by Kat Rose
Julia glances over her shoulder, her meaning clear. It's a warning. I had better not criticize her uniform.
"This is going to look adorable on you!" This time around, she isn't giving me a choice. Instead, she holds up another outfit. Strangely enough, I've seen other college students wear outfits just like this one.
It's a pair of footie pajamas. It looks like something an actual toddler might wear, only this one is a light shade of powder blue, it's fuzzy, and it has cartoon lions embroidered along the front. Then something else occurs to me.
"There's no zipper," I say.
"That's right! There is no zipper, not in the front anyway," she says, and then she turns of the foot he pajamas around. There's a zipper, all right, but it goes up the back, starting near the posterior and making his way all the way up to the nape of the neck.
"If you put that on me, I'm not going to be able to take it off."
"Dylan, here such a cute, silly little boy. But maybe it's time for another lesson." I flinch when she says those words to me, mostly because I think that she wants to spank me again. But no, she places her hands on her hips, and she nods. "Go ahead and take your diaper off. Don't worry. I'm giving you permission, so it's totally okay."
Not really understanding, I decide to take her word for it. I don't know why she would want footage of me taking my diaper off, but I want out of it.
So I sit up again, climbing on my knees, and I reach for the buttons between my legs. I begin to flex my fingers, only to realize something. These mittens are too thick and too heavy. They make it impossible for me to get any kind of leverage with my fingertips. So long as I'm wearing these stupid things, I'm not going to be able to use my hands.
When I stop to contemplate my situation, Julia smirks again. Her voice is laced with barely contained the giggles. "Oh? What's wrong? Why aren't you taking off your diaper."
I don't say anything. Staring down at the carpet underneath my knees, I try to figure something out. There must be something I can do, something clever to get this diaper off.
The frustration bursts through me, so I spread my legs, and I reach down for the diaper. I try to poke at it with the tips of my fingers. Maybe if I can just get a quarter inch down under the waistband, I can use my strength to force the diaper off. I don't care if I rip the onesie. I'm not going to let her tease me like this!
And yet, her singsong voice still pokes at me. "Oh, what's wrong, Dylan? Can't get your diaper off? Is that what's wrong, baby boy?"
I'm going to show her! I'm going to prove to her that I'm an adult, and she can't force me to wear a diaper!
My face starts to turn red again as I poke and push. Each time, my hand slides down the length of the onesie until I hit my legs.
"Poor little boy. Look at you, getting all flustered. You will me to help you? Maybe if you ask really, really nicely, I could get your diaper off of you. Or the very least, I could check you? Would you like that, sweetie? Would you like me to put my hand in your diaper to make sure that you’re nice and dry?" I snapped my head up and glare at her. "I don't need diapers!"
She doesn't sound impressed. On the contrary, this beautiful cheerleader just chuckled at me. "Sure, you don't," she says, making it worse by winking at me.
Finally, I fall back down. I'm on my bottom, my knees up and spread.
"Look at that. The poor little baby boy can't get out of his diapers. That must mean that he really needs to wear them."
She flicks the tip of my nose with one finger before holding up the footie pajamas again. "Now, you're going to wear these for me. Because if you don't, I'm going to have to punish you, and I don't think you want that, do you?" Julia shakes her head from side to side. It's an exaggerated motion, the kind you might use with an actual child who doesn't understand these kinds of nonverbal cues.
"No, I don't want back," I say.
She holds out the pajamas for me. Sucking on my bottom lip, I get up, and I step into the right pant leg, then the left. I move my legs all the way down, and then I feel the snug material as I run out of room. I wiggle my toes. I look down at myself. This is so humiliating!
And yet, there's nothing I can do about it.
Julia slides my arms into the sleeves. Then, when she satisfied, she reaches down for the zipper tab near my bottom. She pinches it between her beautifully manicured fingers, and she pulls it up. I hear the zipper as it slides up, higher and higher until she finally stops.
"You want to try again?"
