Any sufficiently advanced magic is completely indistinguishable from science. That’s just the way it is. Savages will look at a perfectly fine tuned summoning circle or a gate into an extra dimensional first draft of reality itself and suppose that there is some sort of fine tuned and knowable mechanism behind it all that can then be easily replicated and mass produced once sufficiently understood.
And that kind of unenlightened attitude is exactly why magic is so rare across the various planes and timelines. It takes a certain level of humility to know that there are forces wiser and greater than mankind out there in the twisting nether and that they have more than a little say in how the universe works. That is a rarity of character that is only compounded when one realizes that in addition to humility a particular flavor of brains, wisdom, and ambition is required to find and wield magic.
Like true love, the fabled ‘oneness with the universe’ necessary to find, harness and practice magic is exceedingly rare and requires passion, humility, and hard work over many years. It is so statistically unlikely that the odds of wielding magic with any modicum of skill are less than getting attacked by a shark in the middle of a desert, or lead turning into gold.
Yet it does happen.
Alexandria and Markus were proof of that. They stood facing each other in their bedroom, smiling bashfully at the foot of their king sized bed. Their clothes from the day’s trials and tribulation lay puddled in the hamper, their skin freshly bathed, and both wore nothing but the nervous grins on their faces.
They’d been planning this for weeks purposefully negotiating and whispering their fantasies to each other each night before sleep took them, shooting off ideas and temptations just before drifting off; all while stockpiling arcane energy and scavenging the perfect spells for tonight.
Tonight was their anniversary. Better than birthdays which was supposed to be about the celebrant and the celebrant alone, and much better than the half a dozen semi-holy days they shared with an uncountable number of people; tonight was supposed to be all about them.
Their own high holy day. Their own cosmic equinox. Their own renewal and replenishment of the mana that was their love for each other.
While like any healthy married couple, the duo of magicians had a good sex life, Markus and Alexandria wanted to make tonight particularly special. No experimentation. They weren’t bored with each other; far from it. Rather they wanted to show how much they loved one another by playing each other’s greatest hits.
“Ready, Ria?” Markus asked his lovely bride.
“Ready, Mark,” She replied, feeling both empowered and oddly stilted by the ritual. There was something about planned sex that both inflamed the passions of imagination while threatening those of spontaneity. But that spontaneity was kept alive with simple anticipation of this evening.
Markus gestured over to the bed. “Lady’s first,” he said. Alexandria rolled her eyes and plopped down, spreading her legs ever so slightly for him. Trembling with his own anticipation, Markus walked over to his wife’s nightstand and opened the top drawer. From it he removed a single, solid purple hued adult diaper. There was only one in there, but that was the wonderful thing about magical drawers. There would always be only one in there. And it would always be in his wife’s size.
“Butt up,” he instructed as he unfolded the special undergarment and fluffed it for her. She bent her knees and planted her feet flat on the mattress so she could boost her hips up. He slid the diaper underneath her and nodded “Okay” when it was positioned correctly. “Any powder?” he asked.
“Mmm-mmm,” Alexandria said, closed lips. “Don’t like the smell.”
“Suit yourself,” Markus replied, and he began gently pulling the diaper up and fastening it on one tape at a time. When the last tape was secure he gave the landing zone a final push and was pleased to see the glowing runes reveal themselves. He shuddered at what he’d just done. Now, no one but him could take Alexandria’s diaper off. Not even her.
Now it was his turn. He laid down and she rolled over to fetch a similar diaper, though in his size and colored black. The reminder of what he’d done, what she’d just committed to for him, echoed in his mind with every crinkle of Alexandria’s that reached his ears.
“Butt up,” she said. He copied her movements and tossed his pelvis towards the ceiling, bridging it until she gave him the okay. He winced when she grabbed his penis and quickly stroked it.
“Ria!” he whined. “That’s cheating!”
“Sorry,” she said, but she didn’t really mean it. “Just figure I’d tease it while it was out. Powder?”
He considered it, but declined. “No thanks.” She hated the smell. He laid there and held his breath while she brought the diaper up.
“Penis up, or penis down?” she asked.
“Up,” Markus answered without hesitation. His diaper had the exact same spell on it that hers did. If he didn’t put it on, he wouldn’t be able to take it off, and adjusting himself mid coitus as he grew erect would be just this side of wearing a chastity cage.
