The Glory Hole Devil (Diapered Daddy) Written by: Hunter Dean https://kinkwear.shop/collections/erotica
Five years of torture will lead a man to the darkest places in the world--years of bullying, humiliation, and punishment. Austin couldn't understand why he thought an urban legend would make his life any better than standing up to his stepfather. Still, Austin thought he would have better luck believing in supernatural force than growing a backbone--as pathetic as that sounded.
The abandoned rest stop was off Interstate 64, on an irreparable offramp. Nature overtook the concrete building. Vines and plants stretched along its sides. Overgrown grass grew through the cracked pavement and over the sidewalks. Electricity still powered the few unshattered lights on the grounds, forgotten by the city. The gate that once blocked entry was broken, beckoning him forward like a witch's finger. Daring him to make a choice he would possibly regret.
The insides were worse than the outside. Wildlife hid the ugliness of the building while the inside displayed it fully. The smell hit him first--a combination of waste, piss, and mold. The tiles were cracked. The mirrors were shattered. The fixtures broken or entirely removed by vandals. Graffiti covered all the walls in many colors, words, and symbols. Two urinals hung on the wall closest to the entrance, and three stalls next to those. As the Redditt post instructed, Austin went to the middle stall, the only stall with a door. His fingers brushed the latch, feeling the grim transfer to his fingertips. He regretted not bringing gloves or sanitizing wipes. Using his foot, Austin nudged the door open. The inside was just as the blogger wrote: wall-to-wall graffiti, a toilet overflowing with piss, and a glory hole large enough to fit a Coke bottle.
Austin sighed. He felt like a fool. A cursed glory hole that could make any wish come true if he was willing to pay the price. That's what the blogger wrote. Why would he ever believe such a thing to be true? But his disbelief didn't stop him from walking forward into the stall. The door swung behind him and hit the latch with a loud clang.
"Jesus Christ," He said, feeling his heart race beneath his shirt. "I can't believe I am doing this." Austin pulled his marker out and read the names scrawled all around the glory hole--the layers of various names, colors, and handwriting. At least a hundred names encircled the hole, flowing away from it like ripples of water. Could this many people have come here and wished for revenge? Could this many people have been tricked by a post written by some deranged blogger?
"Write the name on the wall. Make a wish for revenge. And if your pain is great enough, your wish will be granted if you pay the price."
Austin wasn't sure what the price would be, but he couldn't return home. He couldn't endure another night with his stepfather. The way he treated Austin like his personal bitch. A baby that he could throw around for fun. He didn't know the price, but his pound of flesh was paid in the years he had spent with his stepfather, but if it ended, Austin would pay more.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Austin asked as he wrote his stepfather's name on the wall. "Ron Waddell." He thought of his memories--all the horrible, torturous moments imprinted on his life. Austin didn't hate his stepfather. He loathed him. From the first moment they met, he wanted him out of his life; on Austin's darkest nights, he wanted him dead.
He capped his marker, and the lights within the rest stop flickered. The darkness jolted him, causing him to drop his marker. Luckily, the light came back as quickly as it disappeared. Austin looked at the faraway light and the flicking filament. It wasn't supernatural, just bad wiring. He sighed. The rest stop lights flickered, but he did not react. He felt ridiculousness.
"Can't believe I fell for it." He shook his head, went to the door, and pushed. It didn't open. He jiggled the lock, trying to force the metal to slide. It wouldn't budge. "Of course." Austin stepped back and looked at the wall. There was space under the stall. He would have to crawl. The thought irked him, but calling for help was a worse idea. Regrettably, he got on his knees and looked.
Two legs, clad in dark denim, stood at the entry of the rest top. Frozen and silent.
"Oh, thank god. I'm stuck in here. Can you give me a hand, please?" No response. "Hello?"
A knot formed in Austin's stomach, and the stranger's continued silence made it grow. The light flickered again, and the legs moved forward, walking into the stall beside his. Austin backed into the further wall, staring at the shiny black boots. Austin looked at the glory hole and the man's plump crotch. The cock and balls beneath stretched the jeans and made the zipper strain.
