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By Baby Jemma · Posted
Well, it's time for the third chapter of Salutatorians. As a CONTENT WARNING, there is police brutality in this chapter. ...Well, hope y'all enjoy~ Chapter Three: Police Brutality. - Ifor was panicking inwardly. Eiluned had collapsed, seemingly sleeping, and it was clearly obvious that someone had spiked her drink. He didn’t know where she lived, didn’t know if she had a roommate or anyone to call, didn’t even know if she was going to be all right. He called 911. “911, what’s your emergency?” a calm female voice asked. “Hey, I was on a date at Hell’s Kitchen Minneapolis, the girl I was with collapsed, I think someone spiked her drinks, please send for an ambulance, please.” Ifor said in a rapid-fire voice, clearly panicking. “You’re saying you spiked her drink?” the woman asked, her voice clear with derision. “And you’re trying to play hero?” “No, I don’t know who did it, I swear to whatever god you believe in, I just know that-” “Yeah, I don’t think so. Dispatch on the way. Don’t try to run.” Fuck. “I’m not going to run, but I’m telling you, I didn’t touch her drinks. She had two, I had two, but I don’t know what’s wrong, so someone must’ve spiked one or both of her drinks.” No response. Oh, fuck, they’ll think I did it, and I didn’t! Ifor sat on the ground, his head in his hands, waiting for the police to show up, and when a squad car did, the police - both of them with similar military-buzzed hair, only differentiated by race; one was white, one was black - weren’t friendly. “On your knees, get on the ground now!” one of them, the large white guy, shouted. Both of them were pointing guns (not Tasers, actual god-forsaken guns; seriously, what the fuck?!) at him, clearly panicking themselves at his size as he slowly raised his hands behind his head and got on his knees. “On the ground now, slowly!” the same male cop shouted. Ifor got spreadeagled on the ground, and they put handcuffs on him. He then felt a hard kick in his stomach, and he gasped, trying to suck in air. “Fuckin’ coward, you’re so much bigger, and you drug this girl’s drink because you’re not fuckin’ man enough to get with her…” the larger black cop snarled. “You’re gonna be put away for a long time, you fuckin’ creep.” “Where’s the ambulance for her?” Ifor gasped, feeling a horrible pain in his stomach. “Wouldn’t you like to know, you sick fuck?” the first cop sneered. “Get. An ambulance. For her,” Ifor breathed, beginning to get angry. Why were American cops so much less friendly than Welsh officers? He gasped involuntarily after the white cop got on his neck to pin him down. “You get up, I shoot you,” the second cop said, pointing his gun at him, before radioing in, “We’ve got the suspect in custody, but we’ll need backup A.S.A.P; he’s bigger than both of us, probable date rapist, female victim, need an ambulance on the scene, over.” “10-4,” the female dispatcher said. “Ambulance. For her.” Ifor gasped, he was already struggling to breathe with the kick to the stomach; the neck kneeling was too much. “Can’t…breathe…” “Hey, hey!” Ifor turned his head as much as he could, seeing a crowd of people with cellphones on, watching in horror. “Holy fuck, he’s killing him like Floyd!” “Jesus Christ…” “Fucking pigs!” “All of you need to back the fuck off!” the black officer shouted, as Ifor began to lose consciousness before he felt the pressure release and breathed heavily. “You’re lucky there’s a crowd. Don’t expect to be as lucky next time I see you,” the white officer whispered in his ear, as Ifor heard the chatter of many bystanders, some of them hurling verbal abuse at the officers, but one voice was heard in particular. “Hey, I know this cat, it’s Ifor! The fuck you arrestin’ him for? He wouldn’t hurt an ant!” A teammate of his. He didn’t recognize the voice, probably a freshman. Didn’t help that his head was in a fog from the neck-kneeling. “Your ‘buddy’ is a date rapist, and I will fuckin’ arrest you for obstruction if you say anythin’ more!” the black officer snarled. “I don’t believe you! I’m callin’ a lawyer, this ain’t right!” “Give me that phone!” More sirens. An ambulance. More police. “Check on her,” Ifor groaned. “Please help her.” “Shut up,” the white cop snarled as he quickly read him the typical “right to remain silent” spiel, got Ifor to his feet, shoved him in the police car, and slammed the door shut, the soundproofed doors silencing the crowd. “God, Eiluned…” He would never admit it, especially not to teammates…but a small sob escaped his throat. He couldn’t lose her, not like his family. He couldn’t lose anyone else to violence. Anyone else. He froze in horror, recalling that day, the old, ugly scar on his throat screaming his name, as he knew…he knew he shouldn’t even be alive. The fact that he had lived past six years old…it felt like borrowed time, an absolute miracle from a real-life angel, according to the doctors who saw him. I should be dead right now. I should’ve never met Eiluned. Those were the only thoughts he had as the police car drove him to the station, the two cops in the front seat laughing - laughing! - at something he couldn’t hear, as he huddled up on the long drive there. And then, quicker than he imagined, they had arrived and opened the door…with four swift punches to the head by the white cop, as he threw him on the ground, blood from his nose spattering the pavement. The black cop then slammed his boot on his head, and Ifor saw stars, and his world started spinning. “Get up, you clumsy oaf, falling down on us like that!” the white cop chuckled. “Pussy-ass bitch,” the other cop laughed. They hauled him to his feet, his head swimming from the punches and stomp, as he was half-shuffled, half-dragged to the police station, seeing a bunch of white lights piercing his vision, before they got him into a dimly lit room and dropped him into a corner before leaving him there, alone with nothing but his thoughts of Eiluned. - Hope you enjoyed~ -
