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Blink

By: CeCeMonet



"Yeah Charlie, I'll catch up with you guys at the bar later. I left one of my PS4 games in the break room. I'm gonna go get it real quick," Evan said to a group of his coworkers before he ran back up the stairs. It was late on a Friday night and everyone else had already left for the day. He ran into the huge third floor break room and was about to go search for his game disc when he suddenly had to go take a leak instead. Evan rushed towards the men's restroom located in the corner of the break room first, content that if his game was still in the machine now, it would still be there in another minute or two.

As Evan exited the wash closet, he came nearly face to face with another one of his coworkers. Rena, a Tuluva Indian woman with gray eyes that he thought was one of the loveliest creatures he'd ever seen in his life. Evan was surprised to see her here still, but was even more taken aback by how Rena was looking so frustrated and irritated right now.

Even still, Evan was so mesmerized by her smooth creamy skin, her long, dark, rich, coffee colored wavy hair, and luscious, ripe, full jewel-toned lips that all he could do was stand there and gawk. Yet even with all her dazzling sensuality, she still managed to look uptight as always. Her hair was fixed in a bun and she was wearing smart, sensible work shoes and clothes, despite their casual work environment. Though she was still simply stunning to Evan, as usual. When she finally noticed him in the room too and staring at her, however, she scowled at him and the spell that had held him transfixed was now broken.

"Do you think you could come over here and help me get this door open please? I think it's stuck." Rena's words had sounded much more like an order than a request. Evan wondered again why she was always so mean to him. When she dealt with almost everyone else in the company, she was at least civil towards them. With Evan though, she always had a serious attitude.

However, being the gentleman he was, Evan simply nodded and graciously acquiesced. As he went over to tug on the door, however, what he discovered was that it wouldn't budge. At all. 

It appeared the door wasn't just stuck. In the couple of minutes that Evan had been in here, the cleaning crew had managed to lock the door from the outside. The cleaners had utilized the double enforced steel bar locks the company mandated in order to keep people from helping themselves to the extra snack stashes and break room equipment after hours. So basically, they were both trapped in their company's break room.

When Evan relayed this information to her, Rena's frown broadened. "You have got to be kidding me," she mumbled. Evan was none too pleased about this situation either. He had just wanted to spend his Friday night forgetting about this über long, stressful work week by relaxing with his boys. He should already be drinking some beer at one of the local downtown dive bars, and then eventually playing video games on his big screen TV at home until he passed out later tonight. 

Instead, he was trapped at work with a woman who seemed to hate his guts, though he truthfully had no idea why. Maybe some people just didn't click? Evan didn't really think that oversimplified answer was it though. He was thirty years old and had had his fair share of lovers in the past, so he recognized chemistry developing between a man and woman when he saw it. Yet when he was around Rena, he usually felt confused, unbalanced, and unsure of himself with the way she affected him like no other woman ever had before in his life. She did something to his biochemistry, right down to his cellular level their attraction was so strong, and he knew she had to feel it too.

Just then, as if on cue, her body unconsciously seemed to be swaying her to move closer to him, almost like some unseen force likened to a gravitational pull was causing her to do so. When she became cognizant of the mini movement, her scowling only increased and she purposefully moved herself away from him to go sit down at one of the nearby table and chair sets. Interesting. So it wasn't just Evan's imagination. That super strong, gut wrenching, soul-searing attraction was mutual. Yet it was like Rena didn't want to want him, so she was going out of her way to dislike him, despite the fact that she didn't even know him. He understood not wanting to get involved with a coworker because that could make things unnecessarily complicated and uncomfortable in the workplace.

Though the way in which Rena was treating him seemed to have a lot more to do with something deeply personal than anything professional anyway. No, this pseudo drama between them wasn't about some random, petty personality conflict. Plus, the way Rena's arm had ever so slightly brushed against his as she rushed for the safety of the chair she was now seated in, made him once again rethink his own policy of never dating any colleagues. If they could each give into their mutual desire and act on the lust brewing between the two of them, Evan had an inkling that it would be worth it for him to simply find a new job.

Evan debated for a moment. Should he use this opportunity to try and find out what Rena's problem with him was? Or should he simply ignore her? After all, she was behaving rather childishly... Ah to hell with it. Evan didn't have anything better to do right now anyway, and who knew how long it would be before Security made their rounds again. It could be close to another two hours before the guard returned to check out this floor so Evan and Rena could be released. Or even longer if the on duty guard fell asleep, as he was rumored to be prone to do.

Evan sat across from Rena and rested his arms on his legs, his hands clasped together in front of him as he leaned forward towards her. Though she was clearly uncomfortable at how his current position put him in close proximity to her, about a foot away from her, Rena didn't even flinch. She didn't look away either; she simply held her ground and now seemed to be staring him down. Even more interesting. Apparently, they were going to have a staring contest. This was definitely going to be a more exciting night than Evan had originally anticipated...

~

Rena couldn't believe it. A little while ago, she had ducked into the break room for just a few minutes to grab her makeup bag she'd inadvertently left in the women's restroom in here earlier in the day. She'd decided to freshen up her makeup while she was at it, and then she was supposed to be on her way to her favorite restaurant to grab a drink and some food before going home to enjoy a nice, quiet evening. It had been a long, exhausting week. 

She hadn't been at work until 9:00 pm on a Friday in a while and she hoped like hell she wouldn't need to do it again for a long while to come. Her job as a Senior Finance Manager meant that month end was often a busy time. However, Rena was normally able to manage it so that she didn't have to stay too late.

Unfortunately, one of her team's Accountants had been out sick this week, so she'd pulled double duty taking care of both her and Stacey's responsibilities. Rena hadn't expected to be here past 7:00, maybe 7:30 tonight, but some unexpected delays had kept her here later that she'd wanted to be. She also certainly hadn't expected to run into the infuriatingly annoying man who was now sitting across from her like he owned the whole damn place, and was even now trying to intimidate her. Rena had worked in the male-dominated world of the video game industry for nearly a decade now, so at twenty-eight, she definitely knew not to make any more concessions in this situation.

Evan's cockiness might irritate her to no end, but Rena Patel could handle herself in any situation. Even in such close proximity to the one man in the world that could have her losing all of her cool, poise, self-possession, and highly valued self-control... Oh alright. So it wasn't really Evan Cheong's self-confidence that riled Rena. It wasn't the way he seemed to always be so smooth and know exactly what to do and say no matter what came his way as the Director of the Game Design department. He was cool under fire in a high stress position in a way that could be envied by many C level and even senior level executives.

No, the problem was that Rena had never, ever in her life even considered dating a coworker. Yet, she always had to do her best to avoid Evan, or at least put up an abrasive front to get rid of him, because his very presence disturbed her neat, tidy little world. The one in which she was always in control, an alpha female who made no apologies, took no prisoners, and was always in the driver's seat. Utilizing whatever tactics necessary, her intelligence and her feminine beauty included, as weapons at her disposal to fight for every promotion, and other corporate advantage that she could manage.

Rena couldn't stray from that hard fought and won, blood, sweat and tears-forged path just because Evan clearly worked out and his handsome face as well as his magnificent body could easily drive her to distraction. His tall, lean, muscular frame apparent underneath his black colored "Black and Yellow" Wiz Khalifa t-shirt, and slightly baggie dark blue jeans. He towered over her 5'4" height, so he was likely at least 6'2". His tan skin always reminded her of smooth, creamy peanut butter. His boyish grin with perfectly straight, white teeth could nearly make her heart stop when he flashed it at anyone, but especially when it was coupled with his focus exclusively on her. Rena knew Evan was the kind of man who could easily make her a goner.

Rena also knew she couldn't afford to be seen as weak, like some silly, simpering, swooning little high school girl with her first crush on a boy. There was too much at stake with her career. She'd always opted for practical and professional so one major way for her to be taken seriously had always been to stay as far away from office affairs, gossip and politics as much as she possibly could. Rena didn't care about coming off as a frigid bitch. That was how she'd built such a solid reputation in the last nearly seven years. She wasn't an office flirt or a tease. 

She was quite simply a consummate professional. However, every time Evan was around, he unnerved her, made her feel wanton and sexy with the way his eyes appraised her from head to toe so admiringly. Other men looked at her with desire, so they were easy to dismiss. Rena knew without a doubt that there was no substance behind any of those leers. There was something much more authentic about Evan though. It was like he didn't just want sex from her, but he also wanted to get to know the real her. As if he could be the half African-American and half Asian version of Adonis, a sultry man and her personal knight in shining armor that she could allow to seduce her then proceed to actually lose her heart to...

No! Rena definitely couldn't have that. She couldn't even let her mind begin to wonder down that road. She didn't want to entertain that possibility because no one would get in the way of what she'd worked so hard to build. So she kept right on staring at Evan now, defiantly, but completely in silence. Firmly in control of this situation.

~

When the silence seemed to grow into a dense, tense, drama-filled, nearly unbearable force serving only to divide them further, Evan finally spoke. He did not, however, look away. He stared at her, unblinkingly and decided to go for the most direct approach. "So why is it that you hate me again? I like to think of myself as a pretty stand up kind of guy. I try to go out of my way not to offend anyone, yet you still seem to have a problem with me. Why?"

Rena stared right back at him, her glare so fierce, especially now that he'd asked his question that Evan was glad looks really couldn't kill. "Not that I owe you any explanations, but I'm sure you've been on this planet long enough to realize that not all people get along well. Even when they have to work together."

"Aww," he said and paused briefly as though contemplating her words, before adding, "So you admit you don't have a good reason to be biased against me? So then you're simply being immature? Or have I actually done something unknowingly that's causing a problem between us?" He paused again briefly, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he worried that she could hear it as he outwardly kept his composure, but still slid just a few inches closer to her. "Because if I have done something that's made you angry, I would really like the opportunity to fix it."

~

It was then that Evan flashed Rena another of his killer smiles that made her think that he should be a model for tooth paste ads. Or any type of model. His stunning looks reminded her suddenly of the NFL player Will Demps, though she wasn't sure why she hadn't seen that previously. No matter, she could still handle this. Just because her hormones were screaming at her to do something she would undoubtedly regret later, didn't mean she couldn't keep her cool under pressure. No way was she going to go sit on 

Evan's lap and rub her body all over his or throw him down to the floor so they could spread out and have more room to...

"Look, not everyone is as easily amused or charmed by play boy pretty boys like you. I'm only here to do my job, not make friends." Evan had stopped smiling upon hearing her words and even looked at her now with some concern on his face.

"Everyone needs friends Rena. But I'm not asking you to become my best friend right now, since I know you'd likely refuse outright anyway. It's just that I've noticed how you've repeatedly gone out of your way to ignore me or if not, to be downright rude to me and constantly have an attitude with me specifically. If you were so unpleasant to everyone else, I would just assume that you're grumpiness was part of your general antisocial personality. But since I already know that's not the case, then I have to assume that you think I'm special for some reason. I'm simply interested in knowing why."

Their staring game continued as Rena merely shrugged. Evan didn't appear to be particularly off put by her ensuing silence before he tried again, approaching her verbally from a different angle this time. "So what kind of food do you like?"

"Spicy," she replied, as if on autopilot, before she'd even had time to think about her response. Interestingly, something about any kind of heat and Evan in the same context, sent her pulse fluttering in an even more staccato fashion. Especially because she could see a spark in his eyes now that ran deep.

So deep, it threatened to erupt into pure flame, igniting a desire so ardent that it seemed to reach out and touch her, sending liquid arousal straight to her crotch. Damn! This whole staying detached and seemingly unaffected façade wasn't going nearly as well as she would've liked. Fine. If he wanted to play a game of linguistic sparring, she was up for that. She hoped...

~

Spicy. Wild. Exotic. Erotic.

Rena's one word had created a series of word associations in Evan's brain and subsequently, he was conjuring up all kinds of delicious scenarios involving the Indian beauty in front of him. All of them involved both of them being completely naked with sumptuous, decadent food he wanted to lick and eat off of her body. Combining the foodie in him with his intense attraction to this mysterious woman was doing things to him that was making him all kinds of crazy at the moment. Not to mention that whatever pheromones she had that impacted his ability to create a coherent, rational thought had thoroughly high-jacked his brain.

"And what kind of music do you like?" he asked trying for more neutral conversational territory. "The sensual kind, anything that's rhythmic and seductive. Something that can really get me moving," she replied in a way that was almost daring him to get ensnared in the challenging game of verbal innuendo they'd begun to play with one another. 

Instead of allowing her to get off the hook, they maintained the intense eye contact as Evan slid even closer to Rena.

"And your favorite color?"

"Anything that looks good wrapped around and clinging to my body."

Still keeping eye contact, Evan smoothly glided even closer to her. By now, their knees were nearly touching. The awareness between the two of them was growing exponentially, blazing like a wild, out of control fire. Before he could think better of it, Evan reached over and lightly touched her knee where it was barely revealed from the hem of her bland, conservative, beige dress. He continued to move his hand ever so slightly, creeping his fingertips up her leg until he was stroking a small part of her inner thigh.

~

Rena's eyes widened dramatically now, though whether from being appalled at his forward actions or from anticipation, she couldn't really tell. Okay, so maybe it was the latter... Evan's touch felt so good, so magical, so sinfully indulgent to her that it was like his fingers had been predestined to gently caress her bare skin precisely at this moment. The warmth from his hand was magnetic, electric, just right and oh so amazing. She wondered if it would be that incredible when he touched her everywhere else too...

"You know, if I had to hazard a guess, I might begin to think that you don't really dislike me at all. That maybe all of your frontin' in the last two years since we've both worked here together has been an effort to maintain some professional distance. And I get that. But Rena, aren't you ready to take a chance? To risk doing something crazy and exciting, even if it is a bit daring, maybe even reckless, because you know, I mean really, really know deep down that it'll all be worth it in the end?"

Rena could feel it, her resistance collapsing and melting away in this moment under the persuasion of Evan's words and coaxing, silky voice, not to mention the gentle caresses of his hand still on her leg. If she let him in though, she knew she would never be the same. She could already sense that the power of the passion he was promising her would forever hereafter alter her neat, boxed-in little life. Rena hadn't ever believed in coloring outside the lines before. She'd always followed all the rules to the letter, hiding all her fears and insecurities behind her competent composure.

Yet right here and right now where there was no need to continue the masquerade any longer, least of all with herself, Rena began to believe that it might be possible. That she might be able to walk on the wild side with this ultra-hot video game designer with the BlacKorean swag. Evan could help her let her imagination run free, let her mind take a break while for once in her life, somebody else was in the driver's seat. She had to let go and give herself over to the sensations that were overwhelming her and threatening her with both emptiness and disappointment if she failed to seize this unanticipated opportunity. 

If nothing else, she had to satisfy her own curiosity and see where this night would take the two of them. So as they both stopped talking and began instead to simply feel, both Rena and Evan's eyes drifted shut before their lips embraced and sealed upon each other's. Then just like that, as quick as a blink, the night was now headed in a completely different direction than either of them had previously imagined possible.

Blink- A Moment in Time



Blink.

Ted looks over at me from his Custom Softtail and smiles. That panty-dropping smile I know is only for me. The light turns green and I see him start through the intersection.

Blink.

I see a white truck coming too fast from the left. I know Ted doesn't see it. My heart stops.

Blink.

I see the impact... Hear it... Feel it...

I watch in stunned horror as my husbands body cartwheels through the air, strikes and shatters the windshield of a car on the opposite side of the intersection and slides lifeless and bloody to the asphalt.

I ditch my bike to run to his side, when suddenly a pair of strong arms are wrapped around me from behind, one around my waist and another around my arms. They are pulling me back, but I don't want to go, I can't leave my husband. 

I struggle against the iron hold. I hear the screams of someone in excruciating pain... then I realize... they are my screams.

The arms take me to the curb and sit me down keeping me in their tight hold. As shock takes over I can only sit and stare, trembling... silent now, unable to do anything but rock forward and back... I stare at the hands holding me. They aren't Ted's. They will never be Ted's again. 

I see the head of a Celtic dragon tattoo on one of the hands. It's the last thing I see as darkness over takes me.



 ~One Year Later~

With a flip of the switch, the lights in the shop flicker to life. Cass walks to the far corner where her trike is parked, hidden beneath a cover. She pulls the cover off and unplugs the battery tender.

Opening the garage door she rolls the trike out onto the driveway. Putting it in neutral, holding the clutch in, she hits the switch and the engine roars to life. Smiling to herself, "Nothing sounds like a Harley".

The trike is her baby. An '07 Ultra Classic with a Lehman Trike conversion, custom paint, black with green and purple "true flames" and a 120R engine making 104hp, it more than fulfills her need for speed and power. She rode two wheels as well, but sold her Sportster after the accident that changed her life forever.

Letting the trike idle for a few minutes was usually the end of what had become a bi-weekly ritual. She would shut the trike off, roll it back in its spot and after letting it cool off, put the cover and battery tender back on.

But today is different. Today the warm sun and cool breeze entices her like a friend with their hand on her shoulder. It is her favorite kind of day, one perfect for riding. She busies herself with the mental TCLOCK inspection that is made before each ride.

•T — Tires & Wheels

•C — Controls

•L — Lights

•O — Oil

•C — Chassis

•K — Kickstand

She smiles at the last, "No worries about a kickstand with a trike."

Satisfied that everything is in good order, letting the bike continue to idle in neutral, she goes back in the shop to grab her helmet off the rack by the door. She pulls her helmet on and tightens the chin strap then slings a leg over the seat. 

It has been a long time... too long.

"Time to change that." she thinks with a smile, clicking the shifter down with her toe, she lets the clutch out and heads down the drive to the road. It's time to get back to the business of living.

 ~The Following Day~

Cass checks the ID on her cell phone and sees that it's Terry calling.

"What's up girlfriend?" she asks, answering the call.

Terry is Cass' best friend and confidant. Her husband, Hank, had been Ted's best friend as well, and the two couples spent time together during the riding season and the off season as well, when many "ride buddies" didn't see each other at all.

Terry barked, "You didn't mention riding yesterday! You should have called!" she admonished.

Cass felt a twinge of guilt. "I know, I am sorry... it was a spur of the moment thing and I just didn't think, forgive me?" she asks, knowing the answer already. She didn't ask how Terry knew she'd been on the bike, news traveled fast in the lake area.

"Of course." Terry replied. "But now you're obligated to come out with me, Lisa and Lori for a girl's night."

Cass hesitated before answering and Terry jumped on it.

"You can't say no, you owe me now for not calling. And it's TIME Cass, time you got out and got back in touch with life."

Cass closed her eyes, she knew her friend was right. Life goes on and hers had been on hold for too long. 

"Okay, you're right, I'll go, what time? Taking one car or meeting there?"

"One car, Hank is playing chauffeur, we'll pick you up at 7:00."

"Cool, I'll be ready, jeans OK? Or is it a special occasion?"

"Jeans are fine, unless you want to make more of an impression." Terry teased.

"No, not likely that's gonna happen any time soon, I'll see you at 7:00."

Cass checked her closet for something to wear in case she needed to do some laundry before getting ready for the evening. She had turned down countless invitations out with her friends over the past few months. They meant well, trying to pull her out of the depression that had kept her firmly in it's grasp. 

Getting on with life was one of the things she had thought about while riding the day before. It was time to pull herself up and get on with it and yesterday had been a good start. Tonight would be fun, she wouldn't let it be otherwise.

Donning her favorite pair of Silvers jeans, a body hugging Harley t-shirt, and her kick ass boots, Cass put the finishing touches on her makeup and hair. 

At 5'3", 150 pounds, she wasn't skinny, but she wasn't fat either. Her tummy was flat, her breasts and hips full, giving her a decidedly curvy figure.

The heels gave her an extra 6" of height, making her legs look longer than they really are. She didn't use much makeup, and her long hair was naturally straight as well as being naturally platinum. Many people thought she was a blond, but the reality was that her hair had turned grey and then white by the time she was in her early 30's. Most of the people she knew now had never known her with dark hair.

"Not too bad for 50-ish." she smiled to herself, grabbed her purse, and headed out the door to her friends in the waiting car.

