Kinkyberen - Kinkyberen

Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.

When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.

When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.

In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.

If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.

“Could I get a bag….?”

There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.

I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.

The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.

The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”

“There’s no bags?”

“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.

He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”

When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.

“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”

I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.

If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".

WARNING: DIAPER MESSING/PEEING, DIARRHEA, ALCHOL MENTIONED

Aaron woke to a wet feeling around his bottom for the second time that morning. The first time he had woken up, he had been too hungover to do anything about the fact that he was urinating. Going out for drinks the night before had been a bad idea for so many reasons, but mostly because his bladder simply could not handle that much alcohol.

Now, he groggily sat up in bed and pulled the wet sheets off himself. He didn’t have the energy to get mad at himself or the brand of diapers he was wearing for the huge wet stain that spread to the far reaches of his bed. He reached down to feel the waterlogged diaper that sat between his legs. It was soaked yellow and leaked a little when Aaron touched it. It was as if he had started peeing as soon as he fell asleep and hadn’t stopped until he had just woken up. And oh gosh, it smelled awful. He was lucky for the mattress cover, or he would have had to throw the whole thing away. Today was definitely laundry day.

Aaron removed his wet diaper and shirt and left them both on the bed. He walked naked to grab a trash bag, his hamper, and a new diaper. He knew he should shower first, but he wanted to rid the smell from the room asap, and he was unsure how long cleanup would take or if he was fully empty. Sure enough, as he dumped everything into the washing machine, he felt a trickle in his diaper. It wasn't nearly as much as before, but if he hadn't been wearing a diaper, he would have had to mop as well.

With everything in the wash, Aaron stretched and yawned as he made his way towards the shower. His diaper was wet again, so he smelled even more like urine than before. He barely got the bathroom door open when his alarm went off. He picked up his phone to silence it, then swore when he realized what it was for. It had been going off for 30 minutes to remind him that he had a Zoom class at 10. It was now 9:55. He rushed to his computer to log in before remembering that he was completely shirtless. He slipped into the first T-shirt he grabbed just as the class started.

This professor was, unfortunately, strict about having the camera on. She didn't care about being muted, but she wanted to make sure everyone was at the very least paying attention. The rule was that if you had to turn your camera off, it was only twice and for five minutes unless you had a good excuse. Aaron would have used one of his times to change when he realized the shirt he'd grabbed was an ABDL T-shirt with cute animals flying planes, but he didn't want to draw attention to it. Thank goodness it wasn't a more obvious one, but he made sure not to stand because this particular shirt doubled as a onesie. Halfway through the class, he felt something pressing against his bottom. He was glad he was muted because the gas that shot out of him just then was like a firecracker. He hadn't even eaten today, but the results of last night's disaster were finally making their way out of his colon. Aaron did his best not to make a face as he quickly switched off his camera. It was coming out, and he barely had time to stand up before something painfully snaked out of him. It stung as his bottom opened up to another solid mass of poop, warming the back of his diaper with another filthy release.

"Mr. Millards, I'm timing you," the professor said, referring to Aaron. But he could barely hear her over the sound of his diaper filling. It took three minutes before he felt like he was okay enough to stop, though he could tell he wasn't empty. It wasn't lost on him that he didn't have enough time to change, and he grimaced as he looked back at the bulging brown and yellow padding wrapped around his waist. He held his breath, carefully lowered his bottom into his seat, and cringed as he felt the hot oatmeal texture spread around his bottom. The smell was immediate and rancid. He wondered what the hell he ate last night and swore to avoid it the next time he was blackout drunk. He wiped away his sweat, prayed his diaper wouldn't leak during class, and returned to the Zoom session.

Aaron felt each minute of the rest of class drag on, each second making his stomach twitch. When it finally ended, he'd never turned his camera off so fast. His next class wasn't for another three hours, so he rushed to grab a new pair of clothes, deodorant, cologne, and opened up his ottoman to grab a fresh diap-

His face fell.

Aaron kept all of his diapers boxed up in an ottoman at the foot of his bed. He'd grabbed the last diaper from one of the boxes this morning, thinking the others were full. They were not.

He didn't know what to do. Aaron ordered all of his diapers online. Even with same-day shipping, they weren't getting here until tomorrow. His next class was in person; he didn't have time for that! His best bet was to head to the nearest store to buy some generic pull-ups, but there was still the problem of his full diaper. He'd worn diapers for so long now that going out in underwear wasn't an option. He could try to use the potty before he left, but with his stomach in turmoil, there was no telling if he'd still have an accident. His heart sank when he realized that not only was he going to have to go out in a filthy diaper, but he also needed to pee again.

The only outfit Aaron owned that was loose enough to hide his diaper bulge was a pair of loose joggers and an oversized T-shirt. They didn't really match, but more importantly, they were light-colored. There was no hiding it if he leaked. He checked himself in the mirror, hyper-focusing on his bottom. You really couldn't tell unless you were looking really hard...or if you smelled him. He tried his best to cover up the smell with cologne, but that almost seemed to make it worse. He was just going to have to not stand close to anyone.

He opted to walk to the store for obvious reasons. He couldn't focus on driving and not squishing his diaper. The walk to the store wasn't far, but it sure felt like it with every crinkling, squishy step he took. He hoped the sound of cars driving past would cover up the sound, and the nearby dumpsters could take the blame for any lingering smells. He couldn't stop thinking about how much his poop had spread around in his diaper. It was smushed into every crevice and felt like cold mud on his bottom. He knew his shirt was long enough to cover his bottom, but he felt like if his pants fell even a centimeter someone would catch sight of his toasted marshmallow bottom.

Aaron breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the store. Despite his anxiety,  no one had seemed to notice his predicament. Or if they did, no one had pointed it out. His mind began to calm as he walked the store aisles, and by the time he grabbed the pull-ups, he felt okay enough to change in the store bathroom, as long as it was empty. Maybe they had a family bathroom he could use? If that was the case, he figured he should grab some wipes. He blushed, thinking about how big of a mess he had made and how he couldn't wait to get clean.

