Million Diaper Baby: Chapter 4

THUMP! THUMP-THUMP! 

Holding up a pair of punching mitts, Matthew did his best to ignore his overtly feminine attire while serving as Amy’s dutiful sparring partner. His pink dress, made of lace and taffeta, severely contrasted the target gloves and protective headgear, the latter of which he was thankful to hide his blushy face behind. If only he could say the same for his regulation boxing diaper, which was on prominent display beneath the hem of his short, frilly outfit. The noisy article was even more obnoxious than usual without a pair of gym shorts to dampen the sound. Adding to his distress was the wet itch of makeup that saturated his sweaty face. He was lucky Amy used waterproof products so it wasn’t running into his eyes, though that also meant his face stayed “pretty” throughout the entire day. And to think, this was only day one of seven. Amy’s punches were certainly fierce but no impact would ever land as fatal a blow as the one she delivered to his ego. 

Meanwhile, Amy was having the time of her life squaring up against her sissified bestie. It wasn’t that she felt zero guilt for what she was doing to Matthew and his image around the gym. It was merely that the guilty part of herself was greatly overshadowed by how amusingly cathartic it all was. Every day since she was old enough to train alongside Matthew, she’d been reminded time and time again that she would never measure up to him, or any other guy for that matter. If only those same naysayers could see her now. 

DING! DING! 

“Fighters! Trade out!” announced the gym’s manager, clearing the rings to allow the next set of boxers to spar. 

Relaxing his stance, Matthew made a beeline for the ropes. Never before had he been so happy to hear the final bell toll. It had been a grueling twelve hours of back-and-forth workouts, brawling, and waiting on Amy's hand and foot, the latter of which was by far the most energy-draining. Still, regardless of what Amy had planned for the six days he had left on his sentence, the first was officially in the books. 

“Ahem!” 

Matthew began stepping between the ropes, only to pause at the sound of Amy’s grating voice. “Well? Aren’t you going to hold those open for me?” she said, gesturing at the ropes in his hands. 

Ignoring the ardent jeers being lobbed at him from anyone in earshot, Matthew glared at Amy as he stepped aside and stretched the ropes wide enough for Her Highness to step through. No matter how hard he tried not to let these little moments get to him, it was the condescending tone she used when ordering him around that truly got on his nerves. “Really milking this for everything it's worth, huh?” he said snidely, attempting to dampen whatever satisfaction Amy was getting from this. 

“Oh, Matti-cakes, if you think this is milking it, you’ve got a big storm coming,” responded Amy as she squatted between the ropes. Midway through, she allowed her back foot to kick the rope out from under Matthew’s foot, dislodging it and causing the elastic to snap back to its original position, “Oops!” 

TWIP! 

“GAH!” grunted Matthew, forced to cling to the top rope as the middle one slammed against the base of his diaper. The padding did provide some level of protection but not enough to make it painless. His body slowly rag-dolled to the ground. 

Covering her mouth and feigning innocence, Amy rushed to Matthew’s aid. “Youch! Sorry about that,” she said, patting his head in the least soothing way possible, “But hey, look at it this way. At least you know you’re still a guy under all this.” Her fingers teasingly picked at the frilly shoulders of his dress. 

Swatting Amy’s doting hands away, Matthew attempted to sit up, only for Amy to immediately pull him back to the floor. “Ugh, c’mon,” he muttered, feebly pawing upward like a turtle on its back. The indentured servitude schtick was bad enough without literally being pushed around schoolyard bully style. Sadly, there was little he could do to fight back since his hands were tapped into thickly padded target gloves. 

CUP! 

Matthew gasped as Amy’s hand abruptly planted itself against the front of his diaper. “My Goddess! I’m shocked you’re not leaking with how soaked this thing is,” she stated loudly and proudly, acting as though she hadn’t refused to give Matthew a single bathroom break. Her cruel, greedy smile expanded as Matthew’s cock stiffened beneath her palm, “Ya know, Mama Amy would be happy to change her baby girl’s diapee. I bet my Matti-cakes would like that lots.” Her performative behavior quickly garnered attention from many of the gym’s attendees, and unlike before, the gymnasium was nearly at capacity. 

Curling his arms around his head to mask how flustered he was, Matthew knew shoving Amy’s hand away would expose his boner to everyone gawking at the two of them. The last thing he needed was for anyone to believe he enjoyed Amy’s sissy baby treatment. Caught between a rock and a hard-on, he could do nothing but lie flat and pray that Amy would take pity on him for once. 

Unfortunately, Amy had a million thoughts swirling around in her mind, and not a single one of them was merciful. “Roman, would you be so kind as to retrieve my duffle bag?” she said as she watched the gym revolve around her like clockwork, bending to whatever whim popped into her head next. 

Lifting his arms from his face, Matthew’s heart skipped a beat as Amy’s heavy gym bag was plopped down next to his head. “What’s going-” he said, silenced immediately by Amy’s pointer finger pressing into his lips. Amy had certainly had her fun up to this point but there was no way she was going to do something as depraved as changing his diaper in front of the entire gym…right? The answer to that question appeared to be a resounding yes as he watched her pull a soft, plastic rectangle out of her bag of goodies. He lunged forward in an attempt to get up only for Barry’s fat hand to plant itself against his chest, gluing him to the floor. He wasn’t going anywhere until Amy said so. “This is messed up, Amy!” 