"You called. And I answered." The stranger's voice dragged along Austin's spine, awakening every hair and sense. The smell of musk and sulfur overtook the space. Through the hole, Austin watched the zipper's teeth come undone. "You called for me, and I will grant your wish." The man's voice was hot, like fire, warming the space with every syllable. Austin's cheeks flushed as something sparked within him.
What was this? Fear? Arousal? Something woke within Austin as he watched the teeth of the zipper release. His pants fell to the flow. The sight of the partially naked stranger turned the spark into a flame--a flame that filled his bones and made his crotch ache with a need to release, to enjoy, to worship.
"Who . . ." Austin swallowed the next word, feeling it become a moan. He tried again. "What are you?"
The stranger laughed, and the room trembled. "I am revenge," he answered, groping his crotch. The bulge swelled. "I am retribution." His hand moved along his length. His cock hardened, pushing against the restraint of his underwear. Precum seeped through the fabric and darkened the tip. "I'm the protector of the weak and the condemner of the oppressors." His thumbs hooked into his waistband and dragged the underwear down. "Pay your price, and I shall grant your wish. I shall wreak havoc on whose name you have offered me." He pulled slowly, revealing every inch of his cock--his thick, veiny, meaty cock. His underwear snapped beneath his low-hanging balls. He walked forward, pushing his cock through the glory hole, encompassing nearly the entire space.
"God," Austin gasped, eyeing the massive dick throbbing before him. Drool leaked from his lips as a bead of cum formed at the cockhead. The droplet grew and drained to the underside of his shaft, waiting for Austin to take it.
"Exactly." The stranger laughed. "Now worship at my altar, and your prayer shall be answered."
Austin licked his lips and edged closer to the wall, staring at the cock. He pursed his full lips and kissed the tip. The hot cum burned. It became liquid fire as it filled his mouth and drained down his throat, compelling Austin's cock to full attention. The stranger pushed forward, and Austin's lips stretched. The cock eased deeper into his mouth, filling his jaws with just the first few inches. Austin's eyes narrowed on the shaft, watching as the inches disappeared in his mouth. His mouth widened, stretched as the man's cock wormed its way further into him. The stranger's spongy head pressed the back of Austin's throat.
Austin began to pull away, but an invisible leash held him in place. He coughed around the cock as his throat attempted to accommodate the intruder. It was so big. So thick. So domineering. He played with the under-shaft of the cock, wildly licking it as more precum leaked into his throat. He knew he should've fought, but Austin's hands drifted down to his cock, undid his pants, and stroked, feeling so close to orgasm already.
"Worship me," the stranger ordered.
The invisible leash pulled Austin closer to the stall's wall, forcing the stranger's cock into Austin's throat. The erect cock bent slightly, bypassing Austin's tonsils and penetrating deeper than possible. The man pulled Austin forward until his face pressed into the man's crotch. The smell of sweat and sex leaked from him like a cologne. His girthy balls hung against Austin's chin, churning a load that would soon be his.
The stranger purred. "So tight. So virginal. Enjoy the pleasure, my disciple."
Austin's brain begged for air, but his body did not need it. He was high on the scents and the pleasure radiating from the man. He stroked rapidly, feeling his uncut cockhead leak more than ever before. Gushing forth an amount that covered his cock, and his hands spilled onto the floor.
"Relish the pleasure." The stranger commanded before he started to pump his hips back and forth. For just a moment, when the cock was all but pulled from Austin's mouth, he felt empty. Devoid of what gave him meaning and pleasure. But before the cock could withdraw entirely, or the seed of depression could sprout, the stranger plowed his cock back into Austin's mouth, transforming Austin's throat into a proper fuckhole. The moment of immediate fullness forced a deep, aching moan to sound around the man's cock.
Before tonight, Austin had only fantasized about guys. He spent his lonely nights with his hand around his cock and his eyes on the computer screen, jerking and fantasizing for hours about what it would be like to be with a man. To suck their cock. To worship their body. To be filled with their load to the point where it leaked out of him. The stranger's voice stroked the sensitive parts of Austin's body and the kinkiest sections of his mind.