Alexandria must have been thinking the same thing; hence the wink while she adjusted him and then taped his diaper on for him. The runes glowed to life with the fourth and final tape. They were now officially each other’s prisoners, at least when it came to matters of underwear and toileting.
Markus sat up drew Alexandria into a tender embrace. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” she whispered back. “What now?”
They considered the mattress; contemplated getting right to business as it were, crawling beneath the comforter and getting amorous, but it was a fleeting thought. Diaper sex was just no fun while dry. While not uncomfortable, far from it, Makrus felt he would rub himself raw if they started the night’s festivities in earnest; especially without baby powder.
“How about we get a drink and watch a movie?” he suggested.
Alexandria traced a circle around his nipples and ran her hands down his chest. “I think one of those would be a very good idea.
The movie that they started watching wasn’t important. They weren’t even paying attention to it, really. It was a romantic comedy. Something light and airy like hot popcorn. An attractive man falling in love with an attractive woman, both insisting that they weren’t that attractive, or whose lives didn’t have time for love when suddenly converging onto one another. It probably had some kind of pithy title; a play on the word love, or perhaps a reference to the general premise or setting in which the romance took place in. ‘Bushes of Love’ or something. If you’d seen one you’d seen them all.
It didn’t matter in the slightest to the loving couple. It was really just a more interesting timekeeper than staring at the clock in the kitchen. What was important was how the love birds sat there on the couch, naked save for the diapers they’d just put each other in, cuddled up like teenagers still scared to go past first base. They basked in each other’s presence on the couch. To either side of them was a wine glass drained dry of its contents…twice.
Arcadian wine: It was practically grape juice to the Fae Folk and the Children of Twilight. To those with more mortal and tangible constitutions, however, it was incredibly expensive, potent, and rare. Even the incredibly wealthy only broke open a bottle of the stuff on special occasions.
They’d just finished the last of theirs. Six months of patience well spent, all things considered. Now it was just the old waiting game while their minds raced ahead of what their bodies would likely do to one another.
The delightfully peculiar thing about Arcadian wine is that it was not a proper wine or spirit in the traditional sense. One could guzzle the stuff by the barrel and the room in their stomach was the only limiter to consumption. You would not get drunk on it, your reflexes would not be slowed, nor your senses dimmed nor your speech slurred. Sexual performance certainly wasn’t negatively impacted. No amount of memory loss would occur, you wouldn’t pass out, and there was zero chance of dying from drinking too much.
People had died from Arcadian wine, of course, but that was for indirect reasons entirely. Arcadian wine carried none of the physically debilitating effects of alcohol, but a single glass would hit your inhibitions as though it were hundred proof whiskey. People died on Arcadian wine as a direct consequence of acting out what they normally thought were bad ideas. Nothing about the body was impacted but the judgment was just as quashed and the inhibitions just as unburdened.
There are scholars who believe that the stuff is responsible for alcohol in general being called “liquid courage” and every other brew is simply a cheap imitation of the original recipe.
So the couple drained their glasses twice over, cuddled on the couch, and were waiting for it to fully kick in. Not that they needed courage, but a lack of inhibition certainly helped communication and exploration. It was hard to be embarrassed or worried or hesitate with the stuff of Faerie muddying up your blood. For them Arcadian wine was less ‘Liquid Courage’ and more of a ‘Potent Passion Punch’.
The wine from the vines of Faerie had one other thing in common with its more terrestrial variants: Drink enough of it fast enough and the second place it would hit you was your bladder. Both husband and wife felt the powerful twinge in their bladder, aching and begging for the release. It had really gone right through the both of them.
Without hesitation, each relaxed and flooded their crinkling undergarments, flashing Mona Lisa smiles to the air and humming lightly while the wetness splashed and spread between their legs causing their diapers to swell and subtly forcing their legs apart. There was no hesitation. No disgust or cognitive dissonance. No thinking about anything other than the warm wet squishiness caressing their skin and not being concerned at all about the source or the hygiene involved.
That would all come later if it came at all.
“Oh yeah,” Markus whispered. “I’m feelin’ it.”
Alexandria leaned over and laid her head on his shoulder. “Me too,” she purred.
