one of the men in the room and asked if she was ready.

The guard nodded.

"Go get her. Let her know the driver is here."

The guard vanished into the hallway. John strained his neck and tried to see where he went, but instead just stained his his neck. John relaxed for a moment, feeling more drool dribble down his chin. After a few moments, he heard a slight thump getting closer and closer.

The thump, John realized, was a cane. A woman with dark black hair, brown eyes and a round face came around the stroller and sat down in an armchair opposite of John. John noticed she had a hard time sitting down, having to grip the arm of the chair before coming to rest on the cushion that sat there. The woman tossed her hair back and shakily put her palm on the side of the chair.

"So you're John." Her voice was low and deliberate.

John just whimpered from behind the drool pacifier.

The woman took her cane and poked the diaper between John's legs.

"And it looks like you're wet too." She laughed. "That's what you deserve." The woman leaned on her cane and then made eye contact with the trapped young adult. "Do you know who I am?"

John shook his head even though he knew exactly what was happening.

"A few months ago, you decided to drink, and you almost killed me." The woman laughed to herself for a second, then made eye contact with the shocked captive. "I'm Ashley, and today, you're mine."