Tinder Love and Care

3 hours. Three whole hours. That’s how long she’d been gone. My mind was spinning as I paced back and forth around the room. The sound of my diaper crinkling over Peppa Pig playing on the TV. I couldn’t change the channel. Stupid parental controls.

I kept checking my phone for any signs of life from her. The dated smartphone also had parental controls enabled to keep me from accessing any…unapproved…sites. I checked the messages between her and I:

How’s it going? Sent at 8:02pm

Everything alright? Sent at 9:05pm

Both messages said “Read” underneath. So she was getting my messages, she just wasn’t replying to them. But what if it isn’t her that was reading them? I thought. She could be dead in a ditch somewhere!

I always hated the idea of her going out with a random stranger, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Ever since she caught me cheating and locked my dick in chastity, she made me help her find guys to cheat on me with. And what better way to find a guy for her to fuck than to use the #1 hook-up app: Tinder.

So she took me out and had me buy her all of this expensive lingerie and these skimpy outfits. She had me help her with her makeup. Coordinating it with her outfits and asking me what would make her look the most ‘fuckable’. She even made me use my photoshop skills to spruce them up even more. I hated it. I hated every second of it. But I hated not cumming even more. So every time I helped her pick out a new outfit or upload a new profile pic, she would reward me with an unlocking. Allowing me to hump inside of my new, padded attire on the floor while she laughed at the profile I’d created for her.

Only, she couldn’t be bothered to do the work of sifting through all the simps and betas herself. Instead, she made me be the one to swipe left and right on guys. I had to scroll through countless numbers of profile pictures. Trying to decide if they would be a good enough caliber to fuck my wife. At first, I tried playing stupid. Swiping right on only the ones that I thought were fat, ugly, or probably had a penis smaller than mine (if it were possible). But she caught onto that quickly. Several nights spent bent over and taking the paddle against my backside while she reminded me what she wanted: over 6ft, strong jaw, fit and muscular physique, and a little on the hairier side.

But it wasn’t just the swiping she wanted me to do. What was worse was when she matched with a guy. You wouldn’t believe the amount of absolute filth out there. I mean, seriously, guys can be such douchebags. Who starts their messages off with “Hey gud lookin, I’d luv 2 tap dat ass” anyway?! Like, what is anyone supposed to say to that? But she made me reply. She made me use her persona to flirt with the guys. I spent almost every waking hour texting back and forth with a bunch of creeps. She had me show her the messages, coaching me on how to be a better flirt, and punishing me when I scared off the ‘attractive’ ones with my awkwardness or obvious disdain.

Finally, if things went well she had me ask them for dick pics. Most of them provided this within the first 5 minutes of messaging anyway. But the ones that held off, the ones that weren’t presumptuous and pushy, those were the ones she wanted. “They’re the ones with the biggest dicks” she’d tell me.

So she had me ask them, beg them even. Literally had me pleading for a chance to be graced with a picture of their throbbing member, and oh did they deliver. I honestly thought some of them were just catfishing. Stealing pics of male pornstars on the internet. But no, they’d include their own face, beard, and rock-hard abs to go along with their rock-hard cock.

Once I'd compiled a list of viable guys and their packages, she had me present them to her. “Come on…” she’d say, “You’re a salesman, so sell me on this one.”

I literally had to verbally express to her how “this cock would be a good fit for her, because it’s got a nice girth and a little curve to it, so it could hit her spot in a way that I never could.” She had me rate them, all of them, every single one of the dicks I’d lined up for her and give them a numerical value on how likely they were to give her an orgasm.

Then she’d unlock me again. Handing me a dildo and making me shove it in my mouth so I could “show her what she needs to when she meets them”. I had to rub the front of my Pampers as I pretended to be excited for her that she was “finally going to get the cocks she deserved.” I was crying by the time I finally spurted.  She would just laugh as she changed my sticky diaper and got me back inside my cage.

Now she was finally going out with one of them. Some guy named Pablo. I know, I sound like I don’t know anything about him, but really I do. I know almost everything. Everything from where he’s from, where he works, and how many veins he has pulsing out of his cock when it’s fully erect.

Rachel had just finished feeding me a bottle when the doorbell rang. She’d sent me to kneel against the wall so I couldn’t be seen.

“‘Ello” he said in his stupid Brazilian accent when she opened the door, “You are…most beautiful tonight!” My wife always had a thing for accents, I knew Pablo would be a perfect match for her, as much as I hated to admit it.

