Brought Down

bringmethediapers · 08-11-2019, 08:02 AM

This story will contain humiliation, blackmail, non-consensual stuff, homophobic terms and diapers. Just a warning to anyone who might not be into that stuff.

-------------

A hand grabbed my shoulder as I finished typing the ad. The words ‘looking for a daddy’ stood out on my screen. I smashed the lock key and whirled around.

The hand belonged to a boy who had just started working with us. An apprentice; only nineteen years old. There was a whiff of soap radiating from him. He grinned.

‘I’m watching you,’ he said.

My heart stopped. ‘What?’

‘I’ve to shadow you,’ he said, eyes glowing. ‘Boss said you could teach me a lot.’

‘Oh, right. Yes, that’s fine. Sit down. What’s your name?’

‘Eli.’

He grabbed a chair and pulled it. It rolled over the floor and crashed into the side of mine. Eli cocked his head and eyed me. ‘Oops. My bad.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, sliding over a little. ‘No problem.’

~ ~ ~

My phone lit up. The fourteenth message of the evening. Another guy replying to my ad, probably, who will just want to see my ass and then move on. I opened the notification.

‘Hey, fag,’ it read. ‘Saw your little ad. I don’t normally respond to those but I’m pretty fucking bored.’

I sighed and typed a reply. ‘Cool. What age are you?’

‘I’m 26. A year older than you, but infinitely superior. Don’t fucking ‘cool’ me.’

I sat up in bed. Something stirred in my underwear. He actually cared how I spoke to him. No requests for my ass yet, either. Promising.

‘Sorry, sir,’ I said. ‘It’s just that most people who message me don’t really give a shit. They just want to see my cock or something and move on.’

‘I don’t care what other people do. And I don’t want to see your disgusting little dick, either.’

‘You don’t?’

‘I’m not a homo. I don’t care what you look like. I care what I can make you do.’

A pulse of electricity ran through me. A straight guy? Dominated by a straight guy? That never happened. This was… it was hot.

‘What’s your name, sir?’

‘My name? To you, fag, it’s Master. I need to go, but you keep your phone on. I’ll be in touch.’

~ ~ ~

The evening inched by. I watched a documentary, but couldn’t remember anything about it when the credits rolled. I must have checked my phone a hundred times; a pointless exercise because my notifications were turned on, but I was hungry for attention. Thirty minutes before bedtime I decided I couldn’t wait any longer, and typed a message to him.

‘Hey, sir. Are you available?’

He read the message ten seconds later, and my heart sank. So he’d been around the whole time but hadn’t said anything. Was he bored with me already? I couldn’t let that happen. Something ate at me; told me this guy was special.

‘Not really, fag. I changed my mind. Not interested.’

My fingers exploded into action. ‘No, wait. Please. Give me a chance.’

‘No. Like I said, I don’t do this. I was just bored and now I’m not. So fuck off.’

‘Sir… please. Isn’t there anything I can do? Please.’

I stared at the screen, checked the message info, but he hadn’t even read it. Blocked, then. I threw my phone across the bed. Never before had anyone managed to intrigue me so much. I usually got bored right away. But Master extended his palm and I ate right out of it. Stupid and pathetic. Now I felt like I’d lost something.

~ ~ ~

Buzzing woke me. I grabbed my phone. The clock said 3 am. A single notification sat on-screen. I opened it, and my heart raced.

‘Go outside.’

Those two words smashed the sleep out of me. Outside? What could he want me to do outside? I wasn’t an exhibitionist. I didn’t do public stuff. But… shit, I wanted him. Would he stay if I questioned his order? Should I just obey?

I scrambled out of bed and threw on some pyjamas.

‘I’m going, sir, but I need to go to the bathroom first.’

The reply came through immediately. ‘Did I say you could go to the bathroom, faggot? Get the fuck outside.’

‘Yes sir.’

I was assaulted by chills when I walked outside but didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer to get a jacket. I could hear a distant shuffling of feet on the street by my front-gate, but my door couldn’t be seen from there. You’d have to come into my garden to see through to my door.

‘I’m outside, sir.’

‘Good. You want me, yes? You want to serve a hot, straight alpha, right?’

‘Yes, sir. Please, yes.’

‘Beg me, then.’

‘Please, sir. Please let me serve you. I’ve been waiting so long for this. You’re everything I want. Please.’

I could almost hear him laughing. ‘You really, reeeeeeeally want it, fag?’

‘Yes!’

‘Then pull down your trousers, right now, and piss your pants. Rub your little dick through the wet fabric. Send me a video, with flash.’

My eyes narrowed. He wanted me to piss myself? I’d never done that, before. I knew some people were into it but it wasn’t really for me. I just wanted a dom to make me do the normal stuff like finger myself and wank. But then I thought about it. He was straight, right? So obviously he wouldn’t want to see that stuff. So what could he really make me do that I would enjoy?

