Taking Control - With Part Two/Sequel, Apr 4th

[PeculiarChangeling]

There are some words I’ve heard a thousand times. A million, even. So many repetitions that they lose all meaning, except as signifiers of something else.

“Things could be worse,” to say, “Stop complaining.”

“Millennials,” to say, “Anyone younger than me who I disagree with.”

And, “We saw you from across the bar, and we really dig your vibe,” to say, “We’d like to use you as a sexual object, but have no understanding of how to maintain a healthy nonmonogamous relationship.”

The speaker of that last line was a woman, maybe thirty or a bit older, with a chintzy necklace and long, blonde hair. I could see her partner, a man a few years her senior, sitting at the end of the bar nursing a pale blond beer. Meanwhile, her comment was directed at another girl sitting next to me who was barely old enough to be drinking. From my little chatting with the girl, Katrina, I knew she lacked experience enough to recognize the threat in front of her.

Already, I knew the dynamic. His partner–the woman–would be bait, the friendly face to reel in girls for a one night stand, or perhaps a few flings, before discarding the girl the moment she became too much of a burden. Maybe the girl would need help with something, or just talk about herself too much, or assume that their emotional sharing was a two-way-street. Either way, she’d be dumped like hot garbage, and the couple would be on to a new target in a day.

I didn’t like couples like that.

“Here, let me get you a drink, have you had a ‘Red Headed Gabriel’?” the woman said to the girl. “Oh, and I’m Esmay, my husband’s name is Louis.”

The girl, flattered by the attention, smiled. “Katrina.”

Names. Useful. I filed those away in my brain and got to my feet, shuffling down the bar. Pulling up next to Louis, I said, “You’re new, aren’t you?”

He looked me up and down. I could tell he had no interest–he was here to find a pretty young girl, threesomes with another man were off the table. “I saw the event post on Fet,” he replied. “We’ve been poly for about a year now, though.”

I nodded. Another useful detail. Good. “How’s it treating you?”

“Oh, great,” he replied, grinning as he sipped his beer. I saw the brag coming a mile away. Retellings of his sexual conquest, and he opened his mouth to confirm my assumption. “I’ve had more girls…”

I tuned him out. I didn’t need to hear those details. I looked down the end of the bar, to where Esmay was wooing Katrina, plying her with a cherry-red drink that was far more alcoholic than it tasted.

“...of course, she does all the work,” Louis continued. “Can’t complain about having twice as many girls in bed.”

I knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from his lips, so I asked, “Always girls?”

“Absolutely,” he confirmed. “Sorry, buddy–you’re not our type.”

“Don’t worry,” I replied with a smile, one that I hoped would be interpreted as friendly and innocent. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”

“That’s the rule, anyways,” Louis continued. “Esmay can date any girls she wants, and so can I, but I’m the only man in the relationship. It keeps things simple.”

I hid my disgust with a sip of my drink. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m one of the event organizers here–if you’ve ever got any issues, you can send me a message. Can I add you as a friend?”

He nodded, taking out his phone. I got his contact info–his username, ‘SirDominant7’, caused me to hide an eyeroll, but I added him anyway. “I’m Davis,” I added, shaking his hand.

I had his profile, his face, and his name. I didn’t need much else except time, and a bit of effort, but I did need to do one more thing.

Walking back to my original seat, I planted myself next to the girl, and the woman. “Sorry to interrupt, Katrina,” I said, getting in the way of her flustered conversation with Esmay. “But I do need to leave soon, and we’d talked about getting you vetted for the next dungeon meetup–would you like to do that now?”

“Oh, sure,” Katrina said, glancing back at me. “When did you say the beginner hypno instructional was?”

Esmay’s smile flickered at the change of topic, but she said, “We can talk later, Katie–come down and see us at the end of the bar!”

I took Katrina to the side, and explained the birds and the unicorns to her. I didn’t tell her not to go with the couple, but I did warn her what to expect–emotional negligence–and ensured that dear god please she had to use a condom and make sure they’d been tested.

Katrina didn’t go home with the couple. She was safe for the night.

Now I just had to handle them so the community would be safe at large.

