Diaper Slave Series: Clara

Diaper_Slave_Series_Clara

Sample of

Diaper Slave Series: Clara

Available Here.

Chapter 1 – Assaulted

My name is Clara and my husband is Alex. Alex and I had been engaged for about six months when we got married. We dated for about three years before that, and other than the random arguments all couples deal with, things were great. Alex worked for the branch of his father’s company that was established in the U.S., but his father still lived in Russia. He had been trying for years to convince his father to let him move back home, but his father insisted that he needed him in the U.S. Even though I wanted to support my husband, I didn’t want to move to Russia.

One day, I made his favorite dinner, but he called and said he had to work late. Being the dutiful, loving wife I was, I decided to bring it to him at work. As I was driving past the strip club down the street from his warehouse, I saw his car parked in the parking lot. Call me naive, but I actually thought someone had stolen his car. I pulled into the parking lot with plans on calling Alex and/or the police, but instead I saw Alex sitting in the driver seat. After I parked, I walked over to his car and when I looked inside I saw a woman in lingerie(clearly a stripper) giving him a blowjob.

Needless to say, I freaked out and started kicking his car. I didn’t get the reaction I expected from Alex. He simply rolled down the window a little, then told me to go home and he would see me later. The stripper just continued to suck his dick as if nothing was happening. Freaked out, I jumped back in my car and drove directly to my sister’s house. I told her what had happened and she agreed to let me stay with her until I figured out other arrangements.

Later that night, Alex started calling my cell phone, but I refused to answer. He left a voicemail though, which really pissed me off. He didn’t seem to have any remorse about his betrayal and only seemed to care about the fact that I wasn’t at home waiting for him. The nerve of some people.
After a few days, I had finally calmed down enough to have a conversation with him. We met at the house and I explained how betrayed I felt. He just laughed at me. He told me that in his country, that is just how things were done. Strippers and hookers were just for relief and as long as he paid them for the sex, it wasn’t a betrayal. I strongly disagreed and the conversation quickly devolved into a loud argument.

At one point, he made the comment that wives are just whores with benefits. Losing my temper, I reached out to slap him, but he caught my wrist before I made contact. His response was immediate, as he grabbed me by the arm, his grip like a vise, and dragged me across the room. He put his left foot on the couch and then lifted me over his leg. My legs were dangling over one side and my torso over the other. He twisted both of my arms behind my back, cross them and held them there with his left hand. I had no way to balance myself and relied on Alex to keep me from falling.

With his right hand, Alex unbuckled and pulled the belt from his trousers. A moment later, he pulled up my dress and I felt the sting of the belt bite into my ass. Over and over he whipped my ass and thighs with the belt. I struggled at first, screaming and yelling at him to stop, but he was too strong. By the time he finished I was bawling my eyes out and my ass felt like it was on fire. I was in too much shock to count the strokes, but it must’ve been at least a hundred. Finished with his abuse of my ass and legs, he tossed me onto the couch and walked out.

Pulling myself from the couch, I grabbed my cell phone from my purse and called the police. Officers arrived within minutes. I told them exactly what happened and they asked if I would be willing to press charges. Betrayed and beaten, I didn’t give it a second thought when I said I would. An ambulance arrived shortly after the police and medics had to inspect the damage Alex had done to my ass and thighs. They were covered in raised welts and bruises.

A female officer escorted me into the bedroom, because they had to take photos of the marks for evidence. She took several photos with my skirt up and then asked me to remove my panties, so she could document the extent of the damage. It was humiliating, but if it sent that asshole to prison I was game.

The medics said I didn’t need to go to the hospital, but suggested some cold creme to reduce the swelling and help it heal. After finishing their reports, they said an arrest warrant would be issued for Alex and that I shouldn’t stay at home until he was caught. I told them I would stay at my sister’s house, as her husband was on leave from the military.

