Freshly showed Ryan is a contrast to the disgusting pig he sees before him. He can’t resist placing his foot on the back of Paul’s head and pushing him down harder into the last bits of wet slimy filth still floating in his piss. Paul finally stops moving laying there defeated, breathing hard. Ryan removes his foot and Paul takes that as permission to get up, panting and sobbing gently, he kneels hoping that this is over. But, Ryan has further plans for Paul’s debasement today. If he’s going to have a shitty day, he’s going to make Paul’s is much shitter; because he can, because he likes doing it, because he’s fucking twisted.
Paul manages to get a grip on himself and he starts grovelling to Ryan, “Thank you Master for punishing me as I deserve, for allowing me to eat your superior shit, Master.” Ryan snorts, “you are a fucking freak. Have you finished that pipe as well?” “Yes Master, thank you for my pipe punishment too.” He’s desperate to appease Ryan, he’s been debased as never before, and hopes Ryan will be satisfied and allow him to take a shower before he goes to his home office to start work. But he’s out of luck. Ryan still has a day of torment planned for Paul.
Casually surveying Paul’s shit covered face he cocks his head, “did you finish the pipe too?” “Yes Master,” Paul still holds the still warm pipe. “Empty the ash into your hand, show me”. Paul does so, tapping out a neat ring of light grey ash and inch round into his palm. “Ryan smirks, “Eat it.”
The whimper that comes from Paul is involuntary, it’s not so much the act, it’s less vile than what he’s just done, it’s the fact that even eating a couple of pounds of shit is not enough. Defeated he brings his hand to his mouth and laps the ash up with his shit coated tongue. He can feel the gritty texture. He works it round his mouth and swallows it.
Ryan lets him stand watching him he can see Paul’s belly is distended with the huge quantity of shit he’s just fed on. He runs his finger over the taught mass where normally there is a neat line of muscles. “I guess that’s gonna run through you pretty quick today isn’t it Pig? You’ll be wasting a lot of time on the toilet today.” Paul, mute, lost in self-recrimination, nods his agreement. Annoyingly cheerful Ryan goes on, “Can’t have that Piggy, you have work to do”.
Ryan, leaving Paul contemplating his pathetic state in the mirror, goes to a cupboard beside the toilet and drags out a large package. It’s already open, one item used. Used to humiliate Paul on an occasion when Ryan randomly decided he wasn’t fit to use a toilet like men do. So, he had diapered him for a morning for the sheer pleasure of watching Paul piss and shit himself and wear it for the next few hours. He had loved stripping away a little more of Paul’s self-respect. He pulls out two of the large diapers and a pair of clear plastic over pants waving them at Paul with a grin, “but we have an answer to that don’t we Piggy?” Paul stands trying to absorb the fact that this nightmare is far from over.
Something Ryan had noticed on the first occasion he’d diapered Paul was that diapers are too good at soaking up the mess. He’d watched Paul remove it and seen how well it soaked up the shit he’d wanted him sat in. That wasn’t going to happen today. He spreads one diaper out and stabs a few small holes in the plastic liner with a nail clipper. Then, as Paul watches, confused, Ryan shakes out a second diaper spreading it on the floor plastic side down. He lays the first over it, plastic side up. He directs Paul to sit on the diaper and lay back as he reaches for a roll of tape in the cupboard.
For the first time Paul resists, “Please Ryan, Please Sir don’t make me do this, please.” Ryan simply reaches out and grabs him by the balls, “easy way or hard way cunt the diaper goes on.” Paul obediently surrenders and lays in position. He is the wimp Ryan says he is.
Ryan tapes the first diaper in place. As Paul squirms, feeling the cool plastic liner tightly wrapping his arse and bollocks. Ryan pulls the second diaper up and seals it tight with the tabs at the sides. He hands Paul the plastic over pants, “put ‘em on cunt, even double diapered, you’ll fucking need them when that lots goes through you.”
