Tissue of Lies (Commission)

Thanks this month to our Gold-tier patron PJChloro for commissioning this one!

***

"Oh, my – what a soggy little boy we have here! Any longer, and your nappy would be falling right off your sweet little bum! Now hold still for Auntie and let her clean you up. You're going to feel so much better once you've been changed…"

Alex writhed impotently beneath the flood of condescending baby-talk, his words of protest choked into silence behind the giant pacifier filling his mouth. God, how humiliating this all was! Sure, it wasn't the first time being changed by his crazy landlady – and it certainly didn't look to be his last. But that bit about it making him feel better? That was a damned lie, he knew well. God knew how much longer he'd be trapped here, but he was never going to get over the mortification of lying like this: helpless atop this giant changing table, arms securely cuffed to the railings, bare legs splayed open and his urine-soaked crotch on full display as this lady set to work changing his sodden nappy.

How the bloody hell had it ever come to this?

Perhaps it was inevitable to dissociate from such an embarrassing situation. His eyes squeezed shut as he lay still, his mind drifting back to the day he'd first encountered the ad that had spelled his doom. "Tired of pricey flats and noisy mates? Miss Smythe has a room for you – all necessities included! Call…" And there had been the phone number. So simple. So straightforward. So very tempting.

And so he'd called. Heaven knew he'd had enough of his neighbors and their boozy parties. He had life after college to think about, too – and he needed to save every penny he could. So what if the lady who'd picked up the phone had seemed oddly sweet and overbearing? If he could put up with party-throwing, booze-chugging, drug-dabbling flatmates, he sure as hell could put up with some maternal old grandma…

Though grandma she most certainly was not. The stammer he thought he'd left behind in Year Four of school had resurfaced unexpectedly as the stately brunette had greeted him at the door. She was beautiful: not more than forty, for sure, with a figure any MILF would envy and a lilting voice that sent prickles of unaccountable pleasure and anxiety rippling up his slim arms. She'd beamed and drawn him inside: a wad of thick, white paper handkerchiefs held delicately in one hand, while her other arm slipped gently around him as she escorted him toward the room she had to offer. Oh, he was going to love it here, she assured him. He'd absolutely love it here…

Another lie, of course.

Maybe she had come on a little strong. But bloody hell – between the cheap price and the sexy landlady, he hadn't thought very long before duly signing the lease. Because why ever not? He could put up with someone calling him "luv" and coaxing cups of tea into him at every turn. He had put up with a lot more for a lot less.

Oh, but if only he'd known where it all would lead!

He writhed silently as the blurry memories flashed before his sight. That Friday night he'd stumbled back home, more drunk than not. The sound of the landlady's voice and her strangely strong, smooth arms guiding him up the stairs. The soft touch of the cotton pillow… and the even softer, rustling brush of tissues across his face and around his nose. A strangely sweet scent… before it all had gone black.

How he'd struggled when he first woke! How he'd panicked as his consciousness had slowly come back to reality to find himself strapped snugly down onto a weird new bed: not the bed he'd been given previously, but a new, higher and smaller version, around which rows of bars circled like some giant crib. How he'd shuddered at the sensation of the cuffs strapped tightly around each hand and foot, and at the smooth leather collar circling his neck. How he'd tugged and pulled in vain, whimpering and gurgling behind the thick wad of paper hankies filling his mouth…

But in the end, of course, he'd been powerless to free himself. His landlord had entered, and bent sweetly over him just as she was now, and explained – while dabbing his sweating forehead with her ever-present hankies – how he hadn't been remotely responsible last night. ("Had he, luv?") "Auntie" knew a naughty, wayward boy when she saw one. Auntie knew precisely what to do to with him. She was going to keep him safe and sound right here with her. She was going to train him to be a good, obedient little darling for her, and he would come to thank her for it…

And then, to his horror, he'd first felt the feathery brush of those rustling paper handkerchiefs against his exposed cock and balls. Because, as Auntie put it in yet another of her smiling lies, he'd proven himself to be nothing but an overgrown little boy – and little boys who weed themselves simply needed nappies.

***

"There, all sorted, luv! What a good boy you are for Auntie! All clean now…"

Alex shivered as the thick white paper handkerchiefs brushed over his defenseless junk once more, and wondered for the hundredth time why on earth his "Auntie" landlady seemed to love them so. She used them everywhere: to wipe his mouth during his bottle and highchair feedings, to dab at his nose, to clean his crotch during changes, to soak with chloroform and force him down into unconsciousness whenever she wanted… even to choke his mouth and silence his desperate cries for help.

And yes, he sighed, as the thick, fresh cotton nappy slid underneath him and his skin settled into yet another pile of the mounded tissues. Yes, she also stuffed his nappies with them. Perhaps she simply meant to bulk out his already-thick nappies and make them even more absorbent. Or perhaps, he had begun to suspect, she did it for no other reason than to use their tantalizingly soft bulk to tease his sensitive and sex-deprived member into impotent arousal.

For aroused he certainly was right now, despite everything. And as he cracked open his eyes and blinked helplessly up into Auntie's knowing smile, she reached down and clasped one hankie-filled hand firmly around his erection.

"Poor baby has a stiffie, doesn't he? He loves his nappies so much he can't help but get hard, hmm?" Her hand clenched and slid teasingly up and down his modest length, and a gurgling whimper escaped him in response. "Aww, you like that? Of course you do! Here, let Auntie help make you feel better. You're going to love this, luv…"

Another lie. Surely.

He'd lost track of time here, of course. He had no idea how long it had been since he'd had a good wank. So sex-starved as he was, it seemed hardly a minute before he was whimpering and grunting softly into the wadding within his clenching jaws, helpless against the divine sensation of those thick hankies and Auntie's teasing fingers. God- fuck- felt so good- Oh, how he wanted to resist! How he wanted to scream out that this was wrong – that being jerked off by your psychotic landlady was not remotely sexy – that the bonds and nappies and chloroform were all so horrific that no one in their right mind could allow themselves to- to- hhnnnggghhh…

As his muscles convulsed in helpless orgasm and the spurts of thick cum jetted out and into the waiting paper hankies, Auntie's sweet laugh rang through the room. "Aww, good baby! Such a good little baby for Auntie, luv. Go on, make a lovely sticky mess for me…"

He was in no position to object – not even when those deft fingers pressed his now-wilting penis down into the mound of cum-spattered, thick white tissues and began pulling the bulky cotton nappy closed over top. "There now, luv. All better," came her smiling voice over his muffled gasps. "See? Auntie told you you'd get used to your new nappies. Give it time, luv, and you'll come to love them!"

As the sticky, tissue-filled nappy pulled tight around his waist, and as Alex felt the last shreds of his dignity crumbling within, the horrified realization dawned in his brain.

Auntie's last words might not actually have been a lie at all.