And so without further preamble they began the night’s festivities. There on the couch Alexandria started by swinging her leg over Markus’s lap, straddling him, grabbing the back of his head and shoving her glorious naked tits in his face.
Markus felt himself grow hard inside his plastic prison and leaned forward into her, kissing her breasts and running his hands down her shoulders and back while she started to rock and grind into him.
Determined to prolong the main event until it was just the right circumstances, Markus grit his teeth and stood up, carrying his lady wife with him, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and be carried like a child to the nursery rather than a bride to the bedroom.
They weren’t going to spend their anniversary on the couch. Ria teased him kissing his neck and shoulders while he carried her back into the boudoir, television be damned. They probably wouldn’t remember what the plot was, anyways. There would be neither Netflix, nor ‘chill’ this blissful night.
Markus dumped Alexandria back on the bed and rammed himself up against her, the pulpy wet masses taped around their waists colliding with each other while they gyrated and teased one another. Under other circumstances, such absence of penile penetration might be referred to as ‘dry humping’, but given what they were wearing that would be far from accurate.
The language of eroticism and romance is so imprecise at the best of times. That’s why they have bards.
Mark played with her breasts. Ria clawed at his back. He gave her a love bite on the neck that would last for three days after tonight and she kissed him so deeply and ferociously when she was done she was nibbling on the bottom of his lip. He rolled over and grabbed her hair. She grinned and pulled back, throwing more of her grinding thrusting gyrating weight onto his pulsating excited manhood, with him bucking back, both of them working even harder than usual to compensate for the wet warm barriers between them.
Oh how their loins already ached for release! Oh how the simpler, more unrefined parts of their brains wanted to immediately give in and leap over the edge of lust until they were both spent in under five minutes like a pair of jungle cats or a younger inexperienced flings in a cheap hotel the night of junior prom!
It was not to be, fortunately. Anniversaries were for better memories than fumbling and rutting around like animals and virgins. Alexandria and Markus were better lovers and better mages than all of that.
“Hold on,” she warned, slowing his pace and putting a finger to his lips.
She crawled off of him, giving the front of his diaper a playful squeeze, enjoying the feeling of his member through the padding. Markus wiggled and grinned at the touch, but was just a tad impatient. Good. He was riled up enough to be bothered by the pause. “I’ve got a better idea,” Alexandria said, bending over to grab something from under the bed. It was time for her first surprise.
“What are you doing?” Markus asked, deeply curious and wanting and fighting the urge to keep masturbating right in front of her.
Out from under the bed Alexandria pulled a linked pair of cuffs, each cuff sparkling with engrained enchantments. It had been a while since they’d used this toy, but she remembered how much he’d enjoyed it. “Paddle,” she said.
A nova of light flashed out from the dangling restraints, and after the spots had cleared from the couple’s eyes, in her hand rested a firm spanking paddle. “Off and bend over,” Alexandria commanded.
Markus was only too happy to obey, shimmying down off the bed and then splaying himself face down on the mattress. “Safeword is tofu,” she reminded him.
“Tofu,” he repeated. Some people used colors for their safewords, others had more specific words; spells and incantations that prevented any and all harm. Mark and Ria chose ‘tofu’ because there was ironically no organic way to work it into any conversation, sex play or otherwise, and so it rang out to the ears and was easy to remember.
Speaking of ringing out…
The piece of wood, long hard rectangular wood (or rather an incredible facsimile of the stuff) collided full on with Markus’s padded backside. Whether by an extra enchantment, or that she was just that damn good at swinging it, the paddle sailed deceptively fast through the air and stung like all get-out. Those eight years of girl’s softball from highschool through college had only been a start, but they’d been a very good start.
“You know I don’t give warm-up swings,” his wife reminded him.
“And that extra one was for swearing,” she said. “Now Count!”
Even with the extra cushioning of his padded underwear, Markus winced and squirmed beneath his wife’s gaze. With the hot stinging on his thighs reminding him just how intense his lady love could be, Markus was regretting that the bedroom lights were still on and that they cast the perfect shadow of Alexandria’s silhouette, paddle in her grip. He might as well be looking into a mirror.
He closed his eyes and braced himself. “One…”
“Don’t close your eyes.”