I don't answer her. Staring ahead, I glare at some indistinct point in space. It's the best I can do.
"Go ahead. Try again. If you can get your diaper off, I will even let you go. No hard feelings," she announces.
That gets my attention. I look over at her, and I licked my lips, wondering if I really can do this. It's just a pair of foot he pajamas, I tell myself. Besides, if I can get this thing off, then she has to let me go, right? No, not really. There's nothing to keep Julia from breaking her word. Even so, I decide to take the chance.
This time, I stand up, and I look down along the length of my new outfit.
First, I reach for the zipper. I stretch my arm is much as I can. My nostrils flare, and I inhale, taking in one breath after another has my heart quickly pumps in my chest. I reach, trying to figure out where the zipper is, but I can't even feel the stupid thing!
Is it here? Now. Isn't there? No.
Exasperation nips at me. Again and again, I tell myself I can do this, though it's hard to hear that internal encouragement as a Julia taunts me.
"What's wrong, baby boy? Can't get out of your pajamas without your cheer sitters help? Keep going. You're almost there. Maybe you can succeed! Maybe you can prove to everyone that you're a big boy?"
I grit my teeth and do my best to ignore her. Because really, I don't have any other choice.
I find the zipper tab, and I press it down. I tried to pinch it, but the pad in my mitten makes that impossible!
Even so, I don't give up. I won't quit! I can do this. I continue to strain, stretching my arm is much as I can, and then I feel it. For just a second, it's almost like I have the tab right where I need it. Almost...I've almost got it.
Julia grabs my wrists and pulls it away. "Times up!"
My eyes go wide. "You never said there was a time limit!"
"Well, I am now," she says, batting her eyes at me. Her grin is almost angelic.
For a second, it feels like I'm going to throw myself at her. I'm bigger than her, so I should be stronger than her. But Justin then, she lifts up one finger and wags it from side to side. "Oh? Is that really what you want to do? Remember what happened last time," she teases.
She's not nervous or scared. She doesn't view me as a threat.
My anger dissipates, and I slumped forward. "Don't worry. You're going to feel a lot better once I feed you."
She turns around, quick enough to make her hair bounce against the nape of her neck.
Feed me? Like she has a hamburger in the closet or something? But no, she slides the door open again, and I see it for the first time, a small mini fridge talked away in the corner. She opens the door with a quiet pop, and then she takes something out. She's kneeling down, her back turned to me.
Again, I think about rushing over to her. Maybe if I knocked her down, I could straddle her and hold her. Maybe I could get some leverage. I don't have the use of my hands, but he still bigger than her, right?
No.
I can already see it playing out in my mind's eye. I would rush over there, and she would hear me can spin around. She would have grabbed me and use the momentum to knock me to the floor. I would just give her one more piece of recorded evidence that she's faster and better at this than I am.
Then she gets up, and she's facing me, and my eyes instinctively drifted to her right hand. That's because I see it.
It's a bottle.
Not just any kind of bottle.
She's holding a baby bottle.
"No." I say that wo
rd, do my best to draw a line in the sand. No. No, I'm not going to drink from a baby bottle. No, I'm not going to let her stuff a late text nipple in my mouth. I'm not going to let her hold me while I drink like some pathetic little baby who can't handle a cup.
"You're cute when you think you have a choice," she teases. Julia practically skips across the room, and then she leans forward. "Now, baby boy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. What's it going to be."
She might be standing, I might be on my knees, but I'm not going to surrender to her. I'm not! That's why I straighten my back and glare right at her. "I don't care what you do to me. I'm not drinking most stupid baby bottle. This is gone on long enough!"
Determined to prove my point, I start to stand up.
With an exaggerated sigh, the cheerleader knocks me down. She moves fast, so freaking fast! I can hardly process the movement. In one moment, I'm beginning to stand up. In the next, I'm down on my back, and she has her but on my shoulder. She presses down, shifting some of her weight, and I flinch under the assault.
