“Go Get Your Stepmother One Of The Diapers Or Pull-Ups From The Shelf, So That I Can Change You. If

Mummy's Girl - Part 1

Kimmy might be a twenty-two year-old-woman, but her potty skills have never been up to the level of her peers. Living firmly under the thumb of her controlling, condescending mother, she desperately wants to live an ordinary life of a girl her age, to make friends and go on dates and, above all, to say goodbye to dirty diapers for good. Unfortunately, her Mama has other ideas...

***

Kimmy hurried up to the front door as quickly and quietly as she could, praying her mother was preoccupied with something and wouldn’t notice her sneaking into the house so late – it was almost eight thirty in the evening, which meant it was past her bedtime. She tottered a little unsteadily up the drive, thanks in part to the half a dozen or so shots of vodka she’d had with her college friends at the bar after lectures. But there was another thing making her walk a little strangely; a thick pair of oversized Huggies pull-ups were pushing her thighs apart, and one of her hands was pressed urgently against her crotch as she fought desperately not to wet herself.

If it wasn’t for her babyish training pants and the childish clothes she was dressed in (a pale pink frock that could just barely pass for something a grown woman might wear), Kimmy would have looked the part of the archetypal blonde bombshell. As it was, her long golden hair looked more cute than sexy in braided pigtails, and her generous chest was hidden, crammed inside her tight blouse. Her bright blue eyes, plump lips, and perfect complexion were model-like, but at present her features were scrunched up with the effort of holding her aching bladder.

Nevertheless, there was no doubt that Kimmy was a beautiful, fully-grown woman. Although the toddler’s pull-ups she wore instead of adult underwear didn’t make her feel that way, she was actually two or three years older than most of her peers at university. It was her mother’s doing, of course. Mrs Jones had decided on three separate occasions that her daughter ‘simply wasn’t mature enough’ to move on to the next school year, and had insisted she be held back – once in kindergarten, then twice over the course of primary school, making her much older than her classmates. But she’d been the only one still toddling off to the nurse’s office at breaktime for diaper changes. At least she’d kicked her pants-pooping habit by the time she’d moved on to secondary school, even if she did still have to contend with wet training pants on a regular basis.

Now, though, the age difference wasn’t nearly as important as it had been, and even her pee-pee issues had almost completely dried up. At long last, Kimmy was free in a way she’d never been before, free from the humiliation of being a grown woman who still went to the bathroom in her own pants. She only wished she could be free from her mother’s constant coddling as well. She’d been worried her mum wouldn’t allow her to go to college at all, but with enough badgering, she’d eventually relented – on the condition that Kimmy choose a local university, and live at home rather than at a dorm. Unfortunately, that meant dealing with the same rules she’d had since the age of six.

“What time do you call this, Kimmy?!” her mother thundered the moment Kimmy entered the house. “It’s past your bedtime, little girl! Where have you been?!”

Kimmy let out a whimper and felt the familiar sensation of her bladder letting go in her pants. Warm pee flooded into her pull-ups at once, accompanied by a faint hissing sound. It had been a feeble hope, but there was a small chance she could have slipped in without her mother noticing if she’d been taking a bath or something. But she ought to have known better; her mum had never once failed to catch her breaking a rule in all her life.

Apart from being a little plumper, Mrs Jones looked exactly like an aged-up version of her daughter; the same golden blonde hair, only tied up in a tight knot behind her head rather than arranged in childish pigtails, the same large breasts, though in her case her assets were proudly on display in a tastefully tempting, low-cut top, and the same crystal blue eyes and full lips, perhaps a little less pouty than her daughter’s, but painted a deep, sensuous red. The most dramatic difference between them were their expressions, however. While Kimmy looked shy and sweet, her mother gave off an impression of severity and self-confidence.

“I was just out with my friends, Mama…” Kimmy said meekly, pulling a face at the icky feeling of the heavy, pee-soaked pull-ups squishing against her skin.

Her mother sniffed the air suspiciously and her eyes flashed. “Have you been drinking, young lady?!”

“I’m twenty-two, Mama!” Kimmy whined petulantly, looking down at her feet. “I’m allowed to drink!”

“As long as you’re under my roof, that decision is up to me, Kimmy! You know your bladder can’t cope when you…” She paused, sniffing the air again. “Oh, Kimmy…” she said in a disappointed, threatening tone. “You didn’t…”

Kimmy’s bottom lip trembled and tears welled up in her eyes as her mother reached out and lifted up the hem of her frock, exposing the faded wetness indicators on the front of her sagging pull-ups.