“Thank you!” she said, and I could tell from her cadence that she was smiling from ear to ear. I thought about jumping out from the corner–my ‘time out’ spot–I thought about saying something, standing up to her, or him. But I reckoned there was only so much intimidation a grown man in nothing but a diaper and t-shirt could muster. So I stayed quiet. I could hear the sound of something crinkling, but it wasn’t my diaper, it must have been flowers wrapped in that stupid plastic stuff.

“Oh my goodness” Rachel swooned, “Thank you!! They’re gorgeous!”

“Anything for a gorgeous woman like you!” Pablo replied.

It was corny, but I knew she ate it up.

The last thing I heard her say was “so where are we going?” before the front door closed. I scrambled to the window and watched them through the curtains. Pablo with his long, black curly hair in a matching suit, looking suave as ever as he opened the door to his very expensive car and helped her inside.

That was at 7pm.

It was 10:07 when my phone finally dinged. I would have ran over to it, if it wasn’t already clutched tightly between my wringing fingers.

Headed back to his place. Things are going well ;)

I read and reread it several times. As if I needed the pain in my gut to feel any more real. What did that mean?? “Things are going well?!” What do I even say to that? Should I beg? Try to convince her to reconsider? No…I'd already spent all day doing just that when she was here. No way my pathetic pleas would be of any use now that she was probably in his car, speeding down the highway, his stupid, long, gorgeous hair flapping in the wind next to her majestically.

I decided my only card to play was with the one thing I thought might get her attention.

But my diapy is wet…

It felt stupid to type out. It felt even more stupid to send. As soon as I did I regretted it immediately. I paced back and forth, cursing myself and the stupid diaper and my stupid situation. But then my phone buzzed…

Awwww! It is? Did the wittle baby go pee pee in his diapy?? Show me.

Aww great. Now look at what I got myself into. My diaper was wet. Soaked, actually. But I didn’t want to have to provide photographic evidence of my predicament. What if she showed her friends? What if she showed him? Still, it was getting her to interact with me, which meant she was doing less interacting with Pablo.

I pulled up the camera app and switched it to selfie mode. Trying to aim it in a way that painted me in a good light. If that was possible. My soaked diaper was clearly visible, even through the locking plastic panties. But I made sure to pull the plastic tight so that she could get a clear view of the blue line running down the middle indicating my wetness. I took a look at the picture, god I look pathetic. I tried taking another one. It was even worse. I sighed, deciding to send the first one.

Message sent. Message read.

My heart beat faster in the moments of limbo, waiting for a response. Thousands of different possibilities running through my head. Was she showing him? Were they laughing together? Was she laughing at all? Or was she just ashamed of what her husband had become.

But then there were the three little dots indicating she was typing.

Wow! You ARE wet!! Such a pathetic sissy! Pissing in your diapers like a wittle loser while I'm off with a REAL man! LOL!

I was used to her teasing me about my diaper, degrading and patronizing me was almost a daily ritual. But her being out with another guy while she was doing it made it all the worse.

Will you come back and change me?

I knew it was pathetic. I knew it didn’t have a chance. So I don’t know why I was  so shocked when I got her reply.

Not a chance! Just got to his place :) But you better stay in that same diaper until I get back!

I sent several desperate messages at that point, but they all went ignored. She didn’t even read them. Obviously she didn’t want to be staring at her phone while she was out with another dreamy man. I frantically paced back and forth some more.

A full hour went by. I was beginning to worry. What if he kidnapped her? Drugged her? Has her in his red room or underground sex prison?? What if I hooked her up with a serial killer?  He could be chopping her into pieces as we speak.

Just when I was about to dial 911, my phone buzzed.

I’m going to fuck him. But I want your blessing :P

I audibly scoffed. The audacity.

Are you kidding me?? Why would I ever agree to that?

If you do, I’ll tell you where the key to the Hitachi is.

Oh. Well that could do it.

The Hitachi wand was the vibrator Rachel would often use to tease and torture me. It used to be strictly for her–she needed one with how much of a disappointment I often was in bed. But once the diapers started, she’d press it to the front of my crotch until I was writhing and whining in frustration. On the off chance she’d let me cum, that was her main method for doing so. That way she could do it without having to be bothered by using her hands, mouth, or pussy (like that would ever happen anymore), plus there was the added benefit that it could be done no matter what state my diaper was in.

