The Padded Palace Act IV: Chapter 18
“Nononono…” muttered Connor as he searched his room high and low for a single article of male clothing. To his dismay, not even so much as a sock remained from his personal wardrobe. This left him with three despair-inducing choices. Option A was to don the dress and diapers that whoever raided his closet left behind. He wasn’t a huge fan of Option A, considering he’d be playing into the hands of his thief. Option B would see him selecting an alternate dress or nightie from Latasha’s storage closet, though that wasn’t exactly a far cry from the results of the first choice. And then there was Option C: to abandon all hope and seek out Latasha with nothing but a towel to spare him his dignity. Needless to say, he wasn’t particularly enamored with his options.
Parking himself at the edge of the bed, Connor contemplated who the perpetrator, or perpetrators, might have been. Latasha and Skye had only gotten home earlier that day with one being held up in her office all afternoon while the other was barricaded in her bedroom sobbing. It was difficult to imagine either or both of them having a hand in this. Tragically, it had been over 24 hours since he last opened his dresser, meaning that any one of the other girls could’ve pilfered his boy clothes. That said, his money was on Stacy given that she’d been upstairs alone more than anyone else. He’d already seen her sneaking around in his room once before, adding credence to his theory. Although, he also couldn’t count out Ellie and her propensity to pull pranks as a possibility.
Connor could feel his anxiety rising amidst his idle speculation. Wagging his head back and forth, he attempted to shake off his jitteriness. His rapid movement caused his hand to shift to the side just enough to brush against the lace trim of the yellow babydoll dress. He glanced at the cutesy attire before his pupils darted in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, the image of the dress was already burned into his brain, beckoning him to sneak another peak. Whoever had selected this outfit for him had made sure to pick out something extra short and extra sissy, guaranteeing whatever he wore underneath would be plainly visible. The poofy sleeves were so bulky that they stood up a half-foot from the flat of the bed, while the silky texture of satin instantly reminded him of Skye’s favorite pink nightie.
There was little doubt in Connor’s mind over his desire to slip into the juvenile garments. He desperately wanted to toss aside his damp towels and encase himself in girly textiles. It didn’t even matter if Latasha demoted him to perma-Little status. He needed to know what it felt like to wear such an erotic and embarrassing outfit. “Two minutes, then I’ll take it off,” he swore to himself in an effort to justify his salacious actions; not that he really cared if what he was doing was justified.
Picking at the skirt of the dress atop the bed, Connor was immediately entranced by the splendor of layered fabrics. The satin outer layer was only the beginning, with two rows of built-in, high-quality muslin petticoats and a lining of chiffon tucked underneath ensuring he’d be utterly entrenched in silken material both inside and out. He could feel the heat in his cheeks rising from a simmer to a boil as he bunched the layers together and lifted it over his head. Life returned to his cock in anticipation of the big drop.
Curling his thumbs inward, Connor’s teeth ran jaggedly along his bottom lip as the frock started to unfurl across his forearms, its wide, provocative mouth gobbling him up to his elbows. Hopping from one nightie to another, he hadn’t worn an actual dress since his first play session with Latasha. He’d almost forgotten how much he adored the weight as it fully engulfed his arms. A playful simper broached his face as his hands crawled out through the twin holes at each side, allowing him to ball up the entire outfit so that the head hole was parallel to the bottom hem of the skirts. He snickered daintily as he looped his neck through the opening before releasing his grip on the rest of the dress.
The heavy SWOOSH! reverberated as the darling babydoll came to a bouncy halt at his waistline, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his veins as the skirts brushed against his dribbling stiffy. Words could not describe how giddy he was made by the feeling of frills, leaving his prancing feet to do the talking. He hugged his chest and fell back onto the bed, enamored by the satin swarming him head to toe. “Hehe! Uh ohs!” he chortled softly as he grabbed the edges of his comforter and swaddled himself up. A jolt of horny energy leaped out of his body as he momentarily imagined being swallowed by his silky surroundings. It didn’t matter if he knew the dress was a clever trap designed to keep him diapered and sissified for the foreseeable future. It was a trap he was happy to fall into.
Maybe I want to be trapped.