…

I’d expected things to be simple. With a bit of digging, I could typically find red flags, enough to put out a general warning to the poly community, at least those in my circle. Enough ostracization, and most unicorn hunters got the point.

What I found was far, far worse.

Louis wasn’t just the head of a crappy one-penis-policy polyamorous relationship, using women as threesome fodder. He was, to put it bluntly, a bastard.

Through the grapevine, through my relationships, I was able to count the number of people Louis had slept around with on the sly. He wasn’t claiming to be poly with these people, but pretending to be single, cheating on Esmay at every opportunity. He openly bragged about being a dominant, masculine figure, disparaging any man he saw as lesser, while slinking around behind his wife’s back.

Esmay, for her part, just seemed negligent. She didn’t seem to understand their relationship dynamic beyond being something Louis required to keep their marriage together. I couldn’t find a single partner she’d had as part of their ‘polyamorous’ relationship that wasn’t simply threesome fodder. She didn’t even seem particularly interested in girls, which made the, ‘You can’t date any men,’ rule all the more odious.

Maybe I could have done my usual routine–put out a general warning through my social grapevine, ensure that as many people as possible knew to stay away from this couple, and leave it be.

But then Louis made The Post.

The Post was six thousand words deriding kink, deriding kinksters, claiming that anyone who enjoyed anything not to his own personal taste was a degenerate–with a particular focus on calling out diaper fetishists and ageplay.

My usual methods wouldn’t suffice.

I needed to try something stronger.

So I went back to the bar at the next meetup. I doubted that the couple would be discouraged by one success, and my suspicions were confirmed–the two of them were at the end of the bar once more, eyeing a new girl who wasn’t even there for the poly meetup.

I waited for Esmay to make her move, then walked down to the end of the bar once again, sitting next to Louis.

“Hey,” he said, scowling at me. “What did you say to Katie last week?”

No need to be subtle. Taking a coin from my pocket, I held it up, so he could see the silvery metal shimmer in the barlight. “I showed her this. You know what this is?”

He hesitated. I had his attention. “No.”

“Take a look at the polish,” I said. “It’s…

…and drop.”

The induction took minutes, but the script was so familiar to me, and his mind so weak, that he folded like a cheap suit. When I said ‘Drop’, his expression fell, and he stared at me without comprehension.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I said. “When Esmay returns, you’re going to tell her you want to try something new. You’re going to invite me home, but when we get there, you’ll be feeling too under the weather–your drink won’t be sitting right with you. You’ll go out and lie on the couch, listening to whatever Esmay and I get up to. You won’t touch yourself.”

His eyes widened, but his mouth couldn’t respond. He stammered. A little beer-spittle dribbled down the edge of his chin.

“You won’t touch yourself, period,” I continued. “You’re going to find yourself flaccid, no matter how much you try, no matter how much you want it. Your dick is closed for business. When Esmay wants sex, you’ll tell her to call me instead, or she can simply please herself. For all I care, she can find another partner–but she won’t get anything from you.”

He blinked. I could see the fear, even in a face that couldn’t move beneath the layers of hypnotic control.

“And another thing,” I said. “I’ve decided I want control of your dignity–someone as immature as you doesn’t deserve respect. You will forget how to use the potty. You’ll understand what it is, that it’s something most grown ups have control over, but not you. When you ruin your pants, you’ll need my permission to clean yourself. You’ll need to go buy diapers, and when you do, I will control those too–when you change, and when you don’t. If you need a fresh diaper, you will ask me. Only when I respond–and not a second sooner–will you be able to clean yourself up. If I don’t have my phone on me, you may need to wait for a long, long time.”

There was one thing left to do. I thought this might be a bit too much–we were in public, after all–but in the moment I couldn’t resist the temptation.

“When I snap my fingers,” I said, “You’re going to stand up, squat down, and poop your pants. As you do, you’ll feel my control taking over in your head–with every push, you won’t just be loading the last pair of big boy underwear you’ll get to wear, you’ll be pushing out all your potty training, your dignity, your ability to get hard. You’ll know that it’s all gone when your pants begin to sag and you can smell what you’ve done.”

Smiling wickedly, I admired the way his lips trembled–I’d scared him so much his emotions were coming through even beneath the space I’d dropped him into.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

He tried to shake his head, his eyes darting back and forth.