One time, however, she came home early and caught me using it on myself. Even in chastity, I’d found a way to masturbate and get some relief using the Hitachi. She didn’t want to just throw it away, not with how much she delighted in tormenting me. So instead she got another little padlock, and looped it through one of the prongs of the electrical cord attached to it. Making it impossible for me to plug it into an outlet.

What if I say ‘no’? I sent. Will you not have sex with him?

She texted back almost instantly.

HA! Oh I'm still gonna do it whether you like it or not. But you’ll only get your key if you pretend like you do ;)

God damn it. Why did she have to revel in my misery so much? A tiny part of my brain reminded me it was because I cheated and am now reaping what I sow, but I shoved that thought to the side.

So…what’s it gonna be? Do you want him to fuck me? Do you want me to rock his world?

I knew she could, too. She had always been a dynamite in bed. Something I took for granted when I went on business trips. Every trip I made it a mission to seek out a local girl on Tinder. It kept things new, and I wanted the confidence boost. Eventually I would end up settling for a 4, meet up, and flop around inside her with a half-mast erection that ended in less than a minute. I kept videos of all the girls I had sex with on my phone. One day, Rachel found them, along with my Tinder account. She seemed to take it quite well at first. Having me agree to chastity while on trips to ‘make sure I didn’t get any ideas’. Except for this one time, on a trip to Baton Rouge, when a girl approached me and started flirting. She eventually convinced me to go back to her room, and when I did, Rachel was there waiting. I’d betrayed her trust again, and now I was paying for it. Now I had to decide if I wanted her to do the same thing. To fuck someone else while I sit at home. I sighed, realizing for probably the first time that this is what I deserve.

Yes. I sent. You should fuck him.

I could practically hear her laughing out loud from across town.

Say please :)

I sighed. Please… I typed out, but I knew she was gonna want more. Please have sex with another man…

Then I waited. I was worried she wasn’t going to hold up her end of the bargain, and I was gonna be left to wallow in my shame and guilt. Then my phone finally buzzed.

If you say so ;) Key’s In the bookshelf, Memoirs of a Geisha, pg. 69

I hustled over to the study. Rachel’s book collection was so elaborate it might have taken me hours to find the right book–if they weren’t alphabetized. Except they were alphabetized by the author, and I didn’t know the author. A quick Google search led me to Arthur Golden. I found the tiny key tucked between the pages. Whimpering excitedly as I rushed to our bedroom.

Under the bedsprings was our bin of sex toys. A vast array of dildoes – all making my pathetic penis pale in comparison – littered the top. She liked to use them on herself and make me watch helplessly as my cock squeezed inside its cage and my balls turned blue with jealousy. Underneath all the buttplugs she’d made me wear under my diaper to almost any public place she could think of, I found it. The Hitachi. I scooped it up and used the key to remove the tiny padlock from the prongs, crawling over to the nearest outlet and shoving it in the holes. The vibrating wand fired up immediately.

I sat down and sighed. Relaxing. Willing all the thoughts of Rachel and Pablo out of my mind. But just as I smiled and went to press the wand to the front of my diaper, I felt a gurgling in my stomach.

Fuck.

Rachel must have laced that bottle with laxatives before she left. No wonder she was so intent on making me drink it all before he got here. Usually she would just hand me a bottle to feed myself while I pretended to watch cartoons. But this time she actually sat down, put me over her lap, and stroked my hair while I guzzled down every last drop. It was oddly intimate, in a fucked up sort of way, and I honestly thought at the time she was going to change her mind about going out with Pablo.

But she didn’t. She sprang up as soon as that bell rang. And now, several hours later, when I’d finally sat, stopped being so frantic, and relaxed, it all kicked in.

I tried to distract myself with the wand. Pressing it against my soggy plastic crotch again. But the cramps in my bowels were so intense I was spasming. Despite how long it had been since I'd cum, despite how horny I was, I just couldn’t pleasure myself while I had this pain in my abdomen, and there was only one way to get it to go away.

I lifted myself off the floor, and readjusted my legs so I was in the squatting position. If Rachel was here she would be cracking up. She always loved to tease me when I had to go #2. How I was always trying to run off and hide so I could do it in the corner. But no, even though she wasn’t the biggest fan of changing my dirty diapers, she loved watching me make a dirty diaper. Something about the look on my face as I “made a pushy”.

