Men Came and Went
I sat in my playpen, while so many men came and went. I couldnât remember how they looked, how they sounded, or even how many were there. I was partly fixed on that damn kidâs TV show with those bright lights and annoying singing.
Some didnât notice me as they walked and were led to the bedroom. Some of them did, made a face, and kept on going. But some noticed me, smiled, and came by and stood over me, sitting in my crib. Some already had a boner, some got hard when they saw me like that, but all got aroused even more.
My little dick was locked, not by me. Every evening when there was a date planned, I was diapered, dressed in a babyish Shortall, placed in a big playpen in the living room, and shushed with a huge pacifier. I was told to keep quiet while the adults, in my bedroom, were having fun. I had to stay in that playpen, for so long. Most of the time I had to wet myself, I even had to go number two once or twice.
I even think that I oozed pre-cum for hours, but the pee always washed it away to the padding.
Although the TVâs sound was high, I tried to listen, to the voices, to the moans, to the water running in the shower afterwards. I always sucked on my pacifier furiously when the moans were louder than usual. The baby was angry, but Iâm only just a baby, with a little dick.
Iâm not allowed to get out until the men leave. My status was enforced on me, in my own home, that Iâm a baby and not a man. Those men were an example, a shameful contrast, of what I am. Their semen stained my nice bedding, and mine stained my thick padding.