As he walked out of the diaper aisle with his supplies, he felt his stomach drop. Instinctively, his hand reached back to cover his bottom, and a splortch echoed off the linoleum walls. He felt eyes on him, but he was too focused on holding back a flood, his body trembling as he strained. He had just let out a handful of mushy diarrhea into his diaper, and he could tell there was more to come. He stayed there until he felt safe enough to move, then carefully made his way to the checkout aisle. His tummy rumbled angrily and his bottom hurt from holding it in, but there was no way he could go right now. He approached the self-checkout and whined anxiously when he saw the line. It wasn't that long, but his stomach thought otherwise. People could hear it groan audibly, and he tried his best not to make eye contact with any of them. By the time it was his turn, he could feel the whole store staring at him, the anxiety making his situation worse. He tried to focus on scanning; he only had two items. He just had to scan them, pay, and then he could run to the bathroom and use his diaper in peace—

PHBLARTCH

It was so loud it caught Aaron off guard, and he was pushing out another load before he knew what was happening. He let out an involuntary grunt of pain and effort as muck poured from his bottom and joined his previous mess. His knees shook as he pooped, and he gripped the register to balance himself. His body took that as a signal to keep going, and his bottom let out another wave of diarrhea. Of course, it was too much for his diaper to handle, and he felt the explosion before he heard it. Liquid brown spilled out of the leg holes  of his diaper and ran down his legs, staining his light-colored pants. When he pooped again, everyone saw it bubble out of his diaper and travel down the sullied parts of the fabric. Aaron tried not to think of all the eyes on him as he painfully soiled his diaper for the second time that day. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, reminding him that he had a class in a bit.

He definitely wasn't going to make it.

Accepting my boyfriend is ABDL

I thought I’d write a little about how I have gone from my initial reaction to my boyfriend’s coming out as ABDL (adult baby, diaper lover), which was along these lines:

OK, you like a harmless, peculiar, thing. I find the thought of you indulging in it unappealing, and a bit of a turn off, but I am happy for you to indulge, as long as you are happy for me not to be involved. Never hide it from me, and never be ashamed.

To my current feelings, which are: 

I GET TO BE A LITTLE GIRL! I AM EXCITE! And hopefully that will go well and then I can be a caregiver to you as a little too! And then we can play TOGETHER as a pair of littles! And oh my gosh, it’d be great if I can go to his event soon with him.

How did this change happen? I’ve thought about it at length. The things that have really helped have been:

1. He explained at the start that it’s not entirely just sexual (in fact, I think he said it wasn’t really sexual at all - hah! I think that was a white lie, what I needed to hear at the time). He clearly explained to me how it’s about feeling safe, cosy, loved and being in a different frame of mind where the usual adult junk doesn’t matter. I know for some people it’s not sexual at all, and for others, it’s majorly sexy, but what he said made me comfortable at the time. He used the phrase ‘age play’ to describe his fetish, which I found easier to deal with than ‘diaper fetish’ or something. 

2. He made it clear I could ask ANY questions, WHENEVER I wanted, and made sure he answered them all sincerely, frankly, and as as clearly as he could. Some of them took a while to answer - like when I started to ask how it is sexy to him. This is because he hasn’t had to answer those questions before. If he was stuck on how to answer something, he told me so, and I patiently put it on the back-burner. I found his frankness, clarity of thought and ability to articulate some difficult stuff really attractive. He’s a good ‘un. 

3. He made it clear that I don’t have to do anything or get involved. It could entirely just be his thing, that he goes off to events to enjoy a few times a year, or in his alone time. This put me at ease - no pressure! That was great. 

4. When I started exploring the fetish, he expressed how super happy it made him (even if it was a bit surreal for him!). I checked out some sites, to see what sort of clothes he might wear, and when I felt brave enough, sent him a link to a romper that I thought he could get away with wearing as cute pajamas around the house, that wasn’t TOO babyish. He made it clear he was really touched that I was even curious. Positive reinforcement is a great motivator!

5. He explained to me that it isn’t related to some childhood trauma, and stressed that he had a brilliant childhood. He tackled that subject head on, and that put my mind at rest, and meant I wasn’t wondering about how to engage in such a delicate conversation. It’s not my business, of course, unless he chooses to make it as such, but I would hate to accidentally trigger some disturbing memories in chatting around ABDL stuff. I know this will vary a lot for other folk, and I have my own issues in that area, but it helped me to understand that it’s just how he is built. 

6. He made it clear it didn’t involve anyone else, aside from folk he plays with at events / meet ups, and the folk who change him. He doesn’t have what I’d now call a caregiver, and events don’t involve any sexy happenings with other people. 

7. When I expressed an interest in seeing sexy changing times, he hooked me right up with some videos. I’ve got a soft spot for porn where one partner is submissive and dominated in the most genteel way (massage videos?! Jeez, I can’t imagine just lying there in the buff, fully lit, in such an intense situation. I know, I’m such a weed :D ). This has replaced the slightly rougher stuff I was into when I was younger. After seeing a few bits on Tumblr, I realised that changing times might be considered gentle sub-dom. It was a bit less weird than I expected. In fact, the first video I chose to watch featured lockable mittens and I was over the moon to see such adorable fetish equipment. Now I’ve seen some that are downright hot. Lovely smut :)  

8. We talk about our fantasies. This isn’t always easy, and I think he still worries about me being grossed out by his interests, but the long and short of it is, my boyfriend wants me to wear some giant padded undies, cute clothes that I adore, and take me for a picnic. I may or may not find it super sexy, but that just sounds like a great afternoon! And I wouldn’t have to pee in the bushes in the park ;). I know that if I wanted to try something different, he’d be happy to hear me out and give it some serious thought. 