"Accept my load." The walls vibrated with the stranger's words. "Drink, and your wish shall be my command." His thrusts picked up speed, fucking Austin's face. Austin's moans became louder and high-pitched as the thrusts became faster, harder, and sharper. The man's balls pulled up to the underside of his shaft. "Your revenge shall be realized." Austin's fist quickened, stroking in time with his movement. His fist slapped his balls with every stroke. Austin stood at the edge of a cliff, his mounting orgasm pushing him closer and closer over the edge.
Accept, and your revenge shall be made real, the man's voice spoke inside Austin's mind, whispering words of how Austin's revenge will be accomplished. It shall be so sweet. His life shall be ruined. Accept, and my work shall begin.
Austin's throat tightened, griping the man's cock so it bulged within Austin's throat.
I accept it, Austin mentally said.
The thrusting came halted, and the cum flooded Austin's body.
Sweet cum like nectar shot into Austin's mouth. He swallowed what he could, but the load was too fast and too large. Much drained from the corners of his lips and dripped from his chest. The cock pulled from Austin's mouth and shot what remained of his load across Austin's face. The hot load painted Austin's face. Every rope was like a shot of electricity, causing him to jolt and spam. He gazed up and watched the massive black cock unload. Austin jerked furiously, whimpering as his body would not allow him to achieve. The man chuckled in response to Austin's painful moans.
"Cum for me," he whispered from his side of the wall. And Austin's body obeyed. Austin's cock went rigid. His balls tightened. Austin's hand slid one final time along his shaft, and his cock erupted. Streams of cum spewed across his body, the stall, and the floor, adding to the layers of cum and names already painted on the wall.
"Oh, oh, oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck Jesus Christ!" He closed his eyes, feeling every pleasure receptor set aflame. His orgasm seemed never-ending, a continuous plunge that he couldn't control. His hand returned to his cock, milking every drop from himself until his balls went dry. He didn't know how long his orgasm lasted, but when he opened his eyes, the magnificent cock, and the stranger were both gone.
Austin looked at himself, seeing his clothes soaked with cum, and felt it dripping down his face. He wiped away what he could find, swallowing every droplet so as not to let the man's load go to waste. After his body was cleaned and the cum was ingested, Austin tucked away his cock and opened the door, forgetting how moments before, the door wouldn't budge. He left the rest stop, feeling energized. He licked his lips, tasting the stranger's cock, and wanted to taste more.
Even if the urban legend was just a myth, at least he got to suck a cock . . . a glorious cock. One that he would fantasize about for weeks to come.
Ron Waddell stood in the apartment's threshold, scowling at the space. The small, dirty, mildewy property was entirely unfit for a renter, but it was perfect for him. These were the types of properties that Ron loved. He would lowball the seller and threaten to condemn the property if the offer wasn't accepted. His scowl twisted at the corners, becoming something close to a smile but with darker intentions.
"I don't know, seems like it's pretty run down," Ron said, circling the living room. He pressed his hand against the wall. It bounced. The ceiling and floor stains confirmed his suspicions about hidden water damage. He wandered the 600-square-foot apartment, exploring the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom a second and a third time.
Nobody could live here, but that was precisely what Ron wanted. Easy buy. Flip it with minor cosmetic repairs, and rent it for three times the mortgage.
"It has a nice charm, don't you think?" The real estate agent interjection, breaking the silence with his fake cheer and plastered smile.
"I think we could make something work. You are looking to sell as is, correct?
"Yes. But we are open to slight upgrades if the buyer wants to share a portion of the cost."
Ron shook his head. "No need. I think we can agree with its current situation."
The real estate agent exhaled a deep breath. He was thankful to get a buyer--another point on Ron's side of the bargaining table. Clearly, nobody with half a brain would want this place. It would become a money pit with the number of renovations needed to pass an inspection, but Ron had very low friends in very high places that could pass the site for a few bucks.
"I'll send you an offer by the end of the day."