At least she wasn’t here now, at least I could relax and let it go without the sound of her cackling in the background. It didn’t take much pushing this time, all I had to do was give a slight nudge and my diaper immediately started filling with warm sludge. I felt the weight of it pull at the waistband of my diaper as the bottom began to sag. I let out little pathetic grunts as I emptied myself all over myself, with a little bit more piss to boot. When I finally finished with my business, I sat back down and sighed from the effort.

Big mistake.

The mush immediately filled whatever empty space was left in the diaper, spreading evenly from my back all the way to my front. I cringed and tried not to gag from the smell and the disgusting feel. I couldn’t change my own diaper. The stupid plastic panties around my waist had a locking mechanism on them that kept them tight and snug. Just another tiny padlock used to control my life…

I was not turned on at all, but this was probably one of the few chances I had to achieve an orgasm. Who knows how long she would make me wait for another opportunity?

So I fired up the Hitachi again. Pressing it against my front so that it rattled against my cage. I could feel all the slush making waves inside my diaper, but I tried to block it out. Trying to focus on the pleasure in my cage. It wasn’t much, mind you. The padding of the diaper absorbed a lot of the vibrations, and the cage blocked a lot of sensation. It’s also not fun stimulating yourself so that your penis tries to get erect but is utterly incapable of doing so. But I still managed to get some feeling down there, enough to make my mind make the switch from discomfort to a mild feeling of pleasure.

Just as I was starting to scratch the itch that had been building for weeks, my phone buzzed. It was Rachel, but this time instead of a text, it was a video.

******

I stared at it for a while, the preview showed nothing but black, giving no indication as to what the video contained. But I had my ideas. Maybe it was just a video of her and Pablo teasing me, telling me how pathetic I am. She probably already told him about me and my diapers. Or maybe it wasn’t bad at all, maybe it was just a funny Tik Tok she saw. But even my irrational brain didn’t believe that. What if it was something worse? What if it was something much worse? Did Pablo mutilate her body? Steal her phone? Take some sadistic video and try to send it to me? Or maybe it was what I thought it was. What, deep down, I knew it was. I had to know. Going through the possibilities was driving me crazy.

I hit the little play button. At first I thought it lagged, because the video stayed black. I turned the volume up as loud as it would go, which lead to a sort of rhythmic smacking coming from the speakers. There was a rumbling as the video shuffled, like the phone was being picked up. It focused to a shot of big, hairy balls. Balls I faintly recognized. As the video zoomed out I saw what the balls were attached to. Whose dick they were attached to. The dick I saw in several pictures when we were going back and forth on Tinder. It was Pablo’s dick, and my wife’s lips were wrapped around it.

I dropped the phone and my stomach dropped in unison. The video kept going though. I could hear Rachel groaning, practically moaning with Pablo’s dick in her mouth. As if she’d been deprived of meat for so long and was finally getting her fill. I frantically fumbled for the button to pause the video. It took me several seconds to properly align my quivering thumb to the appropriate section. I had to see Rachel make Pablo’s dick disappear several times down her throat before I finally got the video to stop.

I sat back and sighed, trying to make sense of my feelings. Obviously I was upset and embarrassed about my current situation. My wife was out sucking another man’s dick while I was sitting in a soiled pair of Pampers. But I couldn’t deny the twinging going on inside my cage. Was I getting turned on by this?? No, it was just that I was horny. If it hadn’t been weeks since I’d had an orgasm. If this were a normal case,  I’d be revolted at this whole situation.

But I wasn’t, and that’s what bothered me most.

I cursed myself as I picked the phone back up. Feeling like some sort of addict. Like someone who couldn’t control themselves. I was so desperate to cum that I would literally do anything. Even if that meant watching my wife please another man.

I pressed play again. It was an underneath view of Rachel on her knees, and Pablo’s big Brazilian cock pulsing above the camera. Like she set it down on the floor so she could concentrate both of her hands on his throbbing cock. One was making a ring around the base, cupping and fondling the balls while the other was stroking in time to her head bobbing back and forth on it. Where did she learn to suck dick like that?

“MmmmMMM!!” Rachel moaned with every slurp. She was drooling so much onto the cock that it rained down on the lens of the camera.

God I wish I could be him…I thought as I clicked on the wand. Feeling it vibrate against my padding. I yearned to be the one in her mouth. Her warm, wet lips wrapped around my dick as she sucked and slurped me. Even when she was giving me blowjobs, she never had that much enthusiasm. Probably due to me being about a third of the size of Pablo.