Hank dropped them off at a local night spot with orders to call when they were ready to come home. The women knew the place would insure a safe evening, since it was bound to have some "ride buddies" who would watch out for them.

Sure enough, as they entered the door several people called out to them with greetings, a few whistles, and some remarks about leaving the guys at home. They made their way to an open table.

"You ladies know what you want to drink?" the waitress was on the ball tonight.

"A pitcher of margaritas should be a good start," Cass said, putting some bills on the table.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back." the waitress said with a smile.

"Look out, they're starting to circle already." Terry nudged Cass with her elbow.

"Let them, there's no place to land here." Cass replied.

"Come on Cass", Terry admonished,"Give a guy a break, at least a dance or two wouldn't hurt."

Cass smirked at her friend, shaking her head.

Cass looked around the open space to gauge the crowd. Not terribly busy yet, but there were a few men she knew to be single, a couple she knew would have her back if things got sticky, and a few she didn't know at all... and they were the ones that seemed to be looking back in her direction.

A few minutes later a man approached their table. He was tall, well over six feet, nice build judging from the way his shirt hugged his body and his Levis fit just so, a pair of nice Tony Lamas under the hem. He appeared to be about 45 to 50. Good looking in a rugged sort of way.

"Evening Ladies", he said in a deep voice with a hint of a drawl. He introduced himself as Logan. They all smiled and greeted him warmly, then all eyes looked to Cass.

"Great, throw me under the bus bitches." she thought to herself as Logan's gaze followed theirs to her.

"How about a dance pretty lady?" he asked, holding his hand out to her.

"It's your toes cowboy." she replied, placing her hand in his and letting him guide her to the dance floor.

The song "Home" by Phil Phillips started playing, and Cass immediately recognized her favorite song. Closing her eyes, she gave herself over to the thumping beat, even singing along to the chorus.

As the song ends, she realizes Logan is staring at her with a broad smile, "You seem to really like that song."

Feeling herself turn red, Cass replies, "Current favorite, sorry if I kind of left you by yourself."

"No worries Darlin', I enjoyed the show." he said in a voice low and sensual.

A shiver ran down Cass' spine as his voice reverberated through her body. A feeling that had been dormant for a year suddenly sprang to life. Feeling a twinge of guilt, Cass excused herself, using the excuse that her boots weren't made for dancing, which wasn't far from the truth.

Logan asked for a rain check and she smiled with a nod. Someone dropped a glass and he glanced away in the direction of the crash. When he looked back Cass was across the room sitting back down at the table with her friends.

"How does she walk so fast in those damn heels?" he thought with a grin. He wasn't going to let her slip under his radar now, that he was sure of. 

Watching her dance had him trying to concentrate on multiplication tables to control his rising erection. Desires he tried to keep under control but bubbling just under the surface had him wanting to cage her jaw until she submitted to him and mark her as his. "Down boy." he growled to himself.

The others gave her a little razzing when she got back to the table. "Geez, you all need to get lives and quit trying live vicariously through mine."

The pitcher was almost empty, so Cass topped off a couple of the glasses and took the pitcher to the bar to get it refilled.

While waiting for the bartender Cass felt a body move in behind her, she looked to see a kid, well, a kid to her, maybe 22, eyeing her through slightly bloodshot eyes.

"You're pretty", he said smiling.

"Thanks." she nodded, and turned her back to him. She felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Three bikers sitting at a nearby table saw what was going on at the bar. 

"Here we go guys." one said, pointing toward Cass and her admirer.

"He's treading on dangerous ground." another added.

"Five bucks says there's bloodshed." stated the third, putting a bill on the table.

"Ten says she makes him cry." the second snickered, putting his money with the rest.

"What do you say I buy you a drink and then we go someplace for a little fun?" the kid said to Cass, as suggestively as he could muster.

"I don't think so, but thanks anyway." Cass tried to be polite, hoping he'd go away before her patience wore thin.

Another tap on her shoulder... 

Too late.

"Come on," he persisted, "You look like the type to go for it."

The guys at the table collectively held their breath...

Cass turned to face the kid, straightened her back, drawing herself up as tall as she could, narrowed her dark brown eyes and said in a commanding voice...

"I am not a cougar, I am not interested in teaching young boys what to do with their dicks. I like men who know what to do with their brain, their hands and their junk, in that order. I would chew you up and spit you out. You'd be licking your wounds for the next twenty years and I would never give you another thought. And I don't think that is what you want... not REALLY."

She then placed a manicured finger under his chin and closed his gaping mouth. 

She turned to the bartender, who was grinning from ear to ear. "Another pitcher of margaritas please."

"Yes M'am." he chortled.

She turned back to the kid who was still standing behind her, dumbstruck. 

"Are you still here?" she asked, impatiently.

"No M'am!" he said, finally finding his voice again, and with that he turned on his heel and disappeared as quickly as possible.

The three bikers at the table laughed, picking up their own bets, deciding that none of them had won or lost. 

"It was close though, I thought I saw a tear almost fall." said one.

Cass returned to the table where her friends sat laughing hysterically.

"You bitches are no help what so ever!" she spat as she sat down and refilled her glass. Laughter erupted again.

Terry leaned over and put her head on Cass' shoulder, "It's good to have you back." Cass shoved Terry back up straight and shook her head with a smile.

The rest of the evening was going well, the friends got happily tipsy, the bikers kept an eye on them in case anyone got out of hand, but they knew with Cass along, that wouldn't be too likely. That was one lady who could always take care of herself, tipsy or not.

Cass watched as Logan approached the table. Terry nudged her, "Look who wants another dance." she whispered.

"Actually," he said, holding out his large hand to Cass, "I was hoping you would join me for a drink."

"She'd be glad to!" Terry almost shouted, pushing Cass off her chair toward Logan.

Cass glared at her friend. 

"One drink, and I have my own." she conceded, picking up her glass. He nodded, placing a hand in the small of her back, directed her toward a secluded booth in the corner of the bar.

They sat in silence for a minute, watching each other, each gauging the others expression. Looking for a sign of something neither was quite sure of.

"You're a beautiful woman Cass" Logan said, barely audible above the music.

"Thank you" she replied slowly, her brow slightly furrowed.

"Does the fact that I find you attractive make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes... no... not exactly" Cass stammered.

"Care to explain?" he asked.

"I was recently widowed, a bike accident a year ago." she offered, "I don't know if this is a path I am ready to take."

Logan looked into her eyes, his ice blue orbs locked with her brown ones, he took a deep breath and replied, "I know."

Cass sat back, she looked at Logan, scrutinizing him, looking for something that would give away how he would know that. It was then that she noticed his hands. Clasped around his drink, she saw it, the dragon tattoo.

"You." she said softly, "It was you."

"Yes."

Cass closed her eyes, remembering that horrible day as if it were yesterday. Every instant clearly defined. Every second of gut twisting pain flooding back. Her eyes were brimming with unshed tears when she opened them.

"You passed out." Logan explained, "They put you in an ambulance, I had no idea who you were, if I would ever see you again. I never had the chance to tell you how sorry I was. I recognized you when you came in with your friends. I realized that you had never seen my face."

Cass listened in stunned silence. This was the man who had wrenched her away from a horrible scene, protected her. But she'd been denied the chance to say goodbye, to possibly hear a last word, see one last flicker of life.

"He might have still been alive." she whispered.

"He wasn't." Logan reached out and took her hands in his.

"He... I..." she was unsure what she wanted to say.

"You will have to trust me Cass, he wasn't alive, it's better that you don't have seeing his body as your last memory."

The tears spilled down her cheeks. 

Logan moved to her side of the booth, both to be closer to her, and to shield her from anyone watching. He felt the same all encompassing need to protect her that he had felt that day.

He pulled her to his chest and rubbed her back as she cried, shaking, her body wracked with sobs.

"I never cried." Cass wept, the words muffled against his chest, "I never cried for him." She cried now with renewed grief.

"Let it out Cass. Let it go now." Logan soothed, holding her tighter, his chin resting on her head.

He held her until her tears stopped, until she pulled away to wipe the wetness from her face. He offered her a handkerchief, which she gladly accepted.

"I've made a mess of your shirt."

"It will wash."

He took the kerchief from her and dabbed at a couple places she missed. "There, beautiful as ever."

Cass let out a small laugh, "I'll bet you say that to all the women who ruin your shirts."

"No Cass... only you."

They continued an intimate conversation for another hour, until interrupted by Terry. "We're leaving, Cass, you ready to go? What happened?" Terry asked when she saw Cass' tear reddened eyes.

Cass glanced up at Logan and saw the almost imperceptible shake of his head. "I'm fine Terry, really. Umnnn... no, I'm not ready to leave. You go ahead, I'll be fine. I can take a taxi."

Logan looked at Terry, "No worries, I will see that she gets home safe and sound."

Terry looked back and forth between Logan and Cass. "Okay... I expect a phone call when you get home, no matter what time it is... you don't call me, I call the police... git it?"

"Got it girlfriend." Cass laughed, but she knew Terry was serious.

Cass and Logan continued talking for another hour, getting to know each other, until Cass started getting sleepy.

"Damn," she groaned, "I am not use to staying up late anymore!"

Logan grinned, "Let's get you home then sleepyhead."

Cass eyed him, considering his offer. "I can take a cab."

Logan stood, held out a large hand and in a voice that brooked no argument, "I will take you home."

Cass started to argue anyway, but stopped short. She considered how she felt, how he had made her feel all evening. She admitted to herself that she'd felt nothing but safe and protected while in his presence. 

Something about him pulled at her... deep inside. Something which had been dormant for the past year... her natural need to submit.

No one who knew her would believe it. Cass Winters... a submissive. But she was. Ted had been her first and only Dom. When he died, she thought that part of her died with him. Ted was her Dom only in the bedroom. It had been Ted who had helped her understand her need to be tied, spanked, paddled... even flogged and whipped on occasion. 

Cass has a temper... a very bad temper. Only through years of practice had she learned to keep it reigned in enough to keep from losing it and hurting someone. But that meant it eventually had to go somewhere.

With Ted's help as her Dom, they figured out that tying her, and then flogging or whipping her long enough, until the tears came, would allow her to let go of all that she kept penned up. It allowed a cathartic release, without anyone getting hurt in the process.

Pain, yes... that was part of it. The first hard strikes would instantly make Cass lose her temper. Any unexpected pain would do that. Heaven forbid anyone ever hit her or do something that caused her pain, real pain... she could and more than likely, would... kill them, unless she'd been able to release her anger recently.

And it had been over a year since the last time.

She hadn't thought about trying to find another Dom, someone who could top for her only when she needed that release. The lake area was too small. Too many people too interested in other people's business. And it required too much trust to place herself in such a vulnerable position with just anyone.

And now, standing before her, holding his hand out to her, was a man she she felt may already know that she was a willing sub.

Cass stood on shaky legs, took his hand, and allowed him to lead her from the bar to his truck. Logan helped her into the passenger side, reached in and buckled the seat belt around her. He then walked around the front to enter the driver's side.

"Directions?" he clipped. Cass told him how to get to her house, then was silent on the ride there. She wasn't sure what was different, but something was.

When they arrived, Logan drove up the driveway and around to the back of the house, parking by the deck. Cass was out of the truck as Logan walked to her side, closing the door behind her.




Blink- A Moment in Time



They walked to the back door and Cass drew her keys from her purse and fiddled with them until she found the correct key. Logan took the keys from her, unlocked the door and opened it for her.

Cass was unsure what to do. She wanted to ask him in, but at the same time, she was feeling... off. She was having feelings she couldn't define, or simply wouldn't.

Logan made the decision for her. He followed her inside as she walked through the kitchen into the dining room. He stopped behind her, wrapped his large arms around her and held her. 

"Tell me what you are thinking." he whispered against her ear.

Cass closed her eyes and felt her body melt into his embrace. "I don't know what I feel." she replied, "I am torn between what I think I should feel and what I want to feel."

Logan nodded in understanding, and turned her to face him, "Trust me?"

Cass nodded her head. "That won't do Cass, I want you to answer me, do you trust me?" he repeated.

"Yes, I trust you."

"Bedroom?"

"Upstairs." she nodded toward the stairs.

"Now, Cass."

They climbed the stairs to the spacious master suite. The room dominated by a large four poster bed with a soft velvet covered seat at the foot. Logan took in the surroundings, noting with interest the wear marks on the posts, the sight sending a zing straight to his now hardening member.

With his suspicions now confirmed, he knew he couldn't let her go. His heart was thudding hard in his chest. His muscles tightened, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and get his mind back on track. He had to be in control of himself if he was going to make this work.

Cass turned to face him. He was standing before her, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides, feet apart, stance ramrod straight. His eyes were sharp glints of blue ice, piercing and... hungry.

The look in his eyes alone almost had Cass dropping to her knees before him. If there was any doubt in her mind before that he was a true alpha male, there certainly wasn't any now. And for the first time, since the last time Ted had taken her, she felt her pussy clench with desire.

"Clothes," he ordered rather than asked. 

Cass took off her boots, then her shirt, unbuttoned her jeans, sliding the zipper down and shimmying them over her hips, down her legs and stepping out of them. Her eyes still firmly locked with his. She stood before him, completely naked, vulnerable.

Only then did Logan remove his boots and socks, and undo the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off his muscled shoulders, exposing the broad expanse of his chest. Now, for the first time, she could see the rest of the dragon tattoo. 

In glorious colors of green and blue, it wound it's way around his massive arm, accentuating his muscles, the tail disappearing around his bicep to the back of his shoulder then over it, returning to his chest, down his pec to his abs.

When he moved, it came alive, mesmerizing her with it's undulations.

He saw her face as she watched his tattoo. 

"Why a dragon?" she asked. 

"I am right handed." he replied. Flexing his fingers and looking at the dragon's head. "You will feel the bite of the dragon when I spank, flog or whip you."

Cass nodded I silent agreement, a shiver running up her spine, visibly shaking her body.

He beaconed to her, and she closed the distance between them. 

"You understand what I want Cass?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, trembling.

Logan stroked a finger gently down her cheek, her neck and down her chest to her breast. Pausing at her nipple, he brushed the back of his knuckles against the sensitive bud and noticed the shiver that raised a wave of goose flesh across her skin. Causing a soft whimper of desire to escape her lips.

"Responsive," he murmured... "Just as I knew you would be."

Cass shivered again, her knees threatening to buckle. She realized at this moment that she was exactly where she needed to be.

Where she belonged.

Logan placed a hand on her head, pressing just enough that she knew he wanted her on her knees. She sank to the floor before him, sitting on her heels, head down, hands splayed on her parted thighs.

"Perfect my pet," he said in a low voice.

Cass smiled.

Logan moved across the room and on a hunch, checked a medium sized chest on a dresser and found what he needed. Soft ropes, nipple clamps, a flogger and a few other items. 

"We will discuss these things, and get to know each other better before we start playing with them, except for the ropes. These I will put to use tonight." 

Cass felt the bottom of her stomach drop and her pussy tighten in response to his words.

Logan instructed her to rise and lay on the bed, face up, her hands above her head. She quickly complied. He tied her wrists, securing the rope to a convenient eye bolt in the center of the headboard. He then tied each ankle and secured the ropes to the posts. He ran a finger under each rope, making sure they weren't too tight. She was spread eagle, exposed... and so very aroused.

Logan grasped a pillow and shoved it under her butt, exposing her even more. He climbed on the bed, knelt between her thighs and gazed at her.

"So beautiful... so fucking beautiful." he whispered. 

Reaching out, he stroked a finger between the folds of her pussy, "And wet, already wet for me." 

Cass couldn't help a moan of want and need.

He bent down, and laved his tongue over her heated flesh, sucking gently on her engorged clit. Her hips bucked toward him. He placed a large hand on her flat stomach, holding her down.

He slipped his tongue in and out of her opening, tasting her sweet nectar, relishing the feeling of her quivering flesh. 

Another suck, another moan... he slipped a finger inside her opening, while continuing his tonguing. Turning his palm upward, he crooked his finger in a come here gesture, grazing her G-spot.

"Oh God!" Cass arched off the bed, legs bent, shaking... "More, please... more!" she begged.

Logan increased his efforts, bringing her closer to the brink of release, reveling in the way she gave herself over to her pleasure.

She was writhing now, unable to control her responses, engulfed completely in a mind numbing world of pure lust, begging for more, moaning with need.

Logan added another finger and rolled his thumb over her clit, sending Cass flying over the brink into an abyss of joyous release. 

"FUUUCK!" she screamed as wave after wave of ecstasy consumed her. He kept her orgasm alive, rolling with her until she stopped writhing and lay, shaking, shuddering... completely sated.

Standing just long enough to remove his jeans and boxers, his rock hard erection slapping against his stomach when released from the confines of his clothing. He retrieved a condom from a pocket and quickly sheathed himself. 

Logan joined her on the bed again, running his hands over her sweat glistened body, reawakening her desire with his touch alone.

He ran his hands down one leg and quickly undid the rope, then did the same to the other. 

He hooked his arms under her legs and lifted, aiming his massive cock at her entrance he plunged in to the hilt, burying himself in her heat. 

"Oh fuck!" he ground out between clenched teeth... "So hot, so tight..." He stilled his movement, attempting to regain his control before he came like an inexperienced kid. 

"Eyes Cass!" he demanded. Cass opened her eyes and met his... matching and reflecting the heat, the hunger she saw in his with her own.

Logan began to move, slowly at first, out, and back in, long, smooth, torturous strokes. Each one building, sending them higher and higher on the journey toward total burning consummation.

He was lost to her now, and she to him... it was inevitable that these two find each other... and nothing would come between them.

Logan's thrusts became harder, less controlled... Cass knew he was getting close to coming, his groans and her whimpers combined in a song of lust, bringing them closer and closer...

Cass screamed, "Oh fuck LOGAN!!" as her body arched, she pulled against the ropes that held her wrists tight, writhing, convulsing with the intensity of her orgasm, hers sending him over the edge with a loud yell, as his body stiffened and he buried himself deeply in her, pumping his hot seed into her depth, he continued to thrust against her, riding out his violent release.

Logan collapsed over her, rolling to the side so he wouldn't crush her. Their breathing ragged gasps, bodies bathed in sweat... neither able to move, nor wanting to.

Logan finally moved, reaching p to release the ropes that held her wrists. Cass brought her arms down slowly, and Logan rubbed them, gently trying to restore some blood flow.

Cass melted against his side, buried her face in his chest and breathed in the musky scent of his maleness. Content, sated, blissful.

Neither knew just how or why, but without a word, each knew they had discovered the perfect partner, one Dom, one sub. Together, an inseparable pair forever entwined. 



Blink: Five



The following story is a fictional account. The characters are entirely unreal and so are their situations. Thus no direct attention was paid to probability or safety for the characters. Such practices should not transfer over to real life situations. Practice safe, sane and consensual sex. For your own damn good. If you have problems or issues with queer pornographic materials, please stop reading now. If you find, on the other hand, that you are quit the purveyor of perversion and that this particular story seems to get your rocks off, please feel free to contact the author, Kenji De Sade via e-mail through the link below. Thank you. 

Five

Before the last few days Jeremiah had never even thought of it. This newly overwhelming want he was developing seemed entirely inconceivable. He could feel his loins tightening at the thoughts he was having, his muscles quivering in anticipation. His prostate and cock were both abuzz with sensitivity. As his stomach let out a slow and low rumble, his body shivered ever so slightly and his excitement gained intensity to match. It was like waiting to open up the biggest present under the tree on Christmas morning, waiting to take the first bite out of a cheesecake you just made fresh, or more aptly, the car ride home after you've spent a night flirting and hinting at the sex you know you're about to have. It was the absolute knowledge that when his bowels, in only a few moments, finally allowed his waste to move out of his unhindered rectum and into his thick wet diaper it would bring him completely over the edge.