Chapter Two – The Trial

Alex didn’t think what he had done was wrong and went to work the next day as if nothing had happened. The police were there waiting for him and he was arrested for aggravated assault.

The prosecuting attorney called me that afternoon to verify that I was willing to testify at trial, which I agreed to. She then told me they were going to charge him with felony assault, battery, spousal abuse and leaving the scene of a crime. She expected he would probably plea down to a lesser charge and spend a year or two in prison.

I attended his arraignment the following day and the judge set his bail at $50,000. Since I was the only one that would be able to bail him out, I knew he would be stuck in jail until the trial. It made me feel better and gave me the freedom to go home without worrying about him hurting me. No plea deal was made and his trial started about two months later.

The trial was more horrendous for me than it was for him. The prosecutor was looking for sympathy from the jury, so she took the photos taken of my ass after the incident and inflated them to ridiculous sizes to use as evidence. Alex laughed out loud when he saw them. I cringed in my seat every time she pointed out the bruises and welts on the photos of my naked ass.

When it was my turn to testify, I had to give a detailed account of not only the incident, but of the affair I had caught him in. It was an embarrassing tale to tell, but I managed to get through most of it. As I was describing how he beat me with his belt, Alex said very loudly that I deserved it and laughed. The most humiliating part was when several men in the crowd laughed with him. I broke down crying on the stand and the judge ordered a recess to allow me to gather my nerves.

The defense attorney, on the other hand, tried to claim that Alex had only beaten me because I attempted to assault him and he feared for his own safety. It was a ridiculous defense, but he certainly tried. He also tried to cite case law from the early 20th century that allowed a husband to discipline his own wife. Right up to the end of the trial, he insisted that Alex was within his rights to ‘discipline’ me for my own attempted assault.

After only two hours of deliberation, the jury came back with a verdict of guilty on all charges. Not seeking a plea bargain was going to bite him in the ass. When the female jury foreman read the verdict, he stood up and yelled that she needed a good ass beating too. Guards had to hold him down in his seat while the judge scheduled sentencing for the following week.

At his sentencing, the judge gave a long speech about spousal abuse and how he wanted to give him twenty years in prison for his crime. However, the law was clear and the maximum sentence was three years in prison. Alex jumped up and tried to run out of the courtroom, but security tackled him and dragged him away.

Chapter Three – Father-in-Law

A few days after his sentencing, Alex’s father – Oleg – showed up at my door. His accent was thick, but he spoke perfect English and seemed very respectable. He apologized profusely for his son’s behavior, insisting he wasn’t raised that way. It was one of many reasons why he was sent to manage his business in the U.S.

We talked for a while and he told me that he would be signing the house over to me, since it was technically owned by the company. It was a weight off my shoulders, as I had contemplated where I would live when they took the house back. He said he would have the papers drawn up and he would give me a call when they were ready.

I spent the next few days finally packing up Alex’s personal belongings and putting them in the garage. He had a lot of photos from his home in Russia and looking at his face just made me angry all over again. In my anger, I pulled every photo of him out of the albums and sliced through his face with a razor.

Two days later, Oleg called and said his lawyer had finished with the papers and wanted me to come down to the warehouse to sign them at 3pm that afternoon. I agreed, eager to see this all finished. As much as I liked this house, I intended to sell it and buy a smaller house somewhere Alex didn’t know about.

At 3pm, I arrived at the warehouse and made my way to the office. Oleg was sitting behind the desk as I walked in and he gestured for me to sit down. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then looked up at me as if considering his words.

“What on god’s green earth made you think you could get away with sending my son to prison?!” His worded got louder as he spoke. He stood up and loomed over the desk.

I was suddenly very frightened and didn’t speak. Instead, I just stood up and turned toward the door only to find two very large men in business suits blocking my path.

“Sit down!” Oleg shouted.

I sat down again and swallowed hard. Was I going to die? I felt like I was in a scene from a mob movie and I was terrified. Oleg just paced back and forth behind the desk for several minutes. He began to speak several times, only to cut himself off. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down. When he did speak, his words were calm and calculated.

