The Dom (Patreon Exclusive)

Contains: Spanking, Consensual roleplay, Messing, Dom in diapers, M/M relationship

Sidenote: I'm gonna start putting those keywords at the start of posts in addition to tags! 

“I’ve got a confession, Darren.”

The words escaped my lips before I could even decide If I wanted to say them. Maybe it was the late hour, or one too many drinks before we went back to his place, but I didn’t have the restraint to keep my mouth shut.

Darren paused in the act of retrieving a glass from the cupboard. Glancing back my way, he asked, “What’s that, John?”

He’d long since picked up on my nervous tic, using names for emphasis to really show when something was important. I almost never called him Darren, preferentially going with, “Babe”, except when something was really weighing on my mind.

I looked down, my focus drawn to the wood grain pattern on the kitchen island. I’d already started. I couldn’t stop now, not without making him massively suspicious. “Remember when you asked if I had any kinks?”

He smirked, then returned to getting himself water. “Oh, that kind of confession. Sure. I told you I was into some spanky stuff–what is it you like, then?”

“Well I said I liked to kind of take charge in the bedroom,” I said, rambling to give myself time before I got to the point. “That’s true, but…like. I…it’s diapers. I’m into diapers.”

That gave him pause. Darren froze, until the water began to flow over the cup and down his hand. He recovered, set down the cup, and moved to the fridge where a hand towel hung from the handle. “You…you want me to wear diapers?”

“No!” I said. “I mean, er. Well, yes, if you were interested. But the key thing is more, uh, me wearing them.”

The second surprise in as many moments, Darren set down the glass and looked at me. “While you’re taking charge? I’m…okay, I’m gonna to need you to walk me through how that’s going to work.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, quickly. “It’s–I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s ok, I just want to get it so I can follow along; I’m happy to get into whatever you’re into, I just need a primer.”

I cleared my throat, trying to find the words. “It’s something like this…”

…

My boyfriend arrived at my apartment a few days later, chinese takeout in tow. He let himself in with the key and moved smoothly to the couch next to me. I’d pulled a blanket over my lap, to ‘conceal’ what I was wearing beneath.

The plan was to wind down, watch a show for a bit, have dinner, and move on to the rest of our evening. Despite knowing we’d be taking it slow, beneath my pants my erection pressed into my thick, crinkly diaper and demanded my urgent attention.

“Hey, Babe,” I said, leaning over to snuggle against him. “How was work?”

“Oh, the usual,” he replied. “Short day, at least.”

“That’s good.” Normally, we’d chat more here, but my brain had been short circuited by the excitement over our plans, and small talk proved to stick in my throat. “Did you…drive here?”

He blinked at my comment. “Hmm,” he smirked. “Yes, I drove here.”

“What?” I asked, blushing at my own inane comment.

“You’re cute when you’re excited,” he teased.

Darren had a bit of a sassy streak in him. I didn’t mind one bit, it just made the next part all the more fun. “Well…okay,” I said. I felt awkward, still uncertain if opening up about my interests had been a good idea. Backing out now would just mean shutting the gate after the horses escaped, so I pressed on.

“Lemme get under the blanket,” he said. “I’m cold.”

I played at pretending to hesitate, then let him in, feeling his body press against mine. His hand drifted down to my waist, sooner than I’d expected, and he ‘accidentally’ brushed his fingers against the waistband of my diaper.

“Huh?” he said, looking up at me. Before I could stop him, he yanked back the blanket, revealing the prominent waistband of a diaper poking out from my pants. “You’re wearing a diaper?”

“Yeah,” I said, making my tone defensive. “Why?”

Smirking, Darren put on a teasing tone. “I thought you were a grown up,” he sassed, running his fingers over the front of my jeans, feeling my erect cock through a layer of denim and diaper. “I guess I was wrong, though–you’re just a little baby, playing pretend.”

Dinner, it seemed, would be delayed.

I grabbed his wrist. “Is that what you think?”

He nodded, laying it on thick. “Absolutely. I bet you have to wear them, too, don’t you?”

Pushing his arm back, I pressed Darren against the couch, moving so that I sat on his legs. “I don’t think I appreciate your tone,” I warned. “If you think you can get away with that, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Darren leaned in, holding eye contact with me as he whispered, “Baby.”

That was it. I pulled back from him, got off the couch, and addressed him while standing. “Get up.”

“Why?” he asked, casually obeying.

“I think you need to be reminded who’s in charge here,” I said.

“Well, only one of us here has to wear diapers, so…” he smirked.

