Chapter Text
"This is so fucking dumb.” I said, crossing my arms and frowning at my boss.
“Yeah, yeah, keep mouthing off, kid, see how it works out for you.” Tony warned, slipping two fingers out of the leg gathers, “You’re dry.”
Tony stepped back and I roughly pulled up my jeans. “I could have told you that.”
“Not if you wanted to avoid trouble you couldn’t. You know your rules.”
Ugh. My rules. The phrase made me blush and squirm and rage, all in about equal measure.
“Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about them.”
“No, but you can curb the attitude, mister.” He said with a light tap on my hip in warning. I blushed but nodded. “Did you get the motor rebuild done on the Chevy?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. Most of Tony’s business was in fixing up vintage cars to be modern emission compliant, “Though the transmission’s still going to be a problem until the part spec update comes in for the nanofab and the guys at the archive are dicking me around about the digitization” Tony grunted annoyedly at that.
“You can tell them that they either deliver by close of business tomorrow or we’ll go buy a scan on the secondary market and they can suck eggs. Pete picking you up?”
“Nah, I’m hanging out with friends.”
Tony looked up sharply at that, “And who’s watching you, then?”
Ugh. Fucking hell. Three weeks ago, Peter, my husband, had had one of his “You need a firmer hand, my boy,” moments and now I not only needed permission to go anywhere without him other than work, I needed a “responsible adult” to “supervise” me while I did it. It was insane and I’d gotten into a huge pile of trouble over my reaction to his declaration and had been grounded for two weeks. So, today was the first time that I would get a chance to hang out with my friends under the stupid, fucking “responsible adult rules.”
I waved my hand flailing, “Do you have to put it like that?”
“Like you’re a little boy who needs to be watched?” Tony asked, a smirk forming on his face.
“Oh, fuck yo-” I started in on him.
“I said watch the attitude, Tanner.” He said, grabbing me around the waist and swatting me hard, twice on my left thigh. I hissed.
“Fine! Fine!” I cried in response.
“You’re going to answer me unless you want me to get serious and pull down your pants for a proper punishment.”
“No! No! Okay, I get it.” I shouted. I could not get punished right now. My friends would be here soon and the only thing more embarrassing than having to talk to Tony about this was to have them show up while I was getting my ass tanned in the shop.
“Alright, who is watching you with you friends, little boy.”
“Logan!” I said quickly, “Logan’s got me, okay?”
Tony let go of me and smirked, “Wait, that kid you always hung out with in high school? That Logan?”
This is what I get for staying in the city and working for family friends. “Yes, Tony. That Logan.”
Tony continued to smirk, but gave me a light tug on my leather collar with the three yellow stripes for the tone. The bastard. “Aww. Y’all are still friends? Where is he now? You wearing your work shirt out?” He asked in quick succession.
“He’s working freelance commissions and picking up hours with Marlee. And no, I’ve got a Tee in my bag that I wanna change into.”
“That’s fun. Commissions?”
“He does digital art and design now, or something. For A.R. companies, mostly, I think.” I said as he pulled out my bag and fished through it for the shirt, “You don’t need to do that.”
“Yeah, I do, kid. Arms up.” I sighed at the indignity of it all and raised my arms. He pulled my work shirt - marked with “Tony’s Garage” on the back and my name on the front - off, leaving me in just my thermal before helping me into the ancient Quicksilver t-shirt. I liked that shirt because unlike most of the shirts Peter let me get these days, it hung relatively long off my body rather than short.
“There you go, skater boy.” He said, ruffling my hair.
“Shut upppp.” I whined at him and dodged another swat. He let me get away with it.
“Yoooo! Tanner!” Came a call from the front of the large open garage door that led into the shop.
I smiled instantly, “Hey guys!” First was Wes, the loud mouth, and his brother Eli. The twins worked in construction. They were both shit-stirrers—Wes especially—but also the ones who came up with like half the ridiculous adrenaline junkie ideas we all tried together. I still have no idea how they found the bungee jump off bridge guys we rolled with last month. They weren’t anywhere online.
Behind the twins came Malik, the sole other sub in the gang. I gave him the quick sub-recognizing-sub nod and a smile while the twins mobbed me. Unlike me, Malik wasn’t really lifestyle. He was happy with a few hook ups and light platonic domination by his roommate behind closed doors.
And last but not least, Logan, Malik’s roommate and my best friend in the whole damn world. We had known each other since high school and we had been close even as we both went off to new jobs and new world. He was a regular at my and Peter’s house.
