The Blue Room

By BlankRasa
published December 29, 2020
6008 words

As Adrian and Caleb’s training progresses, they’re moved to The Blue Room, a mockery of a child’s playroom.

Part 2: The Blue Room

Unlike the rather spartan brown room, the blue room was full of objects. The floor was carpeted wall-to-wall with a sea life theme. Two of the walls had large shelves with many angled bins, revealing a wide variety of toys for all ages. Against a third wall was a single bed large enough for two with sheets and a pair of pillows decorated with rockets and stars. And the fourth wall was a single huge mirror. There was a large TV and a long shelf of cartoon DVDs below it.

Other than a few details, it could have bed the bedroom of a somewhat spoiled child. There was no dresser for clothes at all; there was just an open bin filled with briefs in a variety of colors, a pointed reminder that they wouldn’t be wearing any other clothes anyway. And above the bed, where a real kid’s bedroom might have had the resident’s name on display, was their mantra, spelled out in cheerful multicolored letters: Carefree little boys get to cum.

They pulled off their shorts and considered what to do. Not that they hadn’t been jerking off together for days, but after last night, doing it in the same bed felt a little more intimate than they wanted. They both looked around the room, considering options, both too eager to get release to suggest taking turns.

Finally, Adrian plopped himself down on one end of the bed, pulled his underwear down, and said “carefree, right?”

Caleb sighed. “Carefree,” he agreed, and did the same on the other end, and they jerked off together.

Carefree little boys get to cum.

Caleb decided to go for a walk, leaving Adrian alone to check out the playroom in more detail. The toys would surely have been a bonanza to a real little kid, but there weren’t many that Adrian - who still had the mind of a college student, whatever he was wearing - found particularly interesting. And the TV didn’t have cable, or even antenna reception; the only use was watching movies from a collection that looked like it was assembled for kids under seven.

Finally he pulled out the legos, poured them out on the floor, and sat cross-legged in the middle of the room messing around with them. It wasn’t the most intellectually engaging activity in the world, but he kept glancing over at himself in the mirror, and the sight of himself acting like a little kid kept him aroused enough to hold his interest, and enough that, partway through, he took a quick break to stop in extra jack off session, lying on the floor by the legos.

Carefree little boys get to cum.

At dinner, Adrian worked up the courage to raise a concern with Mrs. P. “There’s only one bed. For both of us,” he pointed out.

“Little boys often share a bed and it’s not a big deal,” she responded matter-of-factly. “I didn’t make a mistake, did I. You are both little boys, right?”

Both of them looked away from her, but mumbled agreement, and felt a surge of arousal as a reward for the admission.

That night, the boys stayed as far apart as they could in the bed, torn between the uncomfortable forced intimacy of sharing the bed, and desire for the arousal - and exquisite orgasms - that came from giving into it.

In the morning, they got dressed in fresh briefs from the bin. The underwear in the bin came in a greater variety of styles than the batch Caleb had gotten from Mrs. P earlier. Adrian found a pair that was mostly blue with a red border and a teddy bear face on the butt, which felt even more childish than the stuff he’d been wearing, and he felt a fresh shiver of arousal as he put it on. Caleb found a skimpy striped pair with a stitched bumble bee where the fly should have been.

After breakfast, they discovered that a tire swing had been put up by the river, and Caleb and Adrian took turns jumping in. Once their underwear was utterly soaked, they pulled it off and kept going. They tried to ignore the cars going by, but Adrian had no doubt that the word “special” was on the mind of most of the people who saw them.

Naked and dripping, they went inside. Mrs. P had helpfully placed towels by the interest, so they dried off. Just the process of rubbing themselves dry was enough, so both of them came there in the entryway. Carefree little boys get to cum. Then they went up to the playroom to get dressed - as dressed as ever, anyway - for lunch. Adrian was excited to discover a pair of black-and-grey batman briefs, while Caleb, getting used to the fly-less style, found a pair with blue stripes and a pick up truck on the front.