I leaned in, adding sotto voce. “You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?”

He looked back at me, grinning wickedly. “No mercy. I can take it.”

Snatching his arm, I began to drag him across the apartment, towards my bedroom. He could have pulled away, but that wasn’t the game. Opening the door, I pushed him towards the bed, firmly instructing, “Strip.”

“But–” he started.

“Strip,” I insisted. “You just used your one free pass. Sass again, and you’ll regret it.”

He nodded, finally cowed–a little–and began to shimmy out of his pants.

I did the same. My shirt would stay on, but I wanted my diaper on full display. I’d not gone for anything elaborate–just a plain white diaper with hook-and-loop tabs and a wetness indicator strips that’d shift from blue to pink upon use.

Darren smirked at my diaper as he finished undressing. To quash any more smart comments, I strode forward, grabbed him by the ear, and pulled him down, sitting on the bed and pulling him onto my lap. His belly was over my legs and diaper, and I could feel his own erection rubbing on my leg–good to know we were both having fun.

I rubbed my hand against his bare bottom, the cheeks that’d soon be bright pink. “Do you have anything you want to say for yourself?”

He glanced back at me, and I knew just from the mischievous look in his eyes that he had a smart comment ready. “You’re a ba–”

Smack!

I brought my hand down on his butt, interrupting his comment–which wasn’t so smart after all–with a sharp, brutal slap.

I slowed down after that. Gentle pats, and warmup blows that would only hurt a little and leave little tenderness in their wake. I wanted to ease him into the punishment that was to follow.

“Never forget,” I warned, pinning his body down with my right arm. “No matter what I do, you’re still smaller than me. I can do whatever I want to you.”

“You can’t even use the toil–”

Smack!

This time, after the initial slap that left a red handprint and made his whole body shift up, I didn’t relent.

Every blow brought out a little whimper, a little helpless sound of pain. I watched to ensure he was taking deep breaths, sucking in air and holding himself through the punishment as I rained down merciless slaps. His skin was a canvas, and I intended to paint it a tender, warm pink.

As I slowed down the pace and increased the intensity, he reached out, snatching one of my pillows off the bed. He pressed his face into it, clutching the pillow with both arms, body straining. He didn’t notice the paddle I’d stashed beneath the pillow, with a little heart-shaped hole punched through the wooden body.

I hesitated, and let the blows subside for a moment, rubbing my fingers over the hot, sensitive skin. “Shh,” I said. “Breathe. You’re doing good. Safe word?”

He mumbled something into the pillow, something I couldn’t quite make out, though it sounded vaguely green-ish.

“Speak up,” I instructed.

Lifting his head, Darren said, “Green. I’m not bothered by a spanking from a little baaaaby–”

WHACK!

I raised the paddle I’d just snatched up, preparing it for another blow.

“Clearly you’re not getting it,” I declared. “Let’s try again, okay?”

His head shimmied in a little half-nod, and he braced himself.

I couldn’t quite fulfill his request to show no mercy–I thrilled to watch him squirm and beg, but I knew his limits and didn’t want to push past them. Still, that gave me plenty of leeway to come very, very close.

With each WHACK of the paddle, the air whooshed, and it left a distinct heart-shaped mark on his cheeks, red skin outlining a merely pink heart. I peppered him with hearts until his backside resembled a valentine, then, finally, set down the paddle.

“Breathe,” I instructed again. “I’m going to hit you four more times. You’re going to count them. Okay?”

He nodded.

I reached for my other pillow, and produced a whip-thin wooden cane.

Swish–

The sound was less impressive, but the gasp of pain that escaped his throat was music. “One!” he cried out.

Swish–

“Two!”

Swish–

“Three!”

I raised my arm, and held it there for a moment of anticipation. He tensed when he thought the last blow would come, but I brought the cane down a second later, throwing off his rhythm with one final blow.

SWISH–

“Fuck! Four!” he called out, going limp over my lap.

I let him breathe, and pulled him up, so that he sat next to me.

“Are you okay?” I asked, under my breath, reaching around to gently rub his tender cheeks.

He nodded.

“Sass me,” I warned, “And I’ll do that all over again.”

He nodded again, breathing deeply.

“I mean it,” I said. “No more teasing. No more ‘Baby’. Understood?”

“Mhmm,” he whimpered.

“Good.” Now, it was time to test his resolve.

Reaching out, I took his hand, moving it to the front of my diaper. We were both equally turned on at this point, which proved a nuisance for me, as I had to concentrate to release my bladder.