And he was, according to Peter, “a responsible adult.”
Wes was still grabbing me, “Hey, so you can actually come over with us? Your man finally let you free?”
Logan spoke up before I could, “Yeah, he’s free to hang - finally - as long as he’s good.” He turned to my boss, “Hey, Tony.”
Tony sort of shook himself, “Holy shit, Logan Carson, in the flesh! You grew up, kid!” The others were joshing each other and headed back out towards the sun while we wrapped up the pleasantries.
Logan smiled softly, “Yeah, well, that does happen over five years.”
Tony grinned and ruffled my hair, “Not for everyone.”
“Hey!” I complained.
Logan gave me a grin, and turned back to Tony, “Can I take Tanner off your hands?”
“Yup, his shift is done.” I let out a breath and started to move with the other guys out towards the garage entrance, but Tony kept going, “He’s got three changes, wipes, powder, and cream all in the bag. Also his paddle if he acts up.”
I immediately turned red and turned back to yell at him but before I could Logan nodded, “Got it, thanks. Has he been acting up, today?”
“Nah. Just copping a bit too much attitude. I think he was a bit excited to hang out with you all. I got him settled down.” Tony chuckled, “But watch out for more of that.”
I just stared. Tony treating me like a little kid was normal at this point, but Logan, my best friend, suddenly being yet another dom talking about me like I wasn’t even there? I was speechless. My entire face felt like it was on fire.
“Got it. Thanks. Alright, that’s it. Let’s blow this joint, man.” Logan said, punching my shoulder as he normally did. I was still struggling to keep up with the mental whiplash and mutely followed him out of the garage.
In the sunlight of the street outside our little group finally gathered and - in the way of all groups of more than three people, sorta drifted towards moving towards our destination.
“Tanner, Tanner!” One of the twins was saying, “You’ve got to hear this stupid thing Logan was saying.”
“Ah shut up, man.” Logan said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, but Tanner, Logy here thinks that Druid would be better if they dropped Vanessa Pinewood.”
Drawn in, I grinned. Despite the weirdness of Logan’s behavior in the garage, the twins were infectious. “Whaaaat?” I said, drawing it out, “No! Nobody is that dumb. Come on, Logan. Nessa is a founding fucking member.”
“Fuck all three of you,” Logan said amiably, “I’m right! Their music has moved on and Nessa isn’t moving on with them so each of their albums has like two stupid hype pop nonsense songs like it’s still 69.”
“Oh no,” I laughed as I turned back to Wes, “He hates hype pop now. He’s too far gone. Do you think we need to do a lobotomy?”
“I think he’s already had one if he thinks that you can have Druid without Nessa Pinewood.”
Logan grinned and said something back to Wes, but I didn’t catch it because he had quietly slipped his hand into mine and gripped. I looked down at it in shock and back up into Logan’s face.
He let himself be jostled by the group so he moved up close to me as we kept walking and just whispered into my ear, “Remember your rules, little boy.” Before turning and saying something to one of the others.
I felt my face heat and my stomach drop. I hadn’t realized the group had wandered into a crosswalk.
And one of Peter’s stupid rules for me was, “Always hold a grown up’s hand when you cross the street.”
That had meant I had to hold Peter’s hand when I was with him. But with the sudden shift to always being under supervision of a ”responsible adult,” I hadn’t considered that it meant all the little humiliating rituals he put me through would be constant and wouldn’t even be with Peter as the Adult.
I suddenly felt the weight of the yellow caste collar around my neck in a way I hadn’t in the months since Peter put it on me.
And then I panicked. Somehow it had never occurred to me that all the time meant all the time. That I was out of breaks and exceptions. That now I’d never escape being just a little boy.
I mean it had occurred to me. In my fantasies. In when I originally agreed to go full time with Peter. When I’d made him my guardian. When we’d gone in for the limited revocation order and yellow caste designation. I’d jerked off enough over the idea of “all the time, no exceptions, with everyone.” Back when I’d been able to jerk off. But somehow the reality of it still snuck up on me.
It was overwhelming. Even as the banter around me kept going, I got quiet. Lost in my own head. Everybody seemed okay to let me zone out, though.
Logan let go of my hand when we got across the street to the other sidewalk. We turned a corner onto the direction of his and Malik’s place. The blocks were shorter this direction. At every intersection, Logan would slip his hand in mine and take me in a firm grip and then let me go when we got to the other side.
