BabyWeirdo
07-27-2016, 02:25 PM
My marshmallow adventure...
I started in a coffee shop, bored by maths revision. Studying for these summer exams is very dull and it was a pleasant surprise when He messaged me. He asked me if I was wearing a diaper.
Sadly I wasn't. He told me to go into the bathroom and take off everything that was a diaper. And so I went in, locking the door, and began to strip. Off came my shoes, my socks, my shorts, my hoodie, my t-shirt and then... I pulled down and kicked off my boxers. I took the photos as asked and waited, naked and exposed, for a reply.
He told me to get down on all fours; still naked I got down onto the smelly, piss-stained floor. I placed a sock in my mouth as asked - it was disgusting and sweaty, having been worn on the hottest day of the year so far.
Eventually He became satisfied with my pictures and allowed me to dress. There was just one condition: I couldn't put any underwear back on, no underwear and no socks. My baggy shorts, regretting my decision not to wear a belt.
I finished up my paper and asked for more instructions - He returned with commands to buy marshmallows. I went into the food-store opposite and bought a packet of the biggest marshmallows I could find - each one almost the size of a tennis ball. I found a quiet corner outside and, as asked, put them in my shoes.
As I pressed my foot into it shoe it squidged like a mushy dough, sticking to my bare feet. I quickly (and awkwardly) began the walk home - even without underwear He told me not to keep my hands in my pocket to keep my shorts up. I could feel them sliding down. Cars passed... pretty I could be humiliatingly exposed...
Then the next order came. 'Take my top off'. I snuck behind a scout hut, and pulled off my jumper. My t-shirt came off - and I sent a shirt-less photo. My jacket back on (and my top shoved in my bag) I hurried home. The marshmallows were squishing around my toes - and I had a nasty suspicion of what I'd end up doing with them.
I arrived home and went straight to my laptop, opening up Skype and going on cam. He told me to take the marshmallows out my shoes. With sticky fingers, I did. He told me to keep my hands behind my back. I put them there. He told me to eat them.
This was going to be gross, very gross. I froze, dreading the sticky marshmallows that had been melting underneath my sweating feet in my battered stinky shoes. I asked if I could put it off - I was told I had to do it now. And so I did.
I bent down and began to eat. It was horrible - disgusting - salty - sweet - sweaty - sticky - and very, very gross. I finished one. And dived into the second - the sickly-sticky mush sticking to my cheeks and nose. Eventually I was finished. Sadly He then had to go, and this piggy's marshmallow adventure was over.
I started in a coffee shop, bored by maths revision. Studying for these summer exams is very dull and it was a pleasant surprise when He messaged me. He asked me if I was wearing a diaper.
Sadly I wasn't. He told me to go into the bathroom and take off everything that was a diaper. And so I went in, locking the door, and began to strip. Off came my shoes, my socks, my shorts, my hoodie, my t-shirt and then... I pulled down and kicked off my boxers. I took the photos as asked and waited, naked and exposed, for a reply.
He told me to get down on all fours; still naked I got down onto the smelly, piss-stained floor. I placed a sock in my mouth as asked - it was disgusting and sweaty, having been worn on the hottest day of the year so far.
Eventually He became satisfied with my pictures and allowed me to dress. There was just one condition: I couldn't put any underwear back on, no underwear and no socks. My baggy shorts, regretting my decision not to wear a belt.
I finished up my paper and asked for more instructions - He returned with commands to buy marshmallows. I went into the food-store opposite and bought a packet of the biggest marshmallows I could find - each one almost the size of a tennis ball. I found a quiet corner outside and, as asked, put them in my shoes.
As I pressed my foot into it shoe it squidged like a mushy dough, sticking to my bare feet. I quickly (and awkwardly) began the walk home - even without underwear He told me not to keep my hands in my pocket to keep my shorts up. I could feel them sliding down. Cars passed... pretty I could be humiliatingly exposed...
Then the next order came. 'Take my top off'. I snuck behind a scout hut, and pulled off my jumper. My t-shirt came off - and I sent a shirt-less photo. My jacket back on (and my top shoved in my bag) I hurried home. The marshmallows were squishing around my toes - and I had a nasty suspicion of what I'd end up doing with them.
I arrived home and went straight to my laptop, opening up Skype and going on cam. He told me to take the marshmallows out my shoes. With sticky fingers, I did. He told me to keep my hands behind my back. I put them there. He told me to eat them.
This was going to be gross, very gross. I froze, dreading the sticky marshmallows that had been melting underneath my sweating feet in my battered stinky shoes. I asked if I could put it off - I was told I had to do it now. And so I did.
I bent down and began to eat. It was horrible - disgusting - salty - sweet - sweaty - sticky - and very, very gross. I finished one. And dived into the second - the sickly-sticky mush sticking to my cheeks and nose. Eventually I was finished. Sadly He then had to go, and this piggy's marshmallow adventure was over.