How did she know?! He opened them in time to watch the shadow puppet on the wall make its next delightfully painful stroke.
“Two!” he yelped. His head was already starting to buzz as the pain endorphins flooded his brain. What a rush.
“Threeeee!” His vision spun and he squealed. He was so thankful that he was wearing the diaper at that moment. It was doing more work than just keeping the bed dry.
He felt her weight on the bed as she sidled up to him, reaching her arm over and grabbing his hips and hugging him to her for added control and leverage. “Smaller,” Ria whispered to the paddle.
Another flash of light and the big slobber knocker had shrunken itself down to a more manageable one handed model.
WHACK WHACK WHACK! Left, right, left! Alexandria bypassed the padding completely and went straight for the backs of her husband’s thighs. He started sweating bullets, just imagining how he’d likely wince sitting down, tomorrow, but was thankful that any resulting bruises would easily be covered up by pants.
“Three-four-five-six!” he screamed out rapid fire.
WHACK! Right on the right thigh and it was somehow harder than the previous five strokes.
“No,” she said, “THAT was six. Do we need to start over? Did baby forget how to count? Does he need a new lesson?”
He gulped. Yes? No? He didn’t know if he could last another six strokes like that. More to the point, if she started over once, she’d start over again. It was intoxicatingly maddening. Being taunted and talked down to, pulling his psyche into a stinging morass of sub and little space. She really had his number.
Perhaps that’s what love was.
“No. No start over,” he said. “Please no start over.” He was breathing so hard that it was getting difficult to form a coherent sentence.
WHACK! That one thankfully, came down squarely on his bottom. The diaper absorbed most of the impact but he still felt it. “Tofu?” she asked.
“Okay,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ve got another idea.” He felt her fingers worm their way into the back of his diaper’s waistband.
Oh no, and yet, oh yes! He hadn’t considered the full ramifications of the spell! “Let me give your thighs a break.” She was the only one who could take off his diaper, but nothing about the built in enchantments said that it had to be with her undoing the tapes! His pulse quickened as she grabbed the back of his diaper and hiked it down to just above his knees.
Instinctively he tried to squirm and get up, but it was a simple thing for her to throw her weight down on his back and use the leverage against him. “What are you doing?” he asked, excited and slightly afraid at what the answer might be…
“You’ll feel it,” she teased. “Trust me.” Then he heard her command, “Open!”
“Open?” he echoed, confused.
But she wasn’t talking to him. The top dresser drawer rattled, and through the shadows on the wall, he could make out her placing the paddle down so that two cylindrical shaped objects could shoot out and land squarely in the palm of her hand.
An airy popping sound registered in Markus’s ears, pressure release and air wishing out of the container like soda gushing out of a half full two liter. Then he heard his wife repeat herself. “Open,” she said. Curiously, nothing rattled or reacted. Then he felt her finger plunge inside of him.
This time, Alexandria actually was talking to him!
Markus’s eyes bulged in surprise and she went deeper and deeper into his anus. What was happening? Surely her fingers couldn’t be that long, could it? It had to be his imagination multiplying the sensation by the surprise! He let out a brief exhale when she pulled her finger out, but the relief was short lived as a self-lubricating plug took the place of her digits. “That should keep it in long enough,” Alexandria tutted.
That hit home! The first cylindrical object had been a pill bottle, no doubt. “You put something inside me?”
A bare handed smack on his exposed rear was the response Markus got, both stimulating his pain receptors, flooding his brain with more endorphins and pumping the plug into him ever so slightly.
“SEVEN!” he yelled, clenching his teeth and refusing to blink even while her hand gently caressed his bottom.
“Very good. You didn’t lose count,” she cooed.
Instead of spanking further, she started to gently massage his buttocks, kneading at the muscles much in the way a cat gets comfortable on a fluffy pillow. The contrast and relief made him growl out in lust.
He could feel something dissolving inside of him. Something powerful. And potent. And completely, mindnumblingly arousing.
Markus’s already erect penis felt like it was vibrating; pulsating like the top layer of Vesuvius minutes before destroying Pompei.
FWAP! FWAP! FWAP!
“Ten! Ten! Ten!” He’d lost count and was too focused trying to maintain some scrap of control. “Ten! Ten! Ten! Ten!” Impotently he kicked the air as she smacked and slapped his buttocks, each impact seeming to push the, potent concoction even deeper inside him while he quietly foamed at the mouth.