“Oh, hush. What’s a diaper change between friends?” said Amy, brushing aside Matthew’s well-justified concern as tore the tapes off his diaper one by one. 

Matthew opened his mouth to protest only for a pacifier to invade his oral cavity, halting his speech. He gagged as his tongue lapped up whatever strawberry-flavored jelly seemed to be coated around the bulb, which was by far his least favorite flavor.  

“Quit your yapping. You freeball around the locker room without a care in the world. It’s nothing we haven’t seen already,” quipped Barry, referring to Matthew’s shamelessness when it came to locker room shower etiquette. He took joy in nudging the binky back into place anytime Matthew tried to spit it out. 

Squirming in place, Matthew was helpless to do anything but avert his gaze as the front of his diaper was pulled open. “Dude! Haha! You’re not actually supposed to use your diaper!” “No fucking way! Is he hard?” “I think we’re gonna need a new Welterweight champ after this.” The mocking and opportunistic voices of his toughest competitors swarmed him, eating away at the last vestiges of his reputation as Amy proceeded to thoroughly wipe down the length of his diaper area. 

“I hope you know that this would go a lot faster if you’d quit wiggling,” said Amy, playfully slapping at Matthew’s erection with a wet wipe before rubbing the length of it multiple times over. Her smirk was impermeable as she whisked away the droplet of precum that had formed at the tip. 

For as miserable as Matthew was, it was hard to deny how euphoric Amy’s diligent fingers felt. His breathing became shaky and haggard as she mopped away the urine that had soaked into his crotch with a cool, soothing wipe. Gritting his teeth against the rubber pacifier, he opened his mind up to the dismally somber concepts of war, famine, pestilence, and death in hopes of easing back his saber from its battle-ready stance. 

Thankfully, Amy didn’t hold on scrubbing Matthew's cock longer than necessary, her hands instead moving southward to continue cleaning. Using her free hand to grip both of his ankles together and hoist them high, she ran a second wipe down his grundle and in between his untouched booty cheeks. His adorable reaction to her teasing his little hole for a split second further fueled her inner sadist. It wasn’t her intention to awaken anything inside herself but sexual domination was something she could see herself delving more into. Armed with a kinky hypothesis to test, she returned to her duffle bag, curling her lips inward as she examined the vast array of fetish products gifted to her by CrissBaby in her welcome package. 

With his legs back on the ground, Matthew prayed that his diaper change was nearing its end. However, he soon realized this would not be the case as he spotted Amy removing a pair of CrissBaby’s trademarked changing products from her bag: a half-used container of CrissBaby Infinity Powder, which was an adult baby powder designed for extending wearing, and a full bottle of CrissBaby Dreamy Cream, an aphrodisiac-infused diaper lotion. 

Not that Matthew was familiar with either product. Typically, boxers simply utilize an odorless talcum powder to prevent chafing from their diaper. As such, he was oblivious to all the different lotions and powders involved with changing a literal baby. He wanted to refuse and ask for his usual powder but for some odd reason, he found it impossible to cease suckling on the pacifier between his lips. It was as if his anxiety jolted anytime his sucking slowed. What was Amy doing to him?! 

SQUISH! 

In an instant, Matthew’s resistant thoughts were vaporized as his stiffy was unceremoniously coated with a handful of creamy lotion. He had barely held it together when she came at him with the wet wipe. That pleasurably prickly sensation one feels before an orgasm radiated around his cock like a rapidly spreading wildfire, causing his hips to buck against Amy’s hand. 

“Uh oh, I think someone’s starting to like having his diaper changed,” taunted Amy, leaving Matthew with blue balls as she shifted away from his penis after a few seconds. Men were known for possessing only a single load, and she didn’t want him wasting his just yet. Depositing another several squirts of lotion onto her fingertips, she again collected Matthew’s ankles and moved to lather him up from taint to tailbone. 

Though, it was Matthew’s tailpipe that ended up seeing the most attention. In the midst of buttering up his rear crevasse, a cruel desire arose within Amy. It was his doleful yet huffy expression that did her in. She couldn’t get enough of that timid look in his eyes. She needed more. Bunching her index and middle fingers together, she swiftly and secretly jabbed at Matthew’s colon. 

“WUHH?!” muttered Matthew from behind his pacifier as a shockwave of aching arousal laid waste to his weakened lower half. It was only momentary but the impression Amy’s digits whipped his already withered mental state up into a frenzy. Unbeknownst to him were the effects that the various CrissBaby products were having on his body, specifically the lotion, which lingered to stimulate his prostate even after Amy’s fingers had fully retreated. Tangled within a spider’s web of lustful prurience, he gasped with eyes as wide as dinner plates as he began adding to the amount of white cream in his diaper. 

The crowd was once again launched into an uproar over Matthew’s mortifying bodily reaction. Each spurt of jizz elevated the volume of their incessant cackling. Not a soul among them held a shred of respect for Mr. 19 and 0 any longer. 

“Whoopsie-daisy. Looks like someone had a little accident,” cooed Amy, twisting the knife further as she mopped up the lines of cum drizzled across Matthew’s lower tummy, “Good thing I have a solution that should nip your teensy problem in the bud.” The male chorus at Amy’s back cheered viciously as she plucked a small, pink chastity cage from her gym bag and waved it around for Matthew to see. 

TO BE CONTINUED…