The spent some of the afternoon playing with a programmable robot that could walk around and make noises, taking turns writing programs to make it stomp through legos the other had set up. After a while Caleb was so turned on that he just pulled his underwear down where he sat and jerked off. Adrian just kept playing a bit longer.

Eventually Caleb took out some crayons and paper and lay on the floor, legs bent above him, drawing.

It occurred to Adrian that none of their actual belongings had gotten moved into the blue room with them, not even Caleb’s beloved pencils and sketchbook, and neither of them had commented or cared. Caleb loved drawing, but apparently he’d rather give up his pencils and fool around with crayons just to work towards his next orgasm.

Bored of the toys that were interesting enough and that he could play with alone, Adrian wandered outside. Going for a walk no longer seemed appealing enough; it wasn’t something a little boy would do, which meant it didn’t turn him on, which meant his next orgasm wouldn’t be as good. Instead he climbed the trees nearby. Scraping up his bare arms and legs only added to the appeal.

The next few days were consumed by all manner of play. Sometimes they went outside, but their world had shrunk: where before they had been freely roaming the backwoods nearby, now they stayed within the large yard that properly belonged to the house.

Most of their time, though, was spent in the playroom, exploring the bins of toys. It wasn’t that playing with toys was especially fun or interesting; but the thought of how intense the next orgasm would be was more compelling than any other activity. The pursuit of that next orgasm had taken over their lives entirely, every minute of the day devoted to performing the role of a little boy to earn the next cum.

Relatedly, they started cumming more. In the brown room they’d fallen into a routine: once in the morning, once at night, slip back to the bedroom in the afternoon for a bonus once in a while. In the blue room, though, they were each cumming five, six, sometimes seven times a day. It was such a mood kill to clean them up, and they were both in such a constant state of arousal that they didn’t need much stimulation to orgasm, so they started cumming right into the underwear. When one of them got horny enough he’d stop playing for a moment, rub the front of his underwear a couple times, groan and spasm in pleasure, and then change into fresh underwear and go back to playing like nothing had happened.

Carefree little boys get to cum.

After a day and a half of that, constantly changing seemed like a hassle too, so they’d just go back to playing in the cum stained briefs, letting three or four build up before they bothered to change.

Their routine of jerking off together in the morning and evening remained, but it changed as well. Sharing a bed quickly started to feel more natural. On the second morning in the blue room, Adrian was woken up by Caleb pouncing on top of him, and the two of them wrestled playfully for a bit until he managed to sort-of pin Caleb, lying right on top of them.

“I was thinking,” Caleb whispered to the boy on top of him. “Carefree little boys don’t understand sex. They just play together and do what feels good.” He took a breath; Adrian could feel Caleb’s heart beating, nervous but excited about what he was asking for. “So if we…I mean, we could…we’re carefree little boys, we don’t know any better.” Adrian didn’t say anything, but showed his agreement by sliding his hips over until the bulge in his underwear lined up right next to Caleb’s and swayed back and forth a few times, letting their erections rub against each other through the two thin layers of fabric, until they both came. Carefree little boys get to cum.

After that, every evening they’d half-wrestle, half play, entangling their bodies and rubbing against each other until they both orgasmed, then drift off to sleep entwined where they were. Carefree little boys get to cum.

In the morning, they’d wake up near each other, having twisted and turned in the night. Caleb would roll right next to Adrian, put one hand on the bulge in his own underwear and one on Adrian’s and rub both gently until they came. Carefree little boys get to cum.

Adrian started to lose track of time. Life was an endless cycle of playing and orgasms, always pleasurable, but always fundamentally the same. One night, while tangled up with Caleb, he reflected on things in a moment of post-orgasm clarity. There was a world outside this room, and a life he was supposedly going back to. But everything out there seemed unimportant when he could just stay here in a life of ease and pleasure.