I snapped my fingers.

Gasping, unable to control himself, Louis got to his feet. He was staring at me all the while–eyes burning with helpless, indignant rage, pleading for me to stop him, wanting any sort of interruption. I offered no such reprieve, and his furious, pouting blush warmed my heart.

Squatting down, he puffed up his cheeks, stifled a grunt, and began to push.

I saw it leave his face–the knowledge of how to control himself, to be considered an equal amongst adults, to achieve sexual satisfaction–and the stain that bulged out the back of his pants told me when he’d bottomed out. Even a dribble of pee escaped him, though I hadn’t required that, staining the crotch of his jeans a dark, wet blue.

He stood, eyes darting to the bathroom, but I hadn’t given permission. He could not clean himself up, no matter the stink wafting up from his sagging, stained bluejeans.

Esmay returned, then. “Hey, babe, who’s…um…” Nose wrinkling, she didn’t disguise her smirk.

“This is Davis,” he said, stiffly. “I want to try something new tonight–why don’t we take him home instead?”

She seemed uncertain, so I stepped in. “Louis said he was having some stomach troubles–Louis, why don’t you go get cleaned up in the bathroom while your wife and I talk?”

He nodded, eyes bulging with humiliation and impotent frustration.

I took his seat, and Esmay sat next to me, while her husband waddled helplessly to the bathroom to clean up his poopy bottom as best he could.

“So,” I said. “Would you be interested in another man? Louis told me you’ve only had girls over until now.”

Esmay’s expression was confused for a moment, and her face had screwed up from the smell, but at my question her eyes flashed with delight. “If he says it’s okay, absolutely, I just hadn’t expected him to change his mind on that.”

“Good.” I smiled. “I expect Louis is going to be changing a lot in these next few days.”

 

...

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[kirababy]

a great bit of turnabout is fair play...or perhaps unfair play, in this case.

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 1/23/2023 at 5:42 AM, kirababy said:

a great bit of turnabout is fair play...or perhaps unfair play, in this case.

I'm stealing that quip  

[diaprbayb]

[PeculiarChangeling]

Part Two

Esmay delighted me.

I had to admit–I’d initially spent time with her largely to keep an eye on Louis, and to play the role of service top. Esmay had little experience with a partner who cared about her needs, let alone safe words, and I felt a responsibility to ensure that my stunt with her partner wouldn’t lead to more unhealthy patterns developing.

However, though I didn’t push for things to go past what she wanted, my heart still jumped whenever she directed a booty call my way. I didn’t even care about the sex all that much–the preceding dates were becoming highlights of my week. She was wicked smart and had a whip-crack sense of humor–clever and quick, in all the ways that could make me smile.

And, in fairness, I enjoyed watching Louis squirm. Knowing how much he’d been taking advantage of his position before, how much he’d been taking advantage of Esmay. My punishment wasn’t justice, it wasn’t fair, but a little malicious part of me enjoyed watching him squirm when I walked past with his wife, while he had to give me puppy-dog eyes and whimper to change his diaper.

He’d occasionally made a show of joining me and Esmay when we had nights out, but that ended after one too many public poopy accidents, after I’d made a show of checking his dirty bottom in the bar, after he’d been left sulking in the car because Esmay and I wouldn’t call it a night early after his humiliation.

Now, he stayed at home, sulking, sending me desperate texts when he needed diaper changes–texts that I routinely ignored. Call me malicious, I just loved to come back to his home, pinch my nose to comment on how badly he’d ruined his diapers, and then whisk Esmay off to make her scream in pleasure without letting him change.

Still, one sultry, sweaty night, after our roll in the bed, Louis banished to stink up the living room while she got her pleasure and I got my satisfaction, she finally brought it up.

“Can I ask you about Louis?” she asked, laying on the bed next to me.

I knew the question, but I dodged anyway. Perhaps because I felt a bit of guilt at overdoing it, or perhaps just for the sake of the game. “What about him?”

“I looked at your profile on Fet more,” Esmay said. She was naked, with only a thin sheet tangled around her legs, letting the air cool her skin. “You are big into hypnotism play–mind control. Consensually taking someone’s control away. Did Louis ask you to do that?”