This concept was not entirely lost on Jeremiah. He'd had his fare share of darkly depraved fantasies, many containing bits and pieces of his most recent tribulations, which was in it self constantly haunting Jeremiah. Rather it was the fact that these feelings were so alien to him, so obviously manufactured, that settled him with such deep unease. As though someone had gone inside his mind and simply told it to react in a new way. The image briefly came to him that his brain was a computer and the rubber clad man was a hacker whom had simply found a way to log on and re-code its software. The idea of being so readily changed plainly felt wrong. Jeremiah knew this couldn't be possible. There was no way someone could just implant new emotions and reactions into people. He wasn't sure if the reasons they couldn't were scientific or spiritual, in fact he couldn't actually think of any reasons, he just knew people shouldn't be able to do this to other people. Regardless, as he moaned loudly, vocalizing the pain of the cramping he'd been feeling in his guts, he felt the hollow steel plug, holding his hole wide open, shift within his anal passage rubbing his prostate as his shit began to make it's way through and his excitement built.

Standing on all fours, paused in wait, Jeremiah found himself staring at his bound form in the new large mirror which was now the only object in the room. He did not necessarily want to look at himself at this moment. In fact seeing him self there as he was, diapered, restrained, gagged and looking so frightened was one of the last things he wanted to witness. The sight of his situation only reminded him of its futility and permanence, making his inability to escape more solid in his mind. Yet his natural curiosity kept him from being able to look away. Jeremiah could not help starring at his body as it gave in to the feelings being forced upon it. He watched the sweat form along his skin as his pulse rose and his intestines undulated beneath. He waited staring into his own eyes in anticipation of witnessing the event about to come. Despite how much debasement he felt at his own loss of control, he wanted to watch himself as his body convulsed and became empty. He wondered for a brief moment if this desire wasn't also a manifestation of someone else's will rather then his own, before his thoughts were blown the way of the wind by the sudden rise in force of his internal convulsions.

The feeling of his own feces pushing their way through his system and out of his unblocked sphincter was accentuated, even magnified, as he felt the strangest orgasm he had ever had in his life build in time with the bowel movement. The odd feeling of his seminal fluids as they pushed through his already filled urethra, nearly mimicking the feelings he felt at his ass as his shit filled the diaper, was an entirely new sensation for Jeremiah. The hindrance within his own cock seemed to dampen the fog his mind would normally be in during an orgasm, as though it's yield to his seminal fluids was somehow related to his ability to truly release and let go. The smooth warm feelings of pleasure were painting themselves along his skin, growing from his groin out to all of his limbs as usual, though his mind was unusually clear and aware of the rest of his body as he came. The spasms that were coursing through his abdomen, causing his body to sway back and fourth on his fists and knees, working his dung out of his body and into the thick, warm and wet fabric of his diaper were also pushing his orgasm to it's head. They came one right after the other, over and over again. Pulsing and writhing every muscle Jeremiah had in his body as they did. Behind the rush of blood within his ears and the pounding pulse within his head Jeremiah could hear the muffled moans of pleasure echoing through the nearly bare room as he watched his bound and diapered body practically hump the air.

Jeremiahs vision was gray around the edges, he was gasping and moaning around the cock shaped gag buried tightly between his lips. His body was covered in sweat as he knelt there, his legs held wide open by both the diaper as well as the rubber restraining device strapped over it. His cock lie entirely untouched behind its steel prison, throbbing and pulsing over the tube inserted deep within its flesh, as cum drooled out of its head around the tube. His diaper was filling with shit, spreading out slowly from the center of his asshole, up and down his crack, filling in his taint and any other open space it could meld itself into and mixing with the recently spent ejaculate. His arms felt weak as all his weight was supported on them during the convulsive expulsion. With beads of sweat dripping from his nose, he looked up and witnessed him self and this moment in the mirror in front of him and he lost himself in the haze of the aftermath. His arms lost their fight against gravity and he fell more then gently lied, onto his side, legs splayed open by his warm shit filled diaper and the rubber device over it. He watched himself gasping for breath inches from the mirror, still suffering tiny convulsions from moment to moment and absolutely blissful.

His thoughts swam on the ocean of mixed emotions floating through his head. He even managed a slight giggle past his phallus filled lips when he realized he was swimming in his diaper just as much as he was in his mind. As he lazily rolled onto his side he felt the warm mass within his diaper move with him, mashing and molding it self within the wet cotton confines. The warmth seemed incredibly soothing to Jeremiah, wrapped around his crotch, warming the steel of the cup guarding his throbbing cock and testicles, in turn warming their flesh.

Jeremiah felt dirty and very comfortable in being so. He assumed all of this was imposed emotion. That he was, at some point during one of the many black outs, told that he was supposed to feel this way. However, in this heightened state of mind, he found that he could finally accept something he didn't even know he'd been denying. Something he'd fought against from the very beginning, more then he'd fought against the chains that had held him down while he was raped. More then he'd fought against allowing himself to cum during the rape. He had been fighting the knowledge that he was enjoying every moment of it. Behind the fear and the anxiety, he was always on the edge of bliss. None of what had happened to him, extraordinarily twisted and insane as it seemed to him, had ever been anything he'd ever truly imagined doing. At most he'd probably only ever passively had a passion for any of it. The diapers were one of those bizarre fascinations he had that he never really understood; actually using them had remained a lightly traveled road, though he had a few times. Bondage was a fun game he'd played with a lover or two but never anything serious, never anything with a purpose. In fact he'd always been so terrified to get too deeply involved in his own sexuality to reach the depths of depravity he'd recently been subjected to. In a way, his new found captivity was ultimately freeing. He was now not only able to explore and discover deeply primal sexuality, he absolutely had to, and the choice to hide behind his own fear had been taken away.

He lie there, subconsciously sucking the cock shaped gag between his lips and starring at himself in the large mirror. He could not help but laugh around the gag in his mouth. He had no choice of anything any longer. He ate when he was forced to eat, he crapped when his own body forced him to crap and now he even came whenever his own body felt it was necessary. He couldn't imagine how these changes were possible. He looked into his own eyes, watching their reflection intently. Though he found it annoyingly difficult to actually look into both eyes at once, his post orgasmic haze left him giddy enough that the annoyance was of minor consideration. Instead Jeremiah let himself fall deeper and deeper into his own gaze.

Jeremiah figured if the eyes were windows to the soul maybe he'd see something there within himself that would explain why he was in this predicament. Why he had so easily been taken advantage of by some incredibly demented man. Instead he saw a glint which struck him, somehow, as being strangely peculiar. He analyzed the glint, unable at first to recognize what seemed so odd about it. His initial summation was that it was a reflection of a reflection. Something his eye was reflecting from the mirror. However it had a certain metallic mat texture to it that didn't match anything between Jeremiah and the mirror. When Jeremiah shifted himself to get a better look at the irregularity he came to find that it had disappeared from his corneas reflection, thus solidifying the idea that whatever it was it wasn't fixed in front of the mirror.

By the time Jeremiah was able to find the object behind the mirror once again he had moved himself up against it's smooth surface. At first he had tried floating his head around and starring into his eyes reflection to find the anomaly. When that proved that it would take more patience then Jeremiah had he thought to move closer. He maneuvered himself onto his padded knees, feeling the mess inside of his bulky diaper mush and move as he did. Finally he put his rubber padded fists at the edges of his eyes and strained to see behind the reflective surface. Sure enough he was able to make out glinting edges of three round poles tented together behind the glassy surface leading up to a barely visible yet completely recognizable video camera. Jeremiah couldn't be entirely sure but he thought he could see a cable leading away from the back of the camera, which if he was seeing correctly, probably meant, he was being broadcast somewhere. He found it strangely comforting to know someone was watching. Creepy and invasive, yet still nice to know that if he had some sort of accident someone somewhere would know. 

It dawned on Jeremiah suddenly that the mirror was flush against the wall between the main room of his apartment and his bedroom. More aptly, the mirror was flush against the wall, thus the camera was inside of the wall of his rented apartment. He was sure modification to the structure like this weren't included in his lease agreement. As the revelation hit Jeremiah that his landlord would be furious if he happened by and noticed the installation, it also hit him that he was tied down on all fours in a strange rubber contraption and a rather large wet and messy diaper with a cock strapped in his mouth in a nearly empty apartment all alone. Jeremiah wasn't sure if he'd be overjoyed with excitement that perhaps someone could get him out of this situation, or terrified that he'd be caught in such a state and scare off his only chance of salvation. He was however sure that he had a renewed sense of hope that if this whole thing went on for too long, surely his landlord would come by and discover him when the rent came due. Unfortunately, that probably wouldn't be for a few days. In the just as much time Jeremiah had lost any semblance of the life he'd known, he knew it was only so long before the apartment went too, he just hopped his captor would hold out long enough for him to be saved. 

While Jeremiah kneeled in front of the mirror contemplating various other freedoms that could be taken from him at any moment, he was subconsciously, and ever so slightly, grinding his hips forward and back. The small manipulation was causing the chastity device strapped onto his nether regions, beneath his still warm and filthy diaper, to jostle the plug deep in his ass massaging his prostate. The mess of his diaper was allowing the cloth surface to slide gently over his flesh smearing the contents about. Jeremiah was so lost in his new found anxieties that he barely even realized it was happening. He didn't even notice that he was growing more aroused despite the recent ejaculation nor did he realize that as his arousal grew his sucking on the cock shaped gag in his mouth was also growing in fervor. By the time his cock began sending signals to his brain, trying to snap him from his fears, that it was painfully growing once again within its confines, Jeremiah was grunting pleasures past his gag and sucking furiously on the phallus. The pleasures emanating from his prostate were quickly taking priority over any thoughts of being watched or put through any more torments. Jeremiah was so lost in the emotional transition overtaking his body that he didn't even have enough conscious clarity to question his sudden arousal. Instead he watched himself pressed so closely to the mirror moving his waist about to gain greater pleasures. He didn't even notice his own moans were growing in volume.

The only thoughts now running through Jeremiahs mind were about pleasure and getting more of it, specifically by rubbing the object in his ass about his prostate more thoroughly and feeling his filthy mess move about as it did so. He backed away from the mirror as quickly as his wide spread thighs would let him in order to both maneuver himself into a better position as well as to watch himself enjoying his predicament. The idea of being watched had gone from a frightening comfort to a tantalizing inspiration, this as well as watching himself seemed to be heightening the pleasures he was feeling. For a slight fleeting moment of consciousness Jeremiah realized how strange it was that he'd gone from paranoia to apathetic bliss so quickly, however the moment he felt the plug in his ass hit his prostate again this thought flew the way of the wind. All Jeremiah wanted was to feel the plug in his ass as it moved about stirring up his mess and to suck on the object in his mouth. He watched his body move onto all fours in front of the mirror. He bucked his hips slowly up and down, back and forth even from side to side. He turned himself so he could watch his bodies profile as he contorted his muscles to and sucked the cock in his mouth. In this moment he became entirely engulfed by the new hunger eating away at him. 

Though the emotions were entirely animalistic, Jeremiahs physical indulgence was anything but. His movements were controlled, slow, skilled and patient. The methodical bucking movements of his thickly diaper encased pelvis were designed to prolong the teasing pressures of the thick hollow tube in his bowels. The shape of the plug, as Jeremiah had noticed before it was locked into place, was serving it's purpose in spades. As his hips moved forward and back Jeremiah could feel the rise and fall of the lumped steel as it traversed the surface of his prostate. While the devices attached state did not allow for the thrusting and pounding motions Jeremiah's hungry mind was wanting, what it did allow was a nice tease that helped every movement bring Jeremiah closer and closer to the nirvana he'd just experienced. He was entirely lost in the pleasure it was causing. His eyes were glazed over and drool was mindlessly dripping like strands of precum from behind his gag. His mind paid no attention to the debasing image before the mirror any longer. It paid even less attention to the muscle aches and discomfort of it's bodies constant bondage. The only thing Jeremiah cared about at all was feeling the object in his rectum and sucking the cock in his mouth. If his mind were free to be distracted by his own thoughts, Jeremiah would probably find himself in shock at his own addict like behavior. Luckily for his conscious mind however, it remained entirely oblivious.

Time was lost to Jeremiah during this masturbatory practice. He was entirely clueless how long he'd been in front of the mirror, in front of the camera, pleasuring himself uncontrollably. As his own mind eventually and slowly broke it's way through the automatically driven lust act so too did the many aches and pains Jeremiah had been working his muscles into. While he barely remembered starting the sexual frenzy he could tell from the ache in his thighs and arms that he'd been here on all fours humping mindlessly like a sex addict for a long while. More so, however, then these pains or the ones in his ass and strained cock or the rather substantial puddle of drool before him, the sudden apparition of his laptop open before him told him he'd truly been lost in lust for a good while. Long enough for his captor to enter the room and leave a surprise and deep enough that Jeremiah had never even noticed.

The horny hunger hadn't actually gone away either. Despite the protests on behalf of his aching limbs and orifices Jeremiah found himself unable to halt his still rocking body. The feelings of pleasure were still warmly crawling their way up from Jeremiah's bowels out into waves over his body. His tongue still caressed what it could of the tightly embedded cock between his lips while the rest of his mouth sucked away. He just stood there on all fours, now entirely aware of his body and his uncontrollable actions, just staring at this newly positioned laptop. He thought for a moment that maybe he could use the laptop to find a way out of his situation, though he cold not find a way to will himself to move toward the laptop. The only movements Jeremiah's body seemed capable of making at the moment were humping his diaper in mid air and sucking the gag in his mouth. In fact now that he'd noticed the laptop, he found he couldn't even tears his eyes away from it's now blank screen, not even to watch his helpless torment in the mirror. His legs were crying out for him to stop, his arms were tired from holding his weight, his sphincter was aching and his jaw was sore and there wasn't a thing he could do about any of it. He let out a whiny whimpering sound as he felt heat spread amongst the load of shit and cum within his diaper, piss uncontrollably draining from his bladder to further feel the cloth confines around his waist.

Suddenly, as he watched and fucked himself beneath the confines of his massive and dirty diaper, the screen of the laptop came to life in a flash of light. Jeremiah realized quickly that it wasn't the screen itself lighting up, in fact it had been on the entire time, it was a light in a room being broadcast to the computer that had suddenly come on. It was a room Jeremiah knew all to well. It was the filthy dank concrete room he'd woken up in twice recently. The room he'd been the most horrifically violated in. Upon seeing it come into view he felt a wave of fear overcome him, halted only by the realisation that this time he was not the man in the room. This time the man in the room was someone else. A well built and mostly hairy body lay on it's back tied down to a table. His head was covered by the same rubber hood Jeremiah had previously experienced. The long hoses which Jeremiah knew from experience stretched the wearers nostrils out and made sure a healthy supply of air flow was possible, were lying over the mans chest un hindered allowing clean fresh air to the lungs beneath. The body's arms were stretched out to either side of it tied tightly by chains to posts off to the sides of the table. His legs were stretched up over his hidden face, lifting the back end of his ass off of the table and exposing his nether regions, and just like Jeremiah, these regions were encased by a steel chastity belt. It was almost entirely identical to Jeremiahs own with slight differences to the fully visible steel cup and anal plug.




Blink: Five



This mans anal plug seemed as large as Jeremiah's, judging from the open hole the camera seemed to be pointing directly down into. The only difference was that this plug seemed to have some sort of wires coming off of the edge of it's outer ring on either side of a tiny little blue LED light embedded in the steel. These wires led a very short way up past the urinary drainage hole to a somewhat unusual bulge in the front of the steel cock cover. There was another similar blue LED light embedded into the cup where the wires disappeared into the steel. The odd lump was formed just at the bottom of the cup about where Jeremiah imagined the head of the captives cock rested. From experience Jeremiah knew that what was under that cup, tormenting the penis within, could be just about anything. His mind was reeling with questions as his body continued to slowly hump itself before the laptop watching this bound body lie in wait. As drool continued to work it's way past the gag Jeremiah continuously suckled and licked, the man on the table seemed to be rousing. While his eyes were hidden behind the rubber hoods blindfold and his mouth stuffed with what Jeremiah was sure was also a cock shaped gag, the small tiny movements of the bound figures muscles as it began realizing it was immobile were the signals that told Jeremiah he was waking. Apparently they were the same signals the rubber clad man had been waiting for, as he stepped into the scene before the camera as though he'd been patiently standing there silently since he turned on the light. 

The rubber clad man was, as always, wearing the same exact rubber hood which exposed his mouth and hid his eyes behind dark lenses. He was wearing shoulder length industrial looking rubber gloves, thigh high rubber boots and some sort of apron. Other then these accessories, for the first time, the rubber clad man wore nothing on his upper or lower torso. Jeremiah could only see the man from the back, which also happened to be the only exposed skin on the man. It was overall unremarkable, sparse patches of hair in wing like shapes down either side of the back, a patch of dark fur just above the cleft of his butt cheeks which led to a fur laden crack between to only slightly haired and well shaped butt cheeks. The man also carried with him a large black trash bag which seemed to be weighted down heavily by it's contents. In his other hand the man carried some sort of small remote like device which had a tiny blue LED light matching those on the bound mans chastity device. It seemed as though the bound man was still groggy and unaware of the rubber clad mans entrance. He was moaning and starting to breath heavily. Jeremiah was surprised to hear the moaning sounds coming from the laptop, until now he'd been unaware that there were any sounds. The rubber clad man lifted his hand with the remote in it and clicked a button, the blue LED light on the remote turned red and so did the ones on the bound figures chastity device.

Jeremiah's eyes shot open in shock as he heard the screams of the bound figure blare out of the tiny speakers on the lap top. They were screams of pain and Jeremiah was sure more shock then he himself felt at hearing the screams. The yelling of the tormented man died down almost as soon as the red lights all changed back to blue, though now Jeremiah could hear the familiar chuckle of the rubber clad man. The bound figures chest was heaving for intakes of breath and he was making pleading begging sounds to whomever had just made their presence in the room known and was now mockingly laughing at his torment. Jeremiah was terrified for the poor man, he knew exactly how it felt to suddenly be brought into consciousness and have absolutely no idea what was going on, but none of his torments had been exactly like this. Jeremiah was unsure if what the man had experienced was an electrical shock of some sort or any number of other horrors, though he was sure from the mans reaction, it had not been pleasant. The mans protests and sharp intakes of breath continued while the rubber clad man moved about the room to the side of the table. He set the large trash bag down and retrieved the breathing tubes from the heaving chest of the bound man before him.

The rubber clad man lifted the tubes up and turned his blank lens covered eyes to the camera. A devious and demented smile spread across his face while his fingers crimped the tubes for Jeremiah to witness.

Jeremiah was overwhelmed with empathy for the poor guy on the table. He wanted to stop what the rubber clad man was doing and set the guy free, save him from the torments the rubber clad man was sure to inflict upon him. He wanted to do a lot of things. Instead his body starting humping with more conviction. The object in his ass being used to it's full effectiveness. The drooling coming from his mouth continued to pour out as his lips sucked and his tongue licked the gag pressed tightly there in. It seemed as the hooded and bound figure on the table fought for his now cut off air supply Jeremiahs body became more enthralled in the pleasures it was feeling. The rubber clad man laughed aloud again as he finally released his hold on the bound figures breathing tube and Jeremiah heard a loud intake of breath and the muffled sobbing of relief coming form the tortured victim. Jeremiahs body however continued it's newly fervent thrusting and sucking. With the recent addition of his own urine to the mix of bodily wasts within his thick diaper, Jeremiah could feel his filth sloshing around with his uncontrollable motions, His muscles continued to cry out for relief and his ass continued to throb in pain. Worse yet, he could feel his intestines begging to tighten ever so slightly. Jeremiah and the bound figure were both making similar whimpering noises as the rubber clad man took the breathing tubes and put them into the large trash bag.

