Desperation, Part 2 of 3 [Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

I had never been ravaged before. That sort of thing only happened in the novels I read. The ones with painted covers and titles in script on the cover; the ones I kept in a drawer in my bedside table so that it wasn’t just sitting out in the event that someone else was in my room. Even a burglar. Especially a burglar.

Robert had been the latest in a long line of selfish lovers in my life. I had never walked away from a sexual encounter with someone else feeling reborn or especially spirited. And for a long time I wondered if that was just the nature of sex - it actually sucked, and everyone just pretended it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. But the novels and movies probably weren’t lying. Good sex was a thing, it just wasn’t something I had ever gotten close to.

But then there was a tongue in my labia and fingers on my clit, and I felt my world violently exploding. Blindfolded, half wet, just shaven, and with a strange woman who was presumably richer than I’d ever be between my legs, I was being reborn. I was peering through space and time. There was some sort of space-god waiting for me.

“Hello, Gwen. So nice of you to finally join us.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to get here,” I’d say.

In reality: “Fuuuuuuuuuck…”

My fingers were in her hair. I somehow had the cognizance to worry about whether or not I was ruining an exceptionally expensive hair style. But she didn’t care and so I didn’t either.

She was a machine. A robot. Not only had she done this before, but I suspected that she had actually invented eating out women. I was legitimately frustrated that she was this good - because it meant that if anyone else ever tried to do this for me again, they’d have to live up to this. And they wouldn’t.

I was mumbling now, a steady stream of semi-conscious babbling: “You can have anything you want. I’ll do anything for you. You want me to wear a diaper? I’ll wear a diaper. I’ll wear all the diapers. Keep me in diapers. Keep me in a crib. Put me in a stroller and push me through a park. Please don’t ever stop. Please. Keep me. Own me. You can have me. I don’t want anything else anymore. Please. Please. Pleeaasssse…”

The ‘pleases’ continued, drawing out into longer and less-intelligible iterations until they devolved further into moans and pathetic gurgles.

I came harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life. I felt my soul leave my body for a moment. For half a second I was dead.

La petite mort, indeed.

Her mouth and hands finally receded and my hands fell out of her hair and to my sides. Moments passed in a thick silence that felt saturated in shame.

“You stay there,” she said. “I need to clean up.”

“Clean up?”

“You squirted on my face,” she said with a laugh. “A fucking gallon.”

I had no idea that I was capable of such a thing.

I heard her walking away from me. Somewhere else, water was running and being splashed around. I took the opportunity to run a hand of my own between my legs. My skin was still sensitive and raw. But it was smooth as could be. It occurred to me that I could walk out of here right now completely happy. I’d go home as broke as ever, but at least I’d have a smooth pussy that a woman had just made a meal of.

“We need to go back,” she said, suddenly near me. Her hand took mine, and my fingers tightened around hers. We were walking again. Doors opened and closed. My feet were on the carpet again. For a while we walked in silence.

Then: “Not a word of this to them,” she said.

“Okay.” I didn’t ask why. I didn’t care. She could’ve asked me to rob a liquor store for her now and I would’ve seriously considered it. Not telling other strange men that I had just met a space-god was a piece of cake.

Another door opened, and the lights got a little dimmer. I had a feeling we were back where we started.

“Good work,” someone said. Bald Man, I think. “She looks great.”

“Took you long enough,” Young Man’s snooty voice said.

“One doesn’t rush perfection,” she said to him.

“You may take off your blindfold now,” First Man said. I did. It was the same room. The same four. The same vast emptiness around us in this large room. Outside, the sky was darker and there were more lights scattered across the horizon than there were before.

“We’ll pick up from where we left off,” the woman said. “On your back.”

Once more, I lowered myself to the ground, sprawling out on my back, completely nude and with 100% less hair in certain areas where there was hair before.

“What else do we have in the bag?” the woman asked First Man.

“What do you need?”

“Powder?”

He nodded, pulling the familiar looking rounded-square white bottle that was synonymous with baby powder from the bag. He set it down on the table. “Anything else?”

“A binky?”

“Binky?” he repeated, confused.

“Pacifier?” she elaborated.

“Ah, let me see.” He shifted some objects around in the bag.

“Never heard of a binky before?” asked Bald Man.

“Is that a common term?” First Man asked in return. “I don’t have children.”

“You’re not missing much,” Young Man said.

“Do you have kids?” Bald Man now asked Young Man.

“It’s complicated.”

“He got his sperm somewhere he shouldn’t have,” the woman said. “He’s technically a father, but he’s not a Dad.”