9. Finally, and most importantly, I think, is he has both a sense of scale and a sense of humour about his ABDL desires. For instance, when I told him I was curious and interested in trying out being a little, he asked if he had to watch Formula 1 with me in return, a sport I love and he thinks is rubbish. Newp ;). His ability to laugh at the situation keeps me at ease.

It’s not been an overnight thing, it’s taken a couple of months for me to reach this point. I can honestly say I 100% *support* him in his interests, and some of them now sound super appealing and fun to me, and I hope that I will enjoy partaking too. I know that I might not - all sorts of situations are appealing in the mind and then you get into them and think.. oh shit, no. Not for me. But I’ll continue to support him, and I know that I have now accepted this part of him, which I was worried I never fully could.

Jenny Poos Her Panties

In order to get things started, here’s a story that I wrote years ago and posted on wetset.net and asstr.

Jenny checked her watch again, and found it only a minute since she had last checked it.  The lecture was due to finish quarter of an hour ago, but the lecturer seemed in no hurry.  Jenny was beginning to get quite anxious, she was desperate to use the toilet, but this wasn’t unusual for her. Jenny had enjoyed holding on and pretending to have accidents in her panties for years.  She was in her final year at university now, but had been pooping and peeing herself since she the start of high-school.

A sharp pain in her side brought Jenny’s mind back to her predicament.She really needed to poo, having not done so for over 2 days now.  Jenny had been holding on, hoping to get through her morning’s lectures and back to her house for the afternoon.  Neither of her housemates would be at home until late that night and Jenny had planned on having some fun in their absence.  Now the pressure to poop was becoming almost unbearable.  Jenny shuffled in her seat and pulled the waistband of her stretch jeans away from her stomach slightly, so as to ease the pressure a little.  She was already getting very excited at the thoughts of all the things she might like to do as soon as she got home.  She loved to mess and wet herself in virtually every way you could imagine, but of course Jenny had her favourites.

She pictured herself at home, lying on her bed wearing just a pair of cotton panties - white sloggi’s, deep cut at the side they were definitely Jenny’s favourite style of panties for pooping in.  The cut at the sides held them up close and they hugged her bottom and her crotch tightly, though not so tightly that there wasn’t room enough to hold a good load of poo snugly up against her bottom in their full-cut seat.  Tight fitting white cotton panties always reminded Jenny of the accident she’d had at home aged 12 when she’d first realised how good pooping herself felt.  In Jenny’s mind she saw herself in her favourite position this afternoon, lying on her front on her bed.  Her panties stretched tightly over her bottom, her hand slowly caressing her crotch as she slowly, slowly filled her panties with first hard firm poop, which she had to strain to push out against her panties, and then finally with softer poo which coated her bottom in the most sensual way.  Yes, Jenny decided, that would be the first thing she would do this afternoon after she got home.

By now Jenny was getting desperate for the lecture to finish, she could hardly wait to get home, and in any case would have to quickly or else to find a toilet and miss her chance for such fun.  A few minutes later the lecture finally came to an end, and Jenny grabbed her notes, shoved them into her shoulder bag and almost ran out of the lecture theatre.  She considered using the toilet in the institute hall as she left, but that wasn’t what she wanted to do, and in any case could make it home - it was only twenty minutes walk.  Jenny walked briskly along the street, all the time thinking about the fun she would soon be having. She was really getting quite wet now, and loved the way that her jeans and panties slipped past her sex with every step she took.  Another sharp pain in her side stopped brought her mind back to the present.  Jenny actually had to stop herself walking and support herself against someone’s garden fence.

For the first time Jenny was beginning to regret holding on so long. She’d done this lots of times before, but had always made it home in time to have her fun in private.  Now she was away from the centre of town, surrounded by large houses, no shops and certainly no public toilets. There were still lots of people walking in the streets and Jenny really didn’t want to mess herself in public - what if someone she knew saw her? The cramp passed, and Jenny stood up and began to walk again, this time slower than before as she concentrated on keeping control.  She had to make it home.

Five minutes later Jenny had to stop again.  The pain this time was terrible.  She could hardly hold out any longer.  Jenny sat down on a nearby wall and hoped the cramp would pass soon, but the pain continued. She could feel a huge firm mass of poop inside herself, and was having no trouble actually holding it there, but the pain was awful.  What could she do?  She was now only a few streets away from home, but she had to go now. There was nothing for it but to poop herself a little, not so much that someone might notice but just enough to relieve the pain and the pressure.

People were still walking past her regularly, and she was in full view where she sat.  There was no way she could do that here.  Jenny scanned the road looking for some cover.  The best she saw was the garden next door to the house whose garden wall she was sitting on now.  There was a tall wall between that garden and the wall, and a large bushy tree shielded a small gap on the garden side of the wall from being over-looked by the houses themselves.  Jenny’s heart thumping she rushed into this gap and taking a quick look around, put down her bag and stood with her legs apart.

The moment she relaxed her muscles Jenny felt her poop begin to move down, but it didn’t yet come out.  She spread her legs still slightly further and steadied herself against the wall in front of her.  Pushing hard now Jenny felt the enormous poo pushing her bottom open as it moved slowly but steadily out, and touched her panties.  She was wearing good clean panties today - still white cotton, but she had planned to change to an older pair before she pooped herself.

Jenny had never shit her pants anywhere not completely private before as she had always been terrified of getting caught.  Her heart was pounding now as she continued to push and her panties and jeans stretched out further away from her bottom.  Still, it felt so good and Jenny moved her right hand down from the wall and began to rub herself through her jeans, still slowly pooping more and more into her panties.  She knew she had to stop and get home.  She knew she would surely be found out if she did it all in her pants here.  The bulge and the smell would be far to much to hide especially in her stretch jeans which showed every detail of her perfect behind - and of anything which shouldn’t be there in a grown-up girl’s pants.