They said their goodbyes, and Ron went to his car, writing out the long list of problems he would use to give them a lowball offer. "Maybe I could get Austin to live in this shit place," he laughed. Two birds with one stone. He would get a renter and get his faggot stepson out of his house--his dead wife's house--but that was just semantics.
Ron checked his calendar. For a moment, he thought this apartment was his last location of the day, but there was one more; a duplex across town, deeper into the city's slums. Ron couldn't remember searching the place online or even writing it down on his schedule, but when he arrived at the spot, he knew it was exactly what he wanted. He made a few quick notes about the exterior, the uneven driveways, the patchy roof, and the slanting windows.
He honked his horn twice. The front door opened, and out stepped a huge black man, waving as Ron stepped out of the vehicle.
"Glad you could make it," the man said as he walked onto the porch.
Ron was a large man, a former linebacker in his college days. Over the years, his frame widened with age. Layers of fat settled around his waist and atop his muscles, enhancing his size. But the agent dwarfed Ron with his size. His shoulders brushed the doorframe with his triangle-shaped upper body. His waist cinched with a belt, making it appear even smaller before it nearly doubled in size with the size of his quads. His polo and dress pants looked ready to burst from the stress of the muscles. Ron felt small--inadequate for the first time, and he didn't like it. As he approached the agent, Ron pushed out his chest and squared his shoulders. "Good to see you again," the agent said, extending his hand to Ron.
"Same to you," Ron said, shaking the man's hand with some added force which the agent mirrored. "Forgive me. It's been a long day. What was your name again?"
The black guy grinned. His extremely full lips framed his two rows of flawless white teeth. His cheeks rose to sunglasses, lifting them slightly from his face. "Dave," the agent answered.
Ron looked up at the cloudy sky. "Little dark out for sunglasses."
"Eye condition." Dave wiggled his brows, jiggling the glasses. "But let's get this moving. I'm sure you have a full day of hard work in front of you." Dave turned around and motioned for Ron to follow. Dave's back was just as impressive as his front, not that Ron would ever acknowledge it.
"It's a two-story floor plan," Dave explained. "Two bedrooms upstairs, each with its own bathroom." He motioned upstairs. "Living room leads into the dining room and then into the kitchen. Feel free to roam around. I'll be upstairs whenever you are ready to talk numbers." And Dave went up the stairs before Ron could acknowledge him.
"Weirdo," Ron muttered before he wandered downstairs. Everything was in order, or more specifically, disorder. The property was like the other, a piece of crap that he could get for a steal. The place was livable, better than the last. He could charge an easy two thousand as is, but did the owners know what they had on their hands? "The owners motivated?" Ron asked, but Dave didn't respond. "Hello?" Ron asked, coming to the base of the stairs. "Dave? Hello?" He shouted before he climbed the stairs. Each step creaked louder than the one before. Hopefully, it wasn't termites. Even Ron knew not to mess with those bugs.
As Dave explained, Ron found two doors, one open and the other closed. Ron peeked inside the first bedroom but could only make out a hideous maroon carpet. With no other choice, Ron jerked back and opened the second door.
"What the fuck?" Ron gasped as he walked into the room.
The space was fully furnished and painted a nauseating shade of pink. A mix of vibrant rugs and silly foam pieces covered the floors. In one corner stood a crib the size of a full bed with a giant teddy inside. Beside it, a large toy chest overflowed with toys, spilling blocks, balls, and puppets onto the floor. A changing table the same size as the crib was placed next to the door. But it wasn't the oversized baby furniture or the bright colors that caught his attention but the pictures on the wall.
"How is this possible?" It was him. It was his face in all the photos. Or at least an altered version of him. His face looked the same, but everything else was different. His usual buzzed hair was grown out and childishly swooshed across his forehead. And in every photo, Ron was dressed in either a onesie, humiliating baby clothes, or an oversized diaper that appeared to be very dirty.
"Well, hey, little guy. Didn't know you were awake." Dave thumped his hand onto Ron's shoulder, making him jump. A warmth shot through him like a bullet, followed by a sigh of relief. He turned quickly and looked up at Dave, suddenly feeling very small beside the man.