Nobody commented. The conversation didn’t even pause. But I knew they could all see. They could all see Logan grabbing my hand.
How could Logan do this to me? He wasn’t my dom! He was over at our place often enough that he’d seen pretty much everything about my and Peter’s dynamic there was to see, in ways the others never had. Peter had drawn Logan into it in little ways, he’d ask Peter if I was free to hang out, ask what I’d done to get in trouble, ruffle my hair when I wasn’t allowed to talk and then talk with Peter instead. But always as a bystander. Never as somebody… in charge of me. Never as a dom.
And while I’d bitched and moaned to Peter about Logan being my appointed “responsible adult” while we’re hanging out, I don’t think I’d ever really accepted that would mean he would actually dom me. The shift was jarring and I was terrified to think of how far it could go.
And furious at Logan for humiliating me like this.
We were at the last crosswalk before their place and when Logan reached for my hand, I snatched it back. Logan stopped stock still before entering the intersection and held out his hand.
“Hand, Tanner.” He said. He was using a tone I don’t think I’d ever heard from him. It was flat and uncompromising.
Everybody else had stopped when Logan spoke up and they were staring at us. Any subtlety about catching my hand quietly as we got to the intersection was gone. This was obviously what it was: a dom giving an order to a sub.
And Logan had never done that with me before.
“What the fuck are you doing, man?” I shouted at him.
“I’m telling you to give me your hand, Tanner.” Logan said. He had gentled his voice a bit, but there was still steel there. “Because your rules say you need to hold a grown up’s hand when you cross the street.”
I saw the twins smirk a bit at that.
“I am twenty-four, Logan. I am a grown up. I can cross the street on my fucking own.”
Logan shook his head, “No, little boy, you can’t. It’s against your rules. Now give me your hand.”
I could see Malik watching this with wide eyes. This had gone far enough.
“Fuck you and fuck the rules. I can’t believe you’re acting like this.” I shouted at him, slapped his hand away, turned my heel and stomped across the fucking street. I couldn’t fucking believe him.
The moment I reached the other side and was back on sidewalk, though, Logan’s voice cut through my pique, “Tanner Cole Buckler!” I stopped suddenly. Peter had long since ingrained an automatic freeze reflex into me upon hearing my full name. Even at my most pissed off, some part of my brain now had thoroughly learned that if I heard my full name I better stop right away or I’d be in for a world of pain. I turned with wide eyes on my best friend, who was striding towards me, with our other friends following in his wake, “You take another step and I will tan your ass right here on the street.”
My mind rebelled at that threat. Surely Logan wouldn’t actually - I mean he was my friend. Peter had only rarely spanked me in public. And never in front of my friends. Surely Logan wouldn’t…
The look in his eyes and the firm line of his mouth suggested he would.
I stood there stuck in the loop of not being quite confident how serious Logan was being when he caught up with me and he grabbed my wrist firmly, walking onwards towards his and Malik’s building.
“I don’t know what you thought you were doing there,buddy.” Logan said, pissed and showing it, “I know you know not to stomp away from a dom in charge of you. I know Peter wouldn’t have put up with that. Neither would Tony.”
He was just going to drag me like an errant sub being taken home? What? Our friends were watching us! I tried to pry my wrist away from him, tried to stop walking, but none of it worked. He had gotten serious with the gym after high school in a way I hadn’t and and he was apparently quite capable of making me go where he wanted me.
Logan stopped, though, just short of the stairs into their apartment building, “You’re only making this worse on yourself, Tanner. Let’s just get inside so we can settle you down, okay?”
“Settle me down?!”
“Yes, and if you keep fighting me I’m going to take your pants and you can waddle through the lobby and up the stairs without them.”
“You wouldn’t.” I insisted.
“Try me.” Logan said. Looking at him, and what he’d already done today, I wasn’t sure. He might actually do it.
“Fine. But we’re talking about this when we get to your place.”
“You bet your ass we’re going to have a talk about it.” He said darkly and kept his hold on my wrist tight and hustled us up the stairs to his apartment, the guys following behind.
Only once he dragged me into the apartment, let the others in, and shut the door did he let go of my wrist.
“What the hell was that!” I exploded at him. “You can’t just grab me like-” I flailed exasperated, “I’m your friend, I thought we were cool! You can’t embarrass me in front of the guys! I can’t believe you’d fucking do that to me. You asshole.”
