Mcstories Diaper

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Mcstories Diaper
Doug’s new company doctor has some peculiar
approaches—and ulterior motives—behind his medical
practice.
[Here’s a story I wrote a while ago when I was in a weird mood. Enjoy!
As always, I appreciate feedback, so let me know what you think.
Warning: This story has some pretty hardcore SCAT (shit & piss play.)
If that’s not your thing, read something else instead!]
Doug had never worked for a company that had an official
“company doctor” before, but he had to admit it sure made it easier to
get his routine medical work done. No hassles with insurance or
trying out various doctors to find a good one. He just showed up in
Dr. Schormer’s office and signed up for his initial checkup.
“It’s great to see you here with no prodding,” Dr. Schormer
said, “Many of our new employees just avoid coming by for a while. I
guess a lot of people are just afraid of doctors. I promise, though,
I’ll be gentle.”
“What exactly are you going to do today, Doctor?”
“Please, call me Mark. Today I’m going to run a series of
routine tests on you, and prescribe you a little medication for that
rash I see on your elbow.”
“I’ve been putting moisturizing lotion on it and it seems to be
getting better.”
“Well, this’ll make sure it really gets out of your system.”
Doug wasn’t sure how a rash needed to be medicated but he
forgot about that soon as the battery of tests ensued.
“These seem like awfully rigorous tests for just a routine
checkup,” Doug noted.
“Well, we like to be sure here,” the doctor responded.
Doug was sitting on the examining table now, wearing nothing
but his underwear, and the doctor had gone over every exposed inch of
his body, poking and prodding and taking readings.
Finally Mark asked Doug to remove his underwear. Doug
hesitantly complied and Mark gave him a full testicular examination,
felt the shaft of his penis, and then moved on to his bum. Doug felt
him smear a dollop of something cold on his anus and exclaimed, but
Mark assured him it was nothing to worry about, just a little
analgesic to allow him to give him his prostate exam.
Within moments Doug’s asshole went totally numb, and he didn’t
feel Mark slip several bare fingers up inside him and probe around.
He did, however, feel those fingers hit his prostate and start probing
at it, and to his utter embarrassment he sprung a full erection.
“Don’t worry about that,” Mark said, “it’s completely normal.”
Nonetheless he kept probing at the prostate. Doug became
increasingly concerned as he became more and more turned-on and he
could have sworn the doctor was probing with an accelerating rhythm,
as if he was trying to exacerbate the problem. Behind Doug’s back
Mark smiled a slightly malicious smile and began thrusting his fingers
against his prostate faster and harder until Doug shouted.
Mark didn’t stop and finally Doug grunted loudly and shot a
load all over the examination table. Mark smiled as Doug stood,
mortified, blushing a bright beet red.
“Like I said, nothing to worry about. But since I’m not done
back there, maybe this would help keep the embarrassment to a
minimum,” Mark said, and before Doug could protest, he smeared a large
handful of the analgesic all over Doug’s penis and balls.
Within a minute or two Doug couldn’t feel them, either, and
feeling still hadn’t returned to his rectum, and he was starting to
really get worried when the doctor spent the next half hour with his
hand up inside Doug’s ass, probing and pushing and thrusting, but at
least he didn’t sprout any more erections.
Finally the exam ended, and Mark stood up, and happily
proclaimed that Doug was in perfect health.
“However, there is one thing,” he added.
“Nothing to do with your health, but that analgesic cream I
rubbed onto your rectum and penis and perineum can take quite a while
to wear off, and until it does all the muscles that control those
bodily functions are useless, numb.”
“How long is ‘quite a while’?” Doug asked, even more concerned.
“No more than a few days, usually. But in the meantime, you’ll
want to wear this.”
Mark reached under the counter and pulled up a large, fluffy
diaper. Doug recoiled.
But even as he said this, a trickle of urine ran out of his
penis and down his leg. Horrified, he grabbed the diaper and clasped
it around his torso as a full jet of urine spurted out of his control
and into the diaper.
Doug reluctantly put the diaper on and accepted a bag with
several more from the doctor and hid them under his coat, ready to
leave.
“Oh, don’t forget that medication for the rash, Doug. It’s
very important that you take this as instructed. I’ll be checking up
on you to make sure it’s going okay.”
Doug took the large pill bottle Mark handed him and read the
instructions. 4 pills, 3 times a day? That seemed like an awful lot,
and Doug said so.
“Doctor knows best, Doug,” Mark said, with a wink.