“Soaked!” her mother announced, as she inspected the discoloured training pants between her daughter’s legs. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t be drinking, Kimmy! I told you this would happen! Mama is very cross with you, little lady! I’ve been trying my hardest to finally get you potty trained, and you insist on going out of your way to make it as difficult as possible! Maybe you’re not mature enough for college after all…”

“No!” Kimmy squealed, eyes widening in fear. “Please, Mama! It was just an accident!”

“Two-year-olds have accidents, Kimmy, not twenty-two-year-olds. Perhaps daycare will suit you better than university…”

“I’ll be good!” Kimmy said desperately. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Mama! Don’t make me drop out! I can be a big girl, I promise! I even have a date tomorrow with a guy from my class!”

Her mother said nothing for a few seconds. Then she sighed. “Alright, Kimmy. But you still need to be disciplined. Are you going to be a good girl and accept your punishment?”

“Yes, Mama!” Kimmy said at once, even though her stomach was twisting uncomfortably at the thought of what her mother likely had in mind.

“Then come me with, baby.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her to her bedroom. Kimmy’s heart sank as she watched her approach the closet, open the doors, and bend down to reach what Kimmy knew was sitting at the bottom. A moment later she straightened up, holding in her hand one of the enormous, custom-ordered Pampers that she used for her go-to punishment – diaper discipline.

“Mama, please…” Kimmy whispered, her bright eyes fixed on the huge nappy.

“Three days in diapers, Kimmy,” her mother said briskly, walking over to the large changing table that still sat in the middle of the bedroom and patting the surface. “Hop up. You know the drill.”

Her feet felt like they were made of lead, but Kimmy dragged them over to the table obediently and hoisted herself up.

“Good girl,” her mother said, quickly getting to work stripping off her clothes. “You just lie still and Mama will have that naughty bottom back in nappies in no time!”

Kimmy covered her face with her hands so she wouldn’t be able to see as her mother ripped off her pissy pull-ups and slid the bulky diaper under her bottom in their place. But she could feel the cool tickle of the baby wipe as the pee was cleaned off her skin, and there was no blocking out her mother’s voice. “There you go, Kimmy,” she said, pulling thick padding up between her legs and taping it into place. “Now you can wet yourself as much as you want, just like a baby. Do you remember the rules?”

“No toilets,” said Kimmy quietly. “No asking for a change. No touching my diaper.”

“Good girl.”

Kimmy took her hands away from her face and swung herself down from the table. Her gait was spread wide; as always, the Pampers felt absurdly thick between her legs – big enough to hold a full day’s worth of a grown woman’s pee.

“Mama,” Kimmy said hesitantly, “maybe I could just use them for number one, and then when I need to-”

“You’ll poop in them too, Kimmy,” her mother said firmly. “A full nappy will help you appreciate how immature you acted.”

Kimmy screwed up her face and tried not to cry. Wetting herself was one thing, but dirtying her diaper always transported her back to those awful days of her childhood when she still had poopy accidents. She wanted more than anything to leave that phase of her life behind forever. “Yes, Mama…” she mumbled.

“Now, brush teeth and straight to bed young lady!” her mother ordered, delivering a firm smack to her bottom to send her on her way. “No dawdling, or you’ll have a red bottom under your nappy by the time I tuck you in!”

***

The full story can be found on Patreon for those who want to read more.

You might wonder what your doing here. You seem scared and distraught. Well being kidnapped can have that effect on you.

You remember reblog those tumblr pages “reblog if you want to be diaper dependent “ or “I dare you to reblog this post it ,will make you urinary incontinence and dependent on diapers for life“ and my favorite “ reblog this post if you fantasize about being kidnapped and diapered against your will”. Well no more fantasize about it, today it be comes a reality.I monitor all and follow all who reblog my post. You know you be more careful who you talk to on the internet , there a lot of weird psycho people out there.

Your just lucky I’m not one of those people. I’m like fairy godmother, I grant wishes for people.

Don’t worry you will feel a little discomfort. The numbing gel will help things. You be restrained, and your legs , will be in stirrups for safety. At any point you don’t want proceed just tell me “stop” and I will.

Oh are you trying to say something? It hard to make out with that huge ball gag in your mouth.

