You commanded me to dream of you. More specifically, you commanded me to dream of Ms. Debbie penetrating your round ass while outfitted with your very-own strap-on. And while I haven't forgotten your command and would have been more than happy to comply, unfortunately, I find that my subconscious still harbors too much rebellion for it to obey you. It fails to weave the dream of your choosing.
Instead, all my untamed mind can muster for a dream is a giant rat. The rat is eating contentedly out of an over-turned dumpster. I see the rat. I'm not the rat. This rat is strangely not-disgusting to me. Far from being repulsed, I see it has clean white fur and dark inviting eyes with long lashes- cute- more like a bunny is cute.
I have an inexplicable longing to approach and pet and perhaps even pick up the rat- kiss its soft, white fur like I might normally kiss the freshly-bathed head of a puppy. In a trance, I slowly approach the rat and it just goes on eating, pulling the cheesy food to its thin-lipped chin.
The absurd moment I've come to expect from my dreams arrives with a huge clang. I'm caught completely unaware by a strong steel cage that falls down around me just as I kneel down to touch the strangely un-shy rat. Barely taking notice of the commotion and noise of the cage trapping me, the rat abandons its pile of food and scurries around to my cage. The rat begins to circle the entire perimeter of my cage clockwise. It looks up at me, but does not slip through the bars as it easily could. I might be trapped but it is free to move in, or in-and-out, or not at all.
The rat sings a little telepathic song to me as it squeaks. The song sounds like its lyrics have been written in a very foreign language and poorly translated, "I could come in through the bars and join you but I wouldn't want to leave... I could come and go... but humans do what humans do and my fur is much too clean... I'm much too clean to be pet by you..."
I awake with quite a start. I'm still shivering a little- I'm cold and alone.
I'm still here in my cage of punishment, wearing the gloves of restriction, and the diaper of humiliation. The room outside my cage- your bedroom is quiet and still. I can't hear any snoring coming from your giant bed where you and lie with Ms. Debbie- your Piglet- in your loving arms. I must have been sleeping for quite awhile because I can see the twilight of morning in your window. Outside, I can hear the morning robins announcing their early start.
Fuck. I really have to pee... Maybe I should just go with it? I am wearing a diaper after all and it wouldn't be the first time, would it. I try to query my digestive system to feel how close I am to... having to shit. I still don't feel like I'm 'holding it.' But I do have to pee bad enough that I know I won't be able to fall back asleep if I don't.
Also, I'm sporting a rock-hard morning boner. Even if I was standing in front of a toilet, I'd have to contort myself awkwardly to get my stream aimed anywhere sanitary. I hope my new Prince-Albert piercing is doing okay in there.
It might still be hours before either of you stir yourself awake.
In a moment of queasy nihilism, I decide to take advantage of the absorbent desiccant in the folds of my diaper. I release my bladder and feel pee running blissfully down into my urethra. It even feels good as it passes over my piercing and into the cotton pillow of the diaper. The absorbent magic of the diaper works well keeping all the yellow liquid inside. But I certainly feel all that gross wetness saturating my smooth, waxed skin.
I lie back down feeling alone and humiliated. Maybe I can fall back asleep before the pee around me cools enough to make me feel extremely uncomfortable. I have a sudden urge to call out to you, my Queen, and wake you up, and find out if there is anything you're willing to do about my wet diaper. Maybe you're worried about my piercing getting infected... enough to take action. Or maybe you'd just be annoyed that I woke you up early. It seems like it would be brash and rude of me to wake you.
I decide not to wake you yet- either of you. I'll just put up with this sick awkward humiliating feeling for a little longer- and just see what happens. I do manage to drift back off into that early-morning, dreamless sleep.
***
"She looks pretty wet to me..." Ms. Debbie says squinting at my diaper. She's the first one I see as I wake up again. She's still completely naked and leaning over me with her palms resting on the top of my cage. Bright red lines peek around from the sides of her beautiful thighs and ass. Her pert little nipples hang out in the air over me.
I feel the wetness she's referring to and notice that now it feels very cold and slimy like underwear made of raw salmon steaks.
