Latest Posts by dangerousangleofadream - Page 11

Contrasts story ©2024 Julanni O art Contrast ©2024 PrincessHinami

Indeed, the contrasts are startling.

But for your head, you are completely encased in skin-tight latex, all black to contrast the light reflecting off its gleaming surface. And by contrast, she wears no latex. In fact, her pale skin is completely on display; she is wearing nothing more than the smile upon her face, a smile that's meant to lull you into relaxing, thinking you might be safe with her. In fact, she smiles because she knows she has you under her control, and you, by contrast, have no control whatsoever.

Your freedom is a thing of the past, your latex-clad arms and hands are held helplessly behind you in sturdy leather cuffs, a chain tethering them up to the special rubber collar, preventing you from wiggling them around to any different position. By contrast, her hands are free, and she is completely free to do with them whatever she wants. And at this very moment, her fingers are playfully testing the elasticity of your snug synthetic second skin as she teases your breast with her touch and tenderly pinches the nipple beneath the shiny surface, smiling a bit more as you react with a moan, proving a certain level of effectiveness in her practically effortless actions.

Your mouth is filled with the last pair of panties you were allowed to wear, humiliating you with their presence and their flavor, while strips of adhesive tape seal your lips, preventing you from ejecting the offending undergarment and helping to rob you of your words, crippling your ability to communicate. There is no begging for mercy now. But by contrast, her lips are free, her mouth casually telling you how pleased she is to have you under her complete control, how pretty you are when you are so helpless and vulnerable, and she smiles more broadly as she whispers to you as one lover to another about the diabolical torments she has planned for you, and how, this time, you will find escape impossible.

Yes, I see all these contrasts, and I also know you have been unaware of my presence behind you. I have been enjoying how focused you are upon your blonde mistress as you are so highly concerned with your very near future. You notice the casually cruel woman glance over your shoulder, grin slightly wider, then look you in the eye again. That's when you get the idea the two of you might not be alone, and you turn your head, looking back to find me standing there, smiling and nodding at the bare skinned blonde. Not having formally met her, I don't know who she is, but I approve of how she handles you in this moment.

I smile at you, pointing out one last contrast. This is your castle, your property, the realm you own. And now, by contrast, it owns you, as you shall now be the imprisoned property of your own dungeon, your frustrated moans of sensual need now belonging to this blonde woman, as much as your screams of agony will be owned, entrapped behind the gag. I nod to her in approval, then turn to you again and smile that I will see you after her month of keeping you in her cruel care. Then it's my turn.

How many people will have their month of owning the now-powerless princess who so cruelly treated them in the past? How many months will bleed into the next, when you will be passed along to the next person seeking their retribution? As you think of all the people you have wronged, you worry this could take years. Perhaps, when you wore the crown, you should have planted seeds of kindness and empathy, and you would now be reaping a more pleasant harvest.

Isn't karma a bitch?

Cam Damage and Vespa in full latex catsuits

Full video: https://latexist.com/spread-and-tickled-with-cam-damage-and-vespa-in-full-latex-catsuits

I Think We’re Alone Now

If you asked me a year ago, I’d have said that wearing diapers was the ultimate sign of babyhood.

It’s not.

Don’t get me wrong, diapers are inextricably intertwined with babyhood, but they’re not the defining aspect of babyhood.

Trust me, I know.

If she taught me anything over the past year, it’s that diapers are only the symbol of babyhood. Believe me, I’ve filled enough diapers this year to become an unwilling expert on the subject.

It’s not the diapers—it’s the utter lack of privacy and autonomy.

Yes, I wear diapers. And yes, she checks and changes them. That’s infantilizing enough.

But that’s nowhere near the worst part.

Do you know what it’s like to have absolutely no privacy? Knowing your own diaper is under her control?

Of course you don’t. You’re an adult. Adults take the right to privacy for granted.

How could you possibly understand?

Nobody randomly stops you and slides their hand into your shorts to check your diaper without asking. Nobody pulls down your pants and exposes your mess without you having any say.

Babies have no expectation of privacy.

And neither do I.

Look around. Does this look like a private place to you? Would you feel comfortable messing your diaper right here?

Yet, look at the way she’s smiling at me, patiently waiting for me to finish loading my diaper like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She doesn’t think someone like me—a baby in her eyes—has any use for privacy. She expects me to squat down and fill my diaper whenever and wherever the urge strikes.