Jenny couldn’t help herself though, it felt so good she kept on pooping and pooping and pooping, filling her panties so much that some poop squeezed out from the back of the leg openings.  The stretch jeans kept it all right up close to her bottom though, and she loved the feeling of having such a big heavy load of poop pushed so tightly up against her, forcing her cheeks apart.  Just as she finally finished she came hard into her already soaking panties, and stood for fully two minutes panting, her heart refusing to stop pounding.  She realised the situation she was now in. She was at least 500 metres from home and had a huge load of poop in her panties.  Ordinarily Jenny would have panicked, but instead she just had a very naughty thought.  What if she didn’t try to dump some of the poop out of her pants here, but instead walked home with her panties full? Jenny had always been scared of getting caught and of anyone knowing she liked to mess herself, but was suddenly feeling so turned on that the thought of doing something so naughty gave her the courage that she needed.

Jenny stood up straight and caught her breath for a moment.  She reached back behind herself and felt the very hot and lumpy seat of her jeans. Anyone walking behind her would surely be able to tell what she had done.The bulge in her jeans was at least the size of two tennis balls, though Jenny felt for all the world like it was two footballs.  Her jeans left nothing to the imagination, and she worried that the softer poo that had escaped from the leg bands of her panties might be staining through, but there was no way to check now.

Picking up her bag she took a couple of steps forward.  Well, you could call them steps, but it was more of a waddle really.  Her panties were so full that no matter how normally she tried to walk she just looked like a baby girl who had completely shit her pants.  Jenny stopped and her mind raced again - was it really a good idea to walk home like this?  What if she met someone she knew The more she thought about it though the more naughty she felt and she knew that she couldn’t resist.  The thought of other people seeing her shameful secret really turned her on.  Jenny set off again.

Shortly later Jenny arrived home.  All through the walk home people had been staring at her bottom and her full panties.  The poop was really firm and hadn’t spread out any more while she walked, so Jenny had been forced to continue her baby girl walk all the way back.  Each time she passed someone in the street she was sure that they were going to say something or point at her, so sure that her heart pounded, but each time they just passed by looking and without a word.

Back at home Jenny dumped her bag in the hall and ran as quickly as she could, which wasn’t very quickly, up to the bathroom.  Turning round, she looked at her bottom in the mirror.  The bulge in her jeans was huge, and there were two brown streaks for a couple of inches down the inside backs of her legs.  She couldn’t believe she’d been out in public like that.  All those people seeing what a naughty little girl she’d been.

Jenny climbed into the bathtub, all the time repeating to herself out loud what a naughty girl she was, and how big girls like her should know better than to poop their knickers, and how all those strangers in the street had seen what a naughty dirty girl she was.  She kept repeating all of this to herself as she spread her legs and turned to face the wall, looking over her shoulder at the mirror showing her shamefully poopy jeans. Without a second though she wet herself.  Hot liquid pooled in the crotch of her panties and ran down the legs of her jeans, turning them dark immediately.  This sent Jenny wild - now she’d been naughty again and wet herself deliberately.  She couldn’t hold on any longer and quickly undid her jeans and pulled them half way down her thighs, before beginning to rub herself furiously though her soaking wet cotton panties.  Jenny reached back behind herself with her other hand and began to gently and rhythmically spank her bottom right on top of the bulge in the back of her panties.  She kept repeating, between gasping and panting, what a naughty little girl she’d been for completely messing herself and pooping and wetting her panties.  Within a minute she had two fantastic orgasms, the second forcing her to sink to her knees and stop.  Beyond caring now, Jenny lay back completely in the tub, sitting on her bottom, and causing poo to gush out of the legs and back waistband of her panties.

She continued slowly rubbing herself, but was now completely spent. Half dozing, Jenny just lay still for a while getting her breath back and thinking about everything she’d done.  She knew that she couldn’t wait until she needed to poo again, and she knew that she would be doing it in her pants again.

“Ok baby, the medicine will take a little bit of time to kick in… You’ll start to feel a tingle as your cock begins to shrink more and more. After you cock shrinks to an unrecognizable size, you will immediately lose control of your bowels and bladder, hence the diaper. I forgot to mention that this loss of control is permanent, these diapers will need to be worn permanently.”

To see all my NSFW captions and to suport the blog: AllMyLinks 🍑

A Halloween Story: Ghost Dick

Content Warning: ghost fucking, cnc, public

It started when I entered the house. My friend's friends rented the place for their halloween party and it looked absolutely awesome. It had everything: it was situated between tall trees, soft lights were scattered all around the place, most of them in carved pumpkins, giving the whole place an eerie glow. Paired with the low and dense fog it looked spooky. They decorated for the occasion as well: plastic skeletons and other fun halloween decorations were cleverly placed all around.

The inside was warm and welcoming, with soft music. There was punch, there were snacks, it was glorious. It was the first time I was really excited for a party like this when I normally tried to avoid too many people at once.

"It's a real haunted house!" my friend promised. Sure, of course it was. The whole thing was more of an old villa that was rented out for parties and such. It had a huge garden and many large rooms, perfect for things like this.

I felt a sudden chill on my nipples, causing them to harden and I was glad for my bra. Weird, though, that the cold would affect them like this. It wasn't particularly cold in the house. I shrugged it off and got myself some punch, mingle with the other guests. I wished that I had plugged my ass up. The weird chill on my nipples would be perfect. My cunt clenched around nothing. A plug up my ass would've made this so much better, but I didn't wanna risk it when there were so many people I didn't know.

There were some seriously awesome costumes all around, making me glad I'd made the effort myself. Spooky snacks and brightly colored drinks made the party perfect. I saw sexy witches and vampires, zombies, skeletons.