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Oh no how absolutely surprising the lamina was abusive and had held other subs against their will in the past. Who could have known. I would love to have a little bonus chapter where Beatrice and Beth “talk” to the Lamina. Good thing Fiona works right next door. Seriously, don't you dare make the nice wolf lady evil too. With the human, I'm expecting a hunter for some reason. -
By Little Sherri · Posted
Still busy as hell over here. Still grateful to be wearing diapers every day. I think I'm running into the conundrum that it can be hard to come up with something to write about every day - some people I follow do it once a week or so, and maybe that makes more sense, but I tend to try to get on here for at least a few minutes every day - let's call it "me time" and often I am then compelled to say something, even if it isn't particularly noteworthy. I guess today is no exception... - Summer-ish weather is here and I'm enjoying wearing shorts more of the time, although we still get evening swings down into bring-a-jacket territory. I'm trying to resist turning on the A/C in the house because at night it's nice and fresh out. That has the consequence of the windows being open more, which is nice, but I have to be cognizant that possibility when I'm walking around the house in just a diaper and a shirt, as is often the case later in the evening once the kids have retired or if it's just my wife and I in our room. The trees around us don't yet have their full payload of leaves, and if I can clearly see over to my neighbour's property, then the inverse of that is also probably true. I pull the curtains across the window - plenty of air still gets in - but my wife sometimes throws them open again while I'm out of the room or in the bathroom, and then I walk in and realize I'm backlit in a big ABDL diaper against the blackness of the night, as observed from a swath of my neighbour's property that will eventually be completely obscured by vegetation. But not yet. - Speaking of unobscured views, I had to tell my younger daughter to delete pictures she took of me; I had jammed myself into an absurd position, trying to free up a lamp cord from under a bedside dresser, on my wife's side of our bed, without pulling out the bed, since it has storage containers under it containing offseason clothing, and never goes back without some fiddling. Ergo, I was at a 45-degree angle, feet on the ground, chest and head pressed into the mattress where it meets the headboard, arm obscured up to my shoulder in the crevice between the bed and the dresser, coaxing a cord that was hung up on something, when I head "Dad, what are you doing!?!" from behind me - my daughter had come into our room to get something from our bathroom. "Trying to free up mom's lamp cord so I can fix the switch..." I grunted. "You look like you've died or something, jammed in the corner like that!" she said, and then I heard the digital camera noise that a phone makes when it takes a picture. "Er, what are you doing?" "Taking a picture - you look hilarious." "Can I see the pictures, please?" (There is always more than one...) "Why? I'm not going to send them to anyone. I just want to show (eldest)." "I'd like to see the pictures..." She comes over and shows me her phone, and sure enough, there's three photos of me contorting myself into the headboard like I'd been fired into that corner from a cannon. And in all three pictures, my shirt is way up, and a wide strip of white diaper plastic is clearly visible (I'd been wearing a Rearz Select). "Please delete those..." "I'm not going to show anyone..." "I'd like them deleted because I know you and your friends flip through each other's photos for entertainment all the time, and I don't want to be part of that entertainment. " "Fine." In other "news", I walked into our bedroom, alongside our dog, a bit later in the evening, still in that Rearz Select, when my wife looked over at me and said, "Hello, Mister Wet!", causing me to startle briefly, until I realized that she was talking to the dog, who had just come in from outside, where it was raining. I, too, was wet at that point - I was at the "Should I change this unreliable diaper" TSN turning point, in my mind. -
By Albert-1701 · Posted
As a real little boy I was never just spanked. It was always a good whipping with a thick leather belt and it was done with me completey naked on my bare butt. Also, it was not just a single lash or two. It was at least 10 lashes and could be as many as 30 lashes. Yes, it did hurt and it did bring tears to my eyes. It was very difficult to sit down for a few hours after it was all over. However, I never said that I did not want it. I knew I deserved it and took it with no complaints. As an adult, I do not like being spanked or whipped. However, if someone wants me to spank or whip them as an adult, I will do it to them. If they want to act like a little when I do this to them, that is fine with me. I will do it only to the point of making it hard for them to sit down for an hour or two and there wil be no permanent damage to their butts. They can be either a ♀ or a ♂.
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