He wasn’t sure exactly how long they’d spent in the blue room when he noticed Caleb’s behavior changing. More than three days, certainly. And less than seven, probably. But at some point, subtly at first, Caleb started acting a little different. When he first suggested that they start playing with some of the toys they’d originally deemed too childish, Adrian was prepared to believe his explanation that it was just for variety. But Caleb seemed increasingly able to be entertained for an hour just sliding cars around the floor and saying ‘vroom’. And he started to want to watch the movies, which Adrian found painfully boring.

He might have ignored those, if not for the other changes. Caleb had been drawing every day, and at first, despite being in crayon, his drawings showed the skill he’d acquired from years of practice. But then they started to get simpler and simpler. Caleb started to grip the crayons with his whole fist, giving up any fine control at all. He started to hold forks that way at meals, too, and dropped food sometimes as he tried to eat that way.

Finally, one evening shortly before bed, Caleb picked one of the children’s books from the shelf, brought it to Adrian, and asked Adrian to read it to him. “You can’t read it?” Adrian asked, suspecting he knew the answer.

“Nope.” Caleb shook his head as Caleb’s underwear tented at the thought of being too little to read.

So Adrian sat on their bed and read a story to Caleb, about a little bear and his friends, while Caleb leaned on Adrian’s shoulder and looked at the pictures. And at the end of the story, Adrian reached down and rubbed his friend’s penis through his underwear, and Caleb came quickly, snuggling into Adrian as he writhed with pleasure. Carefree little boys get to cum.

“There’s a new mantra, isn’t there?” Adrian whispered. Caleb, head resting on Adrian’s shoulder, nodded sleepily. Adrian thought about what that meant. He remembered feeling like it was a bad and scary thing, the last time there was a new mantra. He even remembered trying to resist, back before he’d realized he was a carefree little boy. But now he was a carefree little boy, and it didn’t seem so bad, and maybe he’d like the new mantra, too. “What is it?” he asked.

“Dumb little boys get to cum,” Caleb whispered.

That made sense, Adrian realized. That’s what Caleb had become, a dumb little boy. His free hand, the one Caleb wasn’t leaning on, found its way to his crotch, and he touched his penis gently through his own briefs, thinking about that.

Dumb little boys get to cum.

Gently massaging his penis, he let it echo around his head until it sounded exactly, obviously true, and he repeated it out loud. “Dumb little boys get to cum.” And he felt an intense, wonderful orgasm flow from his penis through his whole body. He felt sleepy too, so he closed his eyes and wondered what it was going to be like to be a dumb little boy.

In the morning after breakfast, he tried to play with cars with Caleb. Shoving toy cars around had been boring yesterday, but suddenly it turned him on just to thinking about it. At first, it was hard to do it right; he kept wanting things to happen, to attach the cars to a story or at least a motivation. But that wasn’t what Caleb wanted, and his own finely tuned compass, asking himself what was arousing, told him that was wrong. Dumb little boys weren’t telling a story, they just wanted to see the cars go.

Eventually, though, he began to find the trick. He couldn’t make the part of his brain that wanted action go away entirely, but he could let it fade into the background like an unimportant distraction. And with that part quiet, he could just focus on the cars - their bright colors, the way they moved, the noises he and Caleb made for them. Once in a while, he glanced over at the mirror, and he liked what he saw: a pair of dumb little boys in their underwear pushing cars around.

With one hand still on a car, he reached down and rubbed his crotch. He kept playing until he orgasmed, when the intense spasm of pleasure took over his whole body and left him wiggling. Dumb little boys get to cum.

Once he’d found the trick once, it was easy to apply to other things one by one. By evening, he’d stopped trying to move carefully, letting himself be a clumsy boy who kept dropping toys and silverware. Mrs. P must have noticed, because after dinner she went up to the blue room and put up another set of multicolor letter decals below the first. Caleb asked him to read it. “It says ‘Dumb little boys get to cum’,” he said. Both boys nodded in agreement and rubbed their briefs, considering this obvious truth. Dumb little boys get to cum.