Oh I see , your so excited to proceed you can barely contain enthusiasm. Now !!now !!you don’t want to make a mistake, you need to calm down so I can proceed.

First I’m going to slowly insert this micro optical camera into the head of your penis. I’m going to be able see if there any abnormalities in your urethra duct with build in camera in the end. Then if we see any abnormalities I will be to pinch them a use a build claws and use a special laser to cut them out.

Then when I reach that pesky sphincter muscle in the neck of bladder , the muscle that holds all that yellow urine back. I’m going so gently carve away at it with my tiny laser. I’m to cause the muscle not function anymore it will remain open so urine can dribble out slowly, and diapers will be requirement for life.

Kayla:  Ummm…Julie what is that sticking out of the waistband of your shorts? And don’t say those are panties, because they’re not like any panties I’ve ever seen before.  Plus, every time we were practicing our cheer routine I kept hearing a crinkle coming from you.

Julie:  Oh, that. That’s my diaper. (says it nonchalantly as she lifts her shirt up to expose the waistband of her diaper to her friend and fellow cheerleader Kayla) 

Kayla:  Your DIAPER! Why are you wearing diapers Julie?

Julie:  Well it’s a long story, but basically when I was young I was difficult to potty train.  I mean super difficult.  I would pee or poop my pants all the time, and would run away from my parents when they tried to take me to the potty, I pooped and peed every pair of big girl panties my parents tried to make me wear, and was only truly happy when I was wearing my diapers.  So my parents kind’ve gave up and just decided to let me stay in diapers.

Kayla:  Wow! Really?! And you don’t ever use the potty or try to be potty trained?

Julie:  I mean my parents tried throughout the years by suggesting that other girls my age used the potty, but I just never wanted to give up my diapers, so eventually they gave up and let me just stay in diapers 24/7.

Kayla:  And it doesn’t bother you to pee or poop your pants while the rest of us girls go and sit down on the potty?

Julie:  Nope, in fact I love it!  I love being able to pee and poop wherever I am and whenever I want.  I don’t have to worry about having to rush and find a bathroom worried I’ll have an accident like so many girls our age.  And my activities don’t have to be cut short or interrupted because I have to pee or poop.  I just go in my diaper.

Kayla:  But what about changing your diaper?  That still takes time doesn’t it?

Julie:  It does, but I don’t change my own diapers.  When my parents let me stay in diapers they said that part of the deal was I wasn’t ever allowed to change myself.  So they change me, the school nurse changes me, my babysitter changes me, even Coach Mullins changes me.

Kayla:  No Way!  Coach Mullins changes you too!  OMG!  I always wondered where she was taking you when we would have water breaks during practice or halftime during the games we cheered at.

Julie:  Yep, she was taking me to have my diaper changed.

Kayla:  Well, I think that’s pretty cool Julie that you’re brave enough to wear diapers.  I bet it’s kind’ve convenient.  Wish I had a diaper right now…I’ve really gotta pee.

Julie:  Yeah, it’s pretty great!  And you’re more then welcome to wear one of mine anytime.  But for now, you better go to the bathroom before you wet yourself.  As for me, I need to go see Coach Mullins.

Kayla:  OMG! Julie!  I thought I smelled something…  

I don’t need a bimbo. I don’t want a whore or a slut. I want a slave. Property, A pet. One that knows it is inferior to all Men but wishes to serve one Man above all else… to obey and cherish the Man that’s given it its new life. Humiliation, both public and private must make it’s little cunt throb. it wishes to leave its old life as a responsible female behind entirely. it no longer wants to make decisions but instead hopes to find a Man that will make every decision, large and small for it. it’s never told anyone about its desires….its true self but yearns to finally share itself….its thoughts, its wants and opinions with a Man, even though it knows they pale in comparison to His own. it wants to be little more than a set of tits and three warm wet holes for the right Man…a slave to whatever whims He dreams up for it…. In that environment, it truly will find a home.

Feels Like The First Time

This caption was saved by this post by @cookie-goodboy whose “baby book” idea resurrected this caption from my draft box graveyard.

She looks down at her soggy diaper in utter disbelief. “B-but I d-don’t even remember going potty, Daddy!”

“Does that excite you, Princess?”

“I…umm, I think so. But does this mean…”

“Yes, silly. It means you’re no longer potty trained. You’re Daddy’s diaper-dependent pamper packer, forever.”