He was going to do it. He was going to cum. He was going to lose all control all over the nice satin bed sheets! “Tofu!” He yelled. “Tofu! Pull my diaper up. Please!”
Alexandria needed no second plea. “Okay, hon,” she whispered. “Okay. Hold on.” Quickly yet gently, she took her weight off him. The potent aphrodisiac had had enough time to melt away and do its work, so she spared a millisecond to remove the plug keeping it in just before she yanked the now cooled but still soaked padding back up over her husband’s hips, providing a safety barrier between his manhood and the mattress.
He dived back down face first like a champion prizefighter that had been paid off by the mob. “Now!” He told her. “Now!”
Again, she did not need a second request. Her bare hand thudded with sturdy plastic backing.
And that last concussive force was enough to send him hurtling over the edge into full orgasmic pleasure. Everything shook as the dam broke and he helplessly came into the front of his diaper, his penis tickling and tingling with ecstacy. If his body hadn’t been so wracked with exhaustive pleasure, he might have started humping the mattress like a puppy and thank her for the privilege.
For her part, Alexandria simply took her spot beside him and gently caressed his back while he spasmed all the way to the carpet, practically melting off the mattress and lying on his back while his base bodily functions spiraled delightfully out of control. The intensity was such that if they hadn’t done this so many times before, one might assume that it was their first.
“Thank you,” he gasped, panting as the last of his seed leaked out into the sopping wet padding, his cock pulsing and throbbing in time with his pulse. “Thank you. Oh gods. Thank you!”
“Welcome,” she chirped smugly. “Very welcome. Now what abooooou-?” The thought lay unfinished as the moment Markus caught his breath, he pounced on her. Holding her down, pinning her by the wrists, he scrambled on top of her, putting just enough of his weight over her so that no matter how hard she struggled or kicked and squirmed around, she couldn’t get free.
“No…hrrnnn…fair!” Alexandria grunted, trying to escape his grasp, failing, and loving every moment of it. Now it was her turn to be teased and restrained. Now it was her turn to be selfish. Her turn, as some call it, to ‘brat’. “No…fair, Mark!”
Markus slowed his breathing, taking back control and thoroughly enjoying it, but not as much as the wild and anticipatory look on his wife’s face. “How is it not fair, Ria?” he asked tauntingly. “Because you’re not winning anymore?” Neither had known they were playing some kind of game with winners or losers until the idea had sprung forth from his mouth.
But now that it had happened, it sounded like good fun and both started slipping into their roles.
“Seems like you already won,” Ria taunted from underneath him. “You already finished.”
A playful fire lit up between her husband’s eyes. “Not with you, I’m not.’
“What are you gonna do?” she whispered seductively. “Go for twosies? Try to grind through both of our diapers and lap me? Or are you gonna take mine off and cheat?” She waited for the idea to sink in and take root. “If you beg me nice, Mark, I’ll take yours off and I’ll let you play with yourself while I watch.”
It was a challenge. A tempting one at that. But he wanted to play a different game. He straddled Alexandria and forced her wrists together. He leaned back, putting more of his weight on her abdomen, enjoying the now muted crinkle and the wet squish beneath him. Using one hand, he leaned forward and kept both of her wrists out of the way. Then like the mighty god Thor, he held his free hand out and spoke.
Just as it had with her, the charm inside the implement responded to his voice command and leapt up from the carpet, depositing itself safely into his palm.
“I thought you already did,” Ria joked.
He gave her nothing but the terrible, lustful hunger, the hunger to see her squirm and writhe; begging him for something he would not give. Arcadian wine had that effect on him. She wasn’t much for spankings, but she did love the sound they made and the sting of the paddle on her thighs could be most pleasant when done right. “Whatcha gonna do?” Alexandria asked, “Flip me over and give me a taste of my own medicine?” It was half a question and half a hint.
Her husband answered, but did not take the hint. He had better plans. Squeezing the handle and with intent, he spoke not to her but to the item in his hand. “Wand,” he said. “Vibrating.”
The same white hot aura erupted from the paddle and when the corona had faded, the diapered man now wielded a rapidly shaking rod where the still yet flat paddle had been. Alexandria’s eyes widened in delight and horror. “You wouldn’t dare!”