He wasn’t keeping track of time, but Adrian must have continued like this for a few more days, not so much forgetting his adult knowledge and skills as putting them aside. He and Caleb spent hours with simple toys, pressing buttons to make lights, sliding blocks along tracks, fitting shapes into holes. They watched repetitive movies and sang along when cartoon characters told them to, snuggled together on the bed, each rubbing the other’s penis. Dumb little boys get to cum.

They still went outside sometimes, playing incoherent games of running around and finding plants and rocks and bugs and chasing each other, pausing when necessary to orgasm right there in the yard. Dumb little boys get to cum.

Leaning not to read was harder; looking at letters and having them come together into words was so natural that it at first seemed impossible to make his brain stop that. But, bit by bit, he leaned to ignore that, to pay attention to the individual letters and refuse to let them form into words in his head.

Each night Caleb would ask him to read a book, and Adrian would do it, quietly thrilled that it was getting harder. When, one night, he discovered that he couldn’t read it at all, he had to pause to rub himself to orgasm right on the spot. Dumb little boys get to cum.

Then he and Caleb flipped through the book and just talked about the pictures, ignoring the words entirely. After that, they “read" simpler books together, flipping through and taking turns naming the animals or objects pictured.

By then, Caleb’s speech had gotten simpler. He rarely used multi-syllable words any more, limiting himself to simple words and short sentences. Adrian found himself beginning to do the same, letting the part of his brain that remembered big words drift away to a quiet rest where he just never thought to use them anymore.

And then, one morning, when Caleb rolled near Adrian, as he did every morning, he looked unhappy, and he reached over and rubbed Adrian’s underwear until Adrian came, but just kept rubbing himself for a while. Usually the boys came within a minute, if not less, and after several, Caleb stopped with a groan.

“I don’t wanna,” he informed Adrian.

“What’s happening?” Adrian asked.

“I just don’t wanna,” was all Caleb said.

The rest of the day, Caleb seemed increasingly aroused, and increasingly uncomfortable as he wasn’t able to orgasm. He spent much of the afternoon repeatedly rubbing against the bedpost, trying to squeeze out one more orgasm.

That night, when they huddled together in bed, Adrian asked. “Are there new words?”

Caleb nodded. “I don’t like them,” he added.

Adrian thought about it. He’d been scared of new mantras before too, and Caleb had helped him. And Caleb seemed miserable, and giving in seemed inevitable, so Adrian decided that helping his friend meant encouraging him to give in. So he reached his hand into Caleb’s underwear and gently held his penis. “It’s okay,” he said as he started to pull on it.

Just that seemed to be enough, because almost immediately, an orgasm burst out of Caleb, the cum escaping his briefs and landing on Adrian’s hand, the sheets, and the pillow.

Caleb shook with the intensity of it for what seemed like a long time, and then, still dazed and staring at the ceiling, whispered “I’m a helpless little boy.”

Adrian hadn’t expected him to say the phrase out loud, but now that Caleb had, he found the new mantra had slipped into his head as well.

Helpless little boys get to cum.

The new phrase floated through Adrian’s dreams, and in the morning, he had a tepid, disappointing orgasm. He wasn’t a helpless little boy, he didn’t want to be a helpless little boy, and now he knew in his heart that only helpless little boys got to cum.

Before going downstairs, they went to the underwear bin, as usual, to change into clean underwear for breakfast. Caleb got his underwear off, picked out a new pair, stared at for a moment, then held it out at Adrian. “Help, please,” he said.

Adrian looked at his naked friend, asking for help with the simple task of putting on underwear. Maybe Adrian shouldn’t have encouraged him, but it was too late. Caleb was a helpless little boy now. Adrian instructed Caleb in stepping into the underwear, then pulled it up and they went downstairs together.

Today it was Adrian’s turn to struggle. Seeing Caleb today convinced him that he didn’t want to be helpless. Caleb was suddenly dependent on Adrian for so many things - Adrian had to set up their movie because Caleb couldn’t figure out how to use the DVD player; when he just wanted to get a toy out, Caleb asked for Adrian’s help; when he stubbed his toe, he started sobbing until Adrian helped him calm down by holding him, speaking calmly, and then jerking Caleb off while Caleb nestled against him.