The bound figure made a slight choking noise as he inhaled the contents of the trash bag. Jeremiah didn't actually know what was in the bag though he surmised from his experience and the bound figures sudden halting of breathing that it was probably human waste. Jeremiah felt his brow furrow in spite toward the rubber clad man. While he was entirely stunned that he found a muscle he could control, he was to taken by his anger at what the rubber clad man was doing to him and this new comer that he paid it little mind. Instead he watched the bound figure fighting not to breath in the foul scent while still struggling to regain the breath he'd lost only a moment before. It was a losing battle, Jeremiah knew it, but it didn't seem the guy was going to give up. He'd take a large breath and then try to hold it in for a while before allowing himself another. He only got to do this twice before the rubber clad man hit a switch on the remote in his hand. Once again the blue LED lights turned red and the bound figure began screaming, only this time the rubber clad man left the device on longer. The man was taking deep ragged breaths in between his muffled screams and the rubber clad man was just standing there watching. It went on for several screams until finally the lights reverted back to blue. Jeremiahs body was rocking itself back and forth even faster now then before. 

Every time this man went through a new torment Jeremiah's body seemed to react and seek further pleasure. It was driving Jeremiah insane. The more his body fucked itself inside of his thick and messy diaper, the more his body ached and cried for relief. Worse then that, his sexual hunger just grew and grew. He wanted nothing more then to have a fully satisfying orgasm but it never even seemed close. His prostate was sore and his anus felt stretched, his cock was aching and his jaw was sore, but none of this hindered any of the urges building within Jeremiah. He just felt hungrier and hungrier to have his ass teased in any way. The only feeling Jeremiah could feel in his body that left him feeling any hope of relief was the growing tightness within his bowels. For the second time Jeremiah found himself anticipating the building load of shit in his body. Wanting and waiting the expulsion that was threatening to come. Hoping that it would bring him the same release it had brought him just a short time before. Jeremiah couldn't remember a time in his life he'd ever wanted to cum so badly after having cum so recently. 

For a long while Jeremiah stood there on all fours watching the man breath in the contents of the black trash bag. The rubber clad man came and went from the scene while the two captives continued undergoing their own torments. Both far away from each other in presence, only one aware of the other, both completely unable to do anything about their similar situations. From time to time the rubber clad man would hold up the remote and the red LED's would come to life. The bound man would scream and Jeremiahs body would convulse in pleasure against the hollow plug in his ass. Overtime, the lights started to change a different color when the remote was pressed. This change seemed to cause both of the tortured boys nearly climactic pleasure. The rubber clad man would raise the remote, the lights would all change green and a slight buzzing could be heard emanating from the bound figures chastity device. As the bound man would suddenly start moaning and groaning and thrashing his raised ass in the air, Jeremiah would suddenly feel his body rest his thick mess filled diaper on the back of his heals, sitting down hard against the plug deep in his ass. His ass would sway from side to side and hop up and down on his heels for a moment, then the lights would go back to blue. The bound man would continue breathing, with a new heaviness to his intake, and Jeremiah would continue humping the air on all fours and sucking his gag. 

Finally the rubber clad man, chuckling to himself, removed the bound figures breathing tubes from the black trash bag and hung the exposed ends off of the raised and protruding steel cup of the bound figures chastity device. He then hoisted the seemingly heavy bag off of the ground and walked it and himself between the bound figures up stretched legs. He reached into the bag with both of his rubber gloved hands and began manipulating the contents. Soon his hands were coming back out of the bag slowly and carefully until Jeremiah could see what the rubber clad mans hands were emerging with. He was immediately disgusted and stymied by what he saw. His first diaper lie carefully cradled in the air by the rubber clad mans gloves, a mound of feces balanced on top of several layers of dripping wet cloth. Every layer seemed stained through and through with a brownish yellow tinge. Jeremiah felt somewhat sick as he watched the disgusting nest of his own bodily waist being positioned on the table under the poor bound mans upturned ass. The bound man had no idea what was going on, even if he weren't blindfolded. the bag and it's now removed contents were entirely out of his vision. However, as the filthy back end of the diaper was positioned between the table and the bound mans back Jeremiah could tell that the stale urine was cold by the shudders running through the bound body. The rubber clad man was careful to rearrange the breathing tubes so that they would rest directly at the bound figures taint whilst in the diaper, ensuring he smelled the brunt of what was already there, as well as what was sure to be added. The bound man started whimpering as the slick mess of shit started to come in contact with his exposed skin. Jeremiah could imagine the cold slimy feel as this diaper was being applied and he did not envy the man. While Jeremiah could no deny the warm mass at the back of his own diaper was incredibly erotic, he couldn't imagine he'd feel the same if it were someone else's long since cold wastes. The bound figure had no choice but to continue smelling the excrement he'd before only witness inside the bag, however now it was a scent he was used too, he knew full and well what was being strapped around his waist. The rubber clad man struggled for a moment to properly fasten the already entirely used diaper to the man before the task was finally complete, then he picked the remote back up and hit it's button again. This time no buzz could be heard, but as the bound figure started moaning, and Jeremiahs body reacted by sitting him back down on his mess and grinding his anal intruder against his prostate he knew exactly what was happening.

The device was left on as the rubber clad man maneuvered around the room grabbing a few more items here and there, a piece of clear plastic and some large sheets of cloth. Before long the bound bodies diaper was thicker then even Jeremiah's current diaper and covered in a pair of clear plastic pants which buttoned up the front. Shortly there after with some more rummaging about by the rubber clad man, a rubber belt just like Jeremiah's was attached over the bound figures diaper. Jeremiah was watching intently, letting his ass mush around in his filth on top of his heels and sucking away at the cock in his mouth as he watched the rubber clad man move toward the bound figures head and pull a feeding tube from above the man and out of the cameras general view. The rubber clad man attached the tube to the end of the hooded and bound figures gag and Jeremiah feared what was next for the poor guy. Though he noticed this feeding tube seemed a little different, it had a blue LED lit up on it as well towards the end that connected it to the gag. Jeremiah watched the rubber clad man click the remote again so it's light also matched the blue LED. The hooded and bound figure stopped moaning and, it seemed, concentrated once again on taking in deep breaths.

The rubber clad man spoke, loudly and sternly "Suck."

Jeremiah could see the feeding tube react to the bound mans suction as he began, it took a few moments but soon the same milky white paste began to travel it's way through the tube, before it could reach the end of the tube however, the mound man had to stop sucking in order to take in several heaps of breath. He apparently took to long, as the rubber clad man once again raised the remote and it's LED turned red. The bound man began to scream into his gag once again and Jeremiah wondered why the expulsion of air didn't seem to move the goop in the feeding tube. Soon the remote was clicked, the LED turned blue and the bound figure stoped screaming and lie breathing quick and panicked.

The rubber clad man once again spoke loudly and sternly however this time there was impatience behind the one word "Suck!"

The bound man immediately began sucking again and within seconds the paste made it's way to the strange attachment and the blue LED there turned green. Jeremiah knew the only reason the bound figure wasn't moaning at this point was because he was swallowing the tasteless paste, however the humping of his body showed that the now hidden LED's on his chastity device were no doubt turning green and delivering their brand of pleasure to the bound figure. When the man stopped sucking again to take in deep heavy breaths of Jeremiah's wastes the LED turned back to blue. Moments latter when the man returned to sucking the light lit up green once again. The entire time Jeremiah found himself alternating between resting his shitty diaper on his heels and burying his ass plug deep within himself while the light was green, to humping his ass back and fourth in mid air while the light was blue. The bound figure, it seemed, enjoyed the green light more then no light as his pauses for breaths came further and further apart the longer he was left there to feed. Jeremiah knew this was a horrible torment for the poor bound figure. He knew as time went on the man would continue feeding himself over and over, feeling mind numbing pleasure as he did so, only to have it end the moment he needed more air. He would probably never work himself to orgasm and he probably keep trying over and over again in spite of it. Worse yet, he had no idea that the food he was taking in was going to cause him to fill the already overfull diaper up even more. Jeremiah was baffled as of to what kind of person would think up these horrible things that the rubber clad man was doing. Worse, he still couldn't understand why anyone would.

The rubber clad man stood there watching for a moment before he picked up the now empty trash bag and the remote. He looked at the camera with a big smile on his face as he was about to go out of view and he waived at Jeremiah. What surprised Jeremiah about this was that the wave seemed to unlock him. The second he saw the wave, his body collapsed in freedom. He was sore everywhere, especially his orifices. He was covered in sweat from the constant torment. He was incredibly horny and his ass was the center of it. He didn't actually want to stop what he'd been forced into doing, feeling his internal tormentor rub against his prostate, though he was incredibly grateful that he had. He lie there barely able to move himself even with his granted ability to do so and he watched the laptop screen go black once again.



Blink: Four



The following story is a fictional account. The characters are entirely unreal and so are their situations. Thus no direct attention was paid to probability or safety for the characters. Such practices should not transfer over to real life situations. Practice safe, sane and consensual sex. For your own damn good. If you have problems or issues with queer pornographic materials, please stop reading now. If you find, on the other hand, that you are quit the purveyor of perversion and that this particular story seems to get your proverbial rocks off, please feel free to contact the author, Kenji De Sade, through the link below.Thank you.

Four

Jeremiah lay on the bed uncomfortable and in pain. He could feel the bulk of his ever full gut aching constantly. He knew without a doubt in his mind that he had been laying there for no less then two hours, perhaps even as many as four, constantly swallowing down gulp after gulp of tasteless ooze through the pecker shaped gag secured tightly in his mouth. He was in complete darkness within his hood and had smelled the pure unadulterated rank of his own filth with each and every breath. Where he had once writhed in his bonds for the pleasure of the motion, he now did so out of pure and complete discomfort. The thing holding his asshole open had long since gone from being a tantalizing source of enjoyment as his prostate had grown sore. His struggling had become an uncontrollable reaction to his various aches and every move agitated the spot within his anus, which caused his cock to throb in its confines, bringing only further discomfort.

Jeremiah could feel the cramps within his overfilled stomach growing lower in his bowels. Building up the pain they felt slowly, soon to match the agony of his belly. He'd been listening to the sounds of his intestines gurgling and babbling for about a half an hour now, knowing that this moment would come eventually. He was absolutely sure that, if the food he was ingesting was laced with a laxative of some sort, there was no way it had already worked through his system. This knowledge filled his mind with worry as it added the revelation that there would be much more to come. If the feedings kept coming as regularly as they were, Jeremiah was sure; it would be no time till he was crapping himself almost every hour on the hour. At least then he would have a way to keep track of time.

The pain began to ebb away at him as it grew. He broke out into a sweat over his skin which sent a chill through his body, Jeremiah found it rather ominous. His bowels were soon singing out in silent agony to match the chorus being sung by his jaw, bent knees, stretched arms and ass hole as well as the ache in his confined cock. Tears were lubing the rubber mask around his eyes as he shook his head in a reflexive no, it almost seemed to Jeremiah that his mind was subconsciously trying to will the pain to stop with the motion.

He could feel the pent up load within his rectum trying to push its way out, however it seemed as though the large mound of feces already built up there was making the new loads exit difficult. Jeremiahs body flew into a fit of unstoppable spasms; he lashed about on the plastic sheeted bed, bouncing slightly as a result. His splayed thighs tried repeatedly to close only to be held back by the thick rubber guard between them. Soon he was moaning through his nose, his mouth still filling with tasteless paste, as his shit forced its way out of his revolting intestines and added to the incredible bulk which had been fighting it.

The release was not a quick one, the cramps did not suddenly subside, the load it self seemed to Jeremiah to be large yet unremarkable, it was simply taking a long time to make it's exit due to the excess feces it was colliding with. His body continued to feel the wracking agony of the cramps within his guts. Both his stomach and his bowels cried out for similar reasons, he was happy to have at least one of these organs seeming to be appeased. Jeremiah's muscles would relax for a moment and he'd gulp down his food and try to regain his breath as the next cramp would come upon him and more of his slick mess would ease its way out of his insides. This happened over and over again, crap, gulp, and gasp, then again and then again.

As the pain from his bowels quietly subsided Jeremiah noticed the sweat of his body had become a slick sheen lubricating his struggles atop the plastic sheeted mattress. He was hot all over and could feel that he'd been wetting himself further during his muscular convulsions. His plastic pants sloshed and squelched and he felt as though he were floating ever so slightly in the stew. He wondered if some of the moisture below him, between he and the plastic sheets, was urine rather then sweat. The scent of what was in his diaper was renewed, a raunchy combination of old and new urine with equally old and new feces. These scents still being fed fully into his nose by the breathing tubes shoved into his nostrils. The feeling of his full diaper, the aches and pains in his body and the smell in his nose were his entire world beyond the blackness of his blindfold covered eyes.

Suddenly he was overwhelmed with queasiness. He felt as though he were physically spinning. He gagged slightly for a moment around the latex cock within in his mouth, and then shook his head as he tried to regain his composure. He noticed immediately that the rubber phallus was no longer the father of an unrelenting flow of tasteless food and now lay dormant simply rendering the orifice useless. It took him only a bit longer to realize that his head was no longer resting backward on a soft surface. Rather, his head lolled downward toward his chest, gravity allowing it to rest limply there. He blinked his eyes open, expecting to see the endless darkness of the rubber hood beyond them, only to be greeted by the dimly lit and extremely forbidding cement room in which he'd been anally rapped a couple days prior. Though the hood, as well as its breathing tubes and apparently the diaper had been removed, Jeremiah could still smell the distinct stench of seemingly fresh human feces.

Before taking stock of the room, Jeremiah took stock of his own situation. His ass hole was aching worse then it had in days, from this he was able to surmise that he was being impaled upon a rather large object and had not reached its widest point yet. It appeared he was hanging from restraints, his arms secured at the biceps and wrists, leveled at his chest. There was a belt at his waist replacing the chastity device that was no longer there, with straps around his thighs which, combined with the restraints at his ankles holding them farther apart then the rest of his limbs, kept his legs and ass crack wide open. The chastity belt had been removed entirely and there were clamps weighted with large balls of metal at each of his nipples. He tested these restraints and heard loud rattles as the chains leading from them jangled seemingly high over his head. He looked up and could not see their ends for the pitch blackness that was above.

The room was lit by two lamps dangling before him from the same ceiling as he. The one closest to him, a mere three or four foot away, he recognized from his first visit as it dangled above the filth stained bed atop which he'd been strapped and subsequently raped. At the time there had been no second light, and the dim luminescence which came from either only served to light a small area of the cement floor beneath them. The second light hung over what looked like a wooden work bench. Various tools and gadgets Jeremiah could not name a purpose for hung off of and laid about it's surface on either side of the rubber clad figure sitting at it, peering over his shoulder with black glass eyes, at Jeremiah. Apparently the rattling of his chains had aroused the rubber hooded man from whatever diligent work he was in the process of completing.

His attire was, as it had been every time Jeremiah saw him, different then it was before. As the rubber clad man stood from the chair Jeremiah took note of its construction. This time it appeared to be one fully enclosed rubber suit with no visible seems or zippers. It ran uniformly over its wearers' back and arms down to his hands covering every bit of skin. It continued down his waist uninterrupted to its legs which ran tightly over the full length of its wearers' legs disappearing at the knee into thick rubber boots. While it did not appear that the man was wearing a diaper, Jeremiah could clearly see a mound piled into the back end of the rubber hooded mans latex suit. Just above the mound were two hoses affixed to openings built into the suit. The hoses led forward to the front of the man, which Jeremiah could see as the rubber clad man turned from the work bench and began to walk toward Jeremiahs dangling body. The tubes led up the rubber hooded mans shoulders and neck to an apparatus strapped over the mouth and nose of the man, effectively putting him in the same position of smelling his own wastes as Jeremiah himself had been. The final point of interest to the rubber body was an opening at the crotch which once again displayed the always hard plastic covered and locked up cock. The sight of the man in the rubber hood and his form of dress being so similar to Jeremiah's own treatment always seemed to cause more confusion in Jeremiahs head then anything.

As the man made his approach, Jeremiah was able to catch one small glance over his shoulder and saw the shiny silver glint of the chastity belt before the mans body took up his entire field of vision. The man came to a halt inches before the captive floating body. He appeared to be taking stock of Jeremiah for a moment as his head shifted from side to side, up and down, scanning the body. Jeremiah wondered how well the man could see in such a dimly lit room with those dark glasses covering his eyes. The man reached to the left side of Jeremiah's head after a time and produced a small bottle of lubricant from what must have been a shelf just over Jeremiahs shoulder. He poured a small amount onto one of his rubbery hands, caped the bottle and replaced it on the shelf. He shifted his feet so that he and Jeremiah were less then an inch apart, the heat of their bodies mingling with each other. Jeremiah could hear the breathing of the man behind the mask, ragged and slow yet controlled and calm. As his hand took hold of Jeremiahs neglected, sore, and rock hard cock, Jeremiah gasped suddenly and a deep bass chuckle muffled past the rubber clad mans mask.

Jeremiah's body swung slightly with the slow careful strokes being administered to his cock. The motion caused the large intruder buried in his hole to move about, stretching his hole slightly more in every direction. It was obvious that the man was well aware of what his machinations were doing. Jeremiah's breath quickened, his body writhed and the mans hand moved slower. Jeremiah moaned, feeling the pressure that had been building behind his testicles and the hand griped his cock harder, no longer massaging the wanting painfully erect prick. Rather the rubber hand gripped it tightly enough that it could continue guiding the body over the device on which it was impaled without rubbing or sating the cock. This continued, the alternating of strokes, the anal probing, the closeness of bodies, the occasional moan from Jeremiah and chuckle from beneath the mans hood, until Jeremiah began whimpering like a wanting puppy from behind his gag.

The man in the rubber hood released Jeremiahs penis, took a swat at each of the weights dangling from Jeremiah's suddenly incredibly sore nipples, and reached behind the right side of his head. This time a small switch device which was attached to cables leading up to the same darkness the chains disappeared into, came into view. The black glass eyes stared uncommunicatively into Jeremiah's curious eyes. The mans rubber clad hand pressed a button on the box and Jeremiah's body jerked for a second, then incredibly slowly began to be lowered down further onto the huge object beneath his ass and inside his hole. Jeremiah began to moan in pain around the gag and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

He fought as best he could against his restraints to lift himself up as he sunk but his muscles were fatigued and weak. The added pain of the weights hanging from his nipples bouncing around in the struggle did not help Jeremiahs plight. The machine which had been lowering him had stopped but due to his own manipulations of his position he was not ready for the length at which he'd been lowered when he finally gave up the fight. He howled against the gag, built up drool in his mouth rolling down his chin and onto the rubber clad mans chest, as his hole was brutally opened wider then it had been before.

The rubber clad man gave Jeremiahs cock a couple more quick strokes before he turned and left the hanging body to grow accustomed to its new state of torment. His step seemed ginger as it made its way toward the work bench where the chastity device awaited him. The man got to the chair and plopped down on its wooden surface. Jeremiah was disgusted to hear the load within squish around as the man ground his ass into the seat. For several minutes Jeremiah literally sat there, his weight resting near full on the seemingly larger and larger object at his sphincter. He took in deep heavy breaths through his nostrils, the air tainted with the sour scent of human waste, and exhaled with equal weight. Small clanks and scrapping sounds could be heard coming from the rubber clad man at the workbench. Jeremiah was fighting to relax during this cacophony of telling noises.

The man eventually gave a grunt and rose from the chair, taking Jeremiahs mind off of his slow resting agony as he watched the man intently, holding the three pieces of the chastity belt which had been affixed around Jeremiah's waist for nearly two days. Jeremiah's eyes barley focused on the man as they eagerly inspected the approaching components. He'd not actually been able to see his cock cage in its entirety before, nor the frightful tube which had been implanted in his anus. He was terrified at what he saw coming closer and closer to him. The shaft, which he knew without doubt was to go back into his aching hole, was shaped in ways he had not expected. When he'd seen it's opening in his bathroom a day or so ago it had seemed to be a simple metal tube, about 2" wide, held in place by the belt. However the steel on the outside was much thicker then he'd expected it to be and shaped with a smooth bump where it would rest on his prostate. While it was obvious this was the shape that his previous tormentor had been, it was equally obvious to Jeremiah that this was a new tube insertion, as it's opening seemed to be at least a full inch, if not more, thicker then it's predecessor. He could not ever in his life remember receiving such a horrifying and terrible upgrade. The man paused at the filth stained bed and set down the anal intruder as well as what appeared to be the waist belt and continued to carry the steel cup toward Jeremiahs hanging body.