Freezing in place with the dress pinched between his fingers, a startling realization struck Connor. Regardless of how unconscious it was, every decision he’d made in the past two months, from masturbating in a nightie and letting Latasha pad him up on a daily basis to turning down a job offer from his former professor, had pushed him further down the path of regression and feminization. He could’ve cut and run at any time amid his descent but he never did.
The truth was that Connor did want to be trapped in every conceivable way. He craved to have his masculinity and adulthood locked away, to be subjected to endless amounts of blood-curdling humiliation, and to be saddled with the knowledge that it was all because of his horny decision-making. It would be an act of futility to deny it any longer.
Sitting up in bed, Connor knew his work was nowhere near finished as illustrated by the pair of neatly folded plastic diapers that had dropped to the floor beside him. “Ugh!” he groaned, leaning over the side of the bed to snatch the fallen padding; a thought that had him jokingly longing for the safety and stability only crib bars could provide.
With the diapers recovered, Connor wasted no time fluffing the twin diapers. It was truly the little things that made a caregiver more than simply proficient. From an outsider’s perspective, scrunching and battering a pamper before wearing it may have seemed incredibly odd. However, to do so properly would secure a diaper's maximum puffiness for hours to come. He delighted in watching the noisy plastic expand in his hands, twisting and folding each nappy as Latasha had trained him. When he was satisfied with the swollen state of his new padding, he laid each diaper out in front of him, stacking one on top of the other. Now, the fun part could begin.
Raising his butt and scooching forward, Connor helplessly succumbed to a fit of childish laughter as his nappies sounded off beneath him like a pair of popcorn bags cooking in the microwave; music to his ears. He cursed his past vanilla self for depriving him of his carnal desires for as long as he did, though there was nothing he could do to change the past now. All he could do was keep moving forward with his blossoming kinks and allow the rabbit hole he was tunneling through to lead him all the way to Wonderland. Lust overtook his senses as he reached toward his bedside table, retrieving the lotion and baby powder he kept nearby for pull-up changes. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be using the bottles on something that thin for the foreseeable future.
After two months of taping pull-ups to himself multiple times a day, Connor had achieved mastery in the art of self-diapering. His hands made quick work of lathering up his pelvic region with creamy lotion, only slowing down briefly as he coated his pulsing scepter. It was easily the hardest part of his changing process in more ways than one, requiring him to ignore his base urges long enough to finish taping his diaper. Once generously lotioned, he proceeded to dump a handful of powder into his palm before lightly running his hand along his rear. It was a more elegant way to apply powder than attempting to shake a bottle behind his back while prone.
The rest of the process flew by as Connor sprinkled a dusting of powder over his crotch before folding the diaper front into place. Delicately unpeeling the tapes one at a time, he lightly applied all four to the landing pad. A few minor adjustments later, he was mashing his thumbs against each tape for a sturdy seal. He wiggled his hips, tittering at the comforting and sensual way the padding clung to his butt. That sensuality was amplified as he settled his bottom back down atop the second, equally thick pamper. Typically, he would score the outer plastic of the inner diaper to permit urine and other liquids to soak through to the second layer. Unfortunately, his room was devoid of anything sharp enough to accomplish that feat. Not that the absence of holes in nappy number one made the experience of being double-diapered any less thrilling.
Gripping his feet, Connor playfully rolled forward into an upright position. The shifting of his body combined with the pockets of air still trapped inside his double diapers caused the already ridiculously sized padding to inflate, squeezing several more chuckles out of him. “Abababa!” he babbled, attempting to mimic the way the girls often vocalized their Little Space. Sure enough, the tiny utterance was all it took to send him into a frenzy of giggles. More importantly, he could feel his cheeks growing warm and rosy, conflating his internalized embarrassment with the unbridled arousal he felt to establish a form of Little Space that was all his own.
The myriad of positive sensations pummeled Connor’s erotogenic appetite, producing a mindless field of haze that rounded his corneas and obstructed his vision. A deviously curious hand cupped the cloud consuming his lap, lavishing how his cock levitated within its pillowy confines. Despite knowing his supposed two-minute time limit had long since ended, he showed no interest in removing his fetish gear. This was pure, unadulterated bliss.
DING-DONG!
The doorbell echoed throughout the Padded Palace, alerting Connor and all inside. The Bigs were back.
TO BE CONTINUED…