Doug started taking the pills dutifully, and noticed that his
rash did go away immediately. But that wasn’t all: The pills made him
feel floaty and light-headed, pleasantly so, and furthermore seemed to
make him ravenously hungry and thirsty. Every time he took them,
within twenty minutes he would feel the insatiable need to eat and
drink. He told Mark this and he said it was an understandable
side-effect. Mark started dropping off large bags of oat bran and
jugs of some weird-tasting liquid and said they would help. Doug
didn’t really want to eat or drink that stuff, but every time he took
the pills he became so hungry and thirsty he would eat bags and bags
of the oat bran and drink gallons of the strange liquid.
Worse yet, Doug didn’t regain the feeling in his groin. He
continued wearing the diapers, to his utter shame, and would be
sitting at work and feel a warmth spread from his backside and smell
the odor permeate and run for the vacant distant men’s room to change
as quickly as he could.
A few weeks passed and Doug didn’t really remember the events
of the day anymore. He’d take his pills, eat happily, and then fill
his diaper. As days went by he stopped being so alarmed about the
diaper and the pills and his weight gain from all the eating. He told
this to Mark who smiled and said he’d increase the dosage. Some small
part of Doug reacted in horror to this, fought to say no, but on the
outside he just smiled.
Mark also said that he thought Doug needed some time off of
work, and Doug didn’t argue as Mark led him to his car and drove him
to what Doug assumed was his home. But when they stopped Doug looked
up and saw some other place instead.
“I want you to stay with me for a while so I can monitor your
progress,” Mark said, and led Doug inside. Doug’s eyes opened wide
with shock as he saw the room Mark was trying to push him into, a
small room decorated like a large baby nursery, with a heavy locking
door and a glass window for observation from the outside. Doug tried
to fight back but to no avail; the cocktail Mark had been feeding him
included enough muscle relaxants that Doug could barely walk.
Doug came to sometime later, to find himself lying on his back
on a table. His hands and feet seemed to be restrained, so he was
lying spread-eagled on the table and couldn’t move. He could feel,
around his groin, that he was still wearing a diaper.
Just then, Mark walked in. Doug turned his head to see the
doctor stride into the room, smiling.
“What are you doing to me? I’ve had enough of this. Let me go!”
“I’ve always wanted a baby,” Mark said, grinning, “and you’re
just so damned cute I had to have you. Before you know it, you’ll be
my big beautiful baby, shitting and pissing yourself with glee while
I’m shoving my huge cock down your beautiful baby throat.”
Doug opened his mouth in horror to protest, and Mark shoved a
tube in, blocking his screams.
“Every time you suck some food through this hose, you’ll be
rewarded. Go on, try.”
Doug refused stoically to eat any of the food, but Mark stood
there patiently for hours until finally Doug was so hungry that he
couldn’t help but suck a little bit of food through the tube.
The food was heavy and thick and goopy, hard to eat, and tasted
rather bland. Doug didn’t have time to notice that, though, because
as he sucked the food in, a vibrator turned on, rubbing his
no-longer-numb prostate, and something slick inside the diaper started
rubbing up and down the shaft of his penis. But the instant he
stopped sucking food, the buzzing and stroking stopped, too.
Doug really wanted that feeling back, and Mark knew it. Before
long Doug started sucking on the hose just a little at a time to feel
those feelings, but they weren’t very intense. Finally he discovered
that the harder and faster he sucked, the more intense the vibrating
and stroking. He realized what Mark was doing to him, but it was too
late: he started sucking as hard and fast as he could and ground his
diapered crotch down against the table, rigidly erect.
Before long Doug felt that he needed to urinate, but he held it
in. Mark noticed his tension, and immediately sat down beside him,
and began speaking in a soothing tone of voice.
“It’s okay! You’ve been there for a long time and you don’t
want to stop eating, so it’s okay to wet your diaper. Wetting your
diaper is perfectly okay. Good boys wet their diapers. Good boys
like you wet their diapers. There is nothing wrong with wetting your
diaper. It’s okay and good of you to do. You’re a good boy.”
After less than an hour of this Doug couldn’t hold back and
flooded his diaper with hot urine. He began to cry a little but Mark
wiped his tears and changed his mantra:
“Don’t cry, little boy! You’re a good little boy and you peed
inside your diaper just like you were supposed to. What a good boy.
What a good boy you are. Such a good boy.”