“Hey,” said Young Man. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’ll feel bad about it when you do,” she snapped back.

He laughed and shook his head. “Fair enough.”

I had disassociated for a moment there, becoming just a fly on the wall as I listened to the conversations of people I had never met before and would likely never see again. I knew nothing about them. I knew nothing about what brought them here tonight. I could guess, but I’d always have unanswered questions.

It was her hands that brought me back to earth. She lifted my bare legs into the air, sliding the back of the diaper under my ass. My cheeks were lowered down to the crinkling padding below and she overturned the baby powder above me, dousing me with a sweet-smelling snow. I had always enjoyed the scent of baby powder.

“There doesn’t seem to be a pacifier in the bag,” First Man said. “I could call for one if you want.”

“We’ll make do with what we have,” the woman said.

I didn’t find the diapers, themselves, especially humiliating or strange. It was far from normal, but there were probably stranger things in this world. It helped that she knew what she was doing. There was a practiced routine in motions. I wondered if she had children. Or...if they had a lot of appointments like me.

More questions. Who had come before me? What else was in that bag? What happened after this? Why?

She had pulled the diaper up through my opened legs, bringing the sides together and using the built-in tapes to seal it shut. Later - much later - I’d find myself more curious about where one procured adult-sized diapers that still seemed so...infantile. The fluffy bulk that encased my privates now felt too obvious and exaggerated to actually have a practical application for any adult actually in need of protection. But in the moment, I let it be. It was what it was. I was wearing a diaper now. I was a baby.

“I see it now,” Bald Man said. I turned my head to see him, and he was standing up, peering down at me from the other side of the folding table as he stroked his chin. “You’re right. She’s a baby.”

“I’m never wrong,” the woman said.

There was a short chorus of mixed reactions.

“I want to see the baby crawl,” said Young Man.

“Get on your hands and knees, Baby,” said First Man.

I did as he asked, flipping myself over so that I was face-down on the ground before propping myself up on my hands and knees. Just this small amount of movement had proved to be slightly more cumbersome with the diaper between my legs. It’s comically large features were ever-present in my consciousness and it was hard not to be constantly aware of it. Especially now - as it stuck up in the air for all to get a good view of.

“Crawl around the room for us,” First Man said.

“The entire room?” I asked, once again scanning the epic emptiness of the room.

“Correct.”

I sighed. It wasn’t asking that much of me. In the scheme of things, it could be worse. But it had been a very long time since I had last crawled. I couldn’t remember the last time I had crawled on my hands and knees. And this was a very large room.

I began to crawl. I knew how to do it - you don’t forget that sort of thing. But between the thick diaper and the feeling of eight eyes on me, I was very careful and deliberate with my movement.

“You should take your time,” the woman said. “Because by the time you make your way back to us, I want you to have used that diaper.”

“Wait, what?”

“Use the diaper?” she said. “Do I need to clarify what I mean by that?”

“But…”

“She means you need to wet yourself,” Bald Man said.

“Or shit yourself,” Young Man added.

“Don’t be crass,” the woman told him.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Young Man said. “An hour from now, we’ll all be saying much worse things than that.”

I’d liked to have known more about what he meant by that, but I had enough on my plate. Crawl around the room. Use the diaper. I was tempted to ask about what would happen if I hadn’t used the diaper by the time I returned to them, but I probably didn’t actually need to know. It’d be best to focus on just meeting those demands so that I didn’t need to know.

Yes, my ability to crawl around an empty room while trying to piss in a diaper could be purchased.

I slowly plodded forward, heading towards the wall-length windows on the furthest wall. It was a nice distraction - a bustling city at night, chock full of millions of people who had no idea I was watching them while wearing only a diaper. By the time I reached the windows, I knew that I could use the diaper. I could feel the ache in my bladder - the post-climax ringing in my bladder. Well played, mystery woman. I turned to the right and followed the windows all the way to the next corner and turned right again.

I slowed myself down, giving myself some extra time in case it was as hard to piss myself as I thought it would be. Surely my body wouldn’t be so willing to rebel against 23 years worth of toilet training.

But it was. My body completely sold me out. The most minimal amount of effort had released my bladder and I could only pause and let nature take its course. It was a long and heavy stream, and just as quickly as it poured into the diaper, the thick padding absorbed it and dispersed the wetness between my legs. The diaper grew warmer and heavier. It began to droop between my legs - a shameful sag if there ever was one.

From the chairs, I could hear them talking, though they were too far away to hear what it was. It spoke to the absurdity of the room’s size.