Sullenly Paul steps into the clear plastic pants and works them with difficulty over the bulky double diaper. The elastic leg holes and waist band sealing him in. With pleading eyes, he looks at Ryan who just shrugs, “Do you have Teams Meetings today, Pig?” Paul nods. “Then you can wash your face and put a shirt on. The diaper stays on until I say so. Too bad I won’t be here to see you fucking fill it first hand, but when that lot fires out of your faggot shit chute you are to record it and WhatsApp me with the evidence. Make it a good show cunt.” He laughs as he looks at the sorry almost broken man stood before him, his face covered in shit, a ridiculously huge diaper wrapped round his middle. On impulse he orders Paul to open his mouth and as he does Ryan gleefully gobs into the shitty hole, before he turns and leaves for his own shitty day.
Paul slowly turns and looks at himself in the mirror again, he feels so bloated and is painfully aware he’s not had a piss yet. It actually hurts but he knows that if he does piss, he will be wearing it. In his head his inner voice mocks him, ‘look at yourself, you brought this on yourself for being so weak. Get on with it Pig Boi, go on punish yourself a bit more’. And with a little sob he lets go, staring at the front of the massive diaper as he hears the piss start to drum against the reversed diaper’s plastic liner.
Paul just stares at himself, defeated and humiliated in the worse way yet. He can feel the warm piss now soaking his balls, running between his legs and flooding the diaper. It baths his balls and taint. Suddenly he understands why Ryan stabbed small holes in the inner diaper’s liner. Some of the piss is soaking through into the padding now making the diaper fatter but at least it won’t leak - yet. Finally, he waddles to the sink to clean up his face and clean his teeth. Swilling profusely with mouth wash he wonders why he’s bothering when his belly is full of two loads of shit. He cleans up the bathroom before pulling on a shirt and heading to his home office to start a normal day’s work as a well-respected accountant!
Ryan drives into work, despite the fun he’s had abusing Paul this morning he’s now focused on his meetings. They will not go well, as a project manager he’s fucked up. The software development is behind schedule and the client wants to know why. His boss is seriously pissed off and wants to know how Ryan is going to rescue the situation. He has to placate both parties this morning or he may be looking for another job. The fact that the problem is because he’s taken his eye off the ball adds to his frustration. Abusing and humiliating Paul harder than ever before is his favourite vent for that pent up frustration.
As Ryan walks into the meeting, with his apologies and a rescue strategy ready to deliver, Paul is trying to settle his diaper clad backside into his chair. He has to adjust his seat height to allow for the huge bulk clamped around his waist. Still bloated he’d forced himself to eat a slice of toast and rations his fluid intake aware that what goes in will come out. The diaper crinkles as he moves, he hopes it won’t be audible in his Teams meeting. He emits a long burp, cringing at the concentrated taste of shit. With effort he focuses on his work.
Two hours later Ryan thanks his clients for their understanding, grovels a little more as they leave the room. His boss remains seated. As Ryan closes the door he speaks, “well done, you managed to rescue the situation quite well. But it still remains that you put us in this situation in the first place, meet me in meeting room 405 at 3pm.” And leaving Ryan to stew over his fate, he too leaves. Ryan flops into a chair and flips open his laptop and immerses himself in the backlog of emails.
As Ryan readies himself for his meeting with the boss, back at home, Paul feels his guts churn and a pressing need to shit. He squirms, clenching is arse. He’s in no hurry to shit knowing he’ll be wearing it for hours. After 30 minutes of fidgeting, he knows he’s going to lose the battle soon. He had best prepare for the inevitable and to ‘make it a good show’ so he doesn’t piss Ryan off. Finding one of his pipes he packs it with the least horrible of the tobaccos thinking ‘Ryan can’t fucking tell which one I’m smoking’. He waddles into the bathroom propping his phone up against the wall on the floor before sitting, legs apart.
With the phone set to video selfie mode Paul can see himself sat, swaddled in a huge damp diaper, sealed in a pair of plastic pants. He knows he looks pathetic and should just man up and put a stop to this. But he won’t, perhaps he does really want it. A fart slips out and echos in the confines of the diaper. Feeling the pressure build in his guts he presses the record button and grabs the large, smooth, bent pipe slips it into his mouth and flicks the lighter into life – show time.