Then I felt it again, the sensation at my nipples. It was like something - something -, was touching them. I looked around, one or two women looked a bit funny as well. Was I not the only one? I discreetly swiped a hand down my front, but the sensation didn't stop. I made an excuse and went to one of the bathrooms. To my embarassment I couldn't hold in a moan when my nipples were pinched. My tits have always been sensitive. I stumbled into the bathroom, locked the door. My harsh breathing was loud and I was glad it wasn't a public bathroom where anyone could just walk in. I took a deep breath and slid my top off, then the bra. Yeah, my nipples were hardened and red aching points. They were so stiff and I thought I could see how they were manipulated. As if transparent fingers were there, rolling and pinching them. It certainly felt like it.

I could also feel how my cunt pulsed. I bet it was swollen and puffy, too. Fuck.

"Hey, you ok?" asked someone and knocked. Shit, how long had I stood here, looking at my own tits?

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Be right out." I slid my bra and top back on. What else was I supposed to do? I unlocked the door to step out just in time for the transparent hands to palm my breasts, weigh them. They rubbed the palms all over my stiff nipples and I felt a gush of my hot wet arousal and squirmed a bit, rubbing my thighs together.

I tried to look normal when I got back to the main area, but soon noticed that I wasn't the only one behaving weird. Not only women, either. A lot of the people around lookd mildly concerned, some downright aroused. I saw cocks tenting pants and people trying to hide movements between their legs.

I wonder what was going on. My arousal peaked when I heard the first loud moan. "Fuck!" a man that was about my age groaned. "Fuck something's sucking my cock, fuck!" He exclaimed and pushed his pants down to reveal a stiff, glossy cock. I was fascinated and I thought, yes, I saw something moving, bobbing up and down his shaft.

The friend that invided me struggled, but something forced her arms up and her top and bra off. "Stop! Stop!" she shrieked but to no avail. Her pants came off too, but her cat ears stayed on as we all got to see her glistening pussy. "Ghosts," she moaned. "Fuckin haunted, house," but she couldn't finish her sentence. I was in the best position to see an invisible cock spreading her lips and sinking deep into her cunt. It was incredible to see her spread around nothing, or, rather, around something invisible.

I felt someone pant against my neck, icy cold. Oh god. The ghosts haunting this house had just waited for this, right? For a group of people to come here voluntarily so that they could fuck them - fuck us. I was pretty sure my ghosts knew that I was enjoying this like the slut I was. A cock was pressed against my ass, slid thorugh my crack and I wriggled my butt against him.

"Come on," I murmured. "Is she goung to be the only once having fun?"

I heard him chuckle. How perfect would it be to have him haunt me daily? To go to work with him there, always being able to touch me like this?

I moaned when I saw my friend sinking to her knees, still shrieking and struggling. She didn't seem to kneel willingly and then I saw why. Another invisible cock speared her asshole. "Get out of my ass! No! Out!" Her body was rocked as the cocks fucked her in tandem.

I looked around to find the other guests in various states of undress. Some were naked, some only lost their pants or their tops. I saw tits shaking with the force of thrusts and cocks being manipulated but the best thing was when the first guy got ghost-cock in his ass. First he struggled like my friend did, but then he really got into it. He begged for more, harder, more more more. I'm sure he came so hard he blacked out for a moment.

And I was denied. The hands still rubbed my tits, pinched my nipples. I barely noticed him undressing me because I was so frustrated. Everyone got cock but not me. When I was naked, I leaned over one of the couches to present my ass and cunt to my ghost. His cock nudged my folds, thick head pressed against my entrance without being pushed in. I tried to wriggle it in, pushed my ass out but he denied me and just started to tease my tits again.

I watched as cunts and asses got fucked. At one point, the ghosts manipulated two guests so they ended up with his cock in her cunt while both were fucked in the ass. Ghostly figures became more and more visible with each orgams.

The ghost teasing me finally gave in. He eased his cock into my cunt slowly and I didn't dare to complain as long as he'd just fuck me. The sensation was incredible. I felt his cold cock in me, spreading me but when I looked behind me, nothing more then a faint outline was there.

My tits jiggled with the steady thrusts. I tried to pinch my own nipples, but an invisible hand batted my hands away and I huffed and moaned, as I felt a mouth at my left tit while the other was being played with by cold fingers. So, a second ghost joined us? I wondered if they were able to stand at the same spot? Once fucking my ass while the other railed my pussy? Could I tempt them?

I reached around and spread my ass cheeks for them. "Slut," the ghost murmured and I felt a finger at the tight ring of muscles. A thumb slid inside.

"Someone better cum on her ass, we need lube," I heard him and wondered if I was the only one. The other gueses didn't seem to communicat with the ghosts at all. I looked for my friend. She was begging and begging for it to stop as she was forced to orgasm agian. When she didn't stop begging, something was shoved down her throat. How many ghosts were here?

I pushed back against the cock fucking me, but the rythm never faltered, torturously precise and slow. My juices were already dripping out of my cunt, down my thighs. I moaned when I felt cold cum on my ass and the tip of a cock between my cheeks.

Oh, god, yes. They could definetly stand on the same spot. The cum was spread around between my cheeks and a thumb slid into my asshole again, deeper this time, to tease me. It was soon replaced by the tip of a stiff, hard cock.

"Please, please, please," I babbled when it forced its way into my ass while I was still pounded from behind. Both cocks pushed deep into me until they were filling me completely. It was wonderful. They pressed me against the couch, forced me to stay still while I was impaled on these gorgeously thick, hard, cold cocks.

"This one's a keeper," one of them said as I struggled to fuck back against them, unable to move, still pressed against the couch.

"Mmm, yeah. You would like that, right, slut?"

The cock in my ass started to move, while the one in my cunt continued to pin me. "We'll choose you. You'll be our slut and toy 'til next year's Halloween." Now both cocks started to move, slid in and out of my holes and I fought to keep my eyes from rolling backwards. "You see how many of you are getting fucked right now? The next 364 days all of them will only fuck you. All day, every day." They started to move faster, harder. I panted, moaned. Yes, fuck. "Get used to two cocks in your slutty holes, make it three. You'll never be empty again as along as you're ours."

