“Please,” I begged, hating the desperation in my voice. “Just tell me something. Anything.”
Mateo sighed, finishing with my hair. “Look, all I’ll say is this: the boss has always been right so far.”
“Right about what?”
“About which girls need what he gives them,” Rudy elaborated. “The ones he puts in the pink collar… they always end up…” He trailed off, uncomfortable.
“They end up what?” I demanded.
“Happier,” Mateo finished. “Even when they fight it at first.”
I opened my mouth to tell them they were delusional, that I would never be ‘happy’ as some sicko’s sex slave, but a more pressing concern suddenly made itself known.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush.
The men looked at each other again, and then both chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” I snapped.
“That’s not how it works here,” Rudy said, moving to a dresser on the far wall. He opened a drawer and removed what looked like a thick white cloth.
My blood ran cold as I realized what it was.
“No,” I whispered. “No way.”
“Daddy Jax’s rules,” Mateo explained, as if that settled everything. “Little girls who belong to Daddy use diapers when he’s not around to take them to the potty.”
“I am not wearing a diaper,” I told them.
“That’s not your decision to make,” Rudy replied calmly, unfolding the diaper on the bed beside me. “You can cooperate, or we can restrain you further, but either way, this is happening.”
I stared at the thick white cloth, my mind reeling with the implications. This wasn’t just about sex or ownership—this was about complete control, about stripping away every last shred of my adult dignity. The thought made my stomach twist with revulsion.
And yet, to my absolute horror, I felt a treacherous pulse between my legs.
“Please,” I whispered, hating how pathetic I sounded. “I’m not a child. I just need to use the toilet.”
“We’d lose our jobs if we let you,” Mateo said, his tone almost apologetic. “Your daddy was very clear about the rules.”
I looked between them, searching for any sign of sympathy or weakness I could exploit. Finding none, I slumped in defeat.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Just… make it quick.”
They unclipped my wrists from the bedpost, but kept them bound together as they positioned me on my back. Rudy lifted my hips while Mateo slid the diaper beneath me. The material felt soft against my burning backside, a small mercy I hadn’t expected.
“Legs up,” Rudy instructed.
I reluctantly raised my knees toward my chest, exposing myself completely. Mateo sprinkled baby powder over my most intimate areas, the scent sweet and infantilizing. My cheeks burned hotter than my spanked bottom as they worked together to secure the thick padding between my thighs, taping it snugly around my hips.
The diaper was bulky and unmistakable, making it impossible to close my legs properly. When they helped me sit up again, I could feel its thickness with every slight movement, a constant reminder of my new status.
“There we go,” Mateo said, reattaching my cuffs to the bedpost. “All ready for when your daddy arrives.”
They gathered their supplies and moved toward the door.
“Wait,” I called, panic rising in my chest at the thought of being left alone. “How long until… until he comes?”
“Whenever he finishes his business with your former associates,” Rudy answered. “Could be minutes, could be hours.”