I tried to block that all out and concentrate on the video and the feeling in my cage. It was definitely harder to cum this way. Reduced sensations and the inability to get hard made it less comfortable. But I was still happy to have some sort of stimulation. I aimed the wand down more towards my balls and pressed harder as Rachel took Pablo’s balls in her mouth. Continuing to stroke his cock while she licked his testicles. Even through the graininess of the video I could see the gleam of her wedding ring on the hand she was stroking with. She licked back up his shaft and started making the gluck gluck gluck sound once he was back down her throat.

I was close. Very close. Right on the precipice of an orgasm but I just couldn’t get over the hump. I literally started humping against the vibrator to try to push me over. But right as I was about to achieve release–the video cut out.

I dropped the wand, and my progress. Checking the phone again. It was the end of the video.

I thought about playing it again. Rewatching her escapades. I even thought about texting her for more. But that was pathetic. So I sat there and tried to distract myself with the wand.

Bzzzzt

Another video. This time it was just her face. Her makeup was a little smeared, probably from the blowjob. But otherwise she looked beautiful. Then I saw a shadow move behind her. I realized she was on all fours on the bed, naked, and Pablo was stroking his dick and inserting it into my wife. I could see her eyes roll to the back of her head as he must have pressed inward. Then her jaw dropped. She almost dropped the phone from being in such ecstasy. Then he started pounding, and that’s when her faces really started.

At first, her expression was shocked, like she didn’t think anything could be that big and go that deep and feel that good. Then she tried biting her lip. Then, as his rhythm increased, it was like she was straining. Straining to contain herself, straining to keep herself from moaning, from screaming in pleasure. Then she held nothing back.

“Ohhhhh my GODDDD!!!” she shuttered.

I clicked it off. I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t see how much she was enjoying it. It hurt too much. But I was still so fucking horny. If I got rid of my incessant need to cum then maybe I’d be able to stop thinking of Rachel cumming on that guy’s dick.

I put the wand on the ground, then climbed on top of it, face down. I made sure the Hitachi was just below where my cage was. I started humping against it as it pulsed. I guess it made me feel like more of a man if I was doing a humping motion as opposed to curling  up and pressing a vibrator against myself like a girl would do. I was sweating from being so strained and deprived, but I was determined to get this load out.

As I was humping, I started wishing it was Rachel I was pounding instead of my Pampers. Did she ever make those faces with me? I couldn’t be sure…

I wanted to see them again. I wanted to see her while I humped. While I pretended I was a real man.

I clicked the video back on.

“Ohh yeaa…ohH! YEAA! YESS! YESS!! Ahhh!!”

I closed my eyes. Trying to block out the sounds of their naked, sweaty bodies clapping against each other.

“I’m gonna cum!!”

“I’m gonna cum!!”

It was my voice in conjunction with Rachel’s. As I spurted into my diaper I opened my eyes to see her face turning red and straining as she rocked into orgasm. I could see her whole body quaking. She collapsed and continued to twitch. Breathing heavily. “Save the condom” she said, and before the video clicked off she said  “I need to pour it into a bottle for–”

It was done. I had cum. I could feel my pathetic puddle in the cage and leaking into the Pampers. What I thought would be relief was replaced by pure shame. What did I just do?? I just told my wife she could fuck another man and I watched it happen. I’m so fucking pathetic that I actually came to watching my wife with another man. I came in my diapers. Diapers I had already pissed and shit in. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I laid on the floor for several minutes, sobbing at what my life had become. All of my horny feelings were replaced by shame and humiliation. I sat up and wiped my tears, feeling the mush of the three messes press against me.

A part of me wished I didn’t cum. If I had just controlled myself then I wouldn’t be in this headspace. I sent Rachel several texts, asking when she’d be home, but there was no response. She knew what she was doing. She was leaving me to my own devices. She knew I would watch the videos. She knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. She knew I would use the Hitachi and bring myself to orgasm and be left with this post-nut shame.

I waddled down the stairs, diaper drooping heavily below me and swaying side to side. Peppa Pig was still playing on TV. I laid down on the little mat and turned the volume up. Grabbing my little toddler container of goldfish to snack on while I watched the British pig family. I took a swig from my sippy cup and wiped my mouth. This wasn’t any better. This made me feel even more pathetic.

I sighed as I clicked the phone back open. I scrolled through all my messages to Rachel that were left unread, then continued to scroll up to find the videos again, and then I hit play…

THE END