Keep the House Clean (Patreon)

I was taken aback for a moment. I had never seen her this mad before.

The picture painted in front of me was one of complete and utter anger. My girlfriend's red hair, which usually rested on her shoulders and perfectly framed her face, bounced erratically. Her fists vibrated like a hummingbird as they threatened to escape their traditional home at her sides and fly towards me. My girlfriend’s eyes, usually a soft, delicate hazel, looked darker in this moment as if the very ocean had entered her and reflected their power right back at me. She was chaos, and I was in its path.

She was angry. Clearly.

But for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.

So I did what most men do in a situation like this. I took an inventory of the past 48 hours and tried to figure out what had happened. My mind pulled images from a few days before, bringing each of them forward in the front of the room.

I could see and remember, the crib, the car repair shop, the beer garden. All of it looked normal. I could even remember the soft smell of baby powder, the light beer, the puppies.

Just yesterday, the two of us had shared a moment. My partner had looked at me, her gaze drifting over me like sand on a towel, and spoken directly into my very soul. Behind the darkness, she whispered soft and commandingly in my ear, “I want you to drink me, Cayden.”

I shivered.

I could feel her breasts slightly graze my chest. I could feel her hands on my chest. The room, while perfectly calibrated, caused a breeze to drift over my skin. Goosebumps drilled their way up the side of my arms, while the places where her palms rested radiated a tremendous amount of heat. Before I could react, before I could say anything, I felt her nipple enter my mouth, the weight of her breast on my face, threatening to suffocate me.

Before I could stop myself, I began to suck greedily as if famished. I drank as if I had never had water before in my life. I sucked as if I had been starving for weeks and all I needed, to live, was the taste of -

My brain shoved the thought to the back of my head. My night of warm kinky sex was not what she was talking about. There had to be something else on my girlfriend’s mind.

But I couldn’t help it. Even now, I wanted to revisit that memory. We were both so happy. After all, I’d been thinking of the moment incorrectly. The truth was, I had been blindfolded the entire time. My brain had spent yesterday evening trying to fill in the gaps, trying to guess what had been happening while my other senses worked overtime.

But it was probably still the wrong memory.

“Babe,” I said, holding my hands up in slight defense. “Can you at least give me a hint? What happened.”

She huffed for a moment and shook her head. My girlfriend had a habit of doing this when she got angry. She would get overwhelmed and need a moment to collect herself.

“Wait right there,” she said, jabbing her finger towards me. “And don’t you dare move.”

I nodded slowly. What was she doing?

I watched as she vanished into the other room of the apartment and drifted back to the bedroom in my mind.

While sucking her perfect, supple, perky nipples, I suddenly felt liquid on my tongue. I gasped in surprise. There was no way she was lactating. We didn’t have children. This was… impossible. But as I sucked away, I could taste the sweet milk-like substance coming from her. This was my fantasy brought to reality.

My erection tried to grow, but the diaper I was wearing prevented this because when my girlfriend had put the diaper on me, she had pointed my manhood down. My penis was stuck pointing down, which meant it would remain soft and limp within the thick padding.

The first time my girlfriend had put me in a diaper, she had asked me how I’d like my penis to point.

“Up or down?” she had asked.

“Uh… down…” I mumbled, embarrassed at the question. “It’s so I don’t leak…”

She had complied, pushing the now softly growing member between my legs and into the diaper’s thick and soft folds.

After she had taped me up, she had laughed slightly as she squeezed the dry front of the diaper, causing me to shiver slightly.

“How are you supposed to get an erection in here if you’re all tucked down?”

“I mean, I can’t really,” I said. “Like I mean, I can, but it’s difficult.”

My girlfriend continued patting the front of the plastic padding, laughing as she did so. “So your little monster can't get hard and attack me huh.”

I blushed.

“So the diapers make you completely helpless. Like a chaste baby. Your dick is good for nothing besides dribbling into your thick diapers.”

I blushed heavily. I hadn’t thought of that before. Usually, when it was playtime, I’d adjust myself so I could get relief. But she had a point. With my member pointed down, that meant it really was limp and useless. She might even be able to use the word “cute” to describe the emasculating situation.

My mind snapped back to attention as my girlfriend reentered the room. “What is this?” My girlfriend held up a saturated diaper in her hand.

My brain snapped back to attention. “It’s a diaper.”

“It’s your used diaper.” Anger flashed in her eyes.

I nodded. “Yes it is.”

“And do you know where I found it?”

My brain finally figured it out.