Helpless little boys get to cum.

Adrian didn’t want to start acting like Caleb was, and worried about what would happen if they were both acting like that. But after that weak orgasm that morning, it seemed he wasn’t going to be able to climax again until he accepted the new mantra. It was hard to concentrate on anything but rubbing against the nearest spare object trying to find release, but nothing worked.

It was shortly before bed when Caleb came over to try to help. “We’re already helpless,” Caleb told him, and grabbed Adrian’s penis through the fabric of his briefs.

And Adrian realized that he was already helpless. He was in a playroom, wearing only striped underwear with a friendly dinosaur on the front, playing all day, like he had been for days, letting another boy jerk him off, and he’d gone along with all of this without a complaint.

He didn’t need to decide he was a helpless little boy, because it was already true. And, as he realized that, he had his best orgasm yet. He lay on the ground shivering for minutes in the afterglow, with Caleb curled up next to him, hand on his penis the whole time. Helpless little boys get to cum.

The next morning, he and Caleb went to the bin to put on fresh underwear again. As Adrian started to put a new pair on, he felt the knowledge slip out of his grasp. He hadn’t intended to slip into helplessness so quickly, but he’d been learning for days how to let his skills fall away into the back of his mind where he couldn’t use them. Now it was a process that seemed to just be happening on its own, where he’d reach for some piece of knowledge and feel it slip away, replaced by a wave of arousal at being helpless in a new way.

With an effort, he managed to get his briefs on anyway, but helping Caleb was beyond him, so they walked downstairs together as they were.

Mrs. P, usually so professional and dispassionate, looked genuinely happy to see them. “Well, we’re running a bit ahead of schedule. I see I have two helpless little boys this morning.” She helped Caleb into the underwear he’d carried downstairs and then, to Adrian’s surprise, pulled his down. “Step out,” she told him. Confused, Adrian complied. She turned them around so they faced the right way and helped him back into them.

After breakfast, she escorted both of them up and put a new set of colored letters up under the other two. The boys couldn’t read them, but neither needed to to guess what they said.

Up to then, Mrs. P had always been a distant figure who they mostly saw at meals, but suddenly she was in their lives constantly.

She was there much of the day, deciding what they did. She took them outside and supervised them running around. She put on a movie for them. She let them just play with toys, helping them get toys in and out of the bins as needed. And the boys just played, and ran around, and came, a pair of carefree, dumb, helpless little boys.

Adrian didn’t really want to orgasm in front of her, but by now he was on such a hair trigger that he couldn’t really help it. In his constant state of arousal, all it took was reaching down to touch his aching penis in a moment of distraction to push himself to climax. After the second or third time it happened, it just became part of the rhythm of his life. Helpless little boys get to cum.

In the evening she gave them a bath together, tucked them into bed next to each other, and read them a story. The next morning, she was there in the morning before breakfast to help them change into fresh underwear.

The day continued in much the same rhythm as the previous one. She didn’t bother taking them downstairs for meals, instead bringing in plastic plates of simple foods they could eat with their fingers. And Caleb started to ask for her help using the bathroom, so she’d escort him there and back.

Adrian resolved to hold off on that as long as he could, at least. But late that afternoon, when he tried to go to the bathroom on his own, Mrs. P intercepted him. “Do you need to use the bathroom, Adrian?”

And that small nudge was all that was needed. Adrian could feel his memory of how to use the bathroom fall behind the same fog that had consumed so much of his knowledge. So he nodded.

She took his hand and walked him the ten steps down the hall to the bathroom and went inside with him. Not bothering to close the door, she pulled down his underwear, put her hands on his side, and gently maneuvered him to turn around and sit on the toilet. After he finished, she told him to stand up and turn around, then patiently wiped his butt clean.

By the time she was done, Adrian’s penis was fully erect again. He looked at her, hand hovering near his penis. “Go on,” she said, and with two quick tugs, he came against the bathroom wall. Helpless little boys get to cum.

