Blin: Three

The following story is a fictional account. The characters are entirely unreal and so are their situations. Thus no direct attention was paid to probability or safety for the characters. Such practices should not transfer over to real life situations. Practice safe, sane and consensual sex. For your own damn good. If you have problems or issues with queer pornographic materials, please stop reading now. If you find, on the other hand, that you are quit the purveyor of perversion and that this particular story seems to get your proverbial rocks off, please feel free to contact the author, Kenji De Sade via the CONTACT tab on his profile. Thank you.

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Jeremiah stood with his back leaning against the only door leading into his apartment. He stared into the open space, which was essentially a wide hallway leading to a tiny bedroom and bathroom, both nearly equal in size. The living rooms almond colored wood floors were near as pale as the white walls. the furniture was a cheap and small matching set; a simple chair which looked almost as broad as the simple love seat, both covered in a dark blue upholstery. Each piece of the seating arrangement sat atop equally drab and plain grey rugs, so as not to scratch the wood floors. The cheap prints of expensive art he could not afford adorned the walls in uniform poster size, frames and symmetrical placement. His television, nine-teen inch atop a useless and bare entertainment center, was the final coup de grass of his humble abode.

Jeremiah thought for a moment to look for anything that might be missing, and then realized after taking stock of his life, he didn't really own anything worth stealing. His life hadn't consisted much of anything beyond going to work and coming home. He kept his friends at a distance and spent little time with them. Most of his socializing was done from his computer via blogs and social networking web sites, which he visited in the background while surfing for porn. In fact the only thing worth stealing was his laptop, which he'd last left in his bedroom. On his way there he decided to make it a point to head toward the adjoined bathroom where he regretfully remembered losing his bowels the night before. It hadn't occurred to him till this moment that since he'd fallen, body flat, into his own feces, he'd not even had the chance to clean himself and doubted, given his shit filled diapered state of being, that his captor had the consideration to clean the filth away for him.

He stripped his cloths with no sense of rush nor worry, allowing them to fall where they landed as he made his way into the apartment toward the bedroom and bathroom to bare witness to the heinousness travesty he knew he and the bathroom must have been at this point. As he entered the bedroom, hands unfastening his pants, shirt already removed, he stared dumbfounded at his bathroom doors sudden lack of a door knob. Quickly he walked toward the door and out of his grey slacks and black shoes to inspect the bizarre change. At some point, either while he was sleeping or whilst he was blindly getting to work, his tormentor had for some devious reason removed the door knob and replaced it with what appeared to be a very strong dead bolt lock. After a quick scan Jeremiah was able to confirm that the door itself was impenetrable, without battering it to splinters of pine.

Jeremiah couldn't believe anyone would go through this much trouble for seemingly no beneficial reason. He was completely in the dark about his captor. He had no idea when the rubber hooded man would suddenly do whatever he does and appear to torment him. He'd been raped and stripped of his own bodily functions, now it seemed he couldn't even bathe or brush his teeth of his own volition. Jeremiah thought for a moment that if maybe he could make sense of it, maybe if he could empathize with his captor and figure out some way that doing this to someone might be beneficial to another man; he might find some solace in his situation. But try as he might he just could not make any sense of the matter. To him, the entire situation was purely insane.

He backed away from his door, toward his bed, and plopped himself down on the soft cushion of his mattress. He grunted and felt his cock twitch, reminding him of the hollow tube embedded within the appendage, as the steel intruder holding his asshole wide open pushed in deeper. He felt the mass of filth in the back end of his diaper, a putrid mixture of pre-cum, feces and urine, mash and smooth it self along the contours of his most private regions. The mush moved up between his taint, he was sure he could feel some forcing its way beneath the steel cup as it squished over his trapped crotch, and it also spread out around his ass cheeks, up his crack, and slightly up the back of the diaper. It was a slick cushion of his own wastes and the feeling along with the reminder of his temporarily ignored state left him abashed and humiliated.