“My son is going to be in prison for three years, because of you.” He paused for a moment. “I considered slitting your throat and throwing you in the ocean. However, my son still believes you can be a good wife. I’m not so sure.” He paused again as he stared straight into my eyes. “Can you be a good wife?”

If I said no, I would surely die that day and I knew it. “Y… Y… Yes.” I stammered out the words.

“Are you ready to learn to be a good wife?”

I just nodded, unable to form words through the lump in my throat. I just had to get out of there intact, then I could let the police deal with these maniacs.

“Good.” He turned to the guys at the door. “Take her to Vera.”

Both of them men grabbed an arm on either side of me and half carried me through the warehouse to a shipping container. Inside the shipping container was a very attractive, but mean looking woman that I assumed was Vera. The men let go of my arms and stood guard at the door.

“Strip.” Vera commanded.

“W…What?” I didn’t know what was happening, but I didn’t like the sound of it already.

“Strip. Now. Or your new friends there will do it for you.” She said pointing at the guards.

Slowly, I removed my clothes and she just watched me, patiently, until I was naked. Conscious of my nudity, I turned to see that both guards were going out of their way to not look in my direction. Vera picked up my clothes and placed them into a black garbage bag, then tossed it out the door.
“Lie down.” She ordered, pointing at a plastic matt on the floor. I did as instructed, but began shaking in fear at what was coming next.

She opened a black duffle bag and pulled out a pile of disposable adult diapers. Unfolding four of them, she placed them in a pile and began poking holes through the plastic backing of three of them.

“Lift your butt.” She demanded and I knew better than to refuse.

With my butt several inches off the matt, she placed the pile of diapers under me and then pushed down on my leg, signaling me to put my butt back down. A bottle of baby powder was pulled out of her bag and she began to shake it heavily throughout my crotch and ass.

“You’re going to be grateful for that soon.” She said as she pulled the first of four diapers up between my legs and fastened the tapes – two on each side. As each diaper was taped up, I felt the increasing thickness between my legs.

I was still shaking in fear as I wondered what this was all about. Was this supposed to be some lesson in humility? Were they going to dress me up like this and drop me off downtown? Not knowing just made it worse.

“Stand up.” Came the next order and I had to roll onto my side to stand up, thanks to the bulk around my pelvis.

The next item she pulled from her bag was a thick canvas straitjacket. As soon as I saw it, I freaked out and started to cry. She held it up, expecting me to place my arms into the sleeves, but I was gripped by fear. I cross my arms as tight as I could and begged her to let me go. In my mind, a straitjacket meant they were going to chain a brick to my ankle and throw me in the ocean.

“Boys, a little help?” Vera called for the guards.

The two large men had no problem unfolding my arms and holding them while Vera pulled the straitjacket over them. They shifted position several times, preventing me from putting up a good fight, as Vera buckled all the straps tight. My arms were pulled across each other, through a loop on the front of the straitjacket, then pulled snug behind me and buckled. My arms were not useless. I was still crying and begging them to let me go as Vera pulled a wide leather strap between my legs and fastened it as well.

Vera went back into the bag and pulled out a small box. She opened the box in front of me to reveal a syringe filled with yellow liquid. The fight in me was renewed and I pulled against the two men as hard as I could, jerking back and forth trying to escape. It was no use.

“Don’t worry dear. It’s just a little something to keep you quiet. Now hold very still or this could go very wrong.”

She moved the needle to my neck and I knew fighting would just lead to injury, so I stood still and closed my eyes. A moment later, I felt the needle poke the front of my neck and felt an tingling sensation as she injected the liquid into me.

“What was that?” I tried to ask, but it came out sounding hoarse. “What… what…” I repeated a few times, realizing she had done something to my vocal chords and I could no longer talk above a whisper. I tried to scream and it only came out as a slight moan.

Vera picked