I kept going. Just as I had gotten used to the thick fluffy padding around my ass, the paradigm had changed and I was now getting used to crawling with the saturated and saggy lump between my legs. But my pace increased. I was ready to show them what I had done. I reached the next corner and turned left.

“Do you see that?” the woman said. I could hear them better now as I approached them again. “Do you see that it’s sagging between her legs? She did it. I told you she would.”

“Congratulations,” Bald Man said. “Are you going to adopt?”

Maybe it was a joke? Her lack of a response suggested that it had been. Maybe it was some long-running joke of theirs. The sort of thing that they joked about at the water cooler - or wherever it was that the elite weirdos in the city drank from. The wine cooler.

I was wrapping up my shame soggy crawl and began making my way back to the point I started in the middle of the room. It had been an exhausting process - a full body workout. Was this the workout regime I didn’t know I needed?

“I’m bored,” Young Man said. “If I wanted to watch people piss themself and crawl around in a circle, I’d wait until 2 AM and pick any of the dive bars in town to visit.”

“We’ve achieved a lot in a short amount of time,” the woman said. A slight understatement, given the accomplishments nobody else knew about.

“I hate to say it,” Bald Man said. “But I think he’s right. We should, ah, kick this up a notch.”

“Suggestions?” asked First Man.

“I know what I want to see,” Young Man said, standing up. “But let’s see if the magic bag can deliver.” He walked to the duffel bag, peering into it and moving things around.

“Do you require something specific?” First Man asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“We’re no longer using the taser, if that’s what you’re looking for,” the woman said.

“N-no,” Young Man said, glancing over to me nervously, as if something was partially exposed that he would rather not have been. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll be back.”

He went through the door. Not the hallway door, the other one. I wondered if I had gone through that door when we went to the shower earlier.

“What’s he doing?” asked Bald Man.

First Man shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.”

Bald Man stood up and picked up his chair, carrying it out from behind the folding table and placing it an empty area to the left of the rest of the group. He sat the chair down on the ground and sat back in it again.

“Come to me, Baby,” he said. “Crawl to me.”

If First Man was the composed and quiet one, Young Man was the brash one and the woman was...well...heart-stoppingly fantastic - Bald Man was the wild card.

My eyes wandered back to the woman, wondering if she’d have anything to say, or at least an expression on her face that I could read. But there was nothing. A semi-smirk - the same one that was usually on her face. It shouldn’t have come as any sort of surprise, but I was on my own.

I crawled forward the 7 or 8 feet between where I was and his new location. And when I reached him, I sat back on the back of my ankles, perched and ready for whatever it was he wanted next.

He leaned forward in his chair and reached forward, running his fingers through my hair. It was a weak spot of mine - my hair? Touching it, stroking it in any way, could often earn someone some overly affectionate attention from me. Strange bald men included.

“She is a pretty little thing,” he said. “Her hair is ridiculously soft.”

“I’m fond of this one,” the woman said. “Where did we find her again?”

“She called us,” First Man said.

“You can still do that?” Bald Man asked. “I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.”

“The number must still be up somewhere,” the woman said.

Now I was really curious how I found that number. Not to mention curious about how else one went about contacting them. Whoever they were.

“Pretty little thing,” Bald Man said again. “It’s almost a shame how adorable you are. Because it just makes me want to defile you even more.”

My heart sank in my chest. I looked back again to First Man and the woman, wondering if they’d say anything. Neither said a word, they barely flinched.

Bald Man began to unfasten his belt and unbutton his trousers. I was so caught off guard that I could barely even process what was happening before me.

I opened my mouth: “But...I thought…”

“It doesn’t hurt to suck on a cock, does it?” Bald Man asked.

“N-no…”

“And you’d like that wad of cash over there, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll wrap your adorable little lips around my cock and you’ll leave them there until I’ve shot my load down your throat.”

“Y-yes…”

“You’ll address me as ‘sir.’”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Have you seen a cock like this before?” He pulled his manhood from his pants - fully erect and looking larger than the room allotted for it in his pants. It was, with certainty, the largest penis I had ever seen before.

“No, sir.”

“Do you wish this was inside of you?”

I felt a confusing rush of emotions in me. I wanted it. I wanted to feel it breaking me in half. But...I also really just wanted the woman’s tongue in me again.

But, to be honest: “Yes, sir.”

“Well I’m not going to fuck a girl in dirty diapers,” he said, laughing. Somewhere off to the side, I could hear someone else laughing too. “Come here. Bring your little mouth here.”

I trudged forward on my knees, my chest pressed against his legs and my head leaning forward into his lap. I was unsure if I had reached my mouth forward to his cock, or if he had just guided it to my mouth - but it was suddenly in there. A giant thing unlike any I had ever had in my mouth before.