He sat there; eyes watery with tears, nude save for a large and full cloth diaper, covered to keep the mess in with clear plastic pants. Ashamed at himself for sitting in the stew of his own filth without thinking of it, he looked down toward the diaper to inspect it, for the first time actually getting a chance to really look at the thing. It was surprisingly simple to him, a basic white cloth diaper. Well white cloth, not surprisingly, stained yellow with urine. The thing that was astonishing to him however was the sheer thickness of it around his waist. He'd noticed the waddle to his walk on his way home from the office, he'd been humiliated and embarrassed by his birds eye view of it's obviousness under his grey slacks, but thus far he had been in no position to truly understand how big the diaper was. He moved around atop the bed, feeling his wastes move with him, so that he might inspect further.

Spreading his legs, Jeremiah was able to compare the thickness at his crotch with his own thigh; he estimated it must have been at least four inches of thick padding. The width between his legs was nearly that of his fully splayed legs, if the cloth had been more solid he would practically have to do the splits while walking. There was an obvious brown tarnish to the white fabric which got darker as Jeremiah's eyes made there way further between his legs. If the plastic pants weren't clear he wouldn't have been able to see the state of his own diaper so easily, he wasn't sure if this fact was a good thing or not. He could tell from his wobbly motions on the bed that sitting for any length would prove to be a practice of balancing skills due to the bulk.

It occurred to him at this point that he might be able to remove the diaper; his hand searched the waist of the clear plastic pants and came to feel a rather solid waistband. It wasn't tight enough that it was digging into him, which he assumed mixed with the over stimulation and humiliation he'd been through was why he'd failed to notice it before. The chain as he'd discovered it was, it seemed, to tight to move down his waist. As his fingers followed along its ensnaring length toward his own backside, he discovered a small well secured pad lock. His defeat was overwhelming. There was no way out of any of this. Every small twist and turn he'd been given in the past couple of days had been thoroughly planned to ensure that there was no way out for Jeremiah.

He thrashed himself about on the bed, lying back thrashing his arms, kicking his legs, and screaming out in frustration. Tears streamed down his eyes as he threw his tantrum. His bald fists slammed them selves down on the bed randomly, being bounced back by the springs below the cushioned surface. His feet followed suit, equally as futile in their expression of violence, equally as random in their motions. His screams echoed slightly in the small room, as he noticed in his fit of rage that the warmth of his diaper was being renewed. This realization brought a new calming dread to him, his fit subsiding, his tears continuing to flow regularly as his urine, his screams dying down to sobs as he lie there on his back, wetting him self, in his mess, staring at his stark white ceiling, then he blinked.

Jeremiah's eyes opened back up and the world came streaming into full clarity with an unusual quickness as his eyes focused on his living room walls in only a moment. He was awash with a slight feeling of dizziness and nausea as his eyes wearily scanned the room. He was on the floor, on top of one of the drab grey rugs which had seemingly only moments before been held down by a chair. As he looked around the room he saw that his love seat was against one wall with the matching chair piled on top of it. These two chairs were carefully tied together so one would not fall from the other. His television was unplugged and turned around so the screen faced the wall it was up against, high on top of the entertainment center. In fact as he took stock of things it seemed everything in his apartment had been moved up out of the way.

Jeremiah was on his knees, still warm and dirty diaper resting on his heels, his hands directly in front of his diapered crotch holding his weight. There were thick very well padded rubber mittens affixed to each wrist, effectively restraining his hands into fists and comfortably keeping his knuckles from pressing rudely against the rug and hardwood floor. He noticed next that his knees were being spared the same pressure thanks to a pair of thick rubber knee pads. As he attempted to stand he felt a tug at his waist and his ankles lifted with his ass nearly toppling him over face first onto the rug, however his protected fists caught the weight at the last minute. He muffled a cry of surprise past a large gag he felt strapped to his head. "At least there's no feeding tube attached this time" he thought to himself as his tongue explored it's shape and his neck craned to look toward his own ankles.

