When someone sees you, he may think you started to wear diapers because you wet yourself. Now it may be true, but it’s not why you started. It’s not why Daddy decided to make this translation for you, whether you liked it or not.
Daddy had enough of catching you touching yourself.
When you were alone. When he was in the house and you were in another room. Even once when there were guests in the house and you forgot to lock the bathroom door. One gentleman only wanted to wash his hands after dinner and he had to watch you being naughty.
Daddy had enough.
That gentleman told Daddy that from his experience, the best thing naughty boys need is to “Lock them up”, as you heard him telling Daddy that evening after the incident.
A week after, Daddy called you to come sit next to him. He explained he was done with your behavior. He took down your shorts and tighty whities, and with a swift motion locked your flaccid penis.
“I knew small was the right size.” he chuckled and fisted your shoulder.
You were shocked and red from embarrassment.
The chastity device, or as Daddy liked to call it, “Cage”, became your new reality. You were so horny but couldn’t do anything about it. You missed touching yourself so much. The frustration grew stronger every day.
One morning you woke up to find out you had a wet dream. You panicked and threw away the underwear because you were afraid Daddy would find out. Since that morning, pre cum in your tighty whities was a regular thing. You couldn’t help it, it was just pouring out.
One evening the same gentleman who gave Daddy that horrible advice came to dinner again. When you sat in front of him, waves of shame and resentment were pulsing inside of you towards that man. You hated him for what he’d done to you.
All those awful emotions were stirring up something inside of you and in your pants. You were throbbing in your cage. You couldn’t look at the man because when you did, your cage was closing on you even more.
You asked to be excused from the table, which Daddy granted. When you were standing up, all of you were visible, including your gray sweatpants.
“Awwww did your boy have an accident?” the man smiled.
“What?” Daddy asked as he was coming back from the kitchen.
“We got a clear case of ‘Sticky Pants’” the man laughed and pointed.
“Come here!” Daddy raised his voice at you.
You walked towards him.
He took your wrist in his hand and lifted it so you won’t hide what happened. With his other hand, he swatted your rear, like you were just a bad boy.
All that, in front of that man.
“What am I gonna do with you? Huh?! What I’m going to do with him? I knew you were ruining your tighty whities for a while now, isn’t it right? Such a bad boy, and in front of our guest.” Daddy was mad.
“Well, There is a solution for keeping Sticky Pants dry.” the man said and winked at you.
“I’m listening…” Daddy said as he sat down in his chair, forcing you to sit on his lap when you were on the verge of crying.
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