They fucked my wildly, forcefully and pushed me over the edge one time, two times, three times. Countless times as each and every ghost in this fucking villa filled me with cold cum.

And as they promised, the whole year at least one cock was up one of my holes no matter the time or the place I was.

Please leave a spooky tip for me on ko-fi 🎃

@monstergasms I hope you like this :D it's not quite what you requested, but as close as I could manage.

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The next series of captions I wrote! All about a new mysterious virus infecting young adults across the world. Got inspired by an actual flu epidemic that took place on my college campus. Art credit goes to Rocket Manatee 

Getting laid

In the dimly lit living room of the frat house, the smell of pizza and stale beer lingered in the air. The walls were adorned with posters of rock bands and scantily clad women, typical decor for a fraternity. Two frat boys, Jack and Mike, lounged on the worn-out couch, half-empty beer cans in their hands.

"You just need to get laid, dude," Jack said, a smirk on his face. He took a swig from his beer can, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, easier said than done. Did you see how Professor Collins looked at me today? Like I was some kind of bug she wanted to squash."

Jack laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the room. "That old hag? She’s just mad because no one wants to bang her. I mean, have you seen her? She’s got that permanent scowl."

"Yeah, true," Mike agreed, his voice dripping with disdain. "But did you catch a glimpse of Sarah in class? Man, those tits... they’re like... gigantic. I can’t even focus when she’s around."

Jack nodded, his eyes gleaming. "I know, right? It’s like she’s got a couple of melons under her shirt. She probably uses them to get what she wants. You know how girls are."

Mike snorted. "Yeah, always playing the game."

Jack leaned back, his gaze turning thoughtful. "You know, we could always mess with her a bit. She needs to be taken down a peg or two."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Jack’s smirk widened. "You’ll see. Just follow my lead."

As the two boys plotted, they didn’t notice the figure standing in the doorway, a small, discreet smile playing on her lips. Professor Collins had overheard their entire conversation, and she had plans of her own.

A few evenings later, the frat house was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles. Jack and Mike moved through the crowded rooms with a sense of purpose. Their mission was clear: get laid. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and sweat, mingling with the ever-present scent of pizza and beer.

Jack nudged Mike, pointing to a group of girls by the makeshift bar. "Target acquired," he muttered, a sly grin on his face.

The two boys sauntered over, their swagger exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through their veins. "Hey ladies," Jack said, leaning against the counter with what he thought was a charming smile. "You girls look like you could use some company."

One of the girls, a petite brunette, rolled her eyes. "We’re fine, thanks."

Undeterred, Mike leaned in closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to have a good time. How about a dance?"

The girls exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe later," one of them said dismissively, turning her back to the boys.

Jack scowled, but before he could say anything more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Sarah, the girl with the 'gigantic tits' they had ogled in class, smiling at him.

"Hey, Jack. Hey, Mike," Sarah said, her tone warm and inviting. "Enjoying the party?"

Jack’s eyes lit up. "Sarah! Yeah, it’s great. How about you?"

"I’m having a good time," she replied, her smile widening. "In fact, my roommates and I are throwing an after-party at our place. You guys should come."

Mike’s eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously? We’d love to."

Sarah laughed, a sweet, melodic sound. "Great! Let’s get a taxi."

The boys followed her outside, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness. They piled into a taxi, squeezing in beside Sarah, who gave the driver her address.

As the taxi sped through the city streets, Jack and Mike exchanged triumphant glances. This was their chance. They were sure of it.

A few evenings later, the frat house was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles. Jack and Mike moved through the crowded rooms with a sense of purpose. Their mission was clear: get laid. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and sweat, mingling with the ever-present scent of pizza and beer.

Jack nudged Mike, pointing to a group of girls by the makeshift bar. "Target acquired," he muttered, a sly grin on his face.

The two boys sauntered over, their swagger exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through their veins. "Hey ladies," Jack said, leaning against the counter with what he thought was a charming smile. "You girls look like you could use some company."

One of the girls, a petite brunette, rolled her eyes. "We’re fine, thanks."

Undeterred, Mike leaned in closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to have a good time. How about a dance?"

The girls exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe later," one of them said dismissively, turning her back to the boys.

Jack scowled, but before he could say anything more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Sarah, the girl with the 'gigantic tits' they had ogled in class, smiling at him.

"Hey, Jack. Hey, Mike," Sarah said, her tone warm and inviting. "Enjoying the party?"

Jack’s eyes lit up. "Sarah! Yeah, it’s great. How about you?"

"I’m having a good time," she replied, her smile widening. "In fact, my roommates and I are throwing an after-party at our place. You guys should come."

Mike’s eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously? We’d love to."

Sarah laughed, a sweet, melodic sound. "Great! Let’s get a taxi."

The boys followed her outside, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness. They piled into a taxi, squeezing in beside Sarah, who gave the driver her address.

As the taxi sped through the city streets, Jack and Mike exchanged triumphant glances. This was their chance. They were sure of it.

The taxi pulled up to a quaint, two-story house in a quiet neighborhood. Sarah led the way inside, where they were greeted by her roommates, a group of equally attractive young women. The living room was cozy and tastefully decorated, a stark contrast to the frat house.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Sarah said, gesturing for the boys to take a seat on the couch.

Jack and Mike plopped down, their eyes scanning the room. "Nice place," Jack commented, trying to sound suave.

"Thanks," one of Sarah’s roommates replied with a smile. "We like to keep it comfortable."

Sarah disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray of drinks. "Here you go, guys," she said, handing them each a glass. "Drink up."

Jack took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through him. "So, what’s the plan for the after-party?" he asked, leaning back into the couch.

Sarah’s smile turned mischievous. "Oh, we’ve got something special planned for you two."

The boys exchanged excited glances, their minds racing with possibilities. They had no idea what was in store for them.

