Good morning Dear Reader.
I don’t want to be awake. I want to stay curled in my bed with my cat under the blankets against my naked belly, and the drone of the fan creating a chilly monotone for my bundled up slumber. I don’t want to hear this stupid alarm screaming at me for sleeping. I want to slowly wake as the sun rises over my windowsill and creeps through the curtains to brush my face. I do NOT want to work. I want to rub the sleep from my eyes, yawn real big, and then nuzzle back down into my stuffies.
The Bunny Brothers; Reginald, Eustace, and Sir Hoppington III. My fuzzy little long eared protectors. My boys! My hump buddies! Sir Hoppington III is the oldest. Reginald is bright blue. Nobody likes Eustace. He’s weird. Reginald usually travels with me because I like his pretty bright blue. Sir Hoppington III is most often used as my pillow. He loves being squished between my pillow and head, crushed in the crook of my arm. He is especially happy when I drool all over his belly because my thumb falls out of my mouth.
Reader, I suspect I am a brat. I suspect this because it takes everything in me to pull my cozy ass out of bed, and I still can’t do it without throwing a mini tantrum! Cinnamon bolts from her spot by my tummy as soon as I start trashing. My body writhes in a half-stretch as I try to build momentum to bring my feet out of the pocket of warm air I’ve created under my blankets. I give up. I curl back into a ball under the covers, head and all. It is warm here. It is safe here. It smells like me here. I smile as I recognize the smell of sleep sweat mixed with my arousal. I’d gone to sleep remembering my escapades- you know, the one I told you about before? (The peeing myself on purpose?) Yeah! That one! We all remember. I regularly masturbate before I sleep, it helps me relax, so I did just that. Only- this time was odd. I was fantasizing about my partners (I have three currently), but in a new way. This time they were making me stay so so so so hydrated and then strapping me into a diaper and forcing me to orgasm until I couldn’t hold it anymore and made a big, sopping spill again. Gods, just typing it now makes me squirmy and embarrassed and aroused. I still don’t have more diapers yet, so no leaking this morning. I reach down to feel myself and my fingers come away slick. I can feel how my dreams prepared me for an easy one-off this morning. I long for my partners mouth on my tcock. To rub it out or not to rub it out, that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the frustration and teasing of unsatisfied arousal, or to spread fingers against a sea of passion and by massaging please them. Do I give into my carnal desires and risk being late to work? Do I get up and get ready and get out on time? Do I call in and spend the whole day in horny rapture, humping every surface I can find? Do I quit my job and sell myself into sex-slavery to become someone’s perfect little boy-doll?
I’m sorry to disappoint you, reader. I got up. My boss is on my ass about being on time, so adult me won today. However, my boss can’t stop me from writing my depraved thoughts to you. She can’t keep me from telling you the things I’ve done to myself, others have done to me, or I fantasize about doing. I offer myself to you as much as I can, my reader. I’ll steal their time like they steal mine. I’ll use their time to whisper to you. I’ll use their time for as much of my own pleasure as I can. I come early and I stay late and I do my job well and damnit all if I can’t tease your brains while I do it. I want to make you salivate with what I describe to you. I want to tickle your sense with my stories, so much so you crave more when you aren’t reading my words.
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It’s well into my afternoon now and I only have an hour or two left before I get to go home. My overtime tonight is easy enough that I can spend nearly the entire hour and a half writing to you. I have only a moment right now before I’m pulled into another meeting that should have been an email. I wonder what you did when you read my first entry. I wonder what you thought about my sharing that with you. Maybe you were embarrassed on my behalf and felt your own odd arousal. Maybe you followed that arousal down your body, over the dips and curves of your skin to caress your favorite erogenous zone. Like me, you found yourself wet and engorged and dripping. Did you bring yourself to orgasm as I did? I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed telling you. I want you to let these little letters float in your mind and fill your imagination. Live vicariously through me as I take you on this journey of sexual discovery.
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I’ve returned much later than I anticipated. Not for anything negative, my work carried me well through my overtime and I feel good about what I’ve accomplished today! I should reward myself for a job well done. My brain is fried and my body is sore and I deserve to rest. When I get home, the first thing I’ll do is strip off my professional clothes and climb into something cute! I’m thinking boxer briefs and a fuzzy sweater- the one with the fox on it. It will be such a relief to peel my binder off after so many hours of wear. Once I’m dressed, I’ll set the oven for dinner, roll a J, pour a glass, and draw a bath to soak in until my timer goes off. I’ll fill the hot water with bubbly soap suds, eucalyptus epsom salts, rose petals, and a color changing bath bomb. I'll light candles and put on music; edm swing to get me into a good mood for my evening. It will be a silly affair to smoke my joint through a rejuvenating face mask. When I’m finished, I’ll have a delicious dinner of mashed potatoes and chicken stuffed with broccoli. While I eat, I’ll work on my most recent art piece and listen to my audio book. Cinnamon will beg relentlessly. She will pick a spot close by, sit there, and stare into my soul. She is very good at it. I will give in. She will enjoy her chicken and broccoli. After I’ve satisfied my hunger and my creative drive, I’ll call or message each of my partners in turn, being sure to say I love them and miss them and wish them a lovely night. When it’s bedtime, I’ll strip again, crawl into bed and masturbate myself into a stupor. It will be the same evening that has played out many times in the last year. Every Tuesday, after I finish overtime, this is my self-care routine. Only the menu, the color of the bath bomb, the activities after the bath, and the porn I masturbate to will change. The rest remains constant.
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I might have overfilled the tub and spilled water on the floor.
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The face mask lotion tastes funky on the J. I rub a bit off with each puff. Oops.
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The water is HOT and my soda is cooooooold.
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Oh shi- I ashed on the toilet seat.
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I keep getting distracted touching myself and thinking about that stupid baby diaper and getting lost in orgasm. I’ve had to relight three times now!
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Four times.
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Gods I’m elevated. My head feels fuzzy. The bubbles tickle my skin when they pop.
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Five times.
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Peeing in that diaper. Does it fill your mind like it fills mine, reader?
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It’s too short to relight, but this would have been six times. Why am I so enthralled?