With his hand on my diaper, he could feel the front of the padding grow suddenly warm and damp, hot pee flooding down the front and staining the wetness indicator strip pink.

His eyes widened, and I saw the impulse in his eyes. The immediate reflex urge to tease me, to provoke more punishment. With my other hand, I squeezed gently on his bright red, tender bottom, and he fell in line in an instant.

“The difference,” I said, leaning forward as I flooded my diaper, “Between you and me is this: I wear diapers because I chose to. You wear diapers because you have to.”

He frowned. “But I don’t…”Seeing the glee dance in my eyes, he whimpered and nodded. “O-oh.”

I pushed him down to the bed, guiding him gently so that his head rested on the pillow he hadn’t appropriated for use as a stuffy and he looked up at me, eyes huge and helpless. The spanking had dragged him down into a deep subspace, so that I could do anything I wanted to him–though I would only use this power for what we’d already agreed upon.

With, perhaps, a surprise to taste.

Spreading his legs, I sat between his knees, sitting up and forward. Rather than go get a clean diaper, I removed my own sodden article, removing each tape one at a time. “You don’t need a fresh, clean diaper,” I teased. “You can just have the ones I’m done with. It’s not like you’d be allowed to keep them dry, anyways.”

He whimpered, pulling my pillow closer to his chest as I slid the sodden diaper beneath him and wrapped it up between his legs. The hook-loop tapes were as secure the second time as they’d been the first, and in moments he was sealed away in my soaked diaper.

I stood, moving over to the side of the bed so I could retrieve another diaper from my night stand. “You’re my little play thing,” I said. “You can’t have it in your head that you’re bigger than me, that you can tease me without recourse. I can only imagine how you’re feeling now, with your stingy little bottom in your hot, soggy diaper. Are you sore?”

He nodded. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

That hadn’t been discussed, but I grinned anyways. I liked it. As I pulled the diaper up between my legs, I said, “Good. That’ll help you remember. And to be clear–anything I do in my diapers, you have to do too, so you don’t end up feeling too big. For you, it’s not an option.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“You’re sure you understand?” I asked, smoothing out my own tapes.

“Uh-huh.”

This was it. The moment I’d been sure he’d balk at, and the moment he’d agreed to anyways. I was almost too nervous to try, but it was my fantasy.

Facing him, leaning forward slightly as I knelt on the bed, I watched his helpless expression as I began to push.

The seat of my padding swelled, slightly, and though it probably didn’t have a lot of visual impact, to me it felt as though I’d begun pouring a whole mud bath down my diaper. It smushed and spread, and the smell quickly wafted through the room.

I sat back, relishing the feel of it mushing beneath my weight, and grinned at him. My little plaything. “Well?” I asked. “Are you going to be good?”

He pulled the pillow closer to his chest and started to sit up. A bit of fight was left in him after all–fortunately, I had the solution.

Sitting back up on my knees so that I was mostly upright, I leaned forward and grabbed him by the hair. Halfway upright, he made it easy for me, and I pulled him forward until his face was pressed into my diaper.

“Be good,” I warned, “Or I’ll tie you up and sit on you like this.”

Nodding, his nose making the front of my diaper crinkle, my plaything obeyed.

His soft grunts of submissive humiliation were ecstasy. Music and thrill and power, as he filled up his diaper to match mine, loading it up with stinky muck so that it was no longer distinguishable whether we were smelling me or him.

I let him pull away and pushed him back onto the bed. “Good,” I purred, moving to mount him. “Just a helpless little thing–no more fight, no more sass, just obedience. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled.

“Couldn’t even help it, could you?” I asked, scooting down, so that my diaper sat atop his. I could feel his erection through the diaper, and he could feel mine. “It wasn’t your choice.”

“Mmhm!” This time, his voice came out as a squeak.

I began to rock forward and back. The contents of my diaper smushed in an intensely satisfying way, and through our diapers, our cocks were both pressed into padding–his was sodden, and mine was dry save for the precum dribbling out of me, but we both groaned in pleasure.

Despite fantasies of stamina and endurance, neither of us lasted long.

There was one more thing that, when I did it in my diaper, he did it to.

I collapsed next to him, pulling him close to me. We both stank, and I loved it more than I could put into words.

“How are you feeling?” I whispered.

“Buh…” he mumbled. By his expression, his mind was floating in the clouds, so deeply submissive that he could barely form words–save for a few. “I love you.”

I kissed him on the forehead, and pulled him close, both of us sweaty and stinky and ready for a nap. “I love you too.”