Like right here, in this busy hallway full of people.

Real adults do their business in private—nobody ever would watch you do this—let alone smile as they watched. You get the dignity of handling it yourself.

Everything I do is public. Even if I’m fortunate enough to mess my diaper in a private place, it’s not like I get to hide what I did.

Nope, she’ll push me down and open up my diaper anyway, exposing my shame. I can’t run. I can’t hide. She is in control.

There is no dignity in this situation.

If you asked her, she’d tell you it’s perfectly natural, babies can’t help making poopoos when they have an icky tummy.

And yes, she’d use those same horrible, infantile words. Do you really think she uses adult language when she talks to me?

Get real.

I mean, look at her! That’s how a mother looks at their toddler when they know they’re about to be on diaper duty.

She’s my wife!

But it doesn’t matter anymore. Not when you’re in diapers. She’s way closer to a caregiver than a lover.

And I don’t want to talk about that right now. I have enough on my mind right now.

As soon as she’s satisfied I’m done pushing, she’ll check my diaper as publicly as this mess. She’ll say something in that same sickly sweet, babyish voice and march me to the nearest women’s bathroom to change me.

“Good job, kiddo! Did you push all that icky poopoo into your diapie? Yes you did! Turn around, Mommy has to check on her mush tush.”

See?

Savor your privacy. You have no idea how terrible it is without it.

His new girlfriend asked if I would hang on to those for a while.

"It's nice to have our own personal doormat, to wipe our feet on whenever we want.

Stick out your tongue, loser! Show us how desperate you are to serve us."

@obeymissmaddy wants you to be appropriately attired for your worship!

Could you do Sydney Sweeney with pegging and chastity please

Hmm... that's a good request.

You lost yourself for a minute as you stared at Sydney. It was still kind of surreal to be here with her... again. She used to call you only a few times a year. Inspect her chastity cage, then fuck your ass for hours. Then when you woke up, she would be gone.

This time though, she'd called you up again a few days after your last 'session' with her. She got interrupted by call and had to leave you unfinished.

You got quite nervous when you got that call from her so soon, this your body still got crazy hot and now that you stood there in a hotel with this bombshell of a woman you were trembling with nerves.

After you entered you found in her elegant black dress looking just absolutely stunning. The dress put her ample assets on display which made your caged up dick more that excited. It throbbed and ached in its cage. The keys were hers. The only orgasms you had were given to you by her.

"I'm glad you came." She spoke up, breaking the silence that had taken a hold of the room. She took a step or two away from the windows, grabbing the curtain before pulling it close, her now only dimly lit by the few lights in the room.

"Of course, Miss Sweeney." You replied, remaining polite even through your nerves. Even though you'd been here plenty of times before. A sweet smiled formed on her face.

"Always so sweet and polite." She noted as she walked toward you. She placed a hand on your cheek, gently caressing you. Her eyes darted up and down. "and so -fucking- submissive." She purred sending a rush down your spine.

She took another step closer then she pulled you in for a kiss. You froze on the spot. She had never kissed you before in any of these hookups. You were just a little fuck toy for her.

It didn't take long for you to be swept up into a passionate exchange. Sydney kept her lips planted on yours as she started taking off your clothes. You helped her out and soon you were naked and being shuffled toward the bed. Sydney's hands were all over your back and your ass before she pushed you onto the bed leaving your breathless.

There were something in her eyes beside the usual hunger. She usually would make a little show when taking off her clothes but this time she rid herself as quickly as she could revealing her naked perfection underneath.

Your cock strained as you watched her. She crawled onto the bed and she laid her body against yours and started kissing you again. Your heart was melting quickly and she turned your brain into mush.

Sydney pulled off again after a while, chuckling as she saw the lovestruck expression on your face.

"Miss Sweeney?" You spoke up softly as she stepped away to slide into her harness.

"Yes, my pet?" Her words made you shudder. Another thing she had never called you something like that before.

"I.. uhm.." You tried to look for the question that had just escaped your brain as soon as she turned around and you saw her cock dangling there ready to take your ass.

"Lost your tongue my sweet boy?" She teased you, stroking her toy for you. Your mouth was still open but you still couldn't speak.