There were a couple ways I could answer. I chose simple honesty that deflected my guilt. “No, he didn’t.”

“But you hypnotized him anyways,” Esmay said. “Didn’t you?”

No getting around it. I rolled onto my side, looking at her. “Yes, I did.”

She looked at me. “Because you thought he was a creep.”

“He was a creep,” I said. “I saw how he talked about you. How he regarded the kink community.”

“Mmm,” she said, thinking about it. “But he didn’t ask for it.”

“He didn’t,” I confirmed. Guilt twisted in my chest–consent was the bedrock of our community, and no matter how much I enjoyed it, what I’d done to Louis violated that. Even if I hadn’t done anything to him directly, it still counted in my head.

“So you can hypnotize someone who doesn’t want it,” Esmay said.

I saw where her thoughts were going. “I can, but…” I started. “I shouldn’t.”

She looked at me. “You shouldn’t. But do you want to?”

Swallowing, I glanced away, thinking of how much I enjoyed watching Louis wriggle in his diapers. “I…shouldn’t want to.”

“Because,” she continued. “I can think of a lot more fun things to do to him. I’d like to do more things to him. Could you show me how to do that?”

Esmay wanted it, and Esmay didn’t accuse me of doing wrong by doing what I’d done to Louis. Further, I knew how cunning she could be–I wanted to see what she’d make of him. “Sure,” I agreed.

…

It was slow going, at first–Esmay was a quick study, but we were working with an unwilling practice dummy. Most hypnotists learned on a participant eager to have their thoughts stolen. For Esmay to learn from Louis, I first had to get into his head again, compelling him to sit perfectly still on command, to watch her.

So, Louis would sit on the floor, legs spread, diaper on display, while Esmay swayed my watch back and forth. At first, her commands were simple–making him sit down or stand up on command. Pavlovian reactions, little more.

But then, she started making it fun.

She undid a bit of my work, allowing Louis to get hard, but not to cum. Then, she made it so he’d have to sit at the end of the bed, rubbing himself through his diapers whenever Esmay and I fucked in his bed.

Hearing him whimper was pleasure untold.

I’d taken his potty training, but she did one worse. Forcing him to evacuate his bowels whenever it was most inconvenient, most humiliating, making him unaware of how soggy he was until someone pointed it out. With my permission, she took over when he could ask for diaper changes. If I was malicious in making him wait, she was downright cruel.

My little Esmay was quite the sadist, it seemed. She liked it when he was at his lowest, and I helped her facilitate that at every turn.

Slowly, more things started to change. His Fet profile was no longer ‘SirDominant7’, Louis was now, ‘DiaperCuck14’. I still cringed at the unoriginality, but at least the unoriginality was pathetic, and came with new profile photos, showing off his degradation.

I started noticing other changes, too. Louis became her live-in servant. At home, he did her chores. When I came over, if he wasn’t left humiliated and helpless for me to gawk at, he was sweeping or doing dishes or tidying. As often as not, he was doing those things in a drooping, exposed diaper, despite the open windows.

Maybe she’d gone too far–this had gone from humiliation to full control–but she was Esmay, and I really, really didn’t like Louis. Watching how he was dropped a peg with every visit was thrilling, as Esmay found lower and lower places to push him each time, digging deep to drop the pegs.

She showed him off to her friends, even when I wasn’t there. She brought a few other men over, which was fine by me–we were never monogamous with one another, and the more who could laugh at Louis’s pathetic pamper packing, the better.

There was one line I wouldn’t cross. One night, she tried to bring him into our bed, to make him suck my cock–I said no. Esmay was disappointed. She protested. But I held fast to the one rule I’d kept–I wouldn’t use him for sex.

Three months after I told her the truth, and almost four since I’d first met her, I came to her home and found Louis grinding in his diaper in the living room floor, suckling his thumb with one hand, rubbing on an erection through tented, sodden padding with the other. Changing supplies sat right next to him, a fresh diaper and powder, but for Louis, they may as well have been an eternity away. I smirked down at him.

“There you are,” Esmay said, walking in with a smile. “Good–I wanted to show you something.”