The boys downed their drinks, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through them. They relaxed into the couch, exchanging excited glances and chuckling softly. Jack turned to Sarah, his eyes slightly glazed. "So, what's the special plan?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Sarah's smile widened. "You'll see," she said, her voice sweet but with an edge that sent a shiver down Jack's spine.

Minutes passed, and the boys started to feel strange. A warm, tingling sensation spread through their bodies. They shifted uncomfortably, realizing too late that something was very wrong. Jack felt a sudden, uncontrollable urge and before he could react, he heard a faint hissing sound. He looked down, horrified to see a wet stain spreading across his jeans.

"Mike!" Jack gasped, his voice shaky. "I think I just... wet myself."

Mike's eyes widened in panic as he felt a similar sensation. He looked down to see his pants darkening with wetness. "What the hell?" he muttered, his voice trembling.

The girls around them burst into laughter, their mocking giggles filling the room. "Looks like our big, tough frat boys can't even keep their pants dry!" Sarah teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Jack's face turned crimson with humiliation. "This isn't funny, Sarah!" he snapped, his voice cracking.

"Oh, but it is," Sarah said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You guys wanted to get laid, right? Well, the only way you're getting laid tonight is on a changing table."

The girls' laughter grew louder as they surrounded the boys, their mocking words stinging like venom. "Looks like you two are nothing but big babies," one of Sarah's roommates taunted.

The boys, overwhelmed and humiliated, could do nothing but sit there, their soaked pants clinging to their skin. Sarah and her friends pulled them to their feet, guiding them through a doorway and into another room. The sight that greeted them was both surreal and terrifying.

The room was a giant nursery, complete with oversized cribs, a changing table, and shelves stocked with diapers and baby supplies. The walls were painted in soft pastels, decorated with cartoon characters and playful patterns. The scent of baby powder hung in the air.

Jack and Mike stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the bizarre scene before them. Sarah and her friends moved with practiced ease, leading the boys to the changing table. They were too stunned to resist as the girls began to strip them of their wet clothes.

"Welcome to your new home, boys," Sarah said, her voice a mix of amusement and authority. "From now on, you'll be treated like the babies you are."

The boys watched in a daze as the girls produced large, fluffy diapers, decorated with childish prints. Their hands trembled as they tried to cover themselves, but the girls were relentless. They gently but firmly laid the boys down on the changing table, their teasing voices a constant backdrop to the humiliating process.

"Don't worry," one of Sarah's roommates cooed. "We'll take good care of you."

Jack felt a mixture of fear, shame, and a strange, inexplicable sense of surrender as he was powdered and diapered like a baby. The thick padding crinkled as he was helped off the table, his legs wobbling slightly.

Mike, equally overwhelmed, found himself in a similar state. The soft, bulky diaper felt foreign and embarrassing, but he was too shaken to protest.

Suddenly, the door to the nursery opened once more. Professor Collins, the very woman they'd been deriding just days ago, stepped inside, her presence commanding the room.

At the sight of her, both boys felt an involuntary release, the warmth spreading through their diapers as they wet themselves in sheer terror. The professor's lips curled into a cold smile.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Professor Collins said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Two big, tough frat boys reduced to helpless little babies. How fitting."

Sarah and her friends giggled, their laughter echoing in the room. Jack's face burned with humiliation, his earlier bravado shattered. Mike looked away, too ashamed to meet anyone's gaze.

Professor Collins stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "It seems you boys have learned a valuable lesson. But we're not done yet. In fact, your reeducation is just beginning."

The boys exchanged horrified glances, their confusion evident. "Reeducation?" Jack stammered.

Sarah stepped forward, a confident smirk on her face. "Yes, reeducation. You see, Professor Collins has been working with us on a special project for her research in feminism. We're going to turn frat boys like you into good little babies, and then raise you to be better men."

The professor nodded, her gaze unwavering. "You've been chosen as our new research subjects. We'll be documenting every step of your transformation. From arrogant, misogynistic boys to respectful, well-behaved men."

Jack and Mike were too stunned to respond. The realization of their predicament sank in slowly, bringing with it a wave of dread. This wasn't just a humiliating prank. This was a complete, enforced regression.

Professor Collins leaned over Jack's crib, her voice a low, mocking whisper. "Think of this as a second chance, boys. A chance to learn respect, empathy, and humility. Traits you clearly lack."

Mike's eyes filled with tears of frustration and shame. "You can't do this to us," he said, his voice trembling. "We didn't agree to any of this."

Sarah's roommate, the one who had cooed at them earlier, patted Mike's head patronizingly. "Oh, but you did agree, the moment you stepped into this house. And now, you're ours to care for and mold into better people."

Jack clenched his fists, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. But he was powerless, trapped in a diaper, surrounded by women who held all the control.

Professor Collins straightened up, addressing the group. "Sarah, let's make sure our new 'babies' are comfortable. We'll begin their first lessons in the morning."

The girls nodded eagerly, each taking a turn to coo and tease the boys. "Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it," one of them said. "And who knows, you might even start to like it."

As the reality of their situation settled in, Jack and Mike felt a profound sense of defeat. They were no longer the cocky frat boys who had strutted into the party, thinking they could conquer anything. They were now just two scared, humiliated boys in diapers, facing an uncertain future in the hands of those they had once looked down upon.

Professor Collins turned to leave, her final words lingering in the air. "Goodnight, boys. Sweet dreams. Tomorrow, your real education begins."

The door closed behind her, leaving Jack and Mike in the oversized cribs, their minds racing with fear and confusion. They could hear the soft hum of a lullaby playing from a speaker in the corner, adding an eerie touch to the surreal nursery setting.

Sarah leaned over Jack’s crib one last time, her expression softening slightly. "You brought this on yourselves, you know. Maybe after this, you'll learn to treat people with respect."

With that, she turned off the lights, plunging the room into a soothing darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of a nightlight. The boys lay there, their thoughts a chaotic mess, knowing that their lives had irrevocably changed.

