Chapter Text
The building where people woke up after they’d been kidnapped was nothing like the dark dungeon from their secret forbidden fantasies or the opulent mansions of the super wealthy.
Some would end up in those kinds of places, in time, if they were lucky. But everyone started in a house like the one Christina found herself in, as the pounding headache won a war against the chemically induced lethargy that had been keeping her from consciousness before suitable preparations had occurred.
Her arms were bound in duct tape up to the elbows, and her ankles affixed to the top of her thighs. Her clothing had been cut from her body wherever it got in the way of this bondage, and a gag constructed from the cargo fabric of her pant leg was loosely lodged within her mouth.
The crown moulding looked nice enough, if tacky, the ceilings tall, the sounds of the other women muffled, and the flooring stained wood. Cheap looking Wal-Mart furniture backed against the walls of this bedless bedroom was just one of many reg flags that nobody lived in this house. It was the kind of detail that would fill people with a sense of eerie dread when they saw the leaked photographs years down the line.
None of that occurred to Christina. She tried in vain to tug against her confines. She looked desperately at the other victims, (mostly women, one man), not that it did any of them any good.
A woman in her late fourties arrived through the doorless entrance, her body curved and pretty, her outfit crisp and business casual.
“Each of us has a role to fulfill here.” Her voice carried a kind firmness. There were other footsteps, but Christina couldn’t see who else was there.
“Your roles are perhaps the most important of all. You’re the reason we’re all here, you’re very, very special, and don’t you forget it. Be grateful. All of this is for you.”
There was a ripping sound, and scuffling, as one by one the victims were raised to their trembling feet. Christina could barely support herself, but found enough leverage to avoid relying on the arms of the captor who had pulled her up.
Her turn arrived, and as she wobbled past the woman Christina was acknowledged for the first time. “Hmm, I see why Casey picked you up. We’ll have to wait until after inspection before purpose can be officially assigned, but I already have a pretty good idea of how you can best serve.”
It was as if she was talking past her, but regardless of the dehumanization Christina spat out the gag and tried her best to stand up for herself.
“P-Please let me go.” Her voice was dry and cracking.
Steadfast in her kind tone, the woman responded. “I know, I understand. You’re afraid. Reach down deep inside for me. Find whatever brave voice had the courage to say that to the scary lady. And choose happiness for me, young lady. Crush that voice. It won’t help you anymore.”
The inspection was no less degrading than the wake-up. Christina attempted, in a numb haze, to put together the events that led her here while men in masks stripped her fully, showering her down in the ensuite of what was clearly a cheap Florida mansion. The kind of place built as a tourism development for use as an Airbnb, or something equally banal.
They silently ran the washclothes drenched in burning hot water and clinical soap across every inch of her.
She’d gone out with a couple looking for a unicorn, or so they claimed. A few texts here and there. A night at the local queer bar. Dizziness on the way to the bathroom. Then she woke up here.
Next came the chemical removal of her hair. She was sobbing, an inconvenience washed away by the final dregs.
She bucked, slippery and wet on the linoleum, but she tried to comply. Hands squeezed her arms against her chest. She didn’t want to end up dead. A fat, vaseline covered finger probed her pussy and fingered her ass in medical, clinical swirls. A second finger was enough for noises. The molester said something and another person wrote it down.
Finally, mercy, a liberal application of cold cream.
“You did good, kid.”
The plain cotton t-shirt and panties were downright luxurious in comparison to her stale outfit and harsh binding. As she was walked to an upstairs den room that had been furnished with rows of bunk twin beds, she noticed that some of the others had been taped back up or gagged. Her cooperation had earned her some freedom. She hoped that would eventually manifest as some kind of a possibility to escape. Perhaps if she could cooperate just a little bit more, they would let down their guard.
She wandered over to a bunk and sat down, empathetically looking over at the others. Some shared a glance. Others looked away. Only one was stupid enough to speak up, the man.
“Let me go you sick fucks! I’ll fucking kill you!” The taser was quick from a guard, and he was pissing himself on the ground.
The woman was back, clipboard in hand. “You can call me Warden, or Miss, unless an alternate title is assigned. I will be helping you to understand your new roles. It is vital that you listen to me and take my instructions to heart. I only want what is best for you. Dinner, and then tomorrow morning we begin. I trust you can all find a bed.”
Christina stayed in her spot, and a guard gave her a tray. She ate the meal in silence. The water felt heavenly. When they came around to pick it up, Warden had a few pills in a paper cup. “You have to take your medicine. Be a good girl and swallow it yourself. If not we will be left with no choice but to administer it by force. I don’t want to do that to you.”
Reluctantly, Christina accepted.
She swallowed.
Most of the lights went out, but the guards remained. They watched infomercials on a dimmed tv and made sure nobody fled. The thick blanket of whatever drug they gave her swallowed her whole, and she was helpless against it. Sleep was not a decision Christina got to make for herself.
Purpose wasn’t something any of the victims were told about. They didn’t need an explanation. They weren’t people. It was something that simply began happening to them.
For Christina things were set into motion with a trip to one of the upstairs bedrooms. A woman with unruly hair and a lab coat arranged some things on a table.