It was barely a surprise to him as his eyes followed the largely knotted ropes leading from the leather cuffs on his ankles to some sort of odd rubber belt secured around his waist. He could tell that the point of this particular bondage was to keep him, if not on all fours, from standing on his own two feet. While he was at first relieved to see that his bonds were made of rope, he quickly realised that with his hands secured within their padded mitts he had very little hope of prying the knots loose and releasing himself. He looked closer at the black rubber belt strapped around his waist, which appeared to be connected to other rubber straps wrapping down over the front of his crotch to a thick solid rubber plate, effectively keeping the diaper pressed up against his skin and his thighs from being able to close. There were other thinner rubber straps also connected to this separator which ran around his thighs, sealing themselves over the leg openings of his clear plastic pants.

Jeremiah's stomach fell when he saw, what he could, of his clear plastic pants. He had wet himself so thoroughly by this point that the diaper no longer seemed to be holding the urine. A dark yellow brown liquid was sloshing around at the edges of his thighs, held in by the black rubber device now strapped around his waist over his diaper. The liquid wasn't high enough in volume that the plastic pants were filled like a water balloon, it seemed as though the flooding had only recently begun. It also seemed as though he'd have time enough left in the diaper to fill the pants to their fullest. He certainly couldn't think of a way he'd be getting free any time soon. The smell coming from them was strong and carried a weight to it that filled his nostrils and clogged them with stink.

Ignoring the sloshing liquid held around his waist he paid attention to the large object he'd been blindly feeling with his tongue. It was large enough that he could sense a small sore beginning in his jaw; it wouldn't be unbearable for a while though and could be included on the list of things to ignore for the time being. Its length left it feeling stout as it just barely hit the back row of his teeth. He was thankful for this, it didn't seem to be choking him in any manner, and oddly he found it was rather comfortable. The shape, texture and taste were all very familiar. The distinct sharp tang of latex accented the ridges of a small soft rubber cock.

Jeremiah sat there; diaper on his heals, sucking the cock in his mouth and allowing him a moment to adjust to his new situation. It was sort of surprising to him how unsurprised by the change in scenario he was. When this all started two days ago he was absolutely terrified, then again, being alone, as it appeared he was, it was a lot less shocking then getting fisted and then raped relentlessly by an unyielding machine. Still, he felt it was odd that he'd gotten so comfortable, if one could call what he felt a feeling of comfort, after the transition he'd just been through. He really couldn't say that the rubber hooded man couldn't alter his emotional reaction to situations whenever he caused Jeremiah to black out. In fact now that it occurred to him, there wasn't much that he could imagine the rubber hood man could not do to him.

He began to crawl around his apartment, asserting what little freedom he had left available to him self. The apartment being as small as it was, there wasn't much to purvey. Still he made note of the fact that seemingly everything he owned had been placed high up out of his reach. As he crawled on the floor around the living room he could see things like his mail, his house keys, his cell phone and even his jacket were on top of the television and entertainment center. The two rugs which had been under the chair and love-seat were pushed together in the center of the floor, it occurred to Jeremiah that this was perhaps intentionally reminiscent of a child's play matt. The small kitchen like area he'd had set up which consisted of a small microwave, mini refrigerator and coffee pot on a small table were found wedged, as out of reach as everything else, between the love seat and chair tied together for what appeared to be safety with the same type of rope his ankles were secured to his waist with.

He crawled toward the bedroom, its door still open and the light on inviting him to see what it had in store. He could hear the liquid in his diaper moving around as he made the odd strides with his hands and knees, his feet dangling in the air from their bondage. The mess in his diaper was acting like a lubricant, allowing him to feel the padding smear across his ass as he crawled. His cock, he noticed, was throbbing half hard within its steal confines. The belts movements were as noticeable as all the other tactile sensations Jeremiah was taking in.

The hollow steel rod was rubbing against his prostate, its weight being brought down by gravity seemed to make the pressure greater then it had been even while he was sitting on it. It was arousing to the point that Jeremiah found him self having to pause a moment to allow his muscles to contract and a small nearly uncontrollable groan to be muffled by the rubber phallus in his mouth. The twitch it caused in his own phallus sent a throbbing ache through his body causing another contraction of muscles. This second contraction caused the steel rod to push slightly more against his prostate and he felt a shudder run through him. He decided their may be some pleasures in his predicament, regardless of how stifled and painful they seemed. Either that or he was just really horny.

