Evil Chastity Regime

Drool - Part 3

💊 Part 1 💊 Part 2 💊

"Oh no, Jess! It looks like our newest patient had a visit from the Potty Monster."

Your brain feels like it's melting. You're desperate to tic, but every muscle in your body is too sluggish and heavy to do more than slosh around in the sinking pool that has become your mattress. The enormous pacifier strapped in your mouth bubbles and squeaks as your lolling tongue pushes creamy drool through the pink shield. But that familiar wetness has been joined by a new one: a puddle of bitter-smelling urine that has periodically expanded and reheated over the last hour, your lower body paralyzed by Nurse Molly's muscle relaxers.

"Mmmmnnnnnnnnggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh," you moan into the thick shaft of the pacifier, dripping pathetically onto the tight cloth bib. The weight of your accumulating drool has now pasted the bib to your chest, and you can feel your saliva seeping through the thin pink paper of your hospital gown.

"You never mentioned any bladder troubles on your application, honey. It's okay, but it's a very important detail for the doctor to know about before your treatment can start!"

Your face gets so hot you can practically feel it crackle. You DON'T have bladder troubles! Nurse Molly obviously gave you too many muscle relaxers! You want to stammer out in protest, but with the leather strap securing the pacifier to your lips, you're completely unable to contradict your nurse's assumptions.

"Jess, I'm going to go fetch some protection. Can you do what you can with the waterworks?"

You become aware of a new presence as Nurse Molly leaves the room: a young woman in a white uniform with shoulder-length hair dyed in an eye-popping pink. You're humiliated to be seen by a stranger while you're writhing stupidly in a lake of your own pee and drool, nursing a fat pacifier and barely able to lift your worthless, mittened hands. You turn your head away as she approaches.

"Hmph. Just what we needed...another bedwetter," she says, her voice oozing with a mix of amusement and genuine frustration. "I'm Nurse Jessica; I'm usually on the night shift. I looked at your file. You're a twitchy one, aren't you? You've got a lot of work ahead of you, especially if we have to start dealing with soaked mattresses."

Nurse Jessica reaches behind your head to untie your cloth bib and peels the saturated square of fabric off of your chest. She tosses it to the floor with a wet plop before folding down the pink-and-white fiberglass guardrails of your bed. You desperately want to explain that you're not actually a bedwetter...but as the pink-haired nurse rolls you onto your side and begins laying down piles of dry towels, all you can do is suckle, sniffle, and moan.

Still unable to move under your own power, you try to focus on the television that has been playing non-stop since you were brought to the room. The bunny cartoon has been replaced with a show where some lady in a princess costume is interacting with puppets. The dialogue and plot are deliriously simple, but it's still preferable to acknowledging Nurse Jessica as she tears off your damp paper hospital gown and begins scrubbing your naked bottom. Once again, lacking any outlet for your instinct to tic, you try to concentrate your nervous energy on the rubbery bulb of the pacifier in your mouth.

"How's our super soaker?"

You hear the familiar voice of Nurse Molly as she pulls back the privacy curtain of your room. At first, it looks like she's brought some extra towels for mopping up your accident, but then you realize...

"Thick, thirsty diapers for our shy little lamb! Don't worry, honey, it's not uncommon for people with motor control issues to have some bladder problems. You didn't have to be embarrassed!"

"Nnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhh!" You cry out in a panic as Nurse Molly unfurls the massive diaper, holding its hourglass shape aloft like a white flag of surrender for your dignity. The plastic backing crinkles and pops, and you begin to writhe in your bed as she approaches with the mass of soft, heavy padding.

"Nnngh! Nnngh! Nnnnnnnnnngh!" Gurgling uselessly into the rubbery nipple that fills your mouth, the lingering effects of the muscle relaxers join forces with the puffy, constraining mittens to leave you completely at the mercy of these two beautiful nurses. Unable to communicate, you stare up at Nurse Jessica with pleading, desperate eyes as Nurse Molly snaps on a fresh pair of latex gloves and squeezes a liberal amount of white cream into her palm.

"Oh...do you need to tic? Get the wiggles out?" Nurse Jessica sneers, ignoring your obvious panic at the prospect of being taped into the massive diaper. She retreats over to the white-and-pink dresser, which you're surprised to realize is stocked not with the clothes and personal items you brought to the clinic, but with a menagerie of animal plushies, toys, and strange-looking clothes.

"Here, cuddle with Honey Horn. That should calm you down." Nurse Jessica dangles a giant stuffed unicorn above you, nuzzling it against your naked chest in a bid for you to grasp on.

You gasp slurpily as you feel the cold cream in Nurse Molly's gloved hand against the sensitive skin of your bottom. Instinctively, you wrap your bare arms around Honey Horn and pull her against your shivering body, aching for warmth and stimulation. All you can do is suckle, wimper, and squeeze the plushie unicorn as Nurse Molly lifts your legs so they form a right angle with the ceiling.