The man held the cup up to Jeremiah's face as he stopped before him. He held it there, shiny surface facing towards Jeremiahs drooling face for just a moment before spinning it around in his hands so Jeremiah could get a good look at the inside, where his dick would soon stay locked away from him, cramped and throbbing. The back was, to Jeremiahs dismay, blocked by a steel plate which was only slightly indented and save for a small hole at its center otherwise smooth. The lighting was too dark for Jeremiah to see through, a problem which was quickly remedied as the rubber clad man gyrated the device in his hands and manipulated it so the outer shiny shell pivoted on a before now unseen hinge, opening to reveal the treacherous prison in all it's glory.

It set a certain sense of unease within Jeremiah to see that his cock and balls could so easily be manipulated without the device ever needing to be removed. He wondered, if it weren't for the rubber clad mans decision to make his anal tube larger, would his belt have been removed so soon after its application? He thought little over the matter as his mind became occupied with what else lie within the steel cup. Coiled around itself once so it could nestle inside the cup for storage was a thin plastic tube, the catheter which was to be inserted into Jeremiah's urethra once again. It lay with one of it's ends secured over a small metal shaft Jeremiah knew led to a drainage hole which would be placed at his taint. There was a small ring held in place about a half of an inch away from the pubic plate. Jeremiah imaged this was where his cock was to be fed through, separating it and his testicles within the confines and adding to the aching throb along the shaft.

The rubber clad man dropped the cup from Jeremiah's immediate sight, down to his cock and balls, which he then fed through the hole in the steel plate; guiding Jeremiahs still slightly lubed cock through the steel ring till it was flush against its base. Jeremiah was surprised at how stable the device seemed to be hanging for a moment from his genitalia as the rubber clad man reached his hand up past Jeremiahs head once again retrieving the bottle of lube. Squeezing out a small dollop onto his rubbery hand the man once again took hold of Jeremiah's excited member. Jeremiah realized quickly, the intent was not purely for his pleasure, as he felt the catheter being inserted into his piss slit. The violation was not entirely pleasant. The strange sensation of something moving into his penis was somehow far stranger then it had been when the object was just suddenly there.

Jeremiah had never been aware of the first catheters insertion and never before had reason to have one inserted into his most precious member. To him this was an entirely new experience. At this point he'd come to realize protesting would produce absolutely no result and had resigned himself to take whatever he could of the process. He paid attention as he felt the tube slide in seemingly effortlessly. It was slow, but it seemed unhindered. This was probably due to the flesh having been held open non stop for days.

Suddenly he felt the tube halt and at the same time felt the sudden need to urinate. It was not the usual urge, the building pain one gets as the urge comes on, rather the bitter feeling at the back of your groin that comes on just before you actually do urinate. Then just as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone and the tube inched forward just a small bit more. The process had left Jeremiah's cock half hard and hanging somewhat limply just above his testicles, It appeared this was the ideal state for the member to be in, as the shield of the cup closed over his privates and he felt the top of the shaft of his penis pressed firmly against its solid insides. As the piece was pressed all the way up to its backing a click could be heard, signifying that it was locked in place.

The cage dangled there from Jeremiahs cramped cock and balls, the weight of it slightly tugging on the entire package causing a very slight ache as the rubber clad man turned back to the bed and brought the belt piece into Jeremiah's view. It was a simple design, a plain steel band with serrated ends which clicked into slots at either side of the cup. At its center, in the rear, it had a small steel peg poking out from it where the back end of the anal rod would eventually be attached. The rubber clad man led the belt around Jeremiah's waist and clicked it into place. The steel cup was drawn with several clicks of the belt, into Jeremiah's pubic bone. It wasn't painful, just very tight; the motion caused more of his manhood to push itself into the cup, causing the small space to get tighter. The chastity belt seemed effectively locked on to Jeremiah; however the anal rod had yet to come.




Blink: Four



The rubber clad man leaned back and inspected his work. He seemed to be laughing as he looked at Jeremiah. The slapping sound of trickling urine echoed through the cement room as it fell from the steel cup. He then reached for the weighted tit clamps on both of Jeremiah's nipples and took them off quickly, before Jeremiah even had time to register the humiliation of his piss flowing out against his control. The sudden release after such a long time in compression caused Jeremiah to scream out around in pain around the rubber cock strapped tightly in his mouth. His rectum convulsed around its large intruder in response to the sudden pain also pushing out more of the already flowing urine. His body shook slightly and he ended his signs of agony with several sharp breaths and whimpers with each exhale. The rubber clad man seemed to like this display of pain as he chose to prolong it by massaging the sore nubs between his rubber covered fingers. Twisting and pinching them as he shifted the sensitive bitten flesh.

The man then reached for the switch again, Jeremiah winced in preparation of what was to come next as he felt the jolt of the chains above preparing to move. When the motion begun every muscle in Jeremiahs body went tight and he felt the growing emptiness in his bowels. He was being removed from the large intruder slowly but steadily. His ass hole involuntarily spasmed open and shut against the receding shaft. The lowest part of his gut felt empty and strangely cold with the withdraw. The process was taking far longer then he had thought it would as his accent continued. He was appalled at how stretched he imagined his hole to be. When the invader was fully with drawn, the direction was reversed and Jeremiah was lowered to the cold urine soaked concrete floor.

As he lie there shivering in his piss, his body sore all over and stretched in every way, his cock held tightly within it's prison, he felt the weakness within his limbs from the various strains. He knew the reason he was being so freely handled and barely restrained was that there was no way at this point for him to mount a serious physical protest. The rubber clad man reached down and manipulated Jeremiah's body. The cold chains, now dangling around him freely, harmlessly stung Jeremiah's skin with its low surface temperature. Jeremiah was manhandled into a highly vulnerable position. His knees placed onto the cold hard concrete, separated wide and open, his fore arms crossed over each other stretched out before him on the same hard grey surface. His ass was upturned into the air, the copious amounts of lubricant still there from its recent intruder cooled in the air, his head rested on its side, drool seeping from his gagged mouth.

It wasn't long before he felt the rounded edges of the hallow tube at his wide open anus. Despite the long and torturous stretching the device still seemed huge to the well worked hole. Jeremiah grunted as the shaft was slid with care past his opening. The bulbous lump lent a plug like effect to the tool causing a slight bit of resistance from the sensitive orifice. The rubber clad man withdrew the device and rotated its body at the edge of the fleshy entrance, then began the slow insertion once again. He repeated this process several times more then was truly necessary before finally holding and mounting pressure against the invading steel contraption. With many grunts from around Jeremiah's gag and finally a satisfied sounding moan of pleasure, the steel bump was pushed into place, sliding firmly against Jeremiahs prostate. Seminal fluids dripped out of the drainage hole at his taint as the rod clicked into the hinge below the hole as well as the peg at the back of the belt, a second click was heard and as the rubber clad mans hands left Jeremiahs body the solidarity of the belts confinement was absolutely clear. Jeremiah closed his eyes as tears rolled from between his lids.

When he opened them he nearly fell forward, catching himself on the padded rubber fist mitts he'd been wearing before. Once again the shift of waking up on all fours in the center of his living room was quick and easy. One simple wave of nausea caused Jeremiah to cough past the rubber cock implanted between his lips. His vision went from blurry to sudden crystal clarity within moments. Shockingly his body felt strong again, more then likely restrained in some manner, but otherwise renewed. As his mind joined the group to help make sense of what Jeremiah was seeing he felt that somehow the room seemed larger. As he was able to process more he realized that the few pieces of furniture he'd had in the room were gone. Everything except for the simple grey rugs he kneeled on was missing from its place.

Before he attempted to move he took stock of himself. The last time he'd been in this position he'd almost learned a painful lesson. Sure enough he found himself back in a hugely thick diaper. This one seemed twice the size of the last. His legs were spread far, his knees resting in the pads practically on their sides. He could feel the bulk of it spreading between his legs and back around over his ass. His ankles were again affixed to the rubber belt at his waist, securing the top of his clear plastic pants, which he had no doubt had been locked back on. He could not attempt to test the resistance of the diaper with his thighs as the thick rubber plate held by the rubber belt was again in place. He could feel his hole once again throbbing tightly around the steel intruder. His cock still half hard within its confines, the only real difference this time was the fact that the diaper was clean and Jeremiah was almost cheerful when he noticed it.

In fact the soft fabric against his ass as he began to attempt waddling around the room felt rather pleasant. His movements were slow as his legs fought with the bulk between them. Once again he could feel the rod in his ass moving about as he moved. Due to his hindered abilities its manipulations were slow and almost gentle, even pleasurable. As he made course through the empty space he noticed there was a mirror against one wall. The only other time he could remember seeing himself recently was in the surface of the chastity cup when the rubber clad man held it in front of his face a short while ago. This however was a large rectangular mirror, the perfect size for him to see himself in. He paused there for a moment to take in the vision.

And what a vision he was. The bulk at his waist was indeed huge and his stance left him crawling with his ass on display. The rope held his ankles only inches from the ground behind him. All of his hair was unkempt and dishelved. His eyes looked tired and worn. The gag in his mouth showed signs of drool stemming from behind it that Jeremiah had not noticed before. This was also the first time he'd seen the opening end of the horrible device, he stared at it with resentment. He had marks barely peeking out over the cuffs of his fist mitts, around his biceps and thighs and at his ankles, poking out much the same as the ones on his wrist. They were memories left by the restraints he'd hung from for so long. He turned from himself with a feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. With a clear image of his state in his mind he could only imagine what someone with no idea of what was happening might think. He was degraded by the voices in his head as his mind ran away with the thought.

He continued his journey through the apartment into the bedroom where he saw only his bed, still covered in the plastic sheets with what appeared to be a new type of restraints. Due to the height of the bed he was unable to get any idea of what their appearance had in store for him. He scanned the rest of the room, the bathroom door still locked and the feeding tanks still hanging from the bed. They seemed to have been cleaned and to Jeremiahs horror they seemed to be larger then they had been. It was still the two cylindrical tanks with tubes that fed into one. But they each seemed thicker and longer then they had been before. It was the most unsettling thing about his most recent experiences. He stayed put for a moment in terror, expecting the rubber clad man to emerge from the bathroom once again to put him through another round of the absolutely uncomfortable treatment.

When his fears were not met with reality, he bolted from the room as fast as his wide spread legs would allow him, slipping momentarily on the rubber mitts, back into the living room as far from the menace as he could. He sat in the middle of the room, clean diaper resting upon his heels and looked around at its magnificent desertion. He stared into the bleak nothingness it had become and tried not to worry or wonder about where everything had gone. He knew he would not get an answer even if he was allowed one solitary moment to vocalize the question. Instead he let his brain float for a moment so other things could come to light. He was so lost in his mental attempt to get lost that he barely realized the cramps coming to his bowels. Nor did he react to the warmth that was building in the once clean diaper. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was about to spend several hours wallowing in his own personal muck. He knew that there was no way to tell when the rubber clad man would return. His mind however refused to allow these questions to surface as he was frozen on one of the most terrible personal realizations he'd ever had in his life. He was looking forward the oncoming onslaught of his own filthy wastes.



Blink: One



The following story is a fictional account. The characters are entirely unreal and so are their situations. Thus no direct attention was paid to probability or safety for the characters. Such practices should not transfer over to real life situations. Practice safe, sane and consensual sex. For your own damn good. If you have problems or issues with queer pornographic materials, please stop reading now. If you find, on the other hand, that you are quit the purveyor of perversion and that this particular story seems to get your rocks off, please feel free to contact the author, Kenji De Sade via the CONTACT tab on my profile page. Thank you. 

One

Jeremiah Burk sat at his desk fingering the scroll wheel on his mouse up and down repeatedly. There were several files open and displayed on the monitor. The imagery of each file flickering with the machinations of the mouse wheel. Surrounded by the protective cubicle walls, he'd found such blatant displays of uselessness were well guarded, especially since there seemed to only be three other workers in the office on this particular afternoon. The clock on the screen told him there were still five hours left in his day and lunch was still 20 minutes away. Not wanting to get involved in any of the projects available to him, just to leave 20 minutes into them, he was considering covertly searching for porn or reading one of the dozens of time wasting blogs he tended to read when he'd rather not be doing his job. About two minutes from the start of this inner debate, the porn won.

Quickly, an Internet browser window was opened, his fingers zipped along the keyboard entering a few choice words into a search engine and the mouse began clicking numerous links to various sites. He was barely even paying attention to the titles of the links. He figured he would brows each page for a few seconds then close them one by one as soon as he lost interest. Suddenly one of the various activated links started calling up pop up windows. One after one a new window was opening up on Jeremiah's screen. He got sort of panicky but quickly calmed himself. He would have waited for the pop ups to stop coming however it seemed there might not be any end. Each new one was popping up almost before the last had a chance to let its content load. Jeremiah couldn't even tell what each advertisement was for. He did the only thing he could think to do and started trying to close every web page on his screen, pop up or not.

He started with the pop ups of course, clicking each ones close button as quickly as he could. He would have been making good time if the random placement of the windows wasn't so time consuming that by the time he got to the next close button another two pop ups had been produced. He decided instead to try and close the original window which had caused this problem. Jeremiah thanked the software gods that he used a browser which, though it was supposedly supposed to block these stupid pop ups, was also equipped to open each of his new links within one single window. He attempted to click the close box on the main window several times, only to be blocked by a sudden pop up window inadvertently showing up in that exact location. 

After several of these blocks, he made a successful click and the window closed. However just as the window closed, small blocks of indecipherable content began popping up randomly, over everything else on the screen. Jeremiah had not blinked this entire time, trying to keep his eyes open and alert to the task at hand before someone came along and caught him in this crisis. They were beginning to burn from the dryness and the strain of darting to follow the many images now constantly appearing all over the screen. Jeremiah fought hard to keep his eyes open, to keep his attention on the task at hand. He clicked several more pop ups while trying to figure out what the blips that kept appearing and disappearing quickly all over his screen were. Finally the sharp burning pain in his eyes broke his will and he blinked.

Jeremiah suddenly found him self in a concrete room lit by a harsh yellow uncovered light bulb above him, on an iron framed four poster bed. The mattress was bare and dirty. He could smell the filth better then he could see it, do to the leather hood secured snugly over his head. The hood held what seemed to be a penis shaped gag in his mouth, yet left his eyes open to take in his surroundings save for some minor peripheral obstruction. His legs were tied by way of leather cuffs and old looking chains. They were spread apart above his body, tied to each of the end posts. He was lying on his back, his ass nearly hanging off the mattress end toward the bottom. 

His waist was secured to the sides of the iron bed frame with a leather belt and more very old looking chains, his arms stretched up and secured to the opposing posts. He could feel that his cock was enveloped by some sort of device witch was very tight around the entirety of his cocks shaft and the base of his balls. His cock ached and throbbed and every time it did the device seemed slightly tighter, which caused another aching throb again and again. The cool air circulating in the room left goose bumps along his skin and also alerted him to what felt like liberal amounts of moisture inside and around his ass crack. Lubricant was his immediate assumption.

Jeremiah's mind was suddenly swimming with anxiety. The reality of the situation refusing to make sense in any way. He searched his mind for any reasonable logic as of to why or how he would be in the situation he found himself in. Nothing made any sense. He was sitting in his office, just like any other day, looking at porn when he should have been working, and suddenly he wasn't. He just blinked. Be it a blink that seemed to feel strangely like wakening up, it still seemed to Jeremiah that it had happened instantly. Suddenly he was incredibly vulnerable, naked, tied up, lubed, and gagged. His breathing was coming so quickly it made the phallus in his mouth seem all the more cumbersome. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he could hear the blood it pumped rushing through his ears like an ocean tidal wave born of fear. His mind made his thoughts as simple as it could. His motivations became compulsory as his baser instincts began to surface. His inner voice shouted simply, RUN!

Thinking only that he had to get away from this situation and ignoring weather or not that goal was even attainable, Jeremiah began thrashing his body against his bonds. Every muscle in his limbs twisting and turning. His arms and legs straining against the leather straps at their ends trying to take advantage of any slack that they might offer. He tried using his chest muscles and abdomen with the belt at his waist for leverage. He fought believing that one of the straps had to give just enough for one limb to break free, then he'd worry about the next. 

His fight was vicious entirely based on instantaneous reaction. It didn't take long before his naked form was coated with a film of beading sweat. The adrenalin that had been released at his initial fearful reaction was waning. Though his desperation held fast, his body gave up only ten minutes into his fight against the leather and metal holding him down. As he let his body go limp, he sobbed and shed tears, mentally cursing him self for years of avoiding gyms and manual labor jobs. He still had no idea why he was wherever he was so gratuitously and vulnerably confined. Worse yet, his balls had begun to ache nearly as painfully as his cock.

His heart was barely beginning to slow the blood flow it had been pumping in it's hyper state when a screeching creek echoed from the walls of the room bringing it back to full steam. Jeremiah's head thrashed about in every direction it could looking for the source of the sound. His mind was caught in a conundrum of hopping that the source was not, and also was, a person. As his eyes caught a glimpse of movement and the familiar form of another person his mind hung upon itself waiting to see if this was a relief or not. As more of the man came into view it was quickly decided that this new comer was not here to aide Jeremiah in any of the ways he'd been praying for since he woke. Without having to think about it, Jeremiah's body released every bit of air it had stored up and he screamed as loudly as he could around the false penis securely embedded in his mouth.

Jeremiah watched the man with more attention then he'd ever paid to anything before in his life. He kept screaming over and over into his gag. He found he couldn't seem to help it and quickly decided that since it didn't seem to be bothering the other man in the room he wouldn't let it bother him either. Instead he kept watching the unflinching large man move about. He, like Jeremiah, was wearing a hood securely strapped over his head, however his was made of rubber, did not have a gag in place, instead it had an open mouth hole through which Jeremiah could see only a pair of lips that would be unrecognizable in any other context. There were also no eyes in this mans hood, instead the rubber seemed secured around a dark pair of sunglass like lenses. 

The rest of the hood seemed tailored to fit every nook and cranny of the mans face. His body was well maintained. There was little muscle definition and the man seemed to have a small belly, but every inch of him was solid. That solid muscle was coated with a thin black fur over most of its exposed areas. The parts that were not exposed were covered by several pieces of rubber. A pair of black rubber thigh high wader boots on his feet. A pair of rubber gloves over his hands, a rubber harness over his chest with a strap leading into a very peculiar rubber jock with what looked to be a solid plastic penis shaped cup locked securely with a padlock over his cock. Whoever this man was, Jeremiah let out a small sigh of relief when he realized this man would probably not be the one utilizing his exposed and well lubed hole. The sigh was interrupted as the man positioned himself at Jeremiah's anus and began using his rubber covered index finger to probe the exposed ring of muscle, continuing to pay absolutely no attention to Jeremiah's protests.

Jeremiah began to cry for the second time since waking up only minutes prior. He could not understand what was happening to him, how it had happened or why. He was beginning to think clearly again, which he cursed him self for doing just as his body was being violated by another man. It seemed he was hyper sensitive to the manipulations of his sphincter. He could feel the rubbered finger rotating, curling, sliding in and out of his hole repeatedly. When the finger would slip out for brief moments it would swab his crack picking up more of the lube, circle his puckered ring, then re enter the hole with the added lube. The finger went over this process several times, massaging the muscles and lubeing the entrance. 

The man at the other end of that finger was concentrating on nothing else besides Jeremiah's exposed orifice. Ignoring the sobbing and sporadic exclamations of protest coming from behind the immovable gag. When the body before him would writhe and contort, fighting the binds or trying futilely to move away from the probing digit, the man would patiently hold his manipulating member inside the hole in steady wait for the movements to subside, then continue his task as though no interruption had occurred. The scenario continued like this until the man had successfully worked four now well lubed fingers into the stretched cavity.