I deflated. The hottest aspect of all this - his heterosexuality - would turn out to be what ruined it. I wanted to be a slut. Why would a straight guy want a male slut? Fuck.

Another message came through. ‘Hurry up, little faggot.’

My cock twitched. The way he spoke to me was really hot. Maybe I was overreacting. I could just do what he asked and then see where it goes. If it really wasn’t for me, no big deal. It’s not like anyone could identify me from a video of my pants anyway.

‘Yes, sir,’ I said.

I whispered a ‘thank you’ to God for the privacy of my garden and then pressed the record button. My crotch bloomed with silvery light. With one hand, my trousers slid down. I rubbed my crotch. Here goes.

The piss exploded from my cock and sprayed out between my fingers. It felt almost erotic as it came as if I had been desperate for it. I moaned. Warm fingers of liquid streamed down my leg. I spread them wider.

At length, the stream died, and I stopped the recording. The piss rapidly cooled in the night air, and I was left standing there with wet legs, wet pants and wet hands. A wave of shame washed over me. What the hell was I doing?

My phone beeped again. ‘Good work, fag. Hahahaha.’

I froze. ‘What do you mean? I haven’t even sent the video yet.’ I said.

‘Oh, you don’t have to,’ came the reply, followed by another message. A video message.

All my hairs stood on end as I hit the play button. Almost whimpering, I watched myself. Some pervert was on screen; some freak, rubbing himself and pissing his pants. But that couldn’t be me, right? How could it be me? No-one knew I was out here. This wasn’t planned.

As the fear burned through me I realised the perspective of the scene. It was recorded from my front garden. My head snapped up. I peered out but there was nothing. No-one. Only the stillness and the silence.

I bashed the touchscreen on my phone. Sweat ran down my back to mingle with the urine soaking my underwear. ‘How? Why?’

‘Oh, you’ll find out fag. All in good time. Now off to bed with you, pissy pants. You’ve got work tomorrow.’

I sent a reply. I begged him to delete the video; begged him not to do whatever he was planning to do. But he said nothing. The message remained on delivered. He didn’t give a shit. This was no game.

I locked my phone and slid down to the ground. My whole body shook. Beneath me, the now cold piss soaked my boxers all over again.

In the distance, I imagined I could hear the sound of someone whistling a tune as they walked off down the street.

