One day you’re going to wake up, feeling groggy, and slowly realize that you can’t move. That you can’t see. That your mouth is covered, and full of rubber. As you struggle, trying to move your arms from your chest, pulling at the cuffs on your ankles, whimpering through your gag, you realize that you feel a thick wetness between your legs, and you can hear it crinkling. Then you hear a door open, and a low, familiar voice.
“Good morning, princess. I hope you slept well. Let’s get you changed into a fresh diaper, hmm?”
Sometimes the only way to shut me up is to tie my hands behind my back, stick a candle in my ass and wrap a pissed soaked diaper around my head. Can’t hear my whining if it’s muffled.