During this violation Jeremiah's mind reeled from one emotion to the next. He went from being terrified beyond his wits to being angry and ready to fight free of his bonds and torments to cowering inside him self and simply accepting that he was here and had no way to leave, in the time it took the man at his ass to work up to two fingers. By the time three were rhythmicly pumping in and out and massaging about his sphincter muscle, Jeremiah was beginning to enjoy the manipulation. The enjoyment was mixed with a displeasure of the growing ache in his cock and balls. As the fingers ran across Jeremiah's prostate he would find his body shivered with pleasure, which also caused his aching cock to pulse within the contraption confining it's engorgement. 

This only caused further throbbing and aching, though Jeremiah could also tell there was a steady stream of pre cum drooling from the opening of his cock and collecting into a puddle is his thatch of pubic hair above the shafts base. The puddle cooled in the air of the room. In Jeremiah's hyper sensitive state, the tendrils dripping down his sides from this puddle were like icicles cutting through the heat of his skin. The obvious enjoyment his body felt contrasted with the terrified violation his mind was going through. The confusion, the anxiety, the fear, the pleasure all brought Jeremiah to an oddly comforting apathy. Eventually his body lie lax in his bonds. His vocal cords, harsh now from screaming, only came to life for the eventual moan or grunt. The mans four fingers slid in and out of Jeremiah's hole with almost no resistance from the muscles. the unremarkable lips beneath the rubber hoods mouth opening smiled a very satisfied grin, showing for the first time that the smiles barer had any emotion for the situation.

The fingers left Jeremiah's stretched opening. He felt empty. He felt lonely. He was cold and hot at the same time. His body ached from fighting the restraints as did his cock and balls. He was little more then a violated hunk of meat reserved to his circumstances. Terrified to actually acknowledge what was taking place and at the same time unable to escape it's reality. He couldn't help but feel the loss of fullness. The aching throb of his cock. The cooling puddle of pre cum collecting and dripping down his sides continuously. The phallus stuffed in his mouth as well as the drool pooling in the sides of the hood strapped snugly over his head. The bonds at his ankles, wrists and waist. The sounds of the chains echoing through the room was no longer starling. The chill of the room didn't seem as harsh. His heart and breathing seemed to have reached a steady rhythm. He was almost euphoric. 

The calm moment was only marred by a low rustling as the apparent captor rummaged inside of some sort of bag Jeremiah couldn't quite see. Jeremiah idly listened to the motions taking place outside of his vision. He heard a zipper, the sound of canvas or nylon rubbing itself as it was moved. He heard a few clunks and scrapes of metal here or there. The metal pieces were drug along the concrete floor to Jeremiah's exposed end. Another bag was un zipped and opened. A few more sounds of rummaging and the tormentor produced a large dildo. It was larger then the mans four fingers had been. Large enough that his rubbered hand could not encase it's latex shaft with a space of about two inches between the fingers and thumbs. The man plopped the large latex cock on top of Jeremiah's stomach, in his plane view, and went back to the metal pieces. 

As Jeremiah stared at the dildo which he had no doubt would soon be buried deep within his guts, he also listened to what sounded like the man assembling something. The familiar clank of metal pieces fitting together, the screech of metal on metal as bolts were turned into place. While his physical self hardly reacted to the obviousness of what was to come, his mind wondered if it would be able to handle it. Soon the dildo was lifted off of his stomach, and he could feel it being pressed against his prepared hole. 

The man worked slowly, stretching the hole open even more a little at a time. The head was barely even into the hole before he could see the body reacting to it's pressure. Jeremiah's cock throbbed and pushed out a bit of pre cum as the head was rotated and pressured into his strained hole. The man was patient and calm with his progress. He pushed in and out slowly and with persistent measure on the pressure, adding a little more bit by bit as the large dildo worked it's way in. He removed the phallus from the entrance to Jeremiah's bowels several times to add more lube to the shaft and head. As the false cock was worked deeper and deeper into his hole, Jeremiah began to moan into his gag. 

He could feel the body of the intruder working past his prostate slowly. Meticulously. He saw the mans head tilted down, allowing the lens covered eyes to watch intently as the man worked the hole with the dildo. He was succeeding in burying the thing more and more. Finding the right direction to continue the push of seminal fluids with the dildos every movement. Sliding the entirety of the shaft in and out of the hole, making sure as much of the friction as possible was centered on Jeremiah's prostate. When he had the dildo sliding in all the way to it's base inside of Jeremiah's guts as well as the pressure positioned so it would constantly push and stroke Jeremiah's now sensitive prostate over and over, the man affixed the dildos base to an arm coming out of what Jeremiah recognized as a fucking machine.

The man stood back and took a look at the dildo secured in place by the well stabilized and unrelenting fucking machine. Everything was positioned perfectly. Jeremiah's cock was bobbing as it throbbed and drooled held tightly by the tight rings of the device affixed over the bloated appendage. His hole was wrapped snugly and excessively well lubed for the large dildo buried deep inside of it. The machine was positioned so it would move the dildo in the same motion that the man had seemed to get the best result with while he worked over Jeremiah's puckered entrance. It's feet were solidly held down by weights and it would not move if Jeremiah attempted to clamp his muscles at any time. The scene was perfectly prepared. 

The man held a box in his lube covered rubber gloved hand. It had simple dial controls on it's face which he began to slowly manipulate bringing the fucking machine to life. Jeremiah's head lulled backward and a suppressed moan came from behind his gag. His cock throbbed with a quickened rhythm and his body went into small spasms as the cock in his ass moved incredibly slowly in and out of his body. He could feel it's long, drawn out movements rubbing along his prostate as it went. It felt to him as though his cock were being stroked from behind it's flesh. His hole was sore and stretched but moved smoothly over the device as it moved. In his relaxed resignation, his body allowed the waves of pleasure to rake over his body from his head to his toes. A pleasure full burning sensation was building within his being. The speed of the cock within his ass picked up with a noticeable kick and his moaning began to flow out uncontrollably. 

Behind the snug leather hood and cock shaped gag drool was coating Jeremiah's face in unchecked copious amounts. It mixed with sweat to play along the features formed by Jeremiah's contorting face. His body was writhing, his mind was lost, his cock was reacting to ever inward and outward thrust and his ass had completely given into the unrelenting intruder. The man held the box into Jeremiah's bleary view and noticeably cranked the machines speed up. The cock in Jeremiah's ass was pounding in and out, there was no waiver in speed or pressure, no mercy, no weakness, the pistoning kept coming over and over again with no sign of waning . 

The shaft of the invader rubbing and pushing against Jeremiah's increasingly sensitive prostate. The cock pulling out every single time to the base of the head then slamming back in to it's base at an inhuman rate. Jeremiah let his eyes roll into the back of his head as his moans turned to hysterical laughter. His mind was awash with warm pleasure. His body felt as though it were being blanketed by the most comfortable warm sheets he'd ever felt on his skin. His cock was pouring out bolts of cum which splashed over his chest high enough to thud against the leather of his hood. He could smell the seaman as it was birthed into the air with ratcheting spasms over and over again. 




Blink: One



He was panting, breathing hard between gasping laughter. Despite the euphoria and seemingly amused reaction, Jeremiah could once again feel his anxiety returning, his fear building. His mind found a new clarity in the release of orgasm with the introduction of stimulating chemicals. He felt the fear in realizing that not only was the dildo in his ass not slowing down or showing any signs of stopping, but the control box the man had been holding was now sitting on the floor, alone, held by nothing but the concrete floor where the man had only seconds before been standing. His eyes darted about the room and his head swiveled back and forth on his shouldered till he finally spotted the man just has he was slipping out of view. A second latter the familiar loud screeching of the invisible entrance opening and closing echoed through the room. Jeremiah lie helplessly, laughing with hysterical fear and nervousness. Gasping for air as tears once again streaked out of his eyes. 

The machine fucked on, unyielding, pumping in and out at supper high spreads, battering Jeremiah's prostate over and over again. He could feel the sensation of his cock being jerked off from the inside more then he could before, it hurt and felt entirely euphoric. His cock was beyond aching now and simply hurt constantly. His ass was beginning to burn from the never ending friction. After what felt like an hour or two, Jeremiah's laughing had returned to sobs. His body was exhausted and refused to move as he willed it too. His ass felt bruised on the inside, his hole violated beyond recognition, the speed had not been slowed. The man had not returned and he could he was on the edge of another orgasm. He was baffled at how his body could possibly allow itself to be taken by such manipulations. He felt guilty for the enjoyment. He felt debased and scoffed at by his own physical form. As the ache in his testicles reached a new hight and his cock began spewing forth more cum due to the constant stimulation on his prostate, Jeremiah's eyes closed, and he passed out into oblivion.

He woke with a start, his body jumping to its feet, a yell flooding from his mouth. He was alert, he was mobile, and he was standing in his cubicle in front of his computer. The office was now full with bodies, late arrivals, which were not uncommonly practiced in the office, were Jeremiah worked. Though the shocked and bewildered look on his colleges faces pointed out that his sudden outburst was incredibly out of place. Almost as soon as he realized where he was and how strangely everyone was looking at him, Jeremiah realized his body also felt incredibly weak, he almost fell back into the chair from which he had jumped, ungracefully catching him self just before he landed and began setting himself to rest bashfully back in the seat. 

Nothing made any sense and he was entirely confused. He winced as he felt a jab deep in his gut when his ass pressed flush with the desk chair. His eyes shot open huge as he realized something was buried deep inside of his ass and seemed to be held in place by something else that was also connected to his cock and balls. He shot back up out of the seat, the people in his office still staring at him. He took a quick scan of his cubicle trying to decide what his next movement should be. He noticed immediately that his computer screen was blank, no browser windows, only the unfinished work from earlier. The clock on his desk top showed plainly that at least three hours had passed since he'd last looked at it. His mind almost shattered at this realization. Unable to handle the reality it was being forced to take in, it once again reverted to a more animal thought process, the only thing is said to Jeremiah's body was RUN!

He moved quickly. He could tell by the looks on the faces of those in his office that he looked insane. His eyes were darting in every direction as he looked for any face that might seem un confused by his actions. Paranoid plots were developing as he made his way out of the cubicle room and into the nearest hallway. He had no initial direction though he soon decided the bathroom was the best place to head. He ran into the tiled room and straight to a stall. He dropped his pants quicker then he ever had in his life and stared slack jawed down at his groin. 

Strapped to him, securely and snugly, was what appeared to be a steel belt. It encased his genitalia behind a solid cup which was locked securely by a padlock. Metal bands held tightly around his waist were laced through the same ring holding the lock to the cup. He could feel that the cup seemed to hold onto his manhood behind it's mirrored surface, it was obviously more then just a shield but Jeremiah could not decipher from feeling alone what other tortures it might have in store for him. He could however follow the feeling of a strap of metal attached to the bottom of the cup below his protected testicles, hinged on an odd swivel joint leading up his crack. He traced the rod with his hands and found that in its center, between the waist belt to which it was secured and his taint, there was an opening, a device attached to the belt which seemed to be holding his hole open very widely, much like a plug would, only this was seemingly designed to be completely un-obstructive, save for the natural clamping Jeremiah might otherwise be able to do with his anus. 

The implications of such a device swam around in Jeremiah's head as he lowered himself onto the toiled, pants still down around his ankles, chastity belt exposed within the safety of the bathroom stall. He had no idea what had just happened. His body was sore, his ass felt as though the sphincter was swollen and well worked, his prostate was nagging his with throbs of having obviously been battered; his cock and asshole were locked away from Jeremiah's control by some mysterious chastity device. He'd never left the office as far as he could remember, he blinked, he was gone, he passed out he was back. He'd been raped. Raped by both man and machine for what seemed to have been three hours. He was terrified. He thought about running back into the office and telling people about what he'd just experienced, but he knew as soon as he did he'd lose his job. 

With no knowledge of where he'd been, how he'd gotten their, or any idea how to prove any of it, his employers would simply let him go for the pure admittance of surfing porn from the work computers. For many of the same reasons, as well as the humiliation of the entire ordeal, he couldn't see going to the cops. He couldn't even remember which web site had set off all those pop up windows. As tears once again formed in his eyes, Jeremiah began to hyperventilate. Sitting on the toilet in this predicament, he'd never felt so alone, so violated and out of control. He was confused and out of his mind. 

As his cell phone chirped loudly to alert him that someone was calling he jumped high from the toilet, slamming back down onto his chastity device, driving the odd device in his anus into his sensitive prostate. He whimpered and saw a slight dribble of pre cum drip out of a few unseen holes at the base of his cocks shielding. He breathed deeply trying to fight off the dizziness and anxiety as he looked at his phone, it was his immediate supervisor Darren. He decided he had to answer it, he had to answer whatever questions Darren asked, but most importantly he had to inform Darren that he was going home early for the day. He did so quickly, explaining to Darren tat something had happened during lunch, something really bad that he couldn't speak about. Darren said it must have been something horrible which explained the three hour long absence. This only solidified the idea that Jeremiah had in fact left the office without any recollection of doing so. He was excused, but asked to come in to speak with Darren immediately the next day to explain his tardiness. He made his way back to his desk, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the office, grabbed his things and headed home.



Blink: Three



The following story is a fictional account. The characters are entirely unreal and so are their situations. Thus no direct attention was paid to probability or safety for the characters. Such practices should not transfer over to real life situations. Practice safe, sane and consensual sex. For your own damn good. If you have problems or issues with queer pornographic materials, please stop reading now. If you find, on the other hand, that you are quit the purveyor of perversion and that this particular story seems to get your proverbial rocks off, please feel free to contact the author, Kenji De Sade via the CONTACT tab on his profile. Thank you.

*

Jeremiah stood with his back leaning against the only door leading into his apartment. He stared into the open space, which was essentially a wide hallway leading to a tiny bedroom and bathroom, both nearly equal in size. The living rooms almond colored wood floors were near as pale as the white walls. the furniture was a cheap and small matching set; a simple chair which looked almost as broad as the simple love seat, both covered in a dark blue upholstery. Each piece of the seating arrangement sat atop equally drab and plain grey rugs, so as not to scratch the wood floors. The cheap prints of expensive art he could not afford adorned the walls in uniform poster size, frames and symmetrical placement. His television, nine-teen inch atop a useless and bare entertainment center, was the final coup de grass of his humble abode. 

Jeremiah thought for a moment to look for anything that might be missing, and then realized after taking stock of his life, he didn't really own anything worth stealing. His life hadn't consisted much of anything beyond going to work and coming home. He kept his friends at a distance and spent little time with them. Most of his socializing was done from his computer via blogs and social networking web sites, which he visited in the background while surfing for porn. In fact the only thing worth stealing was his laptop, which he'd last left in his bedroom. On his way there he decided to make it a point to head toward the adjoined bathroom where he regretfully remembered losing his bowels the night before. It hadn't occurred to him till this moment that since he'd fallen, body flat, into his own feces, he'd not even had the chance to clean himself and doubted, given his shit filled diapered state of being, that his captor had the consideration to clean the filth away for him. 

He stripped his cloths with no sense of rush nor worry, allowing them to fall where they landed as he made his way into the apartment toward the bedroom and bathroom to bare witness to the heinousness travesty he knew he and the bathroom must have been at this point. As he entered the bedroom, hands unfastening his pants, shirt already removed, he stared dumbfounded at his bathroom doors sudden lack of a door knob. Quickly he walked toward the door and out of his grey slacks and black shoes to inspect the bizarre change. At some point, either while he was sleeping or whilst he was blindly getting to work, his tormentor had for some devious reason removed the door knob and replaced it with what appeared to be a very strong dead bolt lock. After a quick scan Jeremiah was able to confirm that the door itself was impenetrable, without battering it to splinters of pine. 

Jeremiah couldn't believe anyone would go through this much trouble for seemingly no beneficial reason. He was completely in the dark about his captor. He had no idea when the rubber hooded man would suddenly do whatever he does and appear to torment him. He'd been raped and stripped of his own bodily functions, now it seemed he couldn't even bathe or brush his teeth of his own volition. Jeremiah thought for a moment that if maybe he could make sense of it, maybe if he could empathize with his captor and figure out some way that doing this to someone might be beneficial to another man; he might find some solace in his situation. But try as he might he just could not make any sense of the matter. To him, the entire situation was purely insane. 

He backed away from his door, toward his bed, and plopped himself down on the soft cushion of his mattress. He grunted and felt his cock twitch, reminding him of the hollow tube embedded within the appendage, as the steel intruder holding his asshole wide open pushed in deeper. He felt the mass of filth in the back end of his diaper, a putrid mixture of pre-cum, feces and urine, mash and smooth it self along the contours of his most private regions. The mush moved up between his taint, he was sure he could feel some forcing its way beneath the steel cup as it squished over his trapped crotch, and it also spread out around his ass cheeks, up his crack, and slightly up the back of the diaper. It was a slick cushion of his own wastes and the feeling along with the reminder of his temporarily ignored state left him abashed and humiliated. 

He sat there; eyes watery with tears, nude save for a large and full cloth diaper, covered to keep the mess in with clear plastic pants. Ashamed at himself for sitting in the stew of his own filth without thinking of it, he looked down toward the diaper to inspect it, for the first time actually getting a chance to really look at the thing. It was surprisingly simple to him, a basic white cloth diaper. Well white cloth, not surprisingly, stained yellow with urine. The thing that was astonishing to him however was the sheer thickness of it around his waist. He'd noticed the waddle to his walk on his way home from the office, he'd been humiliated and embarrassed by his birds eye view of it's obviousness under his grey slacks, but thus far he had been in no position to truly understand how big the diaper was. He moved around atop the bed, feeling his wastes move with him, so that he might inspect further. 

Spreading his legs, Jeremiah was able to compare the thickness at his crotch with his own thigh; he estimated it must have been at least four inches of thick padding. The width between his legs was nearly that of his fully splayed legs, if the cloth had been more solid he would practically have to do the splits while walking. There was an obvious brown tarnish to the white fabric which got darker as Jeremiah's eyes made there way further between his legs. If the plastic pants weren't clear he wouldn't have been able to see the state of his own diaper so easily, he wasn't sure if this fact was a good thing or not. He could tell from his wobbly motions on the bed that sitting for any length would prove to be a practice of balancing skills due to the bulk. 

It occurred to him at this point that he might be able to remove the diaper; his hand searched the waist of the clear plastic pants and came to feel a rather solid waistband. It wasn't tight enough that it was digging into him, which he assumed mixed with the over stimulation and humiliation he'd been through was why he'd failed to notice it before. The chain as he'd discovered it was, it seemed, to tight to move down his waist. As his fingers followed along its ensnaring length toward his own backside, he discovered a small well secured pad lock. His defeat was overwhelming. There was no way out of any of this. Every small twist and turn he'd been given in the past couple of days had been thoroughly planned to ensure that there was no way out for Jeremiah. 

He thrashed himself about on the bed, lying back thrashing his arms, kicking his legs, and screaming out in frustration. Tears streamed down his eyes as he threw his tantrum. His bald fists slammed them selves down on the bed randomly, being bounced back by the springs below the cushioned surface. His feet followed suit, equally as futile in their expression of violence, equally as random in their motions. His screams echoed slightly in the small room, as he noticed in his fit of rage that the warmth of his diaper was being renewed. This realization brought a new calming dread to him, his fit subsiding, his tears continuing to flow regularly as his urine, his screams dying down to sobs as he lie there on his back, wetting him self, in his mess, staring at his stark white ceiling, then he blinked. 

Jeremiah's eyes opened back up and the world came streaming into full clarity with an unusual quickness as his eyes focused on his living room walls in only a moment. He was awash with a slight feeling of dizziness and nausea as his eyes wearily scanned the room. He was on the floor, on top of one of the drab grey rugs which had seemingly only moments before been held down by a chair. As he looked around the room he saw that his love seat was against one wall with the matching chair piled on top of it. These two chairs were carefully tied together so one would not fall from the other. His television was unplugged and turned around so the screen faced the wall it was up against, high on top of the entertainment center. In fact as he took stock of things it seemed everything in his apartment had been moved up out of the way. 