He continued his venture through the door of his bedroom realizing for the first time, as though he'd had reason to realize before, that his bed was high enough that he couldn't see on top of it even if he were to set himself upright once again on his knees. He could however see above the bed. What he saw there was frightening to him in a way that only experienced horrors could be. Two rather large clear tanks were hanging over his bed. They were held in place by a couple of chains bolted into his ceiling. This was the second modification he'd noticed in his apartment. There were two tubes coming from the funnel like bottoms of each tank. The tubes conjoined shortly along their lengths to become one tube leading to an end which looked as though it plugged into something. Jeremiah assumed it was designed to plug into the gag he had worn during his force feeding.

He paused a moment to think, realizing he hadn't noticed these tanks earlier before he'd blacked out and woken up bound as he was now. It was not like he could remember really noticing about the room after the initial shock of seeing that his bathroom door had been rendered redundant. The more he thought about it, the more important it became. If these were in fact the same reservoirs he'd been force fed from before, it mean that he was in store for much more of the same treatment. However if they were new, different reservoirs, the idea held many more complications. Were these reservoirs the same size? Did they hold more, or less of the bland textured mix? He felt his cock throb within it's unrelenting confines, tugging slightly on the tube within it's tortured flesh. The sudden contraction shifted the steel belt, and with it, the hollow tube holding his anus wide open. Another uncontrollable moan fought its way out around the cock shaped gage buried indefinitely between his lips.

The bathroom door opened and Jeremiah's heart jumped into his throat. Rubber boots climbed up the meaty calves and thighs that appeared in its door way, they stopped at the black shiny cock shaped plastic cup locked around the otherwise rubber covered crotch from which the legs sprouted. The waist of the rubber pants met with the tucked in skin of the rubber shirt stretching itself tightly over the tight gut and chest it covered. The shirts sleeves were lost beneath thick rubber gloves riding from the wearers hands to his biceps. The collar of the shirt was tucked beneath the collar of the all too familiar, sun-glass eyed, open mouthed hood pulled tightly over a pair of painfully unrecognizable grinning lips.

This time there was no begging. Jeremiah didn't even have it in him to scream anymore. He simply sat back on his haunches, diapered ass resting on his heels, mess squishing once again against his skin, suckling the cock in his mouth and whimpered up at the man in the rubber hood. The man's smile grew a tighter solidarity as he approached Jeremiah, defeated and simply waiting for what was to come next. Jeremiah grunted slightly as the man bent down, his hands beneath Jeremiahs arm pits, and hoisted Jeremiahs body onto the bed. As his knees came to rest on the soft surface, Jeremiah heard the crinkle of what he saw to be plastic sheets in place of his once stark white linen sheets.

He was laid on his back, surprisingly un-violently by the man in the rubber hood. The rubber belt with its thigh separator and the ropes tied to it's back leading to Jeremiahs ankles ensured that his legs stay bent at the knees and splayed wide open. He felt the driest area of the back of the diaper, to his relief, soak up a bit of the dark brown liquid now resting in that area of his plastic pants. His arms were raised above his head and the wrists of his padded fist mitts secured to ropes attached to the bed. He felt more then saw further ropes being attached to the belt at his waist further securing him in place.

He turned his head to the side to watch the rubber hooded man bend over and rummage around in some bag Jeremiah could not see. Soon he produced another rubber item from the bag, holding it up triumphantly and turning the emotionless black lenses and his featureless smile back at Jeremiah. He came over to the head of the bed and leaned with the rubber item toward Jeremiahs head, quickly yet carefully pulling the surprisingly thick material over his face. The placement seemed weird at first to Jeremiah as the eye holes were put properly in place yet his nose seemed crushed by some apparatus. The rubber hooded man was quick however to remedy the situation, quickly calming the sudden fear of suffocation he'd been temporarily overwhelmed with. Soon after his nose, rather then being uncomfortably crushed, was rather uncomfortably stretched.