Nurse Jessica holds your ankles, and you feel the cold, damp towels replaced by a velvety, dry cloud. You wiggle against the odd sensation of your cream-slathered skin on the cottony lining of the soft diaper. You've regained enough feeling in your legs to feel the tightness of the leg guards hugging your thighs as Nurse Molly folds the popping plastic up to your belly button. The ripping tapes are like thunder in your ears, and when the nurses' hands finally let go, the new bulk around your hips stays. You summon the strength to shift Honey Horn to the side, just so you can behold what you already know: you've been snugly and securely diapered.

"Now we need to change out this mattress, honey, so we'll need you to get out of bed. It looks like you still have jelly legs from your medicine, so it's probably safest if you hang out with Honey Horn on the floor."

The nurses work together to lift you up and slide a purple cotton t-shirt over your torso before tying a fresh cotton bib around your neck. By the time Nurse Molly helps you plop down onto the pink blanket that Nurse Jessica spread out on the linoleum, your bib is already catching droplets of warm drool that ooze through the shield of your ever-present pacifier. You have no choice but to cling to Honey Horn, unable to do anything else with your mittened hands as you try to summon feeling back into your legs with weak kicks of your pink jelly sandals. And as you lie on your back, squirming and moaning through helpless suckling, your ears ring with the crinkles and pops of your fluffy white diaper, bulging like a balloon, overwhelming your senses with its tightness, its bulk, and its crackling song...

Crinkle, pop, squish, suck. Crinkle, pop, squish, suck.

Crinkle, pop, squish, suck. Crinkle, pop, squish, suck.

💊 Part 4 💊

She knows me well

Hunted

I sat in the limousine, my hands locked behind my back in handcuffs, not exactly the way I'd pictured riding in such a luxurious vehicle, as the woman who captured me made a call on her cellular phone.

"Hi Sydney," she said. "It's Jill. I've got him. He's all locked in handcuffs and I tied his feet once I got him in the car. We're on the way to you now so you can get the bounty. See you in a few hours."

She hung up as I glared at her. She smiled.

"Don't look at me like that," she said. "I'm not the one who had a fugitive warrant for my capture. It's not my fault I captured you, Mr. Griffiths. It's you who couldn't get away from me."

I blushed, shameful, enraged at myself. She'd approached me at an art exhibit, a very public event, and announced she knew who I was and that she worked for a bounty hunter who'd been contracted to capture me and bring me to face the warrant several states over. I'd asked her to take me somewhere private to handcuff me, but she'd refused and taken me into her custody right there, in front of dozens of people. Dozens more witnessed her walking me through the large art museum and out to this limo, and she'd sat me down, belted me into place, and tied my feet before calling in that she'd caught me.

"I really thought you were going to try to run," she said with a smile. "But I guess getting chased and caught was more embarrassing than surrendering to me to get arrested. Tough call, but I'm sure glad you didn't make me run. For that, I won't gag you for the drive."

She laughed at my dour expression, and patted my cheek mockingly.

"Cheer up," she said. "It could have been worse. Now you get to stare at me for the next few hours while I take you to my boss, and then to jail."

It’s lazy days like this when I just wanna chill and casually make my boy squirm. Like we could just be lying on each other doing our respective things and I’d ‘absentmindedly’ card my fingers through his hair and give it a tug or press into one of his hickeys. Then I’d go back to whatever I was doing.

Assertive Young Ladies #254

Permanent chastity is also not fun

Those who have been in chastity in a permanent setup for more than a few weeks probably related to this. The chastity belt is always there, in every moment. While it is exciting to read the captions you can find in tumblr and feel the constraint on the cage when you trying to get hard, or feeling the intense frustration when you are doing a massage to your owner...It is not so exciting in other moments. When you are locked in chastity as a lifestyle (not as a game you can stop at your will) there are many moments in the daily life which the cage feels a real burden: you have to wait more in toilets because you can not use the stand ones, riding a bike is not so comfortable, those tight pants you like you can not wear anymore, when you are on the beach and go swimming your cage is pretty visible,... While all of these things sound exciting, when they are part of your daily life and you can not scape from them can also feel overwhelming. My personal trick to overcome this feeling is using mantras like: "As male, I deserved to be locked in chastity", "All for Goddess Elise, none for me", "I orgasm when I please my owner", "I am locked in chastity because I am beta", "I am lock in chastity because I am a slave", "Chastity is her decision, not mine" These mantras (and some with a bit more degradation) help me to ground my mind into a submissive status in which accepting my situation at that moment became easier. Then I can continue doing the activity I was doing, still suffering from wearing the cage on that moment, but now with the reminder that there is great purpose behind it.