08-11-2019, 08:02 AM	#1
bringmethediapers Junior Member Join Date: May 2012 Posts: 27	Brought Down This story will contain humiliation, blackmail, non-consensual stuff, homophobic terms and diapers. Just a warning to anyone who might not be into that stuff. ------------- A hand grabbed my shoulder as I finished typing the ad. The words ‘looking for a daddy’ stood out on my screen. I smashed the lock key and whirled around. The hand belonged to a boy who had just started working with us. An apprentice; only nineteen years old. There was a whiff of soap radiating from him. He grinned. ‘I’m watching you,’ he said. My heart stopped. ‘What?’ ‘I’ve to shadow you,’ he said, eyes glowing. ‘Boss said you could teach me a lot.’ ‘Oh, right. Yes, that’s fine. Sit down. What’s your name?’ ‘Eli.’ He grabbed a chair and pulled it. It rolled over the floor and crashed into the side of mine. Eli cocked his head and eyed me. ‘Oops. My bad.’ ‘Yeah,’ I said, sliding over a little. ‘No problem.’ ~ ~ ~ My phone lit up. The fourteenth message of the evening. Another guy replying to my ad, probably, who will just want to see my ass and then move on. I opened the notification. ‘Hey, fag,’ it read. ‘Saw your little ad. I don’t normally respond to those but I’m pretty fucking bored.’ I sighed and typed a reply. ‘Cool. What age are you?’ ‘I’m 26. A year older than you, but infinitely superior. Don’t fucking ‘cool’ me.’ I sat up in bed. Something stirred in my underwear. He actually cared how I spoke to him. No requests for my ass yet, either. Promising. ‘Sorry, sir,’ I said. ‘It’s just that most people who message me don’t really give a shit. They just want to see my cock or something and move on.’ ‘I don’t care what other people do. And I don’t want to see your disgusting little dick, either.’ ‘You don’t?’ ‘I’m not a homo. I don’t care what you look like. I care what I can make you do.’ A pulse of electricity ran through me. A straight guy? Dominated by a straight guy? That never happened. This was… it was hot. ‘What’s your name, sir?’ ‘My name? To you, fag, it’s Master. I need to go, but you keep your phone on. I’ll be in touch.’ ~ ~ ~ The evening inched by. I watched a documentary, but couldn’t remember anything about it when the credits rolled. I must have checked my phone a hundred times; a pointless exercise because my notifications were turned on, but I was hungry for attention. Thirty minutes before bedtime I decided I couldn’t wait any longer, and typed a message to him. ‘Hey, sir. Are you available?’ He read the message ten seconds later, and my heart sank. So he’d been around the whole time but hadn’t said anything. Was he bored with me already? I couldn’t let that happen. Something ate at me; told me this guy was special. ‘Not really, fag. I changed my mind. Not interested.’ My fingers exploded into action. ‘No, wait. Please. Give me a chance.’ ‘No. Like I said, I don’t do this. I was just bored and now I’m not. So fuck off.’ ‘Sir… please. Isn’t there anything I can do? Please.’ I stared at the screen, checked the message info, but he hadn’t even read it. Blocked, then. I threw my phone across the bed. Never before had anyone managed to intrigue me so much. I usually got bored right away. But Master extended his palm and I ate right out of it. Stupid and pathetic. Now I felt like I’d lost something. ~ ~ ~ Buzzing woke me. I grabbed my phone. The clock said 3 am. A single notification sat on-screen. I opened it, and my heart raced. ‘Go outside.’ Those two words smashed the sleep out of me. Outside? What could he want me to do outside? I wasn’t an exhibitionist. I didn’t do public stuff. But… shit, I wanted him. Would he stay if I questioned his order? Should I just obey? I scrambled out of bed and threw on some pyjamas. ‘I’m going, sir, but I need to go to the bathroom first.’ The reply came through immediately. ‘Did I say you could go to the bathroom, faggot? Get the fuck outside.’ ‘Yes sir.’ I was assaulted by chills when I walked outside but didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer to get a jacket. I could hear a distant shuffling of feet on the street by my front-gate, but my door couldn’t be seen from there. You’d have to come into my garden to see through to my door. ‘I’m outside, sir.’ ‘Good. You want me, yes? You want to serve a hot, straight alpha, right?’ ‘Yes, sir. Please, yes.’ ‘Beg me, then.’ ‘Please, sir. Please let me serve you. I’ve been waiting so long for this. You’re everything I want. Please.’ I could almost hear him laughing. ‘You really, reeeeeeeally want it, fag?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Then pull down your trousers, right now, and piss your pants. Rub your little dick through the wet fabric. Send me a video, with flash.’ My eyes narrowed. He wanted me to piss myself? I’d never done that, before. I knew some people were into it but it wasn’t really for me. I just wanted a dom to make me do the normal stuff like finger myself and wank. But then I thought about it. He was straight, right? So obviously he wouldn’t want to see that stuff. So what could he really make me do that I would enjoy? I deflated. The hottest aspect of all this - his heterosexuality - would turn out to be what ruined it. I wanted to be a slut. Why would a straight guy want a male slut? Fuck. Another message came through. ‘Hurry up, little faggot.’ My cock twitched. The way he spoke to me was really hot. Maybe I was overreacting. I could just do what he asked and then see where it goes. If it really wasn’t for me, no big deal. It’s not like anyone could identify me from a video of my pants anyway. ‘Yes, sir,’ I said. I whispered a ‘thank you’ to God for the privacy of my garden and then pressed the record button. My crotch bloomed with silvery light. With one hand, my trousers slid down. I rubbed my crotch. Here goes. The piss exploded from my cock and sprayed out between my fingers. It felt almost erotic as it came as if I had been desperate for it. I moaned. Warm fingers of liquid streamed down my leg. I spread them wider. At length, the stream died, and I stopped the recording. The piss rapidly cooled in the night air, and I was left standing there with wet legs, wet pants and wet hands. A wave of shame washed over me. What the hell was I doing? My phone beeped again. ‘Good work, fag. Hahahaha.’ I froze. ‘What do you mean? I haven’t even sent the video yet.’ I said. ‘Oh, you don’t have to,’ came the reply, followed by another message. A video message. All my hairs stood on end as I hit the play button. Almost whimpering, I watched myself. Some pervert was on screen; some freak, rubbing himself and pissing his pants. But that couldn’t be me, right? How could it be me? No-one knew I was out here. This wasn’t planned. As the fear burned through me I realised the perspective of the scene. It was recorded from my front garden. My head snapped up. I peered out but there was nothing. No-one. Only the stillness and the silence. I bashed the touchscreen on my phone. Sweat ran down my back to mingle with the urine soaking my underwear. ‘How? Why?’ ‘Oh, you’ll find out fag. All in good time. Now off to bed with you, pissy pants. You’ve got work tomorrow.’ I sent a reply. I begged him to delete the video; begged him not to do whatever he was planning to do. But he said nothing. The message remained on delivered. He didn’t give a shit. This was no game. I locked my phone and slid down to the ground. My whole body shook. Beneath me, the now cold piss soaked my boxers all over again. In the distance, I imagined I could hear the sound of someone whistling a tune as they walked off down the street.