“I just thought the first time I had a real accident would be…I don’t know…”

There it is again: The First Time. She’s focused on the “firsts” of our relationship and her diaper journey from the beginning.

I remember how excited she was the first time I put a diaper on her. The first time she made stinkies in front of me. The first time she went out in public diapered. The first time I changed her in public.

Every first was a cause for celebration.

She’s been so focused on the “firsts” that she never stopped to think about all the “lasts” in her life.

But I did.

And now that she’s unpotty-trained, it’s time to show her the project I’ve been secretly working on these last few years.

Her big book of “lasts.” She’s finally ready to read it. It has it all:

The last time she went out in public undiapered. The last time she used the potty for tinkles. The last time she used the potty for stinkies. The last time she changed her own diaper. The last time she got to ask me to change her diaper.

But there are a few things she probably won’t be expecting.

Like the last time we had sex. The last time she had an orgasm without a diaper. The last time she went to bed without a bedtime. The last time I thought of her as an adult. There’s plenty more to choose from, but you get the idea.

I almost feel bad, but what did she expect? I can’t treat someone who wants to become an unpotty-trained pamper packer as an adult—adults don’t enthusiastically give away every aspect of their adulthood so they can helplessly fill their diapers.

Obviously adult things like sex are out the window. Did she really think I’d want to go down on her knowing she poops herself three times a day?

Gross.

I’ll treat her exactly how she wants to be treated: as an unpotty-trained a toddler. Because that’s what she is to me now.

She’s not my girlfriend. She gave up orgasms and adulthood for a lifetime of diaper changes, early bedtimes, and Disney cartoons.

I’m sure she’ll throw a tantrum tonight when I show her. But what is she going to do? Not wear a diaper? It’s far too late for that. She needs them now—just like she always wanted.

I’ll smile the whole time she’s whining about her “lost” adulthood. The adulthood she willingly gave away for the pleasure of being wrapped in her plastic prison.

Maybe I’ll even start a new scrapbook for her. Her tantrum can be the first entry: Baby’s first tantrum as Daddy’s permanent babygirl.

A whiff of powder. The quiet chorus of crinkling plastic. The shiver-inducing sensation of her fingertips grazing his most intimate regions. And then, amid this incongruous sensory medley came her voice: sweet, loving as ever, but with a new note of amused condescension.

"Honey, you know the rule. You made it yourself, remember?" Blair was smiling softly as she tugged at the cotton-and-plastic layers beneath her husband's naked groin. "Oh, don't think I blame you. You're absolutely right that sheets are pricey, and mattresses more so. So it only makes sense that we take care not to ruin them..."

Felix groaned softly, but there was no way he could deny the truth of her words. He had been a bit of an ass about her periods when she'd had her first few nocturnal leaks. He might have been half-joking when he'd first grumbled about how the bloody stains wouldn't ever come out, and how she really ought to wear something more protective than a flimsy little pad. But the joke had taken on a life of its own when he'd happened to notice that pack of "adult briefs" in the supermarket and impulsively thrown it into the cart with a chuckle. "Dare you to wear them," he'd chortled when she'd protested at how unfunny his joke was. "I mean, if you can't control your own bodily fluids it only makes sense, right?"

It was Blair's turn to giggle now as her hands slipped dexterously down over his vulnerable crotch, pausing to linger affectionately on his respectably-sized cock. "Sure, I admit it. I guess it was a hard ask at first when you said I ought to wear some better protection during my periods. But you know, you ended up being so right, honey! If we can't control our own bodily fluids and keep from damaging the sheets and mattress, we just need to use a bit of protection, don't we? And just like we're not going to ruin our mattress through my periods, we're also not about to ruin them through your, ahem, wet dreams..."

"But- but- they don't stain as much-" "Staining isn't the problem, honey," Blair reminded him, her smile widening as she felt his vulnerable cock stirring into life under her rhythmic ministrations. "It's the principle of the thing! Why should I have to waddle off to bed in a diaper for a week every month, while you get to lay there in your boxers and spurt jizz into our sheets with no protection whatsoever – and no consequences?" She smirked and tweaked his nose playfully. "And here I thought you believed in gender equality, honey!"

It was all very well to joke about it. She didn't need to tell Felix how she'd begun to feel the oddest attachment – attraction, even – to these bulky undergarments. She didn't need to confess to him that, horny as she often got during the latter days of her period, she now felt more excited than ever when she felt that thick bulk tucked between her thighs and cupping her pussy. And she definitely didn't need to tell him that she was already getting wet now: aroused by the irreplaceable sight of her tough husband hiding his face in shame at the powdery humiliation she was gently forcing upon him...