While I was ranting, Logan had calmly moved around the room to sit on his somewhat threadbare old vintage couch. As I threw the last vicious word at him he looked up, pretty unphased.
“So. Are you done with your tantrum?”
“Tantrum?” I hissed.
“Yes, tantrum. The full blown little boy tantrum you’ve been throwing for the past five minutes.” He explained calmly. “I’m asking if you’re done and ready to talk?”
“I’m not throwing a -”
“Yes,” Logan interrupted, “You are. You’re feeling a lot of big emotions today because it’s really new having your rules when you’re out with me and the guys, and that’s been hard. So you’ve been fussy-
“Fussy?” I repeated, somehow torn between outrage and the growing pit of smallness his tone was pushing me into.
“-fussy,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “and you’re throwing a tantrum over it. I’m asking if you’re done so we can deal with your behavior.”
“Deal with my behavior?” I asked, at this point my tone was almost tentative. When I’d gotten mad at Logan in the past, he’d shout right back at me and we’d usually be pissy for a bit until we calmed down and made up. This new version of Logan wasn’t rising up to the bait at all and it was throwing me off balance.
“You don’t think you can break your rules, slap my hand away, stomp off, and then curse me out and throw a tantrum without being punished, do you?” Logan asked calmly, “Once we’re done talking I’ll give you the discipline you need to help you be a well-behaved little boy.”
“Logan,” My voice came out almost as a whine, “Why are you acting like this?”
“Because your husband decided it wasn’t helping you to have all these exceptions. All these times in your day where you’re only partially a little boy because you’re pretending around your friends to be a grown up. I get that you felt you used to need to do that because there wasn’t anybody to catch you. But Peter has been working with you to find people to make sure there’s always somebody there for you, to keep you as the little boy that you are. Right?”
I looked down at the floor, blushing hard. “I guess.”
“That’s why you’ve been a little boy at work for the past six months and why you and Peter both came to me and asked me to be in charge and keep you obeying all your rules all the time, right?”
“I mean… that’s what Peter said I needed to do to get to keep hanging out with you guys out of the house.”
“And how do you think Peter would feel if after I said yes to that, I let you cross the street on your own and shout at me and hit me?”
I stared at the floor. There wasn’t an answer to that that ended well for me.
“Heck, Tanner, how do you think you would feel if I let you get away with that?”
“I would feel better!” I said suddenly, though my voice was a full whine, “Because I’d know you were still my friend!”
“Would you? Or would you know that me being your friend meant you weren’t safe with me? That I wouldn’t catch you and help you when you needed it?”
“I…” I let out a long frustrated wordless whine, “Fine. I don’t know if I would like it.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Logan said encouragingly, “But don’t worry, I’ve got you buddy. If I’m the grown up here, I’m going to be in charge of you. Don’t worry, we can still be friends even if I'm in charge.”
“Yeah,” Wes spoke up, “Don’t worry man, we’re still gonna be friends no matter what.”
I suddenly realized that it wasn’t just Logan and me in the room, but all three of the others had been watching this whole exchange. My blush rushed back onto my face.
“Alright,” Logan said, patting his lap, “Come over here and let’s get started.”
I glanced around at the guys, “Can we do it in your bedroom?”
“No, I think here is good.” Logan replied casually, patting his lap again. “Come on.”
“But they’ll see…” I whined.
“What they’ll see is a little boy who threw a tantrum getting punished, as little boys who throw tantrums do. I think it will be good for you to know that we can all see you as the little boy you are, treat you the way you need to be treated and still be your friends. So yes, we’re doing it here, now, where they can see.”
Every time he called me a little boy it hit that spot inside me that twisted and squirmed and made me feel hot all over and strain in my cage.
“Loooogannn…” I offered, drawing out his name plaintively.
“Tanner, who decides where and how you’ll get punished?”
Ugh. I knew the answer to this one and since it was clear I was getting punished I didn’t want it to be worse, “You do.”
“Your grown ups do.” Logan corrected, “Now, I’m not going to tell you again, come over here. If I have to get you, I’m doubling your punishment.”
I slowly walked over until I was standing in front of him.
“Good boy.” He praised and despite myself I felt warm at the praise. “Give me your backpack.”
I shrugged my bag off and handed it off to him so it was out of the way. Logan paused with the bag in his lap, unzipped it, brushed past the three diapers in the main pocket - I really hope the three guys behind me couldn’t see what was going on in detail - and fished out the small rubber paddle out of the bag.
“No wait, Logan, you don’t need the paddle!”