Before she could retort, he swung his leg back off of her abdomen while still keeping her wrists pinned, staying to her side and profile. And like Captain Ahab stabbing from the depths of Hell, he thrust the vibrating wand straight on between her legs, its shaking resonating all the way through the layers and layers of soaked pulp and padding, causing her to start breathing in quiet little gasps.
She’d stopped kicking. She’d stopped struggling all together, for in truth, she wanted this. The pinned wrists were all for show. She reveled in the intensity of the wand pleasuring her without her direct say so. And ever so tauntingly, she gasped and let out little mewling growls while he moved the wand back and forth over her padded crotch, staying in just the right spot long enough to please her before purposefully moving it somewhere else.
He smiled while she planted her bare feet and gently started bucking and grinding into the wand, her pelvis thrusting and moving into it and with it; a puppy dog hungry for her treat.
“Ooooooooh,” Alexandria moaned. “Ooooooooooooh. Marrrrrrrk. Mark. Mark!”
He did not join her, though he knew she would have loved him to; to hear his voice mix and mingle with hers; losing all control and composure. It wasn’t time for that. Not yet. Instead, he prepared the most gruesome of incantations he’d learned. “Esto sicut virgo ante noctem nuptiarum.”
The vibrating of his wand continued, unabated. Ria’s moaning did not. Her eyes, which had drooped pleasantly closed, shot open. “What did you?” she asked. The only thing that was wet between her legs suddenly was her diaper.
“You talked about lapping, my love, but I need more time to recover.” An almost playfully cruel smile sprouted. “So I just started you over.”
‘Nooooooo!” she screamed, kicking and struggling once more. Her wrists broke free of his grip and she bounded the mattress by her side in frustration. He pressed the wand back into her sex, just enough to tease her so that she gripped the bedsheets in frustration and ecstacy.
Then he pulled the wand away. Just pulled it. Left it buzzing and dangled the handle by his thumb and forefinger high up above her.
“No-o-o-o-o-oooooo!” Ria whined and pawed at it like a kitten. The whining lasted only a few seconds as horniness and impatience got the better of her. Her arms plummeted downward towards the waistband of her diaper, with fingers desperately peeling away the tapes.
The runes on the landing zone held firm and so did the tapes. The spell was intact. She did not put the diaper on, so she could not take it off. Still, Markus thought, it was cute watching her try, watching her struggle. Watching her fail to so much as get her fingers down past the waistband. She knew better, of course, but part of their play was desperation and helplessness, and he was only too happy to help her along.
Wand hidden behind his back, out of reach, Markus took his free hand and started teasing her nipples; gently caressing them one at a time, and then adding in little pinches until they became hard and erect. Lovingly, Markus leaned over and used his mouth to suckle at one teat while he used his free hand to tease and pinch the other even harder.
Meanwhile, Ria’s hands feverishly pawed at the front of her diaper, rubbing and grinding while her hips boosted up again and again and again into her own palms, huffing for release that wasn’t quick to come. Markus waited until her moaning renewed and approached apex and then stopped sucking.
“ESTO SICUT VIRGO-!”
“No!” she yelped. “No. Not again! Not again! Tofu!” She kept rubbing herself, trying to finish before he could complete the spell a second time.
“Beg me,” he hissed. “Beg me to let you finish.”
“Pleeeeeease let me finish,” Alexandria pleaded. “Please!”
Markus waited until her hands stopped. “No,” he growled and watched her face drop. “I’ll do it myself.” He plunged the wand back where it belonged, sending her into shrieks of delight.
She gave up trying to resist and started screaming as she repurposed her hands into teasing her nipples until she was bucking now. “OH! OH! OOOOOOOOOOOH!” And then a pleased sigh as the last of the air leaked out of her lungs.
He watched with utter love and satisfaction as she went limp. “Off,” he whispered to the toy, making it still. He tossed it to the side, not taking his eyes off her, but was still wonderfully caught off guard when she leapt up and wrapped her arms around him, peppering him with kisses and dragging him down to the mattress with all his weight.
“Thank you,” she panted. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…”
In the moment, there was nothing left to do but to pepper back with a thousand more sweet kisses until they were both still and warming each other with nothing but their bodies.