I never liked oral sex. ‘BJs’ as we called them as kids. It just felt like work to me. Messy unreciprocated work. But for the first time in my life, this meant something. I respected this man. I wanted, so badly, to please this man. I wanted to honor him and show him how much I cherished this blessed appendage of his. All hail Bald Man’s cock!

I feared I wouldn’t be good at this, but it was as easy as deciding that I would give him everything I had. I closed my eyes, and my body almost immediately found a rhythm. My head nodded to and fro on a gentile ellipsis while my neck and shoulders waved from side to side. It would be the greatest oral I had ever given in my entire life.

I had no idea where it ranked for him. His breathing had grown louder and more intense, but he said nothing. There were no grunts or groans. No moans. No further commands. No news was good news and I intended to continue doing what I was doing until he said otherwise.

To my right the door is opening and Young Man has returned. He’s pulling something behind him. I can’t turn my head completely to see what it is, but I can get the general idea of what it is. Something tall and narrow. A pole? It’s on wheels.

An IV?

“Concentrate on my cock, Baby,” Bald Man says. His hands clamp around my head and he holds it in place so that I lose my sight of what is happening to the right completely.

I remain committed to giving Bald Man everything I’ve got, but I attempt to tune into the conversation happening near Young Man.

“...had one of those?” the woman was asking.

“Yes,” First Man said. “I’ve never used it.”

“It’s not hard,” Young Man said. “I’ll show you.”

“Now?” asked the woman.

“Of course.”

“Concentrate on me,” Bald Man said to me, perhaps noticing my wavering attention. “Don’t worry about them.”

I offered the slightest of nods and a little grunt to show that I was complying, but his request was easier said than done. I could hear the squeaking wheels of whatever apparatus Young Man was pushing towards me. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen while I was working on Bald Man.

I wondered what they thought of me, compared to the others who came here. I, of course, was assuming that I was not the first. Was I uglier? Stupider? More easily manipulated?

The wheeling stopped and whatever it was was right behind me now.

“Have you ever had an enema before?” Young Man asked. I assumed he was asking me.

“She can’t answer you right now,” Bald Man said. He worked the full sentence into a quickly-spoken burst between his long deep breaths. He sounded frustrated by the interruptions. “She’s busy.”

“Well then don’t mind me,” Young Man responded. “I’ll just get to work back here and leave you to it.”

No, I never had an enema before. I had a vague idea of what they were and how they worked, but it was something that I never had to think much about or consider. Like diapers, maybe. I’d need more time - and one less hard cock in my mouth - to fully consider my feelings on the idea of enemas in general. I did not have that luxury.

Every time I got slightly distracted, an alarm would trigger in my mind - a series of circuits activated from my mouth up to my brain. There’s a fucking huge cock in your mouth right now. It occurred to me that a fine line of saliva had been dribbling from the corner of my lips and was disappearing somewhere below me. I wondered where it was going. I imagined the little stream following the veins in his shaft before disappearing into his thick black pubic hair. He certainly didn’t have to be shaved.

I probably looked stupid. There she was - dumb little baby girl, on her knees and drooling uncontrollably on this man’s erection while her soggy diaper hung below her.

I let out a long breath from my nose. Something felt like it had awakened today. I felt it in the shower when the woman brought me close to climax, and I was feeling it now as I slobbered all over this man’s penis. Though I had never actually felt this way before in my life, I knew it wasn’t introduced to my subconscious today. This has always been there - this all-consuming need to be used as someone else’s personal plaything - but I just lacked the environment where that would be discovered.

If my mouth wasn’t occupied, I likely would’ve been begging and pleading for him to do even worse things for me.

Thankfully, Young Man was behind me, working on ‘worse things.’ He had stuck fingers between my left thigh and the leg hole of the diaper, pulling it open the best he could. I’d say it was humiliating, but that word was starting not to mean anything. Everything was humiliating here. It’d get worse before it got better.

I could feel him trying to feed something into my diaper through the leg. Thin and hard. I tried thinking about what I knew of enemas, but there were simply too many things going on for me to concentrate on it. Bag? Liquid? Tube that goes into your ass?

What’s the whole point of that again?

I was blissfully stupid, and I ran with it. Fuck it. Do whatever you want, Young Man. I continued to drool all over Bald Man, offering a few long moans for good measure. They weren’t fake, though. My mouth wasn’t the only thing leaking - I let out another spurt of piss into the sagging diaper. I hoped that Young Man noticed. I hoped that he felt it.