Once he was done, she wiped the cum off him and pulled up his underwear clinically.

The next morning, Adrian woke up in the morning with his leg feeling damp. He pulled off the covers and saw a big wet spot where he and Caleb has been sleeping.

Caleb woke up groggily and looked at it, then at his own underwear. Given how soaked they were, there was no question that Caleb had been the source.

Caleb was visibly torn between humiliation and just how turned on his was. “Didn’t mean to,” he said. Not for the first time, Adrian noticed that Caleb wasn’t really speaking in sentences anymore.

Adrian looked at the mess, and at Caleb’s penis tenting the yellow stained briefs. “You’re so helpless,” Adrian told him, and Caleb nodded and grunted, adding one more stain to them.

Adrian noticed that this idea didn’t turn him on; the idea of wetting the bed felt awful, gross, and humiliating, but not the least bit arousing. He wondered if Caleb had, once again, gotten a new phrase, and if that meant Adrian would soon change his mind.

Mrs. P came in soon after and saw the bed. “I see someone’s forgotten how hold his pee overnight.” She hurried both of them out of their underwear and ran them another bath. In the bath, Caleb looked miserable. “I’m sorry,” he said. It came out a little more like ‘sowwy’ - Caleb’s diction seemed to be fading, too.

“It’s okay,” Adrian told him. He knew that what was happening to them wasn’t his friend’a fault. “She made you.”

Caleb nodded glumly. “Forget so fast.” And it was true - it did feel like the pace at which both of them, but especially Caleb, was losing their abilities was, if anything, speeding up, and Adrian didn’t know where it was going to end.

But thinking about how helpless they were just got them both aroused again, and soon they were jerking off together in the bath, slipping back into the mindless cycle they were stuck in.

The rest of the day proceeded much as the one before, and the one before that. They played under Mrs. P’s supervision. She escorted them to the bathroom when they needed to go. She took them outside for a bit for a period of supervised running around.

Caleb seemed to be having some trouble with his balance. His walk got more awkward, as much of a waddle as a proper walk, and he often grabbed objects for stability. And Adrian found that he rarely wanted to say sentences longer than four words at a time, and that his tongue was beginning to trip over the harder letters.

That night, after their bath, Mrs. P got clean underwear for each of them. It looked normal enough, briefs with a plain white background and a zoo of animals playing on the front. But there was a distinctive crinkle as she pulled them on Caleb, and they were noticeably puffier than their usual underwear.

Caleb hopped in the bed and she turned to put a pair of the same onto Adrian. “I want regular undies!” Adrian shouted.

Mrs. P looked surprised. “You don’t want these? What if you helplessly wet the bed like Caleb?” Caleb scrunched his legs and squirmed at that, but Adrian still wasn’t the least bit turned on by the idea.

“Eww! No, I won’t.”

“Huh. You were so far ahead of schedule, I thought you’d be there by now.” She shrugged. “Well, you’re close. I don’t want to deal with another round of wet sheets, and nudging this along won’t hurt.”

Adrian had no idea what she meant, but didn’t like the sound of it. He ran over to the underwear bin and pulled out a pair. “I’ll wear these!” he suggested.

“Adrian, dear, what are you?” Adrian wrinkled his face, not wanting to say it. “Go on, what are you?”

“I’m a helpless little boy,” he admitted.

“Very good,” she said, looking pleased, "And what’s Caleb?”

“A helpless little boy,” Adrian repeated unhappily.

“Is he?” she asked. “He wets the bed. He can only say one or two words at a time. He can barely walk, and by tomorrow he’ll be crawling half the time. What is Caleb?”

Adrian gulped and looked over at his friend, who was looking away, too embarrassed to make eye contact. “He’s a baby.”

“Very good. And what kind of baby is Caleb?”

“He’s a helpless little baby,” Adrian replied.

“That’s right!” Mrs. P was beaming. “And why do you think Caleb has let himself become a helpless little baby?”