Jeremiah was on his knees, still warm and dirty diaper resting on his heels, his hands directly in front of his diapered crotch holding his weight. There were thick very well padded rubber mittens affixed to each wrist, effectively restraining his hands into fists and comfortably keeping his knuckles from pressing rudely against the rug and hardwood floor. He noticed next that his knees were being spared the same pressure thanks to a pair of thick rubber knee pads. As he attempted to stand he felt a tug at his waist and his ankles lifted with his ass nearly toppling him over face first onto the rug, however his protected fists caught the weight at the last minute. He muffled a cry of surprise past a large gag he felt strapped to his head. "At least there's no feeding tube attached this time" he thought to himself as his tongue explored it's shape and his neck craned to look toward his own ankles. 

It was barely a surprise to him as his eyes followed the largely knotted ropes leading from the leather cuffs on his ankles to some sort of odd rubber belt secured around his waist. He could tell that the point of this particular bondage was to keep him, if not on all fours, from standing on his own two feet. While he was at first relieved to see that his bonds were made of rope, he quickly realised that with his hands secured within their padded mitts he had very little hope of prying the knots loose and releasing himself. He looked closer at the black rubber belt strapped around his waist, which appeared to be connected to other rubber straps wrapping down over the front of his crotch to a thick solid rubber plate, effectively keeping the diaper pressed up against his skin and his thighs from being able to close. There were other thinner rubber straps also connected to this separator which ran around his thighs, sealing themselves over the leg openings of his clear plastic pants. 

Jeremiah's stomach fell when he saw, what he could, of his clear plastic pants. He had wet himself so thoroughly by this point that the diaper no longer seemed to be holding the urine. A dark yellow brown liquid was sloshing around at the edges of his thighs, held in by the black rubber device now strapped around his waist over his diaper. The liquid wasn't high enough in volume that the plastic pants were filled like a water balloon, it seemed as though the flooding had only recently begun. It also seemed as though he'd have time enough left in the diaper to fill the pants to their fullest. He certainly couldn't think of a way he'd be getting free any time soon. The smell coming from them was strong and carried a weight to it that filled his nostrils and clogged them with stink. 

Ignoring the sloshing liquid held around his waist he paid attention to the large object he'd been blindly feeling with his tongue. It was large enough that he could sense a small sore beginning in his jaw; it wouldn't be unbearable for a while though and could be included on the list of things to ignore for the time being. Its length left it feeling stout as it just barely hit the back row of his teeth. He was thankful for this, it didn't seem to be choking him in any manner, and oddly he found it was rather comfortable. The shape, texture and taste were all very familiar. The distinct sharp tang of latex accented the ridges of a small soft rubber cock. 

Jeremiah sat there; diaper on his heals, sucking the cock in his mouth and allowing him a moment to adjust to his new situation. It was sort of surprising to him how unsurprised by the change in scenario he was. When this all started two days ago he was absolutely terrified, then again, being alone, as it appeared he was, it was a lot less shocking then getting fisted and then raped relentlessly by an unyielding machine. Still, he felt it was odd that he'd gotten so comfortable, if one could call what he felt a feeling of comfort, after the transition he'd just been through. He really couldn't say that the rubber hooded man couldn't alter his emotional reaction to situations whenever he caused Jeremiah to black out. In fact now that it occurred to him, there wasn't much that he could imagine the rubber hood man could not do to him. 

He began to crawl around his apartment, asserting what little freedom he had left available to him self. The apartment being as small as it was, there wasn't much to purvey. Still he made note of the fact that seemingly everything he owned had been placed high up out of his reach. As he crawled on the floor around the living room he could see things like his mail, his house keys, his cell phone and even his jacket were on top of the television and entertainment center. The two rugs which had been under the chair and love-seat were pushed together in the center of the floor, it occurred to Jeremiah that this was perhaps intentionally reminiscent of a child's play matt. The small kitchen like area he'd had set up which consisted of a small microwave, mini refrigerator and coffee pot on a small table were found wedged, as out of reach as everything else, between the love seat and chair tied together for what appeared to be safety with the same type of rope his ankles were secured to his waist with. 

He crawled toward the bedroom, its door still open and the light on inviting him to see what it had in store. He could hear the liquid in his diaper moving around as he made the odd strides with his hands and knees, his feet dangling in the air from their bondage. The mess in his diaper was acting like a lubricant, allowing him to feel the padding smear across his ass as he crawled. His cock, he noticed, was throbbing half hard within its steal confines. The belts movements were as noticeable as all the other tactile sensations Jeremiah was taking in. 

The hollow steel rod was rubbing against his prostate, its weight being brought down by gravity seemed to make the pressure greater then it had been even while he was sitting on it. It was arousing to the point that Jeremiah found him self having to pause a moment to allow his muscles to contract and a small nearly uncontrollable groan to be muffled by the rubber phallus in his mouth. The twitch it caused in his own phallus sent a throbbing ache through his body causing another contraction of muscles. This second contraction caused the steel rod to push slightly more against his prostate and he felt a shudder run through him. He decided their may be some pleasures in his predicament, regardless of how stifled and painful they seemed. Either that or he was just really horny. 

He continued his venture through the door of his bedroom realizing for the first time, as though he'd had reason to realize before, that his bed was high enough that he couldn't see on top of it even if he were to set himself upright once again on his knees. He could however see above the bed. What he saw there was frightening to him in a way that only experienced horrors could be. Two rather large clear tanks were hanging over his bed. They were held in place by a couple of chains bolted into his ceiling. This was the second modification he'd noticed in his apartment. There were two tubes coming from the funnel like bottoms of each tank. The tubes conjoined shortly along their lengths to become one tube leading to an end which looked as though it plugged into something. Jeremiah assumed it was designed to plug into the gag he had worn during his force feeding. 

He paused a moment to think, realizing he hadn't noticed these tanks earlier before he'd blacked out and woken up bound as he was now. It was not like he could remember really noticing about the room after the initial shock of seeing that his bathroom door had been rendered redundant. The more he thought about it, the more important it became. If these were in fact the same reservoirs he'd been force fed from before, it mean that he was in store for much more of the same treatment. However if they were new, different reservoirs, the idea held many more complications. Were these reservoirs the same size? Did they hold more, or less of the bland textured mix? He felt his cock throb within it's unrelenting confines, tugging slightly on the tube within it's tortured flesh. The sudden contraction shifted the steel belt, and with it, the hollow tube holding his anus wide open. Another uncontrollable moan fought its way out around the cock shaped gage buried indefinitely between his lips. 

The bathroom door opened and Jeremiah's heart jumped into his throat. Rubber boots climbed up the meaty calves and thighs that appeared in its door way, they stopped at the black shiny cock shaped plastic cup locked around the otherwise rubber covered crotch from which the legs sprouted. The waist of the rubber pants met with the tucked in skin of the rubber shirt stretching itself tightly over the tight gut and chest it covered. The shirts sleeves were lost beneath thick rubber gloves riding from the wearers hands to his biceps. The collar of the shirt was tucked beneath the collar of the all too familiar, sun-glass eyed, open mouthed hood pulled tightly over a pair of painfully unrecognizable grinning lips. 

This time there was no begging. Jeremiah didn't even have it in him to scream anymore. He simply sat back on his haunches, diapered ass resting on his heels, mess squishing once again against his skin, suckling the cock in his mouth and whimpered up at the man in the rubber hood. The man's smile grew a tighter solidarity as he approached Jeremiah, defeated and simply waiting for what was to come next. Jeremiah grunted slightly as the man bent down, his hands beneath Jeremiahs arm pits, and hoisted Jeremiahs body onto the bed. As his knees came to rest on the soft surface, Jeremiah heard the crinkle of what he saw to be plastic sheets in place of his once stark white linen sheets. 

He was laid on his back, surprisingly un-violently by the man in the rubber hood. The rubber belt with its thigh separator and the ropes tied to it's back leading to Jeremiahs ankles ensured that his legs stay bent at the knees and splayed wide open. He felt the driest area of the back of the diaper, to his relief, soak up a bit of the dark brown liquid now resting in that area of his plastic pants. His arms were raised above his head and the wrists of his padded fist mitts secured to ropes attached to the bed. He felt more then saw further ropes being attached to the belt at his waist further securing him in place. 

He turned his head to the side to watch the rubber hooded man bend over and rummage around in some bag Jeremiah could not see. Soon he produced another rubber item from the bag, holding it up triumphantly and turning the emotionless black lenses and his featureless smile back at Jeremiah. He came over to the head of the bed and leaned with the rubber item toward Jeremiahs head, quickly yet carefully pulling the surprisingly thick material over his face. The placement seemed weird at first to Jeremiah as the eye holes were put properly in place yet his nose seemed crushed by some apparatus. The rubber hooded man was quick however to remedy the situation, quickly calming the sudden fear of suffocation he'd been temporarily overwhelmed with. Soon after his nose, rather then being uncomfortably crushed, was rather uncomfortably stretched. 




Blink: Three



It seemed this hood was specially designed with two tubes which had their ends secured deeply within Jeremiah's nostrils. Each tube was wide enough that he could feel the stretch they caused however; they did seem to allow for maximum breathing, as he was having no issue taking in lung fulls of latex scented air. He watched in curiosity as the rubber hooded man carefully kept the ends of the tubes within Jeremiahs line of sight. He lifted up a small box like device which he proceeded to place the ends of the air tubes into. This device seemed to divide the original air supply into four tubes. Jeremiah soon found, with the feeling of tugging and pulling at the waist of his well secured diaper, that this device allowed the tubes to feed each nostril with two supplies of air. One of which the man had inserted into the rank depth of the well soiled diaper. 

Jeremiah lie there taking in a mixture of both fresh air and entirely un-fresh air into his lungs, the sour scent held within his diaper coming in a faint and foul perfume. The man held the lengths of tubing once again into Jeremiah's view, holding them there for a moment to be sure Jeremiah was paying attention; he then capped the open ends with his rubber covered finger tips. Suddenly the only thing Jeremiah could smell was the nasty odor of his own foul wastes. The man uncapped the open ends, put them to his plain lips, and steadily exhaled a breath into the tubes. Jeremiah's nostrils were choked around the thick nasty smell being fed into them. He choked on the scent, coughing around the gag which seemed to be held even more firmly in place with the hood on. The man laughed, making the first audible sound of the night. The sudden break of silence actually seemed to scare Jeremiah more then the current breath torture he was being out through. 

The man in the rubber hood once again stepped away from the bed and rummaged in the bag, this time producing a smaller rubber item. Returning to the bed he quickly affixed the small blindfold over Jeremiah's eyes sealing his vision into darkness. Jeremiah suddenly realized that the hood over his head seemed to be thick enough to greatly reduce the sounds of the room around him. He lie there trying to calmly take in breaths of the shit and piss tainted air into his nostrils. He listened as best he cold to several seemingly loud clanking sounds being made in the room. He distinctly heard the sounds of liquid being poured above his head and his stomach began to feel tight. He felt a cramp take hold and his bowels lurched slightly. 

It was the most natural movement Jeremiah had felt in the past two days. His hole being held open as it was, his legs readily splayed, the long mass that was his shit pushed it's way into the already filth full diaper smoothly, the mess piling up against the fully used padding held in place by the thick rubber thigh spreader around his waist. It squished along his crack, once again pushing under the steel cup as it rode up his taint. As it continued coming out for what seemed to be a long while it traveled gravities path toward Jeremiahs back. As it came to an end, so did the shocking surprise of the rubber hooded man's hand swatting Jeremiahs renewed mess within its diapered confines. The hand patted the ass solidly, mashing the feces with each landing. Jeremiah also noticed that as each pat was made, and the hollow rod was pushed into his rectum, his muscled contracted and he let out a moan in pleasure. 

Several swats, and moans latter, Jeremiah felt a stirring in the end of his gag. On the outside he could feel the man toying with some end he'd never seen. Suddenly he was terrified as the back of his through opened up with an intake of a new supply of air. He'd been unable to feel it before, though now it seemed stupid to him that he hadn't imagined it before. It appeared that the cock secured tightly in his mouth had a hollow tube. Apparently this tube was cleverly placed in the center of the head of the penis buried just before his throat. It wasn't long before the new passage way was again blocked by what Jeremiah knew was the tube leading to the newly filled feeding tanks placed above his head. 

Within a few moments the cock within his mouth literally ejaculated the beginnings of the mushy thick paste Jeremiah had been force fed before. The flow was quickly adjusted after Jeremiah took his first few gulps of the flowing goop. It seemed highly erotic to Jeremiah being force fed this ooze. The cock made the scenario dirtier, more easily accept as a perverse form of pleasure, in a twisted way. The loss of sight also seemed to be helping, with his concentration centered largely on what he was feeling rather then trying to dart his eyes about the room he found it easier to find the pleasures hidden in this torture. The flow of thick pulpy juices being fed to him had been slowed to very steady and manageable pace. His cock was equally as steadily throbbing, fighting for a full erection within its confines, the tension seemingly made Jeremiah even more horny. 

He felt the mattress shift beneath him for a moment, then a warm rubber clad hand laid itself against his stomach. Slowly, in a wide pattern, the hand began massaging his midsection, rubbing Jeremiahs stomach in careful and soothing motions. The touch was strangely calming to Jeremiah. He felt himself relaxing as his stomach was massaged. Soon he felt a light pressure at his backside. A slight movement of his massively overfilled diaper, the manipulations were also rhythmic and soothing, the pressure slight and building slowly. This second massaging hand was causing the mess as well as the hole stretching steel apparatus within Jeremiah to move about ever so slightly. The result was a smooth and erotic stimulation to Jeremiahs prostate. Soon as the man continued building the applied pressure to both of his hands, Jeremiah broke out in a sweat and tried unsuccessfully to express his pleasure audibly, only to find the flow of liquid into his mouth rendered it impossible. 

This went on for several minutes, what seemed to Jeremiah to be at the very least an hour. He had no real sense of time, which was another thing he realized he was growing quickly accustomed too. He wasted little time musing on the various adaptations he'd been forced to make in his life as the pleasures he was feeling were far to enjoyable to be ignored. Never in his life had Jeremiah felt so absolutely degraded and lustful at the same time. No time before had he ever been so absolutely sure that he was not going to get off, yet so enthralled by the manipulations that were leaving him hungry to do just that. He found himself reveling in the constant and rising tension in his groin, the growing and increased sensitivity of his never ignored prostate, even the disgust he'd initially felt at being subjected to living in his own vile filth had turned into a love for the strongly arousing bulk, weight and smell of his embarrassingly full diaper. He took deep breaths of his own stink and felt himself awash with lust for more. 

The hands left Jeremiahs writhing body. The strange food was still flowing constantly, he'd swallowed to many gulps of it to be counted. It did not seem that it would come to an end any time soon and once again he could feel the painful ache within his stomach as it grew full. He sensed the clean air tubes being closed of and the full stench of his diaper was fed to him. He took long deep breaths as this happened. He swallowing each new load in his mouth at almost the same slow rate at which he was breathing. He continued to gyrate his hips even though the hand had stopped manipulating his asses intruder. He was still able to feel the slightest most teasing sensations within his anus as he continued the motion. His arms, waist and ankles all pulled at their bonds; though this time it was purely out of pleasure. Almost entirely unnoticed by him, the hooded man watched in pleasure, as Jeremiah's piss began to fill the plastic pants with fresh warm urine. Just as Jeremiah noticed the feel of his hot urine spreading amongst his freshly loaded diaper, he heard the click of the bedroom door closing. 



Blink: Two



The following story is a fictional account. The characters are entirely unreal and so are their situations. Thus no direct attention was paid to probability or safety for the characters. Such practices should not transfer over to real life situations. Practice safe, sane and consensual sex. For your own damn good. If you have problems or issues with queer pornographic materials, please stop reading now. If you find, on the other hand, that you are quit the purveyor of perversion and that this particular story seems to get your rocks off, please feel free to contact the author, Kenji De Sade via e-mail on the CONTACT tab of his profile. Thank you.

Two 

There was no warning what so ever. Jeremiah had been standing at the buss stop just outside of his office. There were five other people, a few other office workers from the area and a homeless looking fellow who kept yelling to no one in particular. Jeremiah was sweating more then anyone at the bus stop and he knew it was due to his heightened nervousness. He was, it seemed, afraid of every little thing at this point. He was afraid the way he walked made it obvious that he had some sort of contraption in his anus. He swore over and over again inside his mind that the steel cup of the jock produced an obvious bulge the entire world could see, though even standing before the mirror in the bathroom of the office he could not actually see an added bulge. Whenever he'd meet eyes with a stranger or noticed his co workers looking at him oddly he became panicky, believing that they knew what predicament he was in. In all actuality it was his outburst and sudden retreat from the office which caused the odd stairs. Even if anyone did notice that something was off, he reasoned with himself, he had no idea what was going on, outsiders would be even more baffled. 

Everyone got on the buss without incident. Jeremiah stood for a moment on the bus, conflicted with the idea of sitting or standing. On the one hand, all of the people sitting were at crotch level and thus able to examine his tortured state, while sitting would drive the object in his ass deeper, as he'd learned when trying to sit earlier in his office. As the buss began filling with passengers, and the seats quickly taken, he made a panic driven choice and dove for a seat, yelping audibly as his weight sharply drove his anuses constant intruder into his prostate. He knew, just as had happened whilst he was in the restroom at the office, that this action had just produced a small glob of pre-cum from his cock. 

Jeremiah wondered deeply weather or not the glob of seminal fluid would seep through the fabrics of his light grey pants and leave a tell tale sign of his debaucherous situation. He felt a deep sense of dread as he realized this outcome was almost certainly inevitable. As the buss was jilted from pot holes and various other poor street conditions, he felt every motion running like lightning from his seat, to his chastity device, into his anus and to his cock. He felt the sweat growing upon his brow, his face hot with a near constant rush of blood from embarrassment. The bodies pressing around him were exacerbating the heat as well as the jostling of his body. His dripping cock was aching to grow to full erection within the unrelenting obviously small steel cup. As though his nerves were on overdrive, he could also feel the odd sensation of the hollow tube embedded deep within his bladder. 

This was the first time Jeremiah had even noticed the sensation. It took him a few moments to piece it together. Still, when he'd come to the realization of what it was his fear riddled mind refused to believe it. The first thing he noticed was that the harder his cock tried to get the more he felt a tug deep beneath his groins surface. As this revelation came he reflexively tried to contract his muscles only to find they felt as though they were being held from closing, as though the muscles were being stopped of reaching their normal tightened state. The feeling was initially erotic until the various possibilities started coming into his mind. As the flow of people in the bus around him continually shifted he lost himself in thought systematically going through the list of scenarios he might still be in. 

During this musing, every question Jeremiah had about the odd sensation deep within his groin gained a solidarity he'd been wishing with all his will would not come to fruition. He felt it immediately, the warmth spreading beneath him, soaking into his light grey work slacks, absorbing into both skin and cotton till both would hold no more. The bowl like bus seat began to retain a puddle of his now steadily flowing urine. His heart was pounding, his head was swimming, a slight wave of nausea took hold of his stomach. He closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to fight against the unyielding tube within his bladder to no avail. 

The bus was stacked full of passengers. There were people pressed all around Jeremiah, aggravated people, whom did not want to stand cramped against other passengers. They watched him from the corners of their eyes, as well as the other seated passengers, waiting to swipe the coveted positions the moment one might become vacant. He watched as this happened over and over again as the bus neared his stop. He hopped and found himself even praying that the bus would clear most of its human cargo by the time it came to his stop. To his horror fewer people were unloading their bodies from the cramped quarters then were loading on. More and more eyes were on him stop after stop. 

Jeremiah shifted in his seat, unexpectedly releasing a small grunt as the steel shaft in his bowels stirred with his motion. He instinctively looked up to see if the many people around him had heard his vocal expulsion. His eyes widened like a terrified animal staring into the eyes of its most feared predator. A young woman had noticed. It wasn't clear what exactly had drawn her attention, though it was obvious something had, as her eyes were now locked, open nearly as wide as Jeremiahs own, on the drip of liquid rolling from beneath his crotch. The liquid had been, up till now, stagnant beneath his moist ass. It seemed as though his shifting of weight had caused a stir in the pool which was now sloshing to the ground beneath between his feet. 