Time stretched out in the silence of their bedroom; their heartbeats in sync, making beautiful music together. Okay. Time to clean up.
Gently, he pried her arms off of him, disentangling himself and nudging her head off of his chest. Like getting a particularly comfortable cat out of one’s lap, it was more difficult than it might seem from the outside, with her moaning and whining for his flesh on hers in their post coital daze. Arcadian wine tended to have that effect on her.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” Several rapid kisses and cupping her left breast in his hand got her to open up like a flower for him. Standing up from the bed, he arched his back and groaned, feeling the full sagging weight of the diaper between his legs now that a good chunk of the abused pulp had broken off and settled at the bottom.
Standing at her bedside, he looked to the left towards their shared chest of drawers to the right towards her nightstand. “Diapers or panties?” he asked, his voice registering just above a whisper.
Eyes still closed, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled in a light purring hum. “Diapers, please.”
She couldn’t see it, but he was smiling. Good. He’d wanted to properly change her. Even if they didn’t go any further than they already had, even if they just cuddled in bed the rest of the night as they drifted off, there was something that made it feel so much more intimate when they were both padded up.
He opened up her nightstand drawer and got out another diaper for his beloved. “Scooch over to the side?” he asked as he fluffed the new garment out.
Her eyes remained closed. “Mm-mm,” she said. “No.” It was a cute, playful squeak. She was far too comfortable laying spread eagle in the middle of the mattress.
He shook his head and smiled. “Fine. Have it your way, love.” He climbed back into bed and knelt between her thighs so he could start changing her. The runes on the landing zone glowed bright white at his touch, sensing it was him. He skillfully peeled back the tapes so that barely a sound was made and opened the sodden padding.
She shuddered as the fresh hair swooped in on her genitals like an aftershock. But she kept her eyes closed still, luxuriating in the cool clean feeling of his touch as he gently wiped her down.
“Knees up,” he instructed, and reluctantly, she obeyed, retracting and pulling her knees all the way to her belly button so that she didn’t accidentally clock him upside the head with the heel of her foot. She shuddered again as he gently swept his hands over her buttocks and hole. A little boost below let him leverage her hips up enough to slip the used diaper out and slide it off to the side and slide the fresh one beneath her.
“No powder please,” she said, still in a post orgasmic haze.
He took a moment to ball up her used diaper and place it in a nearby lidded garbage can. “I know,” he smiled. “We’re out of unscented…”
She finished the thought. “And I hate the smell.”
“Guess I’ll have to find another way to dry you out,” he teased, taking his position back between her legs. In truth, she was probably already dry enough to be sealed in. The residue from baby wipes tended to air dry quickly enough. Still, he took the time to gently blow upon her mound and on her lower lips, tickling her with the very air from his lungs.
“Ooooh,” she moaned. “If you’re trying to dry me out,” she said breathily, “You’re doing a bad job.”
He simply said, “I know.” And finished rediapering her, pulling the garment snugly up between her thighs and locking her in tape by tape by tape by tape. A slight glow and a humming tone that only she could hear, and once again, she was his prisoner, and he hers.
Freshly changed and feeling renewed now that her nethers had been so lovingly cleaned and dried, she gazed softly up at him from the bed, bending her knees
“Happy Anniversary, dear,” he gave her an almost (almost) chaste peck on the lips.
She opened her eyes, sat up, and grabbed the back of his head. Her tongue probed into his mouth once more, a low moan humming through her while she reached between his legs and groped at the soggy padding he yet wore. Almost immediately, she felt his manhood stiffen and begin to throb through the padding.
Kiss unbroken, she rolled him over onto his back, before finally allowing herself to come back up for air. “Happy Anniversary, Mark.” She returned the delicate kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Ria”
“Wanna go again?”
Beads of anticipation formed on his forehead. “Yeah,” he panted. “Yeah, I really do.”
She took one of his spare diapers out of his nightstand drawer and started to fluff it. “Me, too. Let’s get you changed, hydrate, and then see where things take us. Deal?”
Unblinkingly, he gazed up at her while she undid the tapes, his mind filled only with love. “Deal.”
In any sufficiently advanced enough relationship, purest love is indistinguishable from the most tainted of lusts.