Beginning to catch up, I realized that she leapt forward, taking her foot into the side of my chest. She knocked me back, and now she's on top of me.
Julia with the baby bottle up above my head. She several feet away now, but she squeezes. Droplets of milk splatter down against my face. I try to get away, but she just adds more weight.
"Roll over like a good little boy. Someone needs another spanking."
In spite of myself, my breath catches in my throat. "You get five spankings right now. I'm going to double it if you talk back to me." She grins down at me as she finally pulls her shoe away.
The question is obvious: what am I going to do? Will I try to defy her? Or will I meekly accept my spankings?
She watches me, and I roll over. I'm on my stomach, and she straddles me again. She reaches down, and she squeezes my diapered bottom, making the plastic crinkles.
"Brace yourself, Dylan. This is going to hurt."
She makes sure that it does.
This girl, and her freaking cheerleading uniform, smacks my leg. Her hand crashes down. The pain explodes through me, blossoming along my skin. I flinch, my eyes water, and I tense up. Before I can recover, she spanks me again. It's even more intense this time. I never know exactly where she's going to strike. The top, middle, or lower part of my leg? Will she strike right at the back of my thigh or off to the side?
With every blow, I feel something inside of me shrivel. At the same time, I'm panting now. The world is blurred around me because my eyes are dampening.
"You know, we didn't need to do this," she says, rubbing in her authority. "I mean, you could have just been a good little boy. All I really want from you is to suck on your baby bottle."
That's not true. She wants to see me suck on the baby bottle, but she also wants it to be recorded.
On my stomach, I focus on keeping the tears locked away in my eyes. I'm not going to cry, not in front of this girl, not while I'm being recorded.
She spanks me several more times. As she spanks me five times? Probably more. I've lost track.
"Now, say thank you for the spanking."
My stomach quivers with disgust because nothing could be more repulsive than thanking a girl for spanking. Again and again, I tell myself that I'm supposed to be a man. I'm supposed be stronger than her! I should be able to knock her onto the floor and hold her down. I should be able to kiss her, to press my body against hers. I should be fondling her perfect breasts and stroking her legs and running my hand underneath that split skirt of hers.
I don't get to do any of that.
I'm still on my back, and I know that if I hold out for much longer, she's going to add my punishment.
"Thank you for the spanking." My words are flat, quiet. They don't have any real energy in them.
"Good boy." She runs her fingers through my hair. "Now, tell me that you want to be said."
"I want to be fed."
"Actually, tell me you're hungry little boy who wants his cheer sitter to feed him."
This brings me to a stop. My brain freezes, and I'm not sure I can do it. But then, she leans down and skims her fingertips along my reddened skin.
Trapped on my back, I really feel like I'm hogtied or something. It feels like I've been captured, like I'm her prey. And now she wants to tease me and tormenting me. She wants me to admit defeat.
She gets it. She gets exactly what she wants. "I'm a hungry little boy who needs to be fed. Please, feed me. Please, I need my cheer sitter to feed me," I say, and some part of me becomes blank. I can't think. As my lips form those words, I try to retreat into the depths of my mind.
"Okay," she says.
The weight disappears from the small of my back, and she gets up. I push myself onto my hands and knees, just in time to see her sit down in the rocking chair. "Come here, little boy."
I suck on my bottom lip, hating myself for this, but I crawl toward her. She holds out a hand, and I'm not sure what she wants me to do. "Up on my lap," she commands, tapping her thighs with the flats of her hands.
No. I don't want to get on her lap! I'm supposed to be bigger than her!
Yeah, she might have a year or two on me, but that doesn't make that much difference.
"Come on. You don't want another spanking, do you?"
No. I don't.
A different sensation comes over me. I'm not sure exactly what it is or even how to understand it. But I drift. I know that I'm moving, but I feel like a passenger in my own body as I climb up onto the rocking chair, onto her lap. She cradles me in her arm, pulling me off to one side. I rest my head against her shoulder, and she brings the baby bottle up toward my mouth.