“That isn’t for little boys to decide.” He said simply, setting my bag and paddle next to him on the couch before reaching for the button on my jeans. I reached quickly to cover it.
“No wait!”
“I know you don’t think you’re going to get to keep your pants for this. How are little boys like you spanked?”
Another question I knew the answer to, “Bare.” I said quickly, rushing to get out my point, “But. But Logan. They’ll see my… my uh, underwear.”
“We know you’re wearing diapers,” Wes said dismissively from behind me.
I turned my head and goggled at him and Logan used the opportunity to reach forward, push my hands out of the way and start working on my button.
As he did so, Eli said, “You’ve been wearing them full time for like a year now, man. You thought they weren’t going to notice forever? They’re pretty thick.”
“Plus,” Wes said, as Logan got my button undone and pulled my fly open, “Your waistband peaks over the back of your pants like… all the time. It’s hard to miss.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?!” I asked, embarrassed somehow more than I was.
“Why would we?” Wes said, simply, “We don’t comment when Malik wears panties.” Malik turned red at that, “It’s just your underwear.”
Logan pushed down my pants all of a sudden and suddenly I was standing there in just a thermal, t-shirt, and thick diaper with a dragon print on it. I squirmed in embarrassment.
“Stay still.” Logan swatted my thigh lightly and then stuck two fingers in the front of my diaper near my leg, “Okay, turn around,” I did and was suddenly face to face with my other friends while Logan pulled the waistband of my diaper back to check me. I could feel like my face was about to burn off. The twins were leaned up against a wall, watching with vague, casual interest. Malik was standing there a bit uncomfortably and Eli was holding him still with a hand on the back of his neck, stroking lightly with his thumb. When Malik saw me looking, he forced a quick smile and mouthed, “We’re okay.” at me and gave me a quick thumbs up.
I grimaced back.
Logan used slight pressure on my legs to tell me that he wanted me to turn back to face him. I did, shifting my legs carefully with my ankles tangled up in my jeans.
“Clean and dry.” Logan said, putting bit of that saccharine praise into his tone, “Good! We can keep you in the same diaper. I’d hate to add extra to what you have coming.”
I somehow got redder. I’m not allowed to ask for diaper changes. Heck. I’m not even allowed to say what the state of my diaper is. I have to submit to diaper checks. Which are always embarrassing affairs.
Early on in this regime, Peter realized that I was acting out in little ways to get a hand spanking. And since my spankings were always on the bare (a rule from before Peter switched me to diapers full time), I had managed to get changes when I was stuck in a wet or especially messy diaper I had wanted out of. So now, if I got a change because I was punished, I got an extra punishment of 10 extra hard strokes with either a paddle or belt after the punishment for whatever I’d done. Even if it was only a hand spanking to start with.
The fact that Logan knew that made me squirm and strain and reached down into that place again where I felt seen.
Logan pushed his thumbs in the sides of my diaper, slowly working it down below my butt. He ignored my small cage where my dick was trying to strain against the bars despite the whole situation. He left my diaper sitting bunched up below my ass. Just the way Peter did.
“Okay, over you go, kiddo.” Logan said, using a hand on my thigh and another on my wrist to guide me over his knee, with my chest resting on his couch, sliding his free leg over my legs to lock me in, he shifted me forward a bit to raise my ass all the way up. At the indignity of it all, I whimpered. I glanced out at the room. That was a mistake. My friends were all watching the show with rapt expressions. I decided that I needed to stare at the couch and absolutely nothing else. Maybe if I ignored them, the embarrassment would go away.
“So.” Logan said conversationally as he reached over and grabbed the paddle that sat on his other side. “Do you want to tell me why you’re getting punished, little boy?”
This was another Peter rule. I knew most subs who got punished had to explain why. I got to choose. While a lot of the time it was worse just getting a lecture, sometimes opening my mouth and admitting how I’d broken my incredibly infantile rules was just too humiliating. I generally considered a privilege that Peter let me out of it. Apparently Logan did too.
I shook my head. No way was I indicting myself in front of all of my friends.
“That’s okay, I can do it for you.” Logan said, confirming he was following Peter’s playbook. “You’re getting punished because you crossed the street without holding a grown up’s hand; when I told you to give me your hand, you slapped it away and stomped away from me even though I’m the one Peter put in charge of supervising you. After I caught up with you you fought and cursed me and threw a little tantrum the whole way back here? Am I missing anything?”
