I signed the papers at Restart Inc on a rainy Tuesday, my hands shaking as the woman behind the desk smiled like she already knew every filthy secret I’d ever jerked off to. “You want the full restart,” she said. “Adult baby. Total care. No control. Say yes and we own your holes and your bladder for the next thirty days.” My cock twitched in my jeans and I said yes before I could think twice.
They stripped me in a bright white room that smelled like baby powder and latex. Two attendants, both in tight white uniforms that hugged their tits and asses, wiped me down with warm cloths, laughing softly when my dick got hard. “Look at this eager little boy,” one cooed, wrapping her fingers around my shaft and giving it two slow pumps. “Already leaking for Mommy.” They taped the thickest diaper I’d ever seen around my hips, the plastic crinkling loud enough to make my face burn. A pink pacifier was pushed between my lips. “Suck, baby. Good boy.”
The first night they put me in a giant crib with bars I couldn’t climb.
I woke up soaked, the diaper heavy and warm between my legs. Before I could even call out, the door opened and Mistress Lena walked in, all long legs and red lips. She didn’t ask. She just unfastened the tapes, lifted my legs like I weighed nothing, and cleaned me with clinical thoroughness that still felt filthy. Her fingers brushed my balls, then slid lower, pressing against my hole. “You’re going to take my fingers while I change you,” she said, voice low and matter-of-fact. “And you’re going to thank me.”
Two slick fingers pushed inside while she wiped me. I moaned around the pacifier, hips jerking. She curled them, found that spot that made my whole body light up, and finger-fucked me slow and deep until pre-cum dripped onto my stomach. “Such a messy little slut,” she murmured. “You don’t get to come until you’ve earned it.” She taped a fresh diaper on, patted the front once, and left me aching.
Days blurred. They fed me bottles while I sat in a high chair, milk mixed with something that made my bladder weak. Every time I wet myself they praised me like I’d done something clever, then made the change sexual. One afternoon two attendants held me down on the changing table and took turns riding my face while the third stroked my cock through the soaked padding. “You’re not allowed to come,” they kept saying. “Babies don’t get to decide.” My tongue was sore, my jaw ached, and I still begged for more when they finally let me lick one of them to orgasm.
By week two I was crawling on command, diaper sagging, cock constantly half-hard from the constant friction and denial. Mistress Lena started using me after changes. She’d slide the diaper down just enough to free my dick, straddle me on the floor, and sink down onto me while I was still sticky with wipes. “Fuck Mommy’s pussy, baby,” she’d growl, riding me hard, the wet diaper squelching beneath us. She’d come twice before she let me finish, then tuck me back into fresh padding with my own cum smeared inside. “There. Now you really smell like my little boy.”
The final night they gathered me in the main playroom. I was in a onesie that snapped between my legs, thick diaper underneath, pacifier clipped to my chest. Mistress Lena sat on a throne-like chair and crooked her finger. “Come here, restart boy. Show everyone what you’ve become.” I crawled to her, nuzzled her thigh, and let her feed me a bottle while the others watched. When it was empty she stood, hiked up her skirt, and pulled the pacifier out to replace it with her strap-on. “Open.” I sucked her cock in front of the whole room, drooling, while she stroked the front of my diaper until I was whimpering.
She bent me over the arm of the chair, pulled the diaper aside, and fucked me deep and steady. Every thrust made the wet padding rub against my balls. “You’re ours now,” she said, voice calm and filthy. “Every time you wet, every time you come, you remember who restarted you.” I came so hard my vision whited out, pulsing around her strap while cum soaked the inside of my diaper again. She didn’t stop until I was shaking.
When the thirty days ended they gave me a choice. I signed another contract without reading it. The attendants smiled, already reaching for the wipes. I lay back, legs spread, ready for whatever they decided to do to me next. The crinkle of a fresh diaper was the last sound I heard before I closed my eyes and let them own me all over again.