Miss let her inside, a persistent hand on her shoulder. “This is very important, sweetie. You’re being very brave.” Her tone had gotten more condescending and infantile towards the girl since yesterday, a perversely tender approach to treating someone she was keeping captive along with several others.
The center of the room was dominated by a stirruped chair. Unable to deny the likely imminent risk to her wellbeing, the girl took a flailing swing and tried to make a run for it. Panic swelled in her voice as she cried out with some guttural fearful noise.
This was, of course, a fairly predictable response to involuntary medical procedures. The Warden was well prepared, and gripped down tightly with her hand on the girls shoulder. Her other hand pressed down tightly around Christinas’s mouth, with a thick wad of cotton fabric.
A dizzying chemical odour infected the girls mind, and she tried desperately to avoid breathing any more of the noxious substance. It was in vain, as inevitably her body betrayed her. One gasp and her face was hot and numb. She coughed and sputtered as oxygen faded, replaced with the sweet chloroform. Gravity broke beneath her.
Through blurry eyes, she watched herself get dragged over to the chair. Her body was strapped down, and her legs hoisted up.
“They better have someone lined up this time Mel.” The one in the lab coat muttered.
“Why do you mind, you get a cut no matter what.”
Christina’s panties were pulled down her legs and tossed into a ziploc bag. With the only barrier out of the way, her legs were restrained.
“It’s not about the money, you know that. It kills me to see something like this go to waste on a buyer who won’t appreciate it.”
“If you must know, I hear we have several interested parties looking for something like this, this round. I expect she’ll have quite the bidding war.”
She screamed in a blurry slur of awareness as a deep injection sunk into her clit.
“Shhh, you’re doing so good babygirl.” Miss turned her attention back to Christina as the procedure began.
Whimpering whines escaped her mouth as a slick gel was brushed across her urethra. Swiftly following it, a probing plastic implement that invaded one of her most personal places.
A click accompanied its slow expansion. The Warden brought the fabric back up to her mouth and nose, dampening the blow as the microsurgical implements within the catheter continued their work.
Time blurred for Christina. The pinch from the clitoral injection had long since faded, her legs trembled slightly, and the vapor sedative faded into something that was enough to keep her uncoordinated without full incapacitation. Still the catheter line remained.
“How do you want to finish up? The drugs don’t care how you do it and there’s no incisions to worry about, just as long as she cums within the next hour so they can properly soak into the urethral sponge.” Her gloves squeaked as she flexed her hands.
Christina ineffectively bucked her legs slightly in the stirrups, but the restraints kept her secure.
“We’re on a quick turnaround for this,” Miss replied, “so I can’t afford to waste a single drop of encouragement. Pump 400cc saline and fetch me a medium, and a stuffer. Where do you keep the vibrators? Something handheld.”
“Bottom drawer, on the left,” the medical malpractitioner replied as she prepared the syringe.
The Wardens attention snapped back to the victim as soon as she returned. “I know this is all a lot to handle, little one. Would it help if you called me Aunty, sweetheart? We have a policy against Mommy to ensure you bond properly after the auction.”
“Please let me go I won’t tell anyone I swear.” Christina managed to spit back.
“Well, let’s stick with Miss for now,” she sighed.
There was a rush of cold directly beneath her mons, and a pinch. Then, she felt the urgent need to urinate, as if she had been holding for hours. The pinch gave way to a slithery discomfort as the probing plastic was removed from her urethra.
Then began the part that Miss truly enjoyed, despite her veneer of professionalism. After all, you don’t get into the profession of organized criminal sexual abuse and human conditioning without at least some capacity to revel in the misfortune of others.
She tapped twice on the girls hip, and when she didn’t get the picture, the Warden manually raised Christina’s hips with a firm grip on her ass cheek. She would understand the important gestures soon enough.
The diaper, thick and fluffy, was slid under her until the band ran above her hipbone. It would become the only reliable sensory constant in her life from that moment forward.
It wasn’t the outcome that thrilled the Warden, it was the way their eyes flickered in fearful recognition of what was being done to them as a behavior modification took hold, despite their resistances. She took pride and satisfaction in her ability to achieve results without a drop of cooperation from her inventory.
Miss also relished in the way that the girl whimpered and sniffled as her fingers ran up and down the folds of her pussy, around her butt cheeks, in the corners of her thighs, covering every inch in a dollop of anti-rash cream laced with cannabis oil. Lastly came the booster, an absorbent layer with a pleasantly soft plush cover.
Every effort was made to ensure that the experience was as pleasurable and comfortable as possible. If it wasn’t, then the outcomes wouldn’t be nearly as reliable. There could be discomfort in all other areas, but there was to be no mixed messaging for Christina’s body when it came to the padding itself. Much easier to train a girl to love something if it feels irresistibly good, that was the Warden’s philosophy.