No, of course not. All she needed to do was laugh and tease him into blushing submission.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, they say!" she laughed, and was rewarded with a groan of mingled arousal and embarrassment as she forced his involuntarily stiffening member down into the powdery padding beneath him. "Don't worry, babe – you can dribble and cum all you want to now! You'll be wrapped up safe and snug, just like me...

"Now isn't that great?"

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Please don't remove my caption or accreditation! As long as you don't, may the baseboards along your walls never again need dusting.

Like this caption? Want to read my longer stories? Check out my Patreon! :-)

First day in diapers ever! Thanks to @lolitafromictlan to change me and play with me!

A Halloween Story: Ghost Dick

Content Warning: ghost fucking, cnc, public

It started when I entered the house. My friend's friends rented the place for their halloween party and it looked absolutely awesome. It had everything: it was situated between tall trees, soft lights were scattered all around the place, most of them in carved pumpkins, giving the whole place an eerie glow. Paired with the low and dense fog it looked spooky. They decorated for the occasion as well: plastic skeletons and other fun halloween decorations were cleverly placed all around.

The inside was warm and welcoming, with soft music. There was punch, there were snacks, it was glorious. It was the first time I was really excited for a party like this when I normally tried to avoid too many people at once.

"It's a real haunted house!" my friend promised. Sure, of course it was. The whole thing was more of an old villa that was rented out for parties and such. It had a huge garden and many large rooms, perfect for things like this.

I felt a sudden chill on my nipples, causing them to harden and I was glad for my bra. Weird, though, that the cold would affect them like this. It wasn't particularly cold in the house. I shrugged it off and got myself some punch, mingle with the other guests. I wished that I had plugged my ass up. The weird chill on my nipples would be perfect. My cunt clenched around nothing. A plug up my ass would've made this so much better, but I didn't wanna risk it when there were so many people I didn't know.

There were some seriously awesome costumes all around, making me glad I'd made the effort myself. Spooky snacks and brightly colored drinks made the party perfect. I saw sexy witches and vampires, zombies, skeletons.

Then I felt it again, the sensation at my nipples. It was like something - something -, was touching them. I looked around, one or two women looked a bit funny as well. Was I not the only one? I discreetly swiped a hand down my front, but the sensation didn't stop. I made an excuse and went to one of the bathrooms. To my embarassment I couldn't hold in a moan when my nipples were pinched. My tits have always been sensitive. I stumbled into the bathroom, locked the door. My harsh breathing was loud and I was glad it wasn't a public bathroom where anyone could just walk in. I took a deep breath and slid my top off, then the bra. Yeah, my nipples were hardened and red aching points. They were so stiff and I thought I could see how they were manipulated. As if transparent fingers were there, rolling and pinching them. It certainly felt like it.

I could also feel how my cunt pulsed. I bet it was swollen and puffy, too. Fuck.

"Hey, you ok?" asked someone and knocked. Shit, how long had I stood here, looking at my own tits?

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Be right out." I slid my bra and top back on. What else was I supposed to do? I unlocked the door to step out just in time for the transparent hands to palm my breasts, weigh them. They rubbed the palms all over my stiff nipples and I felt a gush of my hot wet arousal and squirmed a bit, rubbing my thighs together.

I tried to look normal when I got back to the main area, but soon noticed that I wasn't the only one behaving weird. Not only women, either. A lot of the people around lookd mildly concerned, some downright aroused. I saw cocks tenting pants and people trying to hide movements between their legs.

I wonder what was going on. My arousal peaked when I heard the first loud moan. "Fuck!" a man that was about my age groaned. "Fuck something's sucking my cock, fuck!" He exclaimed and pushed his pants down to reveal a stiff, glossy cock. I was fascinated and I thought, yes, I saw something moving, bobbing up and down his shaft.

The friend that invided me struggled, but something forced her arms up and her top and bra off. "Stop! Stop!" she shrieked but to no avail. Her pants came off too, but her cat ears stayed on as we all got to see her glistening pussy. "Ghosts," she moaned. "Fuckin haunted, house," but she couldn't finish her sentence. I was in the best position to see an invisible cock spreading her lips and sinking deep into her cunt. It was incredible to see her spread around nothing, or, rather, around something invisible.