Eli spoke up from where he was hanging out with Malik, “He also threw another little fit up here when you called him on it.”
“Shut the fuck up, Eli,” I hissed and then immediately squealed as the paddle slammed into my right butt cheek and then my left with a sudden bite. The rubber paddle is stingy as hell but still carries a lot of weight to it.
“And not quite done with his tantrum even now.” Logan said, swatting me several more times and getting me to hiss and breathe heavily some more, “We done with the cursing and back talk now, buddy?”
I seethed and refused to respond.
Logan gave me a few more hard swats with the paddle.
“Fine! Yes! I’m done!” I said desperately.
“Great, now we can start on your punishment.”
I made a wordless whine at that.
I was already pretty far down the subspace rabbit hole by the time Logan started back up with the paddle. I was whimpering and whining through Logan’s first trip around my ass.
Logan seemed to have a census taker approach to spanking. Starting on one side, he’d spank in a circuit, each swat continuing in an ever tighter spiral trail around my ass ensuring he had gotten everywhere at least once.
And then he started another circuit.
By the time he returned to the already well-swatted part again, I was fully down. An embarrassingly high pitched and mournful, “nooooo…” escaped my lips before I started alternating apologies and pleas for mercy.
“Thank you for your sorries, little boy,” Logan continued in his deep, calm voice, while still bringing the damn paddle down “But you’ve been very naughty today, so your butt’s gotta get a bit more red before we’re done.”
I scrabbled my arms against the couch and tried to rear up instinctively, but Logan had a hand on my back pushing me back down. I could feel the tears leaking out and I rapidly descended into sobs over the course of the third and fourth circuits of my ass.
After he finished the fifth I was just laying there limply weeping. He put the paddle down next to my head and let me cry for a while while he rubbed my back. Eventually my sobs slowed to just hitching breath. At that point he tapped my hip lightly and said, “Okay, Tanner, raise up for me.”
I nodded into the couch - wet from my tears - and raised my hips off his lap so he could shimmy my diaper back into place. The bulk contained the heat radiating off my ass uncomfortably. But the padding also gave me a comforting feeling of safety. Logan then levered me up to sit on his lap. I whimpered a little bit as the pressure rested on my sore butt, but accepted my hugs while I nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
“Sorry, Logan, for throwing a tantrum and breaking my rules.” I whispered into his ear.
“Aw.” Logan cooed, “Thank you, Tanner for the apology. You’re forgiven. Though you should apologize to the others for disrupting our time together.”
“Sorry, guys.” I said weakly.
Malik spoke up then, “It’s alright, Tanner, we get it.”
The twins nodded.
I knew that Malik was mostly a scene-oriented sub, not needing the kind of lifestyle control and caste status that I both loved and hated and definitely relied on. But I figured he’d probably at least kind of got the way sometimes I needed to act up and get punished better than the doms did. Though, I guess Wes was supposedly a bit of a switch, so maybe he did, too.
“Okay,” Logan said decisively, “So we’re going to wrap up with 30 minutes time out on the floor next to me while everybody else gets out the console so we can get started.”
I wilted a little at that, but reached down to gather my pants, still bunched at my ankles. Logan reached out a hand.
“Nope.” Logan said, “I think you don’t need those pants for time out.”
I flushed with embarrassment. I looked at him with my best possible puppy dog eyes.
“No, Tanner.” Logan said firmly, “If being seen as little is what drove this little tantrum, we’re going to help you get used to being seen as little. Pants off.”
With that he leaned over and grabbed my jeans, worming them off my legs. He then gently helped me off his lap and guided me down to sit my padded, spanked butt on the floor, my legs criss-cross applesauce.
“Alright, sit, be good. I’m not putting you in the corner for your time out because I want to keep an eye on you, but I want you to sit quiet until I tell you to get up. Okay?”
I nodded, happy I didn’t have to go to the corner. I tried to ignore the silence of everybody still lined up near the door watching my punishment. After a quick beat, Wes nodded decisively, “Alright, that’s done, let’s get the console out and get FIFA loaded up.”
Malik smiled and started fiddling with wires attached to the television.
Soon the guys were loudly cheering while I sat quietly next to Logan’s legs. I was still insanely embarrassed, but nobody was focusing too much on me and every now and again, Logan would card a hand through my hair before encouraging me to lean against his legs for a bit.