I don't hear you make any response to her report... a moment passes. I look up at Ms. Debbie longingly and she looks at me with concern. Then, coming from your bed I hear, "Piglet, pick up that strap-on off the floor... pick it up and take it to the bathroom and clean it very well and use the special toy cleaner by the sink too... when it is very clean and dry... put it in my top dresser drawer... Then come back to bed. It's not time to get up yet."
Ms. Debbie turns around and bends over displaying for me her luscious, freshly-punished ass. I even see a glimpse of her dark hole in the early morning light- still tight. She picks up your cock and looks at it with still a little fear in her eyes- as if inspecting it for... who knows what.
She walks over and disappears from sight into the bathroom leaving a sexy ghost picture of her red-striped ass in my mind.
Suddenly, I feel something inside me shift and I fart into my diaper. It's muffled a little by the thick wet fabric but still makes an audible 'fffffferp urp urp' as it slips out. 'Whoops' I think to myself embarrassed knowing you had to have heard that. I guess that with a waxed asshole, it's nearly impossible to control the volume of such sounds... so much for silent but deadly.
I hear your barely muffled giggle from the bed. So you did hear it, "It won't be long now will it, Buttercup, and good morning- by the way."
"Good morning, my Queen," I answer to your invisible ears.
The smell of my fart seeps out of the wet diaper and fills the airspace in the cage around me. It's a rude preview-no- not preview- pre-smell- of coming repulsions.
Now I really can feel that my colon is completely full and in need of evacuation. I'm reminded with horror of the feeling of holding in the coffee enema yesterday. It's that same painful crampy feeling reporting to me from my stink tunnel.
If I pushed right now, my diaper would fill with my body's most-fragrant refuse... I just can bring myself to do it. I hold it in with a clenched jaw and a grimace. No. Not yet. I can't. I clench my sphincter tightly- and the feeling passes- although I know the relief is only temporary.
I can hear water running inside the bathroom as Ms. Debbie does her best to deep clean the very dildo you punished her sphincter with last night. I'm glad she didn't hear my fart, but I'm certain you intend to involve her in the fast approaching horror show.
I hear the water shut off. I picture her drying the dildo carefully with a hand towel. She emerges from the bathroom carrying the clean dildo in one hand and its fine leather harness in the other. She opens your dresser drawer and deposits them inside. She turns around, and smiles at me, and I feel the cramp inside me scream again.
I wince. My brow feels sweaty.
"Good, Piglet, thank you... now before you join me I need another little favor... In the closet in the hall I keep the diapers and the cleaning wipes... go fetch a diaper and the wipes... I think Buttercup might have had a little... (I think she might need to be changed)..." you whisper loudly.
My face fills with shame. Your command to her numbs my remaining, futile resistance and my sphincter opens up triggering my colon to push out its unthinkable load. It immediately encounters the tight fabric of the diaper and coils itself into a slimy ball against my tender ass cheeks. A second later, I get my first whiff of the potent smell. My physical relief never registers before it is replaced with humiliating anguish.
Ms. Debbie has gone out from the room again and is rummaging through your closet in the hall.
Her athletic naked body comes back in holding the wipes and a fresh new diaper.
"The keys are on my dresser, go get them, Piglet," your sleep-soaked voice announces leisurely from your bed, "This one is all yours."
Piglet looks at me with an un-easy smile and I look back at her not for the first time with self-disgust and horror. She walks coyly over to your dresser again and picks up the keys with the same hand holding the diaper. She approaches me determinedly- little tits bouncing slightly with each step.
She bends over setting the things down on the wood floor just next to my cage. She picks the keys back up and squints at the ring of keys examining them in deep concentration- worried to ask for more help. She looks at the lock for clues and then back at the selection of keys thumbing through them and deciding on one to try. She kneels down in front of the lock and sniffs the sour air and winces. She doesn't have to say anything we both know what she smells. I close my eyes in defeat.
"Buttercup," I hear your voice, "Consider yourself free to leave the cage now... Piglet, Pull out the mat from inside the cage and lay it out on the floor I don't want a mess on my floor."
I open my eyes and dare to look at Ms. Debbie, she looks as if she's going to be sick and her nose crinkles involuntarily. She turns the key opening the padlock. She pulls it from the latch. And sets it on the floor and swings open my cage door. She immediately stands up allowing me free passage out of the cage.