“How long has he been like this?” I asked, nodding to Louis.

“A few hours,” She smiled wickedly. “I wanted his brain to be helpless mush before my next session–I have something wonderful planned.”

“What is it?” I asked.

I should have known.

Stupid.

Stupid.

“A surprise,” she replied. “Just watch.”

She sat next to Louis, and I sat next to her, and she began the induction. She started from scratch–not necessary, for someone as scrambled as Louis, but if she wanted to do things right I could understand the discipline.

And then she snapped her fingers.

Said “Drop”.

And I dropped.

By the time I realized my mind had fuzzed, it was too late. I’d been listening to her words. I’d seen her watch–my watch–dangling in the corner of my eyes. Maybe I’d looked at it. Maybe I’d stared.

But I’d fallen into her hands.

Esmay looked at me, giggling. I just sat there, unable to move, only able to watch and listen as she crawled onto me, pushed me down to the floor, pinning my immobile body down with her hands and staring me in the face.

“You,” she said, “Aren’t going to tell a soul about this, my little one. Because I realized–what’s the fun in having just one plaything when I could have two? No more saying ‘No’, no more telling me what I can’t do with my toys, just two little stinkers who have to do whatever I tell them.”

(No. She wouldn’t–) but I knew she would. I’d seen how far she could go with Louis.

“You’re going to forget everything you know about hypnosis,” she said, sliding her hands down to my jeans, unzipping them, pulling them away. “That control is mine now. You just need to know how to obey instructions.”

My boxers came next, so I was naked, and Esmay continued her monologue. “You’re going to be just…like…Louis. You’ll sit when I tell you. You’ll stay. You’ll beg. No big boy squirties for you, just a tiny, hard cock grinding into your diapers. You’ll potty when I tell you, and you won’t even notice until someone else points out how bad you smell.”

She picked up a diaper–one that I’d assumed had been for Louis–and slid it beneath my hips.

“You’ll do whatever I say,” she said. “You’ll be all mine, really. You won’t be able to change your own diapers at all–you’ll have to beg and whimper and ask me to let you have fresh diapers, and then I’ll make Louis change you. But don’t worry, you’ll be allowed to return the favor.”

Giggling, she folded the diaper around my limp cock, rubbing the front of the padding. I twitched, involuntarily–the contact did it for me, even as my heart pounded in horror.

She taped the diaper onto me, pulled away, and smiled. “I think that’s enough for now. I can always go back into your head and change whatever else I need, of course. When I snap my fingers, you’ll do your best to make your diaper match Louis’s, and feel all your little ‘big boy’ thoughts of resistance melt away.

She snapped.

I obeyed.

Pulling my legs up to my chest, I grunted, squeezed, and felt the seat of my diaper swell, the plastic back crinkling as solid, smelly mush ballooned my padding. My bladder released, almost as an afterthought, and I turned the yellow indicator strip blue all along the front, completely unable to resist.

Esmay giggled, pointing at Louis, then at me. “Now…you two, kiss.”

We were hers to command. Getting to my knees, I shuffled forward, putting my lips on his. We were both repulsed, hating each other as much as two people reasonably could, but our bodies did as they had to. My lips against his, my dick getting hard inside my diaper.

“Good, good.” She snickered. “Grind on each other, too–rub each other, try to get desperate.”

His body slipped close to mine, arms wrapped around each other, rubbing the tents of our sodden diapers together. Already I wanted to explode from the need to release, and my body simply refused–it wouldn’t let me, even as I felt on the edge of orgasm.

“Good.” She got to her feet, laughing down at us, sneering, pinching her nose. “Okay, you two stink, so I’m going to get out of here–I’ve got a date with a real man. You stay like this, and when I get back, maybe–maybe–I’ll let you watch what it’s like to have sex. God knows that’s as close as either of you are ever going to get.”

...

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[kirababy]

I stand by my earlier comment    

[PeculiarChangeling]

On 4/8/2023 at 5:12 AM, kirababy said:

I stand by my earlier comment    

T'was a good quip! 

[Bondagediaperlover93]

Damn what a twist in part 2 when she hypnotized Davis too. 😅 Any chance there will be a part 3 one day?