As Mark spoke, Doug felt the sensation against his penis go
into overdrive and he had a crippling orgasm, the come spewing out at
the same time as a surging stream of urine spewed alongside it,
flooding the diaper.
Over time Doug’s ability to protest went down, and he started
to really look forward to eating as much as he could, all the time.
When he wet himself he would grin wide and big like a little baby as
he thrust his diaper back and forth, coming in it.
Doug was a little concerned the first time he had to poop, but
Mark soothing explained that good boys poop their diapers, and Doug
was such a good boy, he would poop in his diaper he was so good.
Doug eventually, inevitably, opened up his rectum and dumped
out a half-ton of shit into the diaper. It forced its way out and up
and down his crack and along his perineum and then he felt the warmth
subsume his balls as the shit filled the front of the diaper, and then
the length of his penis was buried in the stuff. He could smell it,
now, and was ready to cry except that the orgasm he got from pooping
was ten times the orgasm he got from peeing. Doug thrust his pelvis
up as he came. Mark untied his hands and Doug grabbed his crotch,
squishing the filthy shiny brown-stained diaper around his groin.
It wasn’t long before Doug was pooping several times a day, a
flood of warm, sticky shit each time swelling the diaper out even
further.
Eventually when Mark had been sitting at his bedside speaking
soothingly to him for a week straight, Doug was so zombified that he
could barely speak. Mark unzipped his wet pants, soggy with his own
come, and shoved his sticky, dripping erection into Doug’s open mouth.
Doug immediately smiled and started sucking.
Mark rolled out of bed and glanced through the window into the
holding cell where he kept his new prize, his big baby. Doug was
nearly hairless except for a curl of hair on top of his head, and he
had gained a good forty pounds from his original start date at the
company, enough to make him look pudgy just like a big baby would.
Mark had layered diaper after diaper on him, increasing in
size, and currently every time Doug got a diaper change, he had
thirteen new ones strapped around his waist, each one cut out to allow
free flow into the next. At this rate, Doug only needed changing once
a week, at which point the enormous diaper mass weighed upwards of 80
pounds and made it so he could barely crawl around the room.
Mark unlocked the door, awakening Doug, who looked at him, fear
in his eyes, and began backing away as fast as he could, which with
his massive, shit-stained, piss-filled diaper and his extremely
atrophied muscles, was not very fast. Mark just grinned, locked the
door behind him, and walked over.
He pulled the feeding tube from the wall, grabbed Doug’s head,
and shoved the tube into his mouth over Doug’s feeble attempts to
resist. Mark hit the large button on the wall and straddled Doug to
keep him from moving, Mark’s naked buttocks and rigid erection
pressing down against Doug’s diaper and Mark’s hands holding the tube
firmly in place. The grinding sound began and the brown muck, Mark’s
special blend of bran, prunes, laxative, and milk, flowed into Doug’s
mouth as Doug’s eyes glazed over with the familiar ritual. A
half-hour later Doug’s gut was visibly distended, packed solid with
the mixture designed for one purpose only: to fill Doug’s diaper to
the brink.
Mark carefully unfastened all the diaper and unfolded it onto
the ground with Doug on all fours, resting his groin down against the
filthy, stinking mass of diaper under him. Mark grinned wide and
straddled Doug’s bum, smeared with the sticky hot mixture of poop and
pee, and pressed down against him, stroking his beet-red rigid cock up
and down Doug’s crack, pressing his cock between his two flabby
cheeks, covering his own groin in the filth. He kept this up for a
half hour or so, restraining himself, moaning aloud, until finally
Doug’s feeding made its way through and, now completely beyond Doug’s
control, his rectum opened wide and began to pump out a steady stream
of liquid poop, which ran down his crack and over his balls and into
the waiting open diaper below. Mark rubbed against him with increased
vigor, smearing the fresh shit all over, and finally stood up, walked
around, grabbed Doug by his remaining hair, and smeared his
shit-covered groin all over Doug’s face, Doug licking at it out of
brainwashed conditioning, until Mark came all over Doug’s dirty face.

Anyone under the age of 18, along with
anyone offended by stories of a sexual nature or containing sexual
situations or offended by the idea of mind control in any fashion,
please do not read this story.
The people and events in this story are fictional and do not
represent anyone or anything from real life.
Synopsis: A girl is sentenced to attend an
unusual reform school.
“Morrigan,” said Stephen, my lawyer. “Please pay
attention.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I said.