I don’t know how long I sat there, quietly ignored, but entirely exposed before I came back to myself. My buddies glanced at me every now and then, but mostly they smiled lightly and then went back to the game. It was nice, I felt safe but embarrassed and somehow, those two together felt like I was okay. Part of the group, and yet apart and beneath it. And that was okay.
What pulled me out of that happy space was a pretty sudden and immediate need. I had to piss. Now, normally, I’d just go. But it was hard to pee sitting down flat. Even after a year of diapers full time, the pressure of sitting flat on a hard service made it really annoying to get a stream started. I could do it, but it usually took some shifting to get into a position where the tubes could open properly if I concentrated.
Worse, I really had to go. It had virtually come out of nowhere. That wasn’t that strange to me. While fully losing your toilet training was basically solely the realm of littles’ fantasies without the kinds of body mods that get you locked up in the state pen, you could absolutely condition yourself to lowered awareness. After over two years in Peter’s care, it was not rare that the need to pee snuck up on me.
I knew I wasn’t going to last any length of time without being in a large amount of pain from my bladder. I tried to shift carefully and get a comfortable position, but I just couldn’t make it work with all the guys around me. As I was pulled out of the floaty sub space by the physical pressure, I felt their little glances and smiles not as affectionate friendship, but subtle mockery. It made it harder to already make a hard position work.
I needed to get off my butt. I knew Logan wouldn’t tolerate me standing up, but I thought maybe I could get away with kneeling. I carefully shifted, hyper aware of Logan’s attention on me. Feeling like I was getting away with something, I managed to kneel up, and with a bit of concentration, get the already very painful twinge of my bladder to release.
Ah. It felt so good to let it out. The warmth spread out rapidly around my balls and thighs into my diaper and started to push towards the back. It always felt amazing, even when I was in high school and sneaking diapers into my parents’ place because I didn’t want them to know I was little.
“Hey, Mal,” Wes was stage-whispering into Malik’s ear, as he stared at me, “What do you think Tanner’s up to over there?”
Malik looked over at me and smiled a tiny bit.
Wes continued, “You think he’s messing his diaper?”
Malik giggled at that and nodded and that was just about all I could take.
“No I’m not!” I said hotly.
Wes and Malik’s eyes widen and I suddenly notice the room has gone quiet. The game is paused. I look around where Logan is pulling a very disappointed face.
“Aw, Tanner, bud. We talked about this. No speaking for little boys in time out. And you were almost done, too.” My eyes went wide. “Did you already forget what you are? Do you need a reminder?”
I shook my head desperately, careful to keep my mouth shut.
“I think you’ve been misusing your mouth and forgetting yourself all day, and again even after getting punished for it. I think we need to do some more discipline. But you’ve already been paddled pretty hard. So let’s try something else.”
I made an inquiring whimper.
“Shush, you’ll find out in a second. Malik, could you grab my cup, two straps, and a pair of shorts? You know where they are.”
“Sure, Logan.” Malik nodded and dashed out of the room.
Strap? Was he going to use a strap on me? I thought he was worried about spanking me again after my paddling.
“So here’s what we’re going to do. I’m resetting your time out time and you’re going to try to do it again.” I made a small whimper at that, “But we’re going to give you some help, both in keeping quiet and remembering your place, okay?”
I didn’t know what to do, since I wasn’t allowed to talk, so I just nodded.
“Great!” Logan said with saccharin cheer, “And here’s Mal back with my tools. Thanks, Malik.”
Malik handed a small bundle of cloth to Logan and sat back on the other couch with the twins. Wes quickly wrapped an arm around him, as if to comfort him.
I watched in apprehension as Logan set the bundle down next to him on the couch and grabbed two jockstraps—ah straps, duh—out of the bundle. “Now, Malik grabbed these out of my gym bag and I haven’t had time to do a wash in…” he sucks in a breath, “A while.”
He taps the side of my mouth, “Open.” He orders and I do so, sticking my tongue out. I am at a point in my headspace where I absolutely do not want to invite more punishment. My ass twinges still a the thought.
“So,” Logan said philosophically as he brings one of the jocks up to my open mouth. I smell it before he presses it inside and I can tell he’s worn it more than once before stuffing it in his bag. The moment it’s in my mouth I can taste the old sweat soaked into the fabric. I want to gag. But Logan continues talking, “I was thinking. You’re having a lot of trouble handling your place today. I think it’s partially because you’re so used to pretending to be a real man, like us. We just need to keep helping you remember your place, little boy.”