The agent stared down at Ron, smiling as Ron's bottom lip began to quiver. A demeaning smile crept across Dave's face. "Aww, seems like we moved you into big boy pants a little too soon."
"What-what the fuck are you talking about?" Ron stuttered, speaking with a fraction of his former strength. Uncontrollable tears welled in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. "What the fuck is this room? Why are their fucking pictures of me?"
"Wow, such naughty big boy language." Dave shook his head. He extended his arms and hooked them up Ron's armpits, lifting him without an ounce of effort.
"What are you? Put me down!" Ron fought Dave as he walked over to the changing table. Dave wiggled. He punched. He kicked. But each attack held no force. His hands just bounced against the man's meaty pectorals as if his attacks meant nothing. Dave laid him down on the changing table. Ron attempted to roll off, but an unseen weight held him in place. "Fucker, what is happening? What are you doing? WHY ARE YOU TAKING OFF MY PANTS?!"
"Such a grumpy boy today. I know you like wearing wet undies, but we gotta get you out of them."
"What are you . . . did you say wet undies?" Ron remembered the warmth and the feeling of relaxation. He lifted his head with a great deal of difficulty and saw what he feared.
A dark, wet spot covered the front of his janes and drained down his left leg. Ron couldn't believe it. He wet himself. And it wasn't a few droplets. It was an entire bladder's worth of piss.
"What is happening?" Ron said, looking up at Dave as the man's hand drifted along Ron's jeans, rubbing the wet denim. Ron's cock stiffened. It throbbed as Dave grabbed hold of it through the layers of wet denim and cotton. He shivered at the sensation, hating how much he enjoyed it. Ron wanted to look away but couldn't take his eyes off the man and his unsettling smile.
"Well, I need to change you into a fresh diaper before your sitter comes. I don't think he would appreciate coming over to an already wet boy like you?"
"Fresh diaper?" Ron gasped as his hips moved up and down in time with Dave's strokes.
"Oh yeah, I think we moved you into big boy undies far too quickly." Dave teased as he released Ron's crotch. "Let me get a little comfortable first." He removed his glasses and set them beside the changing table, and when they opened, Ron's fear multiplied. Dave's eyes were entirely black, like pools of ink. They reflected Ron's reality to him. "Okay, Ronnie, now off these wet clothes." He unzipped Ron's pants and pulled them off with one clean tug. "And now the undies."
"Don't-don't you dare try," Ron stuttered. Ron kicked his legs to prevent Dave from removing his boxers, but Dave handled his feeble assault with ease. Dave laughed a mocking chuckle.
"Don't worry, Ronnie. You love your diapers. You always have. I will make sure we put on one of those extra-large pink ones that you love wearing so much." He laughed, hooking his thumbs around Ron's boxers.
"Please stop. I don't know why you are doing this, but please stop."
"You don't know why?" Dave paused. "But you know why."
"I do?" Ron said. His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Yes, you have ruined many lives, Ronnie, and now it is time for you to feel the humiliation you have heaped onto so many people." With a singular, swift movement, Dave ripped off Ron's underwear and lifted them to show. He tsk'd several times. "Looks like we will have to cut back on the juice." He motioned to the large piss stain on Dave's white boxers. The entire pair of underwear was dyed yellow by Ron's accident. "Oops." The boxers `slipped' from Dave's hand and fell onto Ron's face. The wet boxers slapped against his face, and no matter how much he threw his head from side to side, they did not move.
"Get these off me!" Ron shouted. "Get them off!" The taste of piss leaked into his mouth as he spoke. "Get it off!"
"I don't hear a please," Dave taunted. "Be a good boy and use your nice words."
Ron fumed beneath the boxers.
"Come on, Ronnie, say it. Please, Daddy." Dave's voice was giddy, making Ron even angrier. He tossed his head to the side, trying to dislodge the underwear, but instead, it only painted the taste of piss across his lips.
"Pwease, Daddy." The oddly phrased word left his lips before he knew it. "Pwease. Pwease. Pwease." He said the word multiple times, trying to pronounce it correctly, but his lips wouldn't allow him. His tongue wouldn't obey him.
