Jake loved testing the waters, getting almost exposed, almost ruined, but then pulling back and escaping scott free. He'd lost count of how many dominants, both men and women, he'd talked with, given away just enough to get them on the hook, and then came the best part, the meet up.
As is best practice, he would meet up with them in public, and because he wasn't 100% truthful with his locations, he found it was easy to control the meetup point. Sometimes it was a restaurant, sometimes a park, sometimes even just a bar. Every time though, he made sure to map out the place, and even visit it ahead of time. He would set up his escape route, have items to get far away safely, and store his needed items that he "promised" he wouldn't have on him in between his Plaything and his Freedom.
Part of him did feel bad tricking these people for his amusement. But at the same time, the intensity of what was on the table was too much for him. See Jake was always set to enter into a 24/7 live in situation with forced feminization, full incontinence training, and often time other fetishes too numerous to count. His meet ups would often have him dressed in humiliating fashions of some kind, seemingly nothing but the clothes on his back and diapers taped around his waist on him.
The first face to face meeting would have them talking about what all Jake would be expected to do, to commit to, and what would be provided for him. Despite being often caged, the excitement of sitting down next to someone, while he was in thick often used diapers and an overly feminine attire, listening to someone earnestly talk about how they would augment his body, using him how they saw fit, excited him. He found it so pleasing to hear how they would ensure that when it came to the bathroom, he would be forced to release everything, yet when it came to satisfaction, he would have no say in getting it ever again without permission.
After sitting, talking, and falsely promising to commit, he then used his charm to find an excuse to leave. It was incredible how good he was at convincing people who moments ago were talking about how they would keep him chained up for the rest of his life, would let him freely go ask a question of the waitor, or give him one last chance to look at something. He then slipped through his escape route, collecting his tools, supplies, and items and be free before the person could fathom that something was wrong.
After all of this though, he had finally made a mistake. His years of careful control, of ghosting and vanishing and making up dozens upon dozens of new profiles. Of long trips, manipulated informations, careful shared images, all of it had apparently not prepared him for what Miss Heather had in store.
But he didn't have time to recall that but just yet. Because right now he was stuck. His phone, keys, wallet with both his credit cards and drivers licence, as well as clothes that weren't both feminine and so skimpy they didn't even attempt to hide his thick soggy diapers, were all behind a door. This door. And it wouldn't open. Without them he couldn't escape, not from his locked cage especially. Plus with it being so late, he couldn't even run deep into the woods, since there was risk of animals wanting to attack him, or a ranger threatening arrest and prosecution for trespassing.
He desperately jiggled the handle, though stopped when his massive fake breasts caused his body to shake with them which activated his cramping stomach. Yet another mistake.
The noises that penetrated the dark park were to most, all innocent and disconnected. But to Jake, they spoke to him. The tapping of the metal door handle told him there was no escape. The gurling stomach and light farts told him that he would soon be dropping a messy load into his diapers. And the slowly paced clicking of high heels on pavement told him that he had played his last game, had lost, and that his current state was his new reality.
A final point was made when all the other noises stopped, Miss Heather silently standing in front of him, his hands unable to touch the door handle, and the stomach gurlges were gone, because they have shifted to a single noise. The sound of swollen diapers expanding as a torrent of soft yet full sized waste forced crinkling noises telling Miss Heather that her new plaything was exactly where it belonged, under her control
Photo is mine, please credit me if you wish to use or repost it. No permission needed requested, just credit to this page.
I have a lot of captions I'll be working on and writing up. Month has been an up and down affair and I've got lots of photos of myself to hopefully appease y'all. Plus some great assistance coming to keep pushing me onwards as well as augmenting my captions quality to new heights.
Also shout-out to @padded-princess-ameila. She has been so wonderful and supportive, and this photo exists thanks to her encouragement. She's also to credit for the future captions being even better!
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