Adrian wiggled and twisted, wanting to avoid the obvious conclusion. “Because helpless little babies get to cum?” Something changed in him when he put the phrase together and said it out loud. A moment ago, calling Caleb a baby had seemed like a mean thing to say, an awful fate he wished he could protect his friend from. In an instant, he suddenly saw that it was erotic. Indeed, everything he’d done so far was suddenly less compelling, swept away by the thought of how turned on he’d be by acting like a baby.

“Very good!” Mrs. P said again. “And helpless little babies pee themselves at night, and they wear special underwear so they don’t wet the bed. Now doesn’t that sound nice?”

Adrian didn’t need to say anything. He was still naked, and his straining penis agreed on his behalf. Mrs. P came over and put the padded underwear on him, and if he didn’t cooperate, he didn’t exactly resist, either. Then she led him to the bed with Caleb.

“So tell me Adrian,” she said. “What are you?”

“I’m a helpless little baby,” he whispered. She leaned down and just tapped the tip of his penis through the underwear, and that was all the stimulation he needed for an orgasm. He writhed and grunted as it filled his body. Helpless little babies get to cum.

He heard Caleb cry, “Me too!” and then a moment later heard Caleb’s grunts mixing with his.

When they were done, they lay next to each other and she tucked them in. “Very, very good. Sleep well, my helpless little babies.”

In the morning, as always, Caleb rolled next to Adrian, put one hand on each of their crotches, and rubbed gently until they both orgasmed. That morning, the sensation was a little different as they came in the now damp padded briefs. Helpless little babies get to cum

Soon after Mrs. P came in, took off the damp briefs, wiped them both dry, and put them in their regular colorful underwear for the day. This day was much like the last few: a movie, some time outside, a lot of playing, pausing whenever the urge struck to enjoy another orgasm. Caleb was having even more trouble walking; he could still do it, but had started crawling instead sometimes when he wanted to move quickly.

Part way through lunch, Adrian realized he needed to pee. He noticed the urge, had plenty of warning to go ask Mrs. P to help him with it. But he thought about how a helpless little baby wouldn’t know to tell her, and would just let it go where he say - and, more importantly, what an amazingly good cum he’d get as a reward for that new humiliation. He considered resisting, trying to refuse that new degradation, but by now giving in felt inevitable. She’d have him peeing on the carpet in a couple days, no doubt. Why not just skip the waiting?

So he let it go, letting a yellow stain slip through his underwear, then down his leg and onto the rug. It didn’t take Mrs. P long to notice.

“Goodness, Adrian. I was certainly right that you were ready for a little nudge. Most boys hold on to their toilet training for days longer than that.” She knelt down. “I guess you really want to be a helpless little baby.” She lay a towel down on the floor. “Lie down over here,” she ordered him.

He proceeded to comply meekly with her instructions, lying down on the towel, letting her pull the soaked underwear off. She took a washcloth and cleaned off his crotch and legs; as she wiped the pee off his penis, he felt himself cumming into the towel. Mrs. P just kept the cloth wrapped around his penis to absorb the cum, then put the washcloth down and grabbed another to finish cleaning him. Then, at her instruction, he lifted his put and let her place a diaper under him and fasten it around him. He felt himself cumming again into the diaper as she fastened it. Helpless little babies get to cum.

Caleb held out a bit longer on being diapered, but that evening he had a near accident, abruptly stopping a game and rushing to Mrs. P on unstable legs, shouting that he needed to pee. She escorted him to the bathroom, holding his hand and keeping the other on his shoulder to help him walk steadily, but she escorted him back naked.

“Adrian, Caleb’s agreed that he’s ready for a diaper as well, which means the two of you are ready to move on to the white room. I’m so glad I decided to prep it early just in case.” She took Adrian’s hand with her left hand, still holding onto Caleb’s with her right, and they left the room to walk to the third room on the hallway, the one with a white diamond on the front. Caleb’s walk was even more unsteady, and he kept leaning his weight onto her for help.

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