No Way Out

[Bbuttons]

Being stuck at home and self-isolating in these crazy coronavirus times, I decided that I would for the first time in my life have a go at writing! This story is partly inspired by the feeling of being trapped indoors, and whilst I'm sure not to everyone's taste, I hope nonetheless enjoyable for some and a cathartic experience for me.

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PART 1

I had no idea what the time was, but it was definitely the afternoon. The sun managed to just about break through the cracks in the blind dimly illuminating the nursery and in turn filtering its way through the bars of my adult-sized cot. Babyish smells of lotion and powder filled the room and looking through the bars of my cot, and now prison, I could see both my oversized highchair, where I’d taken every meal for the last four weeks, and changing table replete with supplies of thick baby-print adult nappies.

I could only raise my head slightly, as the locking medical grade restraints binding my neck, wrists and ankles to the crib mattress didn’t exactly allow for much movement and held me pretty firmly. Looking down towards my feet caused me to blush, perhaps more so than when starring up at the baby mobile dangling above my head, as I was wearing a light blue footed sleeper with the clear and visible outline of a bulging, damp and messy nappy that crinkled loudly with even the slightest of movement.

This had without doubt gone way too far, but there was certainly nobody to blame other than myself for this ridiculous mess I’d gotten myself into. If only I could have controlled my adult baby urges and desires and not succumbed. Now, in my current position, it looks as there is no escape, no way out, at least nothing that I can think of.

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When I saw her profile on Fetlife, I was instantly mesmerised, firstly by the profile photo and then by the list of interests that seemed to match mine so perfectly that I felt it had been put together especially for me; almost too good to be true. I was naturally drawn to her website with picture after picture of sheer and astounding beauty, each one with the voluptuous curves belonging to a professional dominatrix the likes I’d never seen before. I flicked back to the Fetlife profile and my excitement grew as not only did she live around half an hour away from me, but it appeared as though this Mistress wasn’t looking for clients, but rather a boyfriend.

To think that this could have been me was in retrospect laughable. What would a gorgeous, successful and powerful woman like this want with me? Needless to say, my good looks, albeit on a fairly small frame belied the tiny-dicked loser, who at the grand age of thirty-six was still a virgin and riddled with insecurities that went all the way back to my childhood, where as a bedwetter I was made to wear nappies at night right into my early teens. My night-time treatment plagued me by day, ebbing away at my self-confidence, and making matters worse, this eventually manifested itself as a fetish for nappies that made real relationships with women even harder that they should have been for someone like me. Still, what was there to lose by trying? After all, my desperation to be with someone who loved me ‘for me’ was almost as palpable as my desire to finally have sex.

[Shygoodgirl]

Can't wait to see where it goes. Not a bad start

Sent from my Nokia 3.1 Plus using Tapatalk

[D503]

Great start

[Bbuttons]

Thanks...I’m writing the next part and should have something by the end of the coming week!

[m_kohrt]

I like it....please go on!

[wetste]

Yeah it's a good start