Esmay delighted me. 

I had to admit–I’d initially spent time with her largely to keep an eye on Louis, and to play the role of service top. Esmay had little experience with a partner who cared about her needs, let alone safe words, and I felt a responsibility to ensure that my stunt with her partner wouldn’t lead to more unhealthy patterns developing.

However, though I didn’t push for things to go past what she wanted, my heart still jumped whenever she directed a booty call my way. I didn’t even care about the sex all that much–the preceding dates were becoming highlights of my week. She was wicked smart and had a whip-crack sense of humor–clever and quick, in all the ways that could make me smile. 

And, in fairness, I enjoyed watching Louis squirm. Knowing how much he’d been taking advantage of his position before, how much he’d been taking advantage of Esmay. My punishment wasn’t justice, it wasn’t fair, but a little malicious part of me enjoyed watching him squirm when I walked past with his wife, while he had to give me puppy-dog eyes and whimper to change his diaper. 

He’d occasionally made a show of joining me and Esmay when we had nights out, but that ended after one too many public poopy accidents, after I’d made a show of checking his dirty bottom in the bar, after he’d been left sulking in the car because Esmay and I wouldn’t call it a night early after his humiliation. 

Now, he stayed at home, sulking, sending me desperate texts when he needed diaper changes–texts that I routinely ignored. Call me malicious, I just loved to come back to his home, pinch my nose to comment on how badly he’d ruined his diapers, and then whisk Esmay off to make her scream in pleasure without letting him change. 

Still, one sultry, sweaty night, after our roll in the bed, Louis banished to stink up the living room while she got her pleasure and I got my satisfaction, she finally brought it up.

“Can I ask you about Louis?” she asked, laying on the bed next to me. 

I knew the question, but I dodged anyway. Perhaps because I felt a bit of guilt at overdoing it, or perhaps just for the sake of the game. “What about him?” 

“I looked at your profile on Fet more,” Esmay said. She was naked, with only a thin sheet tangled around her legs, letting the air cool her skin. “You are big into hypnotism play–mind control. Consensually taking someone’s control away. Did Louis ask you to do that?” 

There were a couple ways I could answer. I chose simple honesty that deflected my guilt. “No, he didn’t.”

“But you hypnotized him anyways,” Esmay said. “Didn’t you?” 

No getting around it. I rolled onto my side, looking at her. “Yes, I did.” 

She looked at me. “Because you thought he was a creep.” 

“He was a creep,” I said. “I saw how he talked about you. How he regarded the kink community.”

“Mmm,” she said, thinking about it. “But he didn’t ask for it.”

“He didn’t,” I confirmed. Guilt twisted in my chest–consent was the bedrock of our community, and no matter how much I enjoyed it, what I’d done to Louis violated that. Even if I hadn’t done anything to him directly, it still counted in my head.

“So you can hypnotize someone who doesn’t want it,” Esmay said. 

I saw where her thoughts were going. “I can, but…” I started. “I shouldn’t.”

She looked at me. “You shouldn’t. But do you want to?”

Swallowing, I glanced away, thinking of how much I enjoyed watching Louis wriggle in his diapers. “I…shouldn’t want to.”

“Because,” she continued. “I can think of a lot more fun things to do to him. I’d like to do more things to him. Could you show me how to do that?” 

Esmay wanted it, and Esmay didn’t accuse me of doing wrong by doing what I’d done to Louis. Further, I knew how cunning she could be–I wanted to see what she’d make of him. “Sure,” I agreed. 

…

It was slow going, at first–Esmay was a quick study, but we were working with an unwilling practice dummy. Most hypnotists learned on a participant eager to have their thoughts stolen. For Esmay to learn from Louis, I first had to get into his head again, compelling him to sit perfectly still on command, to watch her.

So, Louis would sit on the floor, legs spread, diaper on display, while Esmay swayed my watch back and forth. At first, her commands were simple–making him sit down or stand up on command. Pavlovian reactions, little more.

But then, she started making it fun. 

She undid a bit of my work, allowing Louis to get hard, but not to cum. Then, she made it so he’d have to sit at the end of the bed, rubbing himself through his diapers whenever Esmay and I fucked in his bed. 

Hearing him whimper was pleasure untold. 

I’d taken his potty training, but she did one worse. Forcing him to evacuate his bowels whenever it was most inconvenient, most humiliating, making him unaware of how soggy he was until someone pointed it out. With my permission, she took over when he could ask for diaper changes. If I was malicious in making him wait, she was downright cruel. 

My little Esmay was quite the sadist, it seemed. She liked it when he was at his lowest, and I helped her facilitate that at every turn.

Slowly, more things started to change. His Fet profile was no longer ‘SirDominant7’, Louis was now, ‘DiaperCuck14’. I still cringed at the unoriginality, but at least the unoriginality was pathetic, and came with new profile photos, showing off his degradation. 

I started noticing other changes, too. Louis became her live-in servant. At home, he did her chores. When I came over, if he wasn’t left humiliated and helpless for me to gawk at, he was sweeping or doing dishes or tidying. As often as not, he was doing those things in a drooping, exposed diaper, despite the open windows.