As he said this, he began stuffing the second jock into my mouth alongside its brother. The first jock had only kind of filled my mouth but with two, I was thoroughly gagged even with the ends of the straps still sticking out.
Logan was still talking, “So, that’s what we’re going to do.” As he said this he was taking the last bit of cloth, a pair of black compression shorts, and stuffing into a hand-sized piece of plastic that I eventually managed to recognize as an athletic cup. The cup had four leather straps dangling from it, attached by what looked like snaps.
Logan saw me looking, “The straps are removable for when I wear it for rugby games, but I got this version special for subduing sub boys like you.” Having filled the cup with his third piece of athletic underwear, he pulled the cup up to my head so it covered my nose and lower face. Then, holding it in place, he did up the straps behind my head - a pair above and a pair below, tightening until the cup was flush against my face and the compression shorts were pushed tightly against my nose and mouth.
The shorts combined with the cup smelled overwhelmingly of sweat and maybe a bit of something closer to sex. The shorts were packed tightly enough against my face that I didn’t think even if I tried I could push the mass of jock out of my mouth. The bulk of the two jocks together pushed the pouches down onto my tongue. As my spit got them wetter and wetter, more of the taste seeped out into my mouth. It was shocking and surrounded me from all sides and already sent me spiraling.
I felt a hand on my ass and crotch, and then he said, “Good. Okay, be good and kneel here and think about your wet—and they are only wet, Wes—diapers and the difference between your underwear and what a man like me wears. Think about it and accept that we’re adult men and you’re a little boy who failed to grow up. And that’s all you’ll ever be. And that’s okay. We’re still your friends and we always will be. But it’s time to stop pretending we’re the same. You’re different from us and need to be treated differently. Understand.”
I managed a vague nod as his words and the humiliation send me deep down into space where I can only feel small and submissive and humbled. I float there, happy. The guys eventually go back to their game. I can see Malik checking on me more often. Looking kind of guilty. I hope he doesn’t feel too bad. He didn’t get me in trouble. I know how to behave in time out. I just forgot myself with my friends.
It’s hard to be small with them, but Logan is helping. His hand, still carding through my hair is also helping.
I don’t know how long I stay in that safe small place, sitting in my wet diaper, smelling Logan’s musk and tasting his sweat.
Eventually the straps on the cup loosen and Logan pulls it away from my face, the compression shorts going with them. Then he gently guides me to open my mouth and pulls out the jocks. He takes a soft grip on my chin and directly my face up to his calm face. I’m still pretty floaty, but I’m coming up slowly.
“Hey, there, Tanner, you’re done with your time out. You did so well!” I smiled back at him a bit dopily, “You have anything you’d like to say to me?”
I nodded, I knew what I was supposed to do, “Thank you for punishing me, Logan, and reminding me of my place.”
“You’re welcome buddy!” Logan said, seeming genuinely happy, “You feeling better, now?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
“Good. I’m happy you were able to settle a bit. I think you just needed to know we could handle you being the little boy you are.” I blushed a bit at that and Logan smiled, “That’s okay! I’m happy I was able to do that for you. You feel up enough to play with us?”
I nodded and he patted the couch next to him and I levered myself up slowly to settle in. He put his arm around me, pulling me into him a bit before handing me a controller.
“Thank God you’re back up,” Wes cried, “You’ve got to stop Eli’s rampage! He’s won three games in a row and somebody needs to stop the madness.”
“You just can’t stand how badly I beat all of you in to the ground without even trying.” Eli said mockingly from the other couch.
Logan was about to respond when I tugged his shirt lightly to get his attention before the game started, “Uh, Logan?”
“Yeah, Bud.” Logan said, matching my quiet volume.
“Do you think I could put my pants back on?” I asked, trying to put every ounce of good boy energy I had into the request.
Logan put his finger to his chin, “Hmmm.” He pretended to think, “Nah.” I grimaced and he continued, “I think it would be good for you to stay like that til Peter comes and picks you up. I want you to know we see all of you and everything is still okay. Got it?”
I nodded and sat back a bit as the game finally got going. In the end, he was the responsible adult in charge of me right now and so it was his decision. And that was okay.
The cheering started after I got my first goal. So I sat on the couch in just a t-shirt and my wet diaper and proceeded to kick Eli’s ass all the way back to next week.
I was a little boy. I was going to be treated like that all the time, now. And my friends knew it. And everything was still okay. And that’s what finally got me grinning at the end of the game.
Well that and the look on Eli’s stupid face.