Boston

Boston stood defiant, indigence in his eyes as he stared at the duplicitous duo. His demeanor remained iron-hard despite the soiled trousers fastened to his waist. Asim’s observation only further incensed the twink. Here was both his soulmate and mentor fucking whilst he was going through hell.

“Baba goo!” Bellowed Boston, his voice wet with rage. Unfortunately, the wrathful declaration inspired only laughter in the twosome.

“Blaga goo!” Instead of an angry exchange Boston’s word only resulted in more cackles. Initially, Asim’s taunt fell on deaf ears, but their continued amusement shook his resolve. Did they think their betrayal was funny? Was the scene of him in stained pants so funny that nothing else mattered. Thoughts aplenty bombarded Boston as he stood there his barrage against Asim and Maurice unending.

“Aww…is the baby cranky?” Maurice mocked his husband in a mean-spirited teased.

“Well, he is wet. Looks like he needs to be changed.” Replied Asim, as if Boston were an infant and not an adult man in wet pants.

“Gaga…goo?” It suddenly dawned on Boston that from his mouth spewed nothing more than nonsense. No wonder they were laughing at him. Regardless of what he did only babyish gibberish came out.

“Maybe I underestimated you. I thought you were a big boy, but apparently, I was wrong. Just look at your pants they are all soaked with pee. Maybe you are a baby after all.” Asim sounded more like a disappointed father than a colleague.

Legs weakened, as Boston suddenly found himself struggling to stand. Luckily for him Asim caught the thin man in his arms, before easing him onto the ground. With all his might Boston tried to erect himself not out of pride, but fear. All he could do was crawl, but he’d refuse to lower himself to moving like an infant. Instead, he’d settle for sitting on his butt and try again to stand.

“What do you have to say for yourself young man?” With the fact that Boston had to look up to see Asim combined with the man’s words, he felt like a small child. Every fiber of the man’s being demanded that he remain defiant, but for some reason he only felt intense shame. He knew he should be angry, but Asim seemed so much more like an adult than he did, and all Boston could do was sit in shameful silence.

“I sorry.” Boston said in a quiet voice. Overcome with a newfound guilt and sorrow all he could do was apologize. Feelings of rage subsided, giving rise to a deep sorrow that almost brought him to tears. He didn’t even realize his speech returned.

“You should be sorry. You smell like piss, and you are acting like a child.” Hissed Maurice, before his nude form joined Asim.

“Now, now you shouldn’t be so harsh with him. He’s just a toddler. After all, it takes time to grow into a big boy.” Despite defending Boston his tone was rife with condescension. That fact didn’t escape the man, but he was so demoralized it went without challenge.

“Now let’s get our little man changed.” Instinctively Boston extended his arms upward to meet Asim. Internally he knew what was happening was wrong, but he complied. Even when his mentor picked him up Asim met no resistance.

Secured to Asim’s waist, Boston didn’t know what to think. Here he was a man in his twenties wearing piss-stained pants being held like a baby.

“Maurice, where is the nursery?” Boston’s eyebrow elevated at Asim’s comment. They didn’t have any kids so why would there be a nursery? Confusion only grew when Maurice volunteered to show him where the room was. When Maurice announced they had all reached the mysterious room he was at a loss for words.

“What?” Boston squeaked out when he laid eyes on the room’s interior. Beyond the portal was what looked to be a room fit for a toddler. While more a room fit for a toddler than an infant, it held a large changing table adjacent to a large toybox. The walls and floor were wrapped in a space theme with stars and rocket ships racing across the room. A bed was at its center and while not a crib it had safety rails to ensure a small child’s safety. Some toys were set up in front of the bed waiting to be played with.

“Do you like it? I had it built for you. We just made it so that you wouldn’t notice.” Maurice’s words were not only cryptic, but purposefully antagonistic. He wanted his husband to squirm in the goliath’s arms. He knew how Boston thought and he could only imagine the thoughts running through his mind at that moment.

“This will be your new room. It’s a little early, but you seem ready for your new life.” Asim said with a chuckle in tow. Before he could mount a reply, the muscular frame of Asim sat Boston on the changing table. He didn’t even have time to process any of what happened before his pants were removed. Boston’s hands quickly shielded his genitals, but Asim gently slapped them away.

“Whatchu doin, Daddy?” Words tumbled out of Boston’s mouth that did not feel like his own. It felt like a toddler spoke in his stead, and lastly why did he call Asim “daddy?” It was becoming clear that something had been done to him, but he wasn’t sure what. Boston kicked himself for not realizing it sooner, but he blamed shock for his lapse in judgement.

“I am going to put your diaper on and get you some proper clothes. It’s clear to me that you are not a big boy.” Instead of rebelling Boston meekly submitted despite his desires to do otherwise. It was as if he was being controlled by Asim via some unknown means. Was Asim the reason behind his strange behavior? And why was his beloved helping him and being so cruel? These thoughts and others swam through Boston’s head as his clothing was being removed. He didn’t want to wear diapers, but there was nothing he could do.