I felt someone pant against my neck, icy cold. Oh god. The ghosts haunting this house had just waited for this, right? For a group of people to come here voluntarily so that they could fuck them - fuck us. I was pretty sure my ghosts knew that I was enjoying this like the slut I was. A cock was pressed against my ass, slid thorugh my crack and I wriggled my butt against him.

"Come on," I murmured. "Is she goung to be the only once having fun?"

I heard him chuckle. How perfect would it be to have him haunt me daily? To go to work with him there, always being able to touch me like this?

I moaned when I saw my friend sinking to her knees, still shrieking and struggling. She didn't seem to kneel willingly and then I saw why. Another invisible cock speared her asshole. "Get out of my ass! No! Out!" Her body was rocked as the cocks fucked her in tandem.

I looked around to find the other guests in various states of undress. Some were naked, some only lost their pants or their tops. I saw tits shaking with the force of thrusts and cocks being manipulated but the best thing was when the first guy got ghost-cock in his ass. First he struggled like my friend did, but then he really got into it. He begged for more, harder, more more more. I'm sure he came so hard he blacked out for a moment.

And I was denied. The hands still rubbed my tits, pinched my nipples. I barely noticed him undressing me because I was so frustrated. Everyone got cock but not me. When I was naked, I leaned over one of the couches to present my ass and cunt to my ghost. His cock nudged my folds, thick head pressed against my entrance without being pushed in. I tried to wriggle it in, pushed my ass out but he denied me and just started to tease my tits again.

I watched as cunts and asses got fucked. At one point, the ghosts manipulated two guests so they ended up with his cock in her cunt while both were fucked in the ass. Ghostly figures became more and more visible with each orgams.

The ghost teasing me finally gave in. He eased his cock into my cunt slowly and I didn't dare to complain as long as he'd just fuck me. The sensation was incredible. I felt his cold cock in me, spreading me but when I looked behind me, nothing more then a faint outline was there.

My tits jiggled with the steady thrusts. I tried to pinch my own nipples, but an invisible hand batted my hands away and I huffed and moaned, as I felt a mouth at my left tit while the other was being played with by cold fingers. So, a second ghost joined us? I wondered if they were able to stand at the same spot? Once fucking my ass while the other railed my pussy? Could I tempt them?

I reached around and spread my ass cheeks for them. "Slut," the ghost murmured and I felt a finger at the tight ring of muscles. A thumb slid inside.

"Someone better cum on her ass, we need lube," I heard him and wondered if I was the only one. The other gueses didn't seem to communicat with the ghosts at all. I looked for my friend. She was begging and begging for it to stop as she was forced to orgasm agian. When she didn't stop begging, something was shoved down her throat. How many ghosts were here?

I pushed back against the cock fucking me, but the rythm never faltered, torturously precise and slow. My juices were already dripping out of my cunt, down my thighs. I moaned when I felt cold cum on my ass and the tip of a cock between my cheeks.

Oh, god, yes. They could definetly stand on the same spot. The cum was spread around between my cheeks and a thumb slid into my asshole again, deeper this time, to tease me. It was soon replaced by the tip of a stiff, hard cock.

"Please, please, please," I babbled when it forced its way into my ass while I was still pounded from behind. Both cocks pushed deep into me until they were filling me completely. It was wonderful. They pressed me against the couch, forced me to stay still while I was impaled on these gorgeously thick, hard, cold cocks.

"This one's a keeper," one of them said as I struggled to fuck back against them, unable to move, still pressed against the couch.

"Mmm, yeah. You would like that, right, slut?"

The cock in my ass started to move, while the one in my cunt continued to pin me. "We'll choose you. You'll be our slut and toy 'til next year's Halloween." Now both cocks started to move, slid in and out of my holes and I fought to keep my eyes from rolling backwards. "You see how many of you are getting fucked right now? The next 364 days all of them will only fuck you. All day, every day." They started to move faster, harder. I panted, moaned. Yes, fuck. "Get used to two cocks in your slutty holes, make it three. You'll never be empty again as along as you're ours."

They fucked my wildly, forcefully and pushed me over the edge one time, two times, three times. Countless times as each and every ghost in this fucking villa filled me with cold cum.

And as they promised, the whole year at least one cock was up one of my holes no matter the time or the place I was.

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@monstergasms I hope you like this :D it's not quite what you requested, but as close as I could manage.

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