“I have to shove this up your bottom,” Young Man said, poking at my ass with the firm tube. Some sort of plastic applicator or pipe, I imagined.

I let it happen. I let him fumble around, blindingly trying to feed his plastic tube into my ass inside of the saturated diaper. All this attention today - on all ends. And you want to pay me for this?

“That’s very good,” Bald Man said, his head tilting back so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He followed that up with a long moaning “Mmmpph.” I was so proud of myself for having done that to him.

“Mmph.” That one was mine - the sound of feeling Young Man finding his target and pressing the tube into me.

Do I like things in my ass? Something else I had really never considered before, once more on account of having not been exposed to even the idea. It would’ve been hard for me to have judged the sensation based on just the feeling of this tube alone - once it was inside of me, I barely felt it. But it yearned for more. I wanted to pull my mouth off of Bald Man’s cock and ask him to put it in my ass instead.

He’d probably kill me if he did that. And I’d be drooling uncontrollably while smiling the entire time.

“I’m going to remove the stopper,” Young Man said. This meant nothing to me.

“Just fucking do it,” Bald Man said as he stared up at the ceiling. It reminded me of the kind of outburst my usually calm father would have when I was a little girl. He’d seem unshakable during the worst situations. But then he’d spill some orange juice on his newspaper and he’d hurl the glass across the room

What a strange time to think about my father. How naughty.

A cluster of nerves in my ass were being triggered and I followed the sensation through my body. Water was entering me now. Ah right, enema. I actually really liked the feeling - this foreign agent entering my body through the unsecured back door. I felt it slowly filling me. I doubt there was any physical change in my body, but I could’ve sworn that I was expanding like a balloon.

Pop me, Daddy. I had no idea who Daddy. Whoever did the honor, perhaps.

Filled. Filled on both ends. I craved more. I needed my guts to be absolutely flooded. I needed Bald Man to fill my mouth and throat with his seed. If the woman wanted to put her mouth on my pussy again, she would’ve been welcome to it - even if it tasted like pee now.

“That’s good enough, I think,” Young Man said.

Bald Man grunted, though he seemed even more lost in whatever deep space his head was in right now. Glad to have shown you the way, sir.

Young Man’s hand was in my diaper again, slowly easing the tube from my bottom. I hated it. I didn’t want him to take it - I wanted more. But it was gone, leaving just the new sloshing heaviness in my abdomen as I rocked back and forth - seeking new angles for my mouth.

For a minute or three, I had found a new world of bliss in this state. Then, all at once, I started connecting the dots. Even my stupid little needy-baby brain was able to look ahead a short time in the future and realize what was going to happen. The enema’s contents weren’t meant to stay inside of me forever. It was a law of physics, I think: What goes in, must come out.

And when it came out - I could already feel a wave of urgency washing over me - my diaper would be there to catch it all. I had become a pressure cooker, and what came out would not just be the liquid.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. That was absolutely disgusting. Dreadful, sinful, filthy. Fuck.

I couldn’t wait.

Yes, my ability to shit myself in a diaper in front of a group of strangers could be purchased.

Actually, no. I’d do this for free. I’ll shit myself, stand up and walk right out that door with a messy diaper and Bald Man’s come dripping off of my face - leaving the money right on the table.

“Hold it, darling,” said Young Man. “You have to hold it.”

I didn’t like Young Man. But I’d do anything that he said. I’d hold it.

“You’re...doing good,” Bald Man said.

“Doing well, I think,” the woman said.

“Technically, I think both are accurate,” First Man said.

“Get ready,” Bald Man said - the calmness restored in his voice. It was almost alarming how calm he had said it. He could’ve been talking about climaxing, or he could’ve been preparing us for the season finale of his favorite TV show.

I wondered, for a split second, what Bald Man did when he wasn’t jamming his cock into the mouths of diapered women.

“Hold it,” Young Man said to me again. He had leaned forward and spoke directly into my ear. “Which of you loses it first?”

I had two and half decades worth of experience in holding my bowels and bladder until I could make it to a bathroom. I knew what that felt like; it was a gradually increasing pressure. But this was different. There was nothing gradual about it. Every minute that passed seemed to double the pressure I felt in the previous minute.

“Mmph.” Me again, groaning and struggling through the engorged organ between my lips.

“You stay focused on me,” Bald Man said, immediately following it with: “Gruhhh…” It started as if it might have been a word, before becoming something more primal.

“You can hold it longer,” Young Man whispered into my ear.

I didn’t think I could.

I was desperate. My agency was out of my hands.

One last long venting of my nostrils and then I surrendered.