She pulled the front up and adhered the straps. It was very tight, stopping just short of too much. Christina heard a buzzing sound. Anxiety crept in, fear and terror over the position she found herself in. Then the rag came back, though the chemicals had evaporated enough that when it was loosely held over her mouth. She could still steal enough oxygen through the fog to stay present, even if she lacked the bodily autonomy to resist. And she did have to resist. Whatever it was the nurse lady had done to her, she made it clear that an orgasm within the next hour was necessary for whatever it was they were doing to her medically to work.
She felt the material pressing into her, and already it was tingling, little fizzing sparkles around her clit. Miss placed a hand firmly on the padding, and moved in circles.
“It feels good, doesn’t it baby. It’s okay, you’re allowed to like it. I want you to enjoy this.” She gently crooned, at once a lover and an authority figure.
Christina hated that it was true. She could feel the muscles around her bladder clenching and tightening to avoid spilling the fluid that had been pumped into her, but that just made it worse. Erectile tissue strained and filled in an attempt to protect her from humiliation, and Miss was exploiting that. It was precisely the biological mechanism that would be scrambled.
Miss took her hand away to pull her sleeves up, and Christina raised her hips just a fraction, looking for that warm, persistent pressure.
Miss smiled and pressed the wand in hard, right down the center, letting the buzzing ripple through Christina’s crotch. She whined and sobbed in response, but couldn’t resist the sensation as it reverberated across her warm, tingling parts. She’d never felt the tissues in her clit burn with desire so intensely, and she cursed whatever they had injected her with for enabling the mutinous bliss.
“Eyes on me sweetie. We’re not letting a single drop of neurochemistry go to waste. I don’t want you thinking about a single thing except for how good this feels, and your nice Warden’s eyes, and how much you love your padding.”
It was sick, perverse, and Christina despised it. She wanted to escape, to find some way home from wherever they were-
“You’re drifting again, babygirl. I know it’s hard to pay attention. And usually I’d reward you for being a sweet, easily distractible little girl, but not right now.”
The girl whined as Miss punctuated her words with a higher vibration speed.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it? You love your diaper, don’t you baby? Do you want cummies? Wanna make cummies for me?”
She scrunched her face up, a bright red flush covering her cheeks from the humiliation. She tried to look away from the Warden's intense green eyes, but now the nurse was holding her head in place so there was no escaping it.
“Be a good girl and stop fighting. Feel all those tense mean muscles tying up in bundles and choose to let go of them.”
Miss’s fingers swirled in an almost ticklish dance across the spot where the girl had pubic hair this morning. She whined and whimpered and moaned. To test her faltering resolve, Miss removed the vibrator a little, and was very satisfied to see that the girl was moving slightly to try and keep the pressure on her desperate full pussy. The hand pulled up, just above her mons. Then it rapidly pressed down, taking Christina by surprise.
At the same time, several things happened.
Miss turned up the vibrator to its maximum strength. Her eyes flared in intense focus, and her smile pulled up.
Christina tried to scream from beneath the rag of fabric, only bringing more of the elixir into her lungs.
The rapid press caused the pressure to give way, and the iron grip on her urethral muscles faltered, every effort taken to ensure the most humiliating outcome would occur. Sedative and vibration and pressure all amounting to an impossible task.
A spray of pee and saline water soaked into the diaper, her diaper.
The sensation of release felt amazing, better than any lapping tongue or fucking or expensive vibrator had ever managed to achieve. She could feel it, the beginnings of what had been changed. The muscles and nerves all around her urethra, the parts that usually prevent someone from peeing in an intimate moment, had been coaxed to betray her. The latent pleasure nerves present all around that area had been activated. It wasn’t quite as strong as the powerful bliss that her clit was capable of delivering, not yet, but it was far more pronounced than ever before.
Peeing was an almost orgasmic feeling now.
She cried out in horror at what they had already done to her.
“It’s okay baby, I know it’s scary to make pee-pee in your padding, but Miss is so proud of you. You’re just a little girl, you’re supposed to go in your diaper. And it feels so good, doesn’t it? All warm and squishy? It’s okay sweetie, you can enjoy those nice happy tingles. That’s your body telling you what a good girl you are.”
The vibrator was taking care of the rest, and just a few seconds later it happened.
White hot sticky bliss, and a few more sprays of pee alongside it. It was one of the best orgasms she had ever felt, and Miss forced eye contact the entire time.
“That’ll do it,” the nurse chuckled from behind her. “Refractory should be shot too, or near abouts.”
“Shhh, let her enjoy figuring that part out for herself.”
“Yes ma’am.”
The vibrator was gone, and Miss was lacing her fingers into Christina’s, holding her hand. She moved both of their hands atop the soaked diaper, and showed Christina how she could enjoy the aftertremmors, the second and third smaller orgasms, using her hand to press the hot wetness against her burning flesh.
The embers faded, but from within the delirium she felt some small amount left inside her, and having already lost all sense of dignity, she allowed those dribbles to leak out of her bladder. The pleasure was strong enough, and close enough to the main event to pull another sticky out of her, and the pure correlation between the two without any outside influence from Miss made it the strongest conditioning vector of them all.
She moaned aloud. And Miss giggled. “Good girl~”
The message was clear.
Resisting was upsetting, scary, cold, tense.
Complying was warm, relaxing, pleasurable, and filled with praise.