Maybe she’d gone too far–this had gone from humiliation to full control–but she was Esmay, and I really, really didn’t like Louis. Watching how he was dropped a peg with every visit was thrilling, as Esmay found lower and lower places to push him each time, digging deep to drop the pegs.

She showed him off to her friends, even when I wasn’t there. She brought a few other men over, which was fine by me–we were never monogamous with one another, and the more who could laugh at Louis’s pathetic pamper packing, the better.

There was one line I wouldn’t cross. One night, she tried to bring him into our bed, to make him suck my cock–I said no. Esmay was disappointed. She protested. But I held fast to the one rule I’d kept–I wouldn’t use him for sex. 

Three months after I told her the truth, and almost four since I’d first met her, I came to her home and found Louis grinding in his diaper in the living room floor, suckling his thumb with one hand, rubbing on an erection through tented, sodden padding with the other. Changing supplies sat right next to him, a fresh diaper and powder, but for Louis, they may as well have been an eternity away. I smirked down at him.

“There you are,” Esmay said, walking in with a smile. “Good–I wanted to show you something.”

“How long has he been like this?” I asked, nodding to Louis. 

“A few hours,” She smiled wickedly. “I wanted his brain to be helpless mush before my next session–I have something wonderful planned.”

“What is it?” I asked.

I should have known.

Stupid.

Stupid.

“A surprise,” she replied. “Just watch.”

She sat next to Louis, and I sat next to her, and she began the induction. She started from scratch–not necessary, for someone as scrambled as Louis, but if she wanted to do things right I could understand the discipline.

And then she snapped her fingers.

Said “Drop”.

And I dropped.

By the time I realized my mind had fuzzed, it was too late. I’d been listening to her words. I’d seen her watch–my watch–dangling in the corner of my eyes. Maybe I’d looked at it. Maybe I’d stared.

But I’d fallen into her hands.

Esmay looked at me, giggling. I just sat there, unable to move, only able to watch and listen as she crawled onto me, pushed me down to the floor, pinning my immobile body down with her hands and staring me in the face. 

“You,” she said, “Aren’t going to tell a soul about this, my little one. Because I realized–what’s the fun in having just one plaything when I could have two? No more saying ‘No’, no more telling me what I can’t do with my toys, just two little stinkers who have to do whatever I tell them.”

(No. She wouldn’t–) but I knew she would. I’d seen how far she could go with Louis. 

“You’re going to forget everything you know about hypnosis,” she said, sliding her hands down to my jeans, unzipping them, pulling them away. “That control is mine now. You just need to know how to obey instructions.” 

My boxers came next, so I was naked, and Esmay continued her monologue. “You’re going to be just…like…Louis. You’ll sit when I tell you. You’ll stay. You’ll beg. No big boy squirties for you, just a tiny, hard cock grinding into your diapers. You’ll potty when I tell you, and you won’t even notice until someone else points out how bad you smell.” 

She picked up a diaper–one that I’d assumed had been for Louis–and slid it beneath my hips.

“You’ll do whatever I say,” she said. “You’ll be all mine, really. You won’t be able to change your own diapers at all–you’ll have to beg and whimper and ask me to let you have fresh diapers, and then I’ll make Louis change you. But don’t worry, you’ll be allowed to return the favor.”

Giggling, she folded the diaper around my limp cock, rubbing the front of the padding. I twitched, involuntarily–the contact did it for me, even as my heart pounded in horror.

She taped the diaper onto me, pulled away, and smiled. “I think that’s enough for now. I can always go back into your head and change whatever else I need, of course. When I snap my fingers, you’ll do your best to make your diaper match Louis’s, and feel all your little ‘big boy’ thoughts of resistance melt away. 

She snapped.

I obeyed.

Pulling my legs up to my chest, I grunted, squeezed, and felt the seat of my diaper swell, the plastic back crinkling as solid, smelly mush ballooned my padding. My bladder released, almost as an afterthought, and I turned the yellow indicator strip blue all along the front, completely unable to resist.

Esmay giggled, pointing at Louis, then at me. “Now…you two, kiss.”

We were hers to command. Getting to my knees, I shuffled forward, putting my lips on his. We were both repulsed, hating each other as much as two people reasonably could, but our bodies did as they had to. My lips against his, my dick getting hard inside my diaper.

“Good, good.” She snickered. “Grind on each other, too–rub each other, try to get desperate.”

His body slipped close to mine, arms wrapped around each other, rubbing the tents of our sodden diapers together. Already I wanted to explode from the need to release, and my body simply refused–it wouldn’t let me, even as I felt on the edge of orgasm. 

“Good.” She got to her feet, laughing down at us, sneering, pinching her nose. “Okay, you two stink, so I’m going to get out of here–I’ve got a date with a real man. You stay like this, and when I get back, maybe–maybe–I’ll let you watch what it’s like to have sex. God knows that’s as close as either of you are ever going to get.”