“You need to understand,” said Stephen, “that you’re going in front
of Judge Jonathon ‘The Rack’ Hanover. As such, you really want to
present yourself respectfully. In fact, since you’re going in front of
him for bullying and non-compliant use of chaotic arcane forces-
offenses he is traditionally very tough on- you really,
really want to go out of your way to be polite. Your
abrasive attitude is going to cost you.”
I laughed. “Oh, please, Stephen,” I said. “What is Judge Asscrack
going to be so upset about?”
My lawyer took out a thick sheaf of paper. “Specifically, your
rampant and irresponsible use of minor witchcraft, Morrigan,” he said,
“and your complete disregard of potential consequences.”
I shrugged. “Kid stuff,” I said. “I was just having a little
fun. It’s not like I was stealing or killing anyone.”
“I’m hoping he’ll take that into account,” said Stephen, “but the
fact is that he’s going to see you as a bully, cut and dried. You’ve
used your limited knowledge of arcane arts to intimidate people,
making them do what you want by threatening them with horrible
fates. The fact that you couldn’t actually do the things you
threatened are irrelevant, since your victims believed you.”
I shrugged again. “Not my problem if they’re dumb,” I said. “I did
‘em a favor. They all need to grow a pair.”
Stephen gathered his papers and put them back in his
briefcase. “Again, I’m hoping Judge Hanover takes that into
consideration,” he said. “I’m not expecting it, however.”
“What’s he going to do,” I said, “throw a nineteen year old girl in
jail for life because people are too stupid to know the difference
between a plume of smoke and a demon?”
“Oh, I doubt you’ll go to jail,” he said. “You’ll probably wish you
did, though.”
“I better not go to jail,” I said. “Your job is to keep me out, and
you need to do your job.”
Stephen shook his head. “Are you really threatening your
lawyer?”
I raised my hand and snapped my fingers, causing a tiny explosion
of sparks. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
Stephen laughed. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “I can’t
wait for you to meet The Rack, Morrigan. It’ll be a truly
epic moment.”
Judge Hanover fixed me with a stern look. “Morrigan Connor, you
have effectively exercised a reign of terror with your online cyber
bullying and your dabbling in arcane practices. Furthermore, You have
maintained intimidation practices on several parties. Worse yet, you
have displayed no remorse at the havoc you have wreaked. I find you
Guilty of all charges.”
I shrugged mentally. I hadn’t expected anything less.
“Now,” continued Hanover, obviously warming to his topic, “what I
find distressing in your case, Miss Connor, is that despite your total
disregard for the rights of others, you actually show a flair for your
chosen areas of disruption. Also, your crimes, such as they are, are
spiteful and malicious as opposed to dangerous. In short, you’re a
bully and your attitude is deplorable, but you appear to show flashes
of talent.”
That sounded like a fancy way of saying that when I want something,
I take it. And he was right. I wasn’t sure where he was going with
this, though.
“You require training, Miss Connor...for everyone else’s
protection, if nothing else. You also require a life lesson about
personal interactions. Strict incarceration might provide some
elements of the second, but none of the first.”
I sighed. He was becoming very long-winded.
“You require a full, advanced education, Miss Connor. To that end,
I hereby sentence you to attend Blackrock Academy until such time as
you have graduated or been found a suitable vocation, as judged by
qualified personnel. All paperwork shall be transferred to that
facility and your sentence shall commence immediately.”
I blinked. School? I got sentenced to attend school? Hell, that
wasn’t bad at all.
“Thank you for your fairness, your Honor,” I said, giving him my
sweetest smile. “I’ll make sure not to disappoint you in any way.”
Judge Hanover eyes locked with mine, and I had a sudden sneaking
suspicion that my act hadn’t fooled him in the least.
“I am not being kind, Miss Connor,” said the judge. “You will be
facing true Justice at Blackrock.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that, your Honor,” I said, still
smiling.
Judge Hanover held my gaze for a few more seconds, then turned to
Stephen, my lawyer. “Counselor, please turn over all appropriate
paperwork to the court personnel and deliver your client for facility
transfer.”
Stephen and I were walking down a hallway. A pair of Chrystal
Heights police officers followed close behind.
“See?” I said to Stephen. “I told you I’d land on my feet. I always
do.”
“I don’t think you realize what Blackrock Academy is about,” said
Stephen.
I shrugged. “It’s a school,” I said. “What else is there to
know?”
Stephen sighed. “Trying to explain it to you is obviously useless,”
he said. “Fine. Briefly, Blackrock is a school for those interested in
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