"Oh, so many good words Ronnie. Of course, I will help." Ron lifted the wet boxers from Ron's face and tossed them into a nearby bin. Dave smiled a friendly grin before his eyes went down to Ron's lap, and his kind smile became malicious. "Oh my, just look at that big thing." Dave gripped Ron's cock. "This is a big cock for such a little guy. But don't worry. I'll fix that."
Dave held Ron's cock and stroked.
"OoOoO," Ron groaned as the pleasure washed over him like a wave. Ron fought the gratification. His low-hanging balls bounced against his thighs as Dave jerked him until his cock hardened into its solid eight inches.
"Such a big toy for such a naughty boy." Dave placed his thumb on the tip of Ronnie's cock, pressed, and the pleasure multiplied.
"Ugh. No. Daddy! Pwease. It's too much." Ron groaned, assaulted by the pleasure coming from his cock. He withered on the changing table, throwing himself from side to side as pleasure filled his body. The pleasure receptors of his cock grew closer together, making every moment of enjoyment nearly agonizing. Ron could feel something wrong happening as he moaned. He could feel the weight of his balls lessens. The girth of his cock became lighter as Dave pressed it. Ron didn't want to look, but he couldn't stop himself. He looked down at his lap and watched his once proud cock disappear into his body, inch by agonizing inch. "No. This can't be happening. This--"
"Let's count down, Ronnie. Five. Four. Three." With every number, Ron lost another inch of his cock, and his balls retreated further into him. His shaft became slimmer. What Ron saw was a ghost of what he used to have. "Come on. You know your numbers." Dave massaged Ron's now micro cock, stroking it with just a few fingers when once it overfilled the man's hands. "Doesn't this feel so much better?" Dave asked, moving his thumb back to the tip of Ronnie's cock, forcing a pathetic stream of cum to leak from him. "Come on. You know your numbers." The words bubbled in the back of Ron's throat, fighting for their freedom. He bit down hard, trying to contain them. His lips parted to plea one final time for his release, but instead, the first number flung from his mouth.
"Two!" He moaned, feeling Dave push another inch into his body. His breathing turned heavy, feeling the orgasm churn within his tiny balls.
"Only one more, Ronnie." He played with Ron's tiny cock, rubbing and stroking his one-incher. "You know it. Come on. Be a good boy. Be Daddy's good little diaper boy. Say it."
"I . . . can't . . . pwease . . . don't make me," Ron begged. He couldn't let it get any smaller. He couldn't. This had to be a dream--a nightmare he desperately needed to wake up from.
"Say it, Ronnie," Dave urged. He took Ron's two inches between his thumb and finger and stroked, teased, and rubbed. "Sat it, you know you want to say it, Ronnie. Think of how good it will feel." He paused the stroking. "But if you want to be free. All you have to do is ask."
The word grew inside of him, pushing at any remaining restraint. Ronnie wanted it to end. He tried to say the word so Dave would let him go. But when his lips opened, and he was about to say the words, another came from his lips, and the best feeling in the world swam over him.
"Oneeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Ronnie whined in the most pathetic voice as his cock's final inch was swallowed by his body, and his orgasm was released. His body shook as a dribble of cum leaked across his lap and down his meaty thigh. He pumped his hips, trying to force the pleasure from his body, but it drained slowly and offered only the most minimal of release. His balls felt like the load was being squeezed from them, stealing every droplet of this and his future loads until nothing was left, and his balls were the size of grapes. Dave laughed as Ronnie cried at the loss of his manhood and began diapering him. He lifted his legs, tucked the comically large pink diaper beneath his butt, and strapped them into place. Dave lifted Ronnie again and laid him in the giant crib beside the bear. Ronnie crinkled with every movement as he tried to escape the crib but only rolled into the bear, which he held tightly, afraid of what Dave would do next.
"Such a good boy," Dave said as he leaned into the crib. "And this is only the beginning of your ruination, Ronnie." He pressed his lips against Ronnie's forehead, and darkness swarmed his vision.
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