![]() ![]() But I bent to pick it up, at the knees, not at the waist, just as I'd learned is done in a short skirt, and right then, nature's demands could no longer be resisted. She dropped something, a fork or a napkin. What subtle, devilish punishment! Sure, I was having fun, enormous fun, but I wanted to touch, to taste, to play, and I wanted not to have to think about keeping myself clenched tight! Incredible torture! I probably assembled sandwiches from deli sliced meats, cheese, and bread, and filled their glasses with tea or lemonade, but the distractions or front and back pressure and glossy beauty are all I remember. To this day, I have no idea what I served them. ![]() "Lunch is on the counter," she said as she sat at the table with them. They'd seen me like this once or twice before, but that didn't stop the blush from intensifying, and it certainly did nothing to suppress my other natural physical reactions to all this shiny loveliness before me. Their outfits gleamed as they grinned at me. We entered the kitchen, and then I realized what I'd been wondering: how'd she get the dress polished so well? The answer practically preceded the question, because seated at the table were two of her best friends from our kink group, one in a white vinyl catsuit and the other in a transparent latex dress. ![]() serve lunch," and I followed, her obedient maid. Something bothered me, but I was far too busy with all the sensations assaulting me to thing about it much. She spun slowly before me, and as the light played over her gorgeous rear, my hard-on tried desperately again to assert itself in its padded prison and I moaned once more. Her dress shone, high-necked long-sleeved short-skirted black latex. I needed that hope, because already I wanted to fill my diaper with my bananas so badly: I didn't know how much longer I could hold out.Īt least she was a lovely distraction, I had to admit. Both my fetish girly clothes and my blushing turned her on so much, and I found hope that maybe this punishment would end nicely, and soon. I felt silly, but I knew from plenty of experience that she liked seeing me like this. The skirt could hardly help puffing out over the triple diaper and locking pants. My pink plastic maid's dress enclosed my body, sleeves and skirt puffing out from the sleek slick torso. ![]() She closed the back zipper, and fussed about my waist for a moment, then I felt her hands on my blindfold. "Arms up," and more soft plastic slipped down my raised arms and body. I felt her tug at me, and a pinch at my waist, followed by the click of a small lock, and knew I was going to be in these diapers for a while. I then recognized the soft and slick coolness of a pair of plastic pants being worked down my legs, and I raised my butt one more time. I could barely feel her teasing hand on me now assuming I would be standing up at some point, walking was going to be a little awkward. "We'd best make sure nothing gets through - you look like you might have eruptions both front and back if we're not careful!" And with that, she taped a second diaper tightly around my waist, and then a third. She laughed and stroked me briefly through the rustling softness. And damned if my dick wasn't betraying me already by getting in her way, hard and trying to reach full attention under the padding. She taped the diaper tightly and firmly over my crotch: a thick, wide diaper of the kind especially sold for fetish players. After a swishing sound, she had me relax again, and my rear landed on the soft interior padding of a disposable diaper, and I knew exactly how I'd be humiliating myself when I was finally allowed to release the bananas. I heard plastic crackle, and she gently lifted my buttocks from the table with a palm. "Now, then, we'll get you dressed," she lilted. To do so without specific orders would lead to even worse repercussions. I felt stuffed, bloated, and my body had already started suggesting I open up and release the obstruction. "Just for that." and a fourth banana made its way, somehow, into me. A third followed, and I moaned, feeling the mass packed within. She slid the second lubed fruit in, and I began to feel full. She got it all the way inside of me, and I felt it settle in my rectum then the tip of another poked me. "It'll only make this procedure more difficult if we have to do it in pieces." I realized then what invaded me: a peeled, slightly under-ripe banana. I felt the tip of something cool touch me and begin sliding inside: something long, cylindrical, and slightly textured. She spread my knees apart and gently began lubing my rear passage. For some infractions, that would have been penance enough, but I know this one would be far more complex. What matters is that I lay on my back on a padded table, naked, blindfolded, and slightly shaky from the thorough enema she'd just given me. It doesn't matter now what I did, or why. ![]()
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