"Turn around." She commanded and your body obeyed without thinking. You felt Sydney get onto the bed with you. then her strap found its way onto your ass and like the well trained little slut you were it easily spread you open and filled up your boy-hole.

"Oohhn.. God..." You moaned as inch by inch entered your ass until you felt her deep, deep inside you. Her body leaned over you and you felt her breasts press up against your back. You groaned as her toy was lodged inside you.

"To answer your question. I want you to be more than my occasional fuck toy. I want you as my submissive." She whispered, your whole body started shuddering as you felt her warmth breath on your neck.

And hand traced all the way down your spine before she used both hand to grope your behind.

"Unless you object to that idea." She added, slowly pulled her strap back out as her hands now slid onto your waist.

"Nnnoo... Miss Sweeney." You moaned.

"I didn't think so. I molded you to only cum by my strap, didn't it?" She playfully mocked you, slowly pushing her length back inside you till she was buried inside you to the hilt.

"Nngg.. y.yes... I am your little slut, Miss Sweeney." You purred in between moans and whimpers.

"Yes.. you are." She said with a growl. Her fingers dug into your skin and she suddenly started pounding you hard and fast like she always would. But with all that had happened it felt different.. better... so much better.

You heard her grunting and cursing at you as she drilled you.

"You are mine.. all mine." She growled in between powerful thrusts sending wave after wave of pleasure through your submissive body.

"Yes.. yes!! I'm yours!" You cried out back to her. Crying out when she smacked your ass.

"Shut up you little bitch. Shut up and take my cock!" She spat back at you melting you brain even more. Long deep, sultry and slutty moans coming from your lips.

"That's it baby. I want to hear all your whorish little moans." She encouraged you, giving you another little smack for good measure.

She kept fucking you hard until you screamed out in a orgasm that hit you like a fucking tidal wave. But Sydney did not even slow down for a second. She just laughed.

"Yes!!" She yelled at you as you let out the sluttiest moan she heard all night as she fucked you through your first orgasm of the night and it wouldn't be your last. She drained your balls dry and fucking you till you yelled out your safe word when your body couldn't take anymore.

You fell asleep in her arms like you always had and come the next morning. Your heart fluttered when you opened your eyes and found yourself staring at her face, she was still sound asleep and look so peaceful.

Your dick started throbbing away as happiness overflowed inside you.

She stayed this time.

You really were her pet now.

small-dck-energy

Of your three “regular” babysitters, she was undoubtedly the nicest. She at least did the least to humiliate or tease you.

One babysitter used her time with you to let out her inner Domme. She was exceedingly strict and any disobedience, even if it was a miscommunication, resulted in punishment. And she was extremely creative with punishments.

Your other babysitter loved nothing more to tease and humiliate you. Whether it was inviting her friends over to taunt the “diaper boy,” or just spending the entire night in Gryffindor-colored bra and panties, with thigh-high Gryffindor socks, making you wish you were a man, she left you would be positively aching down there with insatiable arousal.

But she was different. She wasn’t mean. She didn’t tease you. And, for some reason, you weren’t sure if that made her the worst.

If someone made an audio recording of her time with you, they would be convinced she was babysitting a toddler. It drove you crazy. It was one thing to be bossed around or teased. At least those babysitters acknowledged you were an adult, even if you were just a diaper boy.

But not her. Nothing she did, nothing she said, ever made it seem like she knew you were an adult. It was so convincing, so authentic that you honestly weren’t sure if it was an act.

She had never broken character once in the last five years. You tried everything you could think of to prove you were an adult, to force her to recognize—even for a second—that you were actually an adult.

Your attempts rolled off her like water on a duck. As far as you could tell, you were a toddler to her. She never let you out of her sight, except for your naps and sleepy time of course.

You had absolutely no dignity around her. She dressed you as she wished, checked you when she wished, and changed you when she wished. She blew raspberries on your tummy like it was completely normal.

You watched educational baby cartoons on a non-stop loop. And she always, always encouraged you to answer along and was just so proud of you for getting the right answers.

And nothing entertained her more than having you sing along with her to your “favorite” songs. You could never convince her you didn’t love singing and dancing to Baby Shark in nothing but a short T-shirt and soggy diaper.

All this because your bladder stopped working like it used to. All this because your girlfriend couldn’t handle your diapers but couldn’t break up with you.

But as you hear “The Wheels on the Bus” play for the 100th time, you know you need to start dancing…