Last night as I struggled with my erection, my girlfriend urged me to keep sucking. She urged me to continue to drink her. I did greedily. I was lost in a haze, but felt myself suddenly wet my diaper. The plastic padding expanded under her hand as she rubbed the swelling plastic. I couldn’t see her at that moment, but I knew what was happening.

Her brown skin was glowing in the candlelight of the bedroom, her eyes were hungry, and milk was dribbling down my chin. I hadn’t realized this in my blindfolded sensory overload, but she had been moaning too. Grabbing my back in an attempt to pull herself closer to me. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Eat me.” She gasped.

I complied, dropping to my knees, abandoning her touch and shoving my face between her thighs. There in front of me, I could feel it before my mouth made contact. It was like, missing a step and finding the floor too soon. I felt her thighs close around me and welcome me forward. My diaper crinkled as she grabbed the back of my head and dragged the rest of me forward.

I made contact, flicking my tongue softly over the internal ridge, blowing and softly licking her spot. My diaper felt warm and hot. I wanted more. I wanted to cum badly. My penis whined in captive anger. Insead of the soft folds of the diaper, it wanted the warm tunnel of her.

“I want you inside of me.”

I got up, ripped off the blindfold, and ran to the bathroom. Ripping off the diaper and leaving it on the floor, I grabbed a baby wipe, wiped myself down, and grabbed some lube.

I returned to the bedroom, picked up my girlfriend and pushed. She and I became one. My back was scratched. My soul was satisfied.

We both melted.

But right now, in this moment, my girlfriend was mad.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” I said with a goofy grin on my face. “It was from last night. You know…” I gestured towards her. “I took it off so we could fuck.”

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” my girlfriend said, gesturing with the wet diaper. “I told you what was going to happen if you left your wet diapers out on the floor again.”

“Hold on a second!” I protested. Indeed, she had made the threat. But this had to be different. There was a reasonable explanation for all of this. Sexy time after all; I didn’t have time to throw it away.

“No,” she said. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Because you can’t seem to keep your house clean on your own from now on, only I can change your diapers. You’ve demonstrated that you can’t be trusted with what should have been a simple task. “

I swallowed hard. “Baby, please. It was an innocent mistake.”

“No.” She said, “You’re the baby here.” She looked at the diaper and back at me. “Lie down.” She demanded.

“What are..?”

“LIE DOWN!” She yelled.

I complied. When she got like this, it would be dumb not to.

I sat down awkwardly on the floor.

But she was insistent. “I said lie down.”

It felt awkward lying down on my back, fully clothed on the carpet. I took a second to take in the scene that was before me. My girlfriend stood over me, holding the saturated wet diaper in her hand, with anger in her eyes. And there I lay, on the floor.

But she wasn’t done.

She got on her knees and put the diaper next to the side of my head. The motion itself caused me to try to move my head slightly to the left. I could smell the stale urine inside the diaper, held together by the SAP that threatened to burst at any moment.

While I pondered my situation, she began to tug my pants down my legs. Naturally, I lifted up slightly to let the sweatpants come down over my feet. She set the pants aside and demanded I hold still or I wouldn’t like the consequences.

My girlfriend grabbed the diaper sitting near my head and told me to lift up.

“Hold on a second-” I started to protest. “What are you..?”

But she was not going to stop. She had unfolded the diaper and placed it under my bottom. I fell down on the diaper with a slight squish. I cringed at the coldness beneath my bottom and watched in horror as my girlfriend wrapped the cold, thick diaper around my midsection.

“I told you what would happen the next time you left a wet diaper on the floor.” My girlfriend said as she tugged the tapes into place. I cringed as I felt the wetness mold around my groin. “I warned you, so this is not a surprise to you.” She proceeded to use packing tape to reinforce the used tapes.

“I made it really clear that if you left a diaper on the floor again, you’d be wearing it until I tell you you can take it off.” My girlfriend grabbed a cloth diaper that she’d brought into the room with her and proceeded to wrap the diaper round my midsection, causing the wet diaper to press closer against my groin. Finally, she grabbed a pair of plastic pants, had me stand up and step into them, and proceeded to lock them around me.

“So don’t consider this a punishment; consider this the fulfillment of a promise,” she said, patting me on the thick mass of diapers swaddled between my legs. “Maybe this time you’ll remember to throw your dirty diapers in the trash.”

I groaned to myself as I took a step and felt the thick mass of diaper squish between my legs and felt myself give off a slight waddle. “Babe, this is dumb.”

“Don’t talk back,” she said. “I can always ban diapers from the house entirely.”

I swallowed hard and slid my hands over the top of the plastic pants. But with the locks, they were not coming off any time soon.

“Now grab your clothes, we still have dinner reservations and I don’t want to be late.”