As the lullaby played on, they realized there was no escaping this new reality. They were now the subjects of an experiment designed to reshape their very identities, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

The Babies of New York City

Fine I’ll write more smut. I’ll even make it relevant to the current housing crisis. Please message me any spelling / grammar mistakes you find. I will also remove pictures at your request.

I am also not sure this story is particularly good so any feedback is appreciated.

The women of New York City weren’t smart.

All Mike had to do to lure them in was offer his apartment at a price below market rate. Within days of listing he would have hundreds of applicants pleading to rent it out. Of those hundreds of applicants, he could always find a few young beautiful women who looked like they could be easily trained.

The first step was always simple: let them move in normally. These young women would start cautiously but slowly over the days and months let their guards down. Once they stopped locking their doors and sleeping with one eye open, he could spring the first part of the trap.

The girls never questioned the free speakers he provided in the apartment – too excited about the high-quality music to question his intent. The hypnosis tapes were almost too good to be true. Subliminal messaging massaging their minds as they slept, keeping them just awake enough to take in the training.

After a week of their minds being bombarded with suggestions as they slept, they would find themselves slipping up and having tiny accidents during the day. Take Molly as an example, the most recent of his conquests.

One day, seemingly out of nowhere, she found herself with a nasty case of stress incontinence. Every chuckle, sneeze, and startle sent a spurt of urine into her underwear. She was sure this wasn’t the way it had always been for her, but for reasons she couldn’t explain it didn’t bother her all that much. Molly had such an easy solution – Goodnites! She wasn’t sure where the idea came from, but it was perfect for her newfound bladder problems.

Sometimes when she really thought about having to wear training panties her head would start to hurt, but she found that sucking her new pacifier always calmed her down. A damp pull-up and a pacifier between her lips just felt normal to Molly.

But Mike wanted far more than a bunch of barely potty-trained girls dumbly sucking pacifiers. The tapes progressed over time, infecting their minds as they nibbled their pacifiers and dribbled into their training panties.

As their programming progressed, the girls would lose more and more of their continence. Stress incontinence turned into a complete inability to control their bladders. This was Mike’s favorite part, because the demotion of the girl to her diapers was unique every time.

Some girls, like Miranda, would refuse to believe that anything was different. She woke up every morning with a leaking pair of training panties and had to move to the thickest diapers she could find, but in her mind, everything was completely normal. She had no reason to change how she dressed, despite the formerly form-fitting skirts doing nothing to hide her ridiculously thick padding. She just viewed herself as an adult wearing slightly thicker underwear and had no reason not to do the things she loved (liked visiting the cinema).

But every girl really was unique – some girls spiraled almost immediately after leaking in their Goodnites once. Morgan was the most recent example. She loved the cheap rent and made no association between the apartment and her newfound potty problems. She handled the transition to thicker diapers in the complete opposite way.

Morgan gave up control so easily. She settled on even thicker diapers than Miranda, not minding how the infantile characters and pink color made her look like she enjoyed wearing them. As she grew accustomed to wearing and wetting them, she seemed to lose most of her purpose in life. She spent most of her days crawling around her apartment, diaper on full display and pacifier firmly tucked into her mouth. She felt at peace like this – not a single thought under the infantile pink bow she attached to her hair each morning.

However, the transformation wasn’t complete until the girls messed themselves. It would have been so easy to have them squatting down in their pampers after a day of a new hypnosis tape, but Mike wanted this part to always be on their own. It was fun to see how each girl would end up pooping their pants. Some girls gave into the convenience once they were diapered 24/7 anyway, while some fought long and hard before failing in public because of some bad food.

His favorites were always the accidents – the ones that the girls couldn’t stop. Sure, it was adorable to watch them purposefully bend over and fill their Pampers on purpose, grunting softly as their diaper expanded beneath them, but there was something even better when they weren’t doing it intentionally.

Michelle was one of his favorite victims. She tried to take the route of adapting her diaper to her every day life. She was studying to be a doctor and wouldn’t let a temporary bout of incontinence ruin her life’s work.

But her padding had made her forgetful – and it was nearly two hours into her three-hour exam before she realized she hadn’t used the bathroom beforehand. She had gotten so used to peeing her pants like a toddler that she hadn’t even considered what to do if she had to poop. It was an online exam though, so any slight glance away from the camera would mean an automatic failure. She weighed every option multiple times before giving up, feeling the warm wet mush fill the backseat of her diaper. She let out a soft moan as her stomach emptied itself, the warm embrace of her shit filled diaper expanding over her entire backside.

That first messy accident was all it took for the rest of the training to kick in. The feeling of messing a diaper was so unique that it could be handled distinctly in the hypnosis tapes. Every girl who messed her diaper encountered the same fate.

They would return to their bed in the apartment and find a vibrating wand waiting for them. Their minds as mushy as their diapers, they would lay on the bed and get to work, humping the vibrations, desperate for sexual release. For some girls, it was easy, and they would break within minutes of the vibrations pounding against their pussies.

But for other girls, it was much harder. Some had never orgasm-ed before, and so would have to work even harder for this first one. Humping away as the vibrations enveloped their throbbing clits, they knew they wouldn’t be able to stop until they orgasm-ed.

The orgasm wasn’t just symbolic, it was a literal final step. The orgasm would release their remaining reluctance to serve. It would empty their heads of their old lives, allowing them to be transitioned into their new ones. Once they came into their messy (and almost always wet) diapers, their minds would be bound to him.

When the newest girl was subjugated, mind incapable of forming a thought without his approval, he would send the girl before to collect her. The funniest one was when he sent Marisa to collect her own sister! Marisa didn’t even look at her sister with an ounce of recognition as she gather the pathetic girl up, brought her to the nursery, and gave her the first diaper change of her new life.

He had the old girls spend a week helping the new ones adjust before selling the old and repeating the cycle. The stream of easily infantilized girls looking for cheap rent really seemed to be endless.

The babies of New York City were so stupid… but they looked so good in their diapers.