The emotions that stemmed from realizing he'd caused his urine to spill into a more obvious puddle at his feet were conflicted to say the least. He was altogether grateful that the puddle beneath him bore less weight while struggling with the horrifying reality that there were now two puddles of his own urine. As other peoples feet sloshed and splashed in the liquid below him and he did likewise in the puddle beneath his ass, he found himself stymied at the sheer volume of urine he'd produced. This all added to his already over whelming anxiety. His head was spinning in a constant unrelenting buzz. His breaths were coming quickly and his vision was blurring. He felt as though he might faint as the bus ominously came to its stop just a block from his apartment. 

Jeremiah's initial plan was to move like an animal running from its predator. Leaping from his seat, slipping through the mashed bodies of people and out the doors of the buss before anyone even had a chance to blink. Instead, as he leaped from his seat, he was met with an immovable wall of people. It was like slamming himself into a solid yet squishy pink wall of flesh. The faces of the bodies he'd thrown himself into contorted to angry fierce shapes. Expletives demeaning his worth as well as his mothers were shouted, repeatedly by some, as well as questions toward his mental illness. This was when the particularly painful comment was made that sunk his rapidly beating heart. The young woman who'd noticed the leak from his seat shouted "I think the guys retarded, it looks like he pissed his pants, and it's all over the seat he was in!" 

Jeremiah was so astonished at how quickly the young woman's observations had caused the sardine packed passengers to part their bodies and clear a path for him that he stood slack jawed for a moment to long. Long enough that several other passengers were able to observe his soaked backside and puddle filled vacant seat. A steady murmur built to a crescendo of disgust, concern, and purely evil commentary from those around him. The comments being made were harsh enough to snap him out of his bewilderment just as the doors to the bus were about to close. He made a mad dash toward them, getting out of the most embarrassing situation he'd found himself in since grade school and entering into a whole new word of possibilities. 

Before Jeremiah stood a couple of his neighbors in front of the corner grocery store. They both stared slack jawed at him, standing there in his wet trousers, vile names and accusations being shouted to him from the closing bus doors he'd just come out of. He'd been prepared for relief; he'd been ready to run to his apartment unseen. He had not been prepared for anyone else in his life to have any idea of the situation he'd found him self in until he was able to at least understand it himself. The longer he was in this situation, the less control he felt he had on his life. 

Before the belt, he'd been bound, unable to release himself, trapped. With the belt, he was seemingly free. He could go anywhere anytime. Yet there was no escape. The belt around his waist seemed to ensure that his inability to control what was happening to him was blatant and constant. The humiliation and loss of his personal sanctity was affecting him far more then the rape had. This wasn't just a temporary violation; this was seemingly permanent. Every aspect of the past several hours of his life had been completely taken from him and decided upon by someone else. Someone had come from no where and violated every nook and cranny of his being in ways he couldn't have ever imagined. 

Jeremiah began screaming at the top of his lungs. All of his emotions pouring out of his body and into a primal yell. Everyone on the street, within the small corner store and in passing cars stopped in their tracks to stair at the raving mad man he had become. His mind had broken and was releasing itself of the over abundance of confusion it had been receiving. His body shook as the scream became a dying ragged exhale and his feet began running. Tears were streaming down the sides of his still open mouth. He could feel the cooled urine on his backside and inner thighs of his pants as they pressed on and off of his rapidly moving legs. He got to the door of his apartment building and growled at another tenant whom was pushing his own way out the door. He was barely even aware of his own behavior at this point, seeking only the solitary comfort of his home. 

Never had Jeremiah felt so glad to be within the confines of his small studio apartment. It's four white walls adorned with framed prints of his favorite artists, wood floors with rugs beneath the sparse yet matching furniture, had never seemed so safe and secure as they did at this very moment. He stood, still clothed in his tucked in button down work shirt, light grey soaking wet work slacks and now equally wet socks and shoes. The wetness of his socks, he realized, was new. This brought a new found, albeit less overwhelming, panic into his head. 

Quickly his pants were stripped from his legs; his shirt had been mostly ripped off and ruined in rage and fear, his shoes and socks discarded amongst the pile somewhere. He stood now, naked, in front of his bathroom mirror. He stared into the mirror angrily and afraid at the shinny metal contraption around his waist. He studied the smooth shiny innocent looking steel cup covering his straining cock. Its solid form keeping him from removing the catheter buried deep in his urethra and deeper into his bladder. He examined, as best he could, the hinged thong of metal that ran from the base of the cup to the device in his anus and to the belt at his waist. He was looking for any sign of weakness, any latch or form of release he could find and he found nothing.  

He grabbed a smaller hand held mirror from his bathroom cabinet to help himself get a better angled view of his confining tormentor. With this new vantage point he was ale to see the hole at the base of the cup where his bodily fluids had so freely flowed. In fact they still seemed to be flowing at some rate. It was slow but constant, a mixture of seminal fluids and urine dripped from its tubular walls. For the first time in his life, Jeremiah completely understood what it was to feel appalled. This device secured around his waist was of the most debaucherous design he could ever hope to fathom. 

The hinged rod at Jeremiahs taint which led to the cylindrical hallow shaft buried deep within his anus was a mere inch or so from the drainage hole. He contorted his arm and body a bit more to get a good look into the hole, taking a moment to find a flashlight; he wanted a really good look. He felt himself swallow hard as he got the look he wanted and saw clearly up into his very own rectum. He stared in bewilderment at the depth of his own ass hole and contacted his muscles to see if he had any hope of closing the opening of his own free will. Much to his dismay he did not. 

Jeremiah had come to a point of calm hysteria in his mind. He was still overwhelmed with confusion, worry, fear and humiliation, however he'd come to accept that these emotions were not going to end until he'd figured out who was doing this to him and how to stop it. As he continued examining the steel belt and its pieces he began formulating possible ways he might discover his captor, or rapist, he couldn't decide what he was really. This man who'd somehow made him black out at work and gotten him to some cement room tied to a dirty bed, then proceeded to sodomize him with both his fist and a machine. Jeremiah gained a new frustration, to add to the many flying restlessly through his head, as he realized he couldn't even begin to think of where to start looking, he couldn't even tell what the man had looked like. 

Jeremiah felt his bowels rumble and felt slightly faint. His knees buckled and he nearly fell. Standing on the tiled floor of his bathroom he found himself doubled over clutching his cramping belly. Involuntarily he felt his bowels lurch. He knew what was coming as the sweat formed on his brow was and he slowly lowered himself to his knees, crouching in the small space of his bathroom. The pain from his cramping intestines was far too strong for him to move beyond his current position. With a final painful cramp and a load craggy groan from Jeremiahs lips his body began forcing shit from his insides out the hollow steel tube burred deep in his anus and onto the tiled floor behind him. 

Jeremiah felt as though must have remained hunched over in that position for several moments in a mixture of pain, relief, horror and disgust as his bowels continued lurching and forcing more of his own waste out of his open hole. The smell was permeating the room and his body was feeling exhausted from the expulsion. As the flow of feces came to a halt he felt a wave of dizziness hit him. He wobbled in place for a brief moment before falling backward on top of the mound of his own shit. The smell increased ten fold as his body squished the semi solid clumps beneath him and he began to gag, he closed his eyes in hopes of controlling the urge to vomit. 

When Jeremiah opened his eyes his world was spinning in a dizzy array of bright white and yellow light. His vision was blurry and he couldn't make out anything for a second. He could barely even feel his own body at first. He realized he was laying on his back on a soft surface he could no longer smell the shit though he still felt somewhat queasy. There was also something in his mouth now, something thick and soft. He licked at the intruder lazily with his tongue, tasting and feeling its texture all at once. The object seemed to be a tasteless smooth plastic plug shaped device with a hole at its center. 

With the determination of curiosity behind his will, Jeremiah focused on his vision to try and see what was going with this object in his mouth, soon, inches from his face, a clear tube came into view stretching from his own mouth out into the great white of what appeared to be his own bedroom. He was able to surmise that this tube led back to a gag of some sort securely strapped into his mouth, he could now feel the strap leading back behind his head. 

As his conscious mind began coming back into focus along with his vision, he came to find, much to his relief, he was still within his own small apartment, lying atop his own bed. Much to his dismay however he also came to realize that once again he was tied down, helpless and in a new terrifying situation. He released a sound of exasperation past his gag which had he had use of his own mouth would have taken the form of the words "Oh come on!" He tested his bonds in short order checking that each was secure. Leather cuffs at each wrist and ankle tied by a means he could not see, however there was not the familiar clank of chains from before. He turned his head from side to side taking stock of his seemingly untouched room. There was no one else there with him. 

Jeremiah could now feel his body, the stretch of the bonds on his limbs, the soft familiarity of his own bed beneath him, his head resting on top of his own pillow, his ass not hanging off of the bed ready to be plowed. In addition to the last mental note he realized his ass felt a bit different then it had before. As he shifted his bodies' weight he found he was still in fact locked into the chastity device. He could feel the strange yet familiar invaders in both his cock and ass. He could feel the belt of steel around his waist and the rod secured between his ass cheeks. However could hear a plastic like crinkling with his movements. He could also feel that all of this seemed to be covered by a soft, thick, and well secured fabric. 

Jeremiah moved his head up from his pillow as best he could to get a good view of his crotch, the most he could see was a clear plastic and white cloth covered mound covering his midsection. The rest of his body seemed to be completely nude. He was surprised to find how relieved he was to know that he had a diaper strapped around his waist. He almost considered it an act of mercy. He let himself fidget around a bit more in the bed trying to get a grasp on the diaper secured around him. It seemed very thick as he couldn't seem to close his, albeit restrained at the ankles, thighs to close any further then they already were. 

The noise caused by Jeremiah's fidgeting must have alerted his captor to his arousal as Jeremiah soon found him self frozen in place, held there by panic at hearing some ones footsteps walk along the floor just outside his bedroom door. The door knob jiggled momentarily and soon Jeremiah was looking back into the emotionless black sunglass like eyes of his captor. The hood wrapped securely over his head was the only familiar apparel the man wore. This time his body was shrouded by a long leather jacket buttoned from the mans waist to his collar. 

Jeremiah immediately began begging though his gag at the man. He repeated the same word over and over, hoping each time that it was more audible then the next, trying simply to form the word "Please" as he did so. He hoped to encompass with that one word all of his sorrow for any wrong he could ever think of that he'd ever done to anyone in his entire life. He hoped to encompass all of the fear, dread and anxiety he felt as a result of what this man was doing to him. He tried over and over again until finally he remembered how this man had reacted, or rather completely ignored and paid no attention, to his previous attempts at pleading for mercy. The man was now, true to form, paying an equal amount of attention to Jeremiahs muffled cries. 




Blink: Two



With a renewed silence the rubber hooded man moved close to the head of the bed and raised his arms high above Jeremiah, just above his line of sight. The mans glassy black eyes stared down emotionless at Jeremiah while his visible lips slowly contorted to a crude and devious smile. Jeremiah watched the tube leading from his mouth and up into wherever the mans hands seemed to disappear to and watched in stunned fear as a thick milky white liquid came oozing down inside the clear plastic. 

Waiting for the goop to make it's way to his moth was agonizing for both Jeremiah as well as, it seemed, his captor. However Jeremiah was sure where he himself was willing the strange liquid to clog itself in the tube long before it reached his mouth, his captor was willing the opposite thought. It seemed, eventually, that the man in the rubber hood had the much stronger will of the two, as the liquid came dripping in through the gag in Jeremiahs mouth onto the back of his throat as well as his tongue. The taste was plain and unrecognizable. There was nothing remarkable about it at all. The texture however was an abundance of unique perception. There was a grainy quality as well as a pulpy, course substance. The whole mixture was held together by an almost gelatin thick liquid. 

The mans hands fiddled with a few more unseen things for a moment and soon Jeremiah's mouth was filling with the white substance at a steady pace. It didn't take long for him to get into a rhythm, his mouth would fill with the thick mixture and he'd swallow, take in a breath, and wait for his mouth to fill again within a space of a few seconds, and then repeat. As he did this several times, the hooded man moved slowly around the bed, checking Jeremiahs bonds one at a time as he went. The man stopped on each pass of Jeremiahs midsection to lightly pat Jeremiahs diapered and steel covered crotch. He smile crudely as he did so and look with his blank glass stair at Jeremiahs constantly swallowing mouth and neck. 

Jeremiah was starting to feel the strain of his efforts to keep swallowing the thick goop steadily flowing into his mouth. His jaw was just starting to get the faintest ach to it, his stomach was beginning to feel fullness, and his throat was getting tired of repeatedly contracting. He was relieved when his captor once again reached for the out of sight supply of whatever it was he was being forced to digest, and the flow slowed down. He found however that he was quite concerned with the fact that the flow had not stopped. It continued to slowly fill his mouth, every minute or so he'd have to take another swallow. The man made another pass going from restraint to restraint and patting Jeremiahs diaper while the food stuff kept flowing. Then the man opened the door and left the room. 

Jeremiah lie there, in his own bed, on his own sheets, in his own apartment, tied down against his own will being force fed some mystery mixture through a tube plugged and strapped into his mouth. His cock, balls, and asshole were all restrained by a secure and devious chastity device which left him chastised and entirely incontinent, liable to wet and mess himself at any moment. Luckily however, over that he was strapped into what seemed to be a very thick and large cloth diaper covered in clear plastic pants. He was once again left alone to experience a slow and inescapable torment with no idea of what would come next. 

He lie there for what seemed like hours, constantly swallowing over and over again, growing more and more full, his mind growing more and more tired at the tediousness of the task. His mouth was under stimulated due to the bland flavor of the mixture. The tactile strangeness had long since lost its appeal. He had even stopped paying attention to his own uncomfortable groans, which he seamed to let through every now and again as the pain of his stomach stretching got to him. Oddly it seemed the flow had been timed perfectly as by now Jeremiah was sure he'd have vomited such a large mass of intake had it flowed more freely. It was this fear of vomiting that allowed his sense of relief at the end of the mixtures run, when finally, as if it had spent an eternity reaching this point, the goopy ooze came to an end. He let out a triumphant and gleeful laugh and closed his eyes in happiness. 

When he opened his eyes he was sitting upright. He was in a foggy stupor, the edges of his vision once again blurry, a sense of dizziness overcoming his senses. Someone was talking; their voice seemed far away at first. Suddenly it came into full clarity as though it were a THX splash advertisement right before a movie. The voice seemed to be asking him something, he concentrated harder on both his sight and hearing. To his complete surprise, his boss Darren came into view, sitting behind his desk back at the office. The early morning sun was coming into the room through the window, painting Darren in a golden light, his face wearing a look of deep concern. 

"Jeremiah, are you okay? Are you alright?" he asked for what Jeremiah was sure must have been the third time. 

"I'm sorry, what? Yea, uh. Hi, yea, sorry." Jeremiah stammered back, completely unsure of weather he was okay or not. Let alone how or why he was sitting here in Darren's office all of a sudden when seconds ago he'd been in the second worst situation of his life. 

"It's okay Jerry," Darren affectionately said "It's understandable with someone going through, well, you know, what you're going through right now. I, we, the company and I want you to know that it's okay and we understand." Darren was choosing his words carefully. 

Jeremiah was trying hard to figure out what new situation he was in, all he could say in response was "Okay, um, thanks Darren." 

"Great Jerry I've already sent out an email to Sarah in HR briefly explaining to her what the situation is and she knows how to handle it. She'll have all the paperwork sent to your home immediately, it should be there within the next couple of days. All you have to do is fill it out, provide the necessary doctors notes, and you'll be all set. Just go home, stop by your desk if you need too, and try and get yourself, well, you know, better, as soon as you can." Darren smiled, but the smile seemed more worried then it did happy. 

Jeremiah Shifted in his seat as he listened to all of this new information. He didn't know anything about any doctors notes or know of any reason he'd tell Darren and apparently the entire company about that he'd need to get better from. He realized as he nervously moved in his chair that he was still wearing the diaper from his previous situation. Along with his confusion over what Darren or said, he was suddenly awash with the knowledge that he was, and had somehow gotten into his office wearing what he could still only assume was a very large diaper beneath what looked to be the very same grey slacks he'd worn into the office the day before. He suddenly wanted nothing more then to get back home and out of that office as quickly as possible. 

As soon as Darren finished his sentence Jeremiah replied with "Yes, thank you, I understand, I'll wait for the stuff in the mail and turn it right around. Gotcha, is there anything else then Darren?" He was standing and offering his hand for a shake by the time he uttered his Boss's name. 

"Uh, na, no" Darren stammered "Nothing else at all Jerry, you just uh, take care of yourself okay there buddy?" he shook Jeremiahs hand unsurely. 

"Yea sure thing boss, guess I'll see you latter" Jeremiah shouted back as he briskly exited Darren's office. He continued his brisk stride once again through his office, feeling himself wobble back and forth with each step; he was trying not to obviously look down at his midsection as he went. Eventually he got a quick good view and stopped momentarily in his stride. He looked down at what seemed to him as an incredibly obvious bulge protruding from his crotch. He quickly fell back into his wobbly stride and made his way for the door. 

As he stood once again waiting for the buss, he could feel the eyes of the other patrons waiting at the stop. The homeless looking man from before, whom had at the time been shouting expletives at invisible beings, was this time silent, and staring quite obviously at Jeremiahs well padded back side. 

The homeless looking man proclaimed loudly, more in Jeremiahs direction then at Jeremiah "I had to wear those for a while my self! Shot up some bad shit once that completely wrecked my system, couldn't hold a solid shit for seven months!" the man was actually pointing at Jeremiah's diapered ass. 

Jeremiah was mortified as he, and the now painfully aware of his predicament passengers filed onto the buss. Once again the buss was packed full of passengers, however this time there was no seating available for Jeremiah once he was aboard. A few of the other passengers including the homeless looking man had found seats, taking up what had been available. Jeremiah was forced, serendipitously, to stand directly in front of the homeless looking man, his padded crotch in the fellows face. 

As the bus drove on Jeremiah could feel the worry growing on his face as small cramps began to grow through his stomach. He was trying harder to not show the emotions he was feeling then he was to hold back what he felt coming; he knew the latter would prove to be futile. He fought back tears and the want to run. He resigned himself to the fate he knew would come. The pain in his gut was growing far to quickly for him to make it to his apartment before it happened. 

Sure enough, just a couple of stops into his journey, Jeremiah let out a low audible and long groan as what felt like a nice solid and equally long load of shit piled into the confines of his diaper. He could feel its length bending and shaping itself as it forced it's way out and into the cloth barrier. The brace created by the diaper caused resistance to the continuing flow coming from Jeremiahs wide open hole, which caused his bowels to lurch harder then before. Another audible groan escaped Jeremiahs mouth uncontrollably and his eyes opened wide to see the majority of the passengers on the bus look at him in horrified disgust. 

The homeless looking man proclaimed to anyone who might be willing to listen "That's exactly how it used to happen to me! Shit would just start filing up my diaper out of no where at the absolutely worst of times!" he was vigorously nodding his head to affirm what he himself had just said and looking from passenger to passenger from some sign of understanding. 

Jeremiah on the other hand was trying hard not to look at anyone as stop after stop seemed to produce more cramps in his bowels, and once more before his stop, he released another load of poo into his now full diaper. Just as he reach his stop he realized at some point the diaper had also gained warmth it hadn't had to start with. He'd apparently also wet himself. 

It was no surprise to Jeremiah that once again, as he got off of the bus, loud calls proclaiming the brutality of stink coming from his diapered ass and how thankful the other passengers were that he was getting off the bus being called out after him, the same two neighbors from the day before were standing at the grocery store staring slack jawed at his obviously diapered form. They continued their staring, though they eventually closed their mouths, as Jeremiah dejectedly strode toward his apartment building, up his stairs, and into the now unsafe confines of his uncomfortable and frightening studio apartment, unsure of what he was going to, or could do next.