"This part is really important," she says. "You have to prove that you’re a big boy, the can handle something important. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"
Instinctively, I know exactly what she wants, just like I know that I shouldn't give it to her.
I shake my head, this quick, nervous little movement.
"Oh, you're such a cute, silly little boy. Open up. Open up for the rocket ship," she teases. She pokes the tip of the nipple against my lips.
"Open up, or there might be consequences," she whispers to me. Her lips and nose are so close to my hair. This feels so intimate, so good. There are probably guys who would love to be in this position with a girl like Juliet.
In fact, I feel my cheek against her breast, and my body actually responds. It betrays me as my shaft starts to stiffen.
Thankfully, Julia doesn't notice.
"Open up. Open up for the rocket ship," she orders again. She wants proof of this, the cheer sitter and the little boy. Because she wants this badly, she whispers, "Either you do this, or I put you on a leash and take you back to school and spank you in front of everyone."
My eyes go wide. I tell myself that's not possible. She couldn't possibly do something like that.
And yet, it's a college campus. Simply, wacky, goofy stuff happens all the time. Students go streaking. They wear costumes. When a boy toddling around in a diaper really be that unusual?
"I'll be good," I say. I know that's my voice, yet it seems to come from far away. I open my mouth, and she doesn't hesitate. Julia slips the bottle right up against my mouth. The nipple goes in several inches. It almost feels like I'm going to choke on it.
"There we go. There's my hungry little boy," she says, running her fingers through my hair and along my brow.
Now that the bottle is in my mouth, I tell myself I don't need to do anything else. She can just hold it here for a little while, and it would be a big deal.
She leans in, careful to hide her lips from the camera as she whispers to me, "You're doing a good job, baby boy. I like knowing that you will bend for me. But guess what? You still need to drink."
What? Is she serious?
I can't even look over at her, not while she has the bottle pressed up against my mouth. So I swallow instead, still refusing to suck on
the late text nipple. I hate feeling a bulbous tip in my mouth. I hate how deep it is. I hate everything about it!
"There we go," she says, cooing those words. "You like being a little boy, don't you? You feel very comfortable in your diaper, don't you?"
Her hand drifts down my body until she reaches between my legs. "Oh, you definitely like sting my baby boy. Is this your favorite spot in the whole world? Do you like being on your cheer sitter's lap?"
She feels it, my erection.
It's not fair. She's a hot girl. Of course I'm going to get excited!
"I bet you love being in diapers. I bet you can't wait to make cream in your diaper." She says those words, and she somehow keeps a straight face.
I look up at her, quickly shaking my head from side to side. No! No way!
And yet, she just grins down at me because she knows she can do it.
Julia is incredibly popular, so she probably has a lot of experience with boys. She probably knows exactly what it would take to get me off. Somehow, I don't even think that a onesie, for tea pajamas, and the diaper would be enough to deter her.
"Start sucking, little boy," she teases.
Before I know what I'm doing, I begin to pull against the nipple, sucking on it gently.
It's a lot of work. I almost expect the liquid to just flow right into my mouth. It doesn't. Instead, I haul of my cheeks as I start to suck harder, just the way she wants.
Finally, the bottle gives up its contents. Little droplets begin to hit the flat of my tongue. It tastes like milk, mostly, but it's a little bit sweeter than I expected. It's cool from being in the fridge. "Very good," she says. "I'm very proud of you."
Those are supposed to be complements, but I hate each one. Every time she tells mandate a good job, it means that I'm giving up my adulthood. I'm letting this girl training me.
Instinctively, I try to stretch out my fingers, only to feel the confines of the mittens. And while I suck and swallow, Julia absentmindedly touches my crotch. She runs her fingers up and down the length of my erection. She's teasing me. She doesn't apply enough pressure to make a calm, but I start squirming through the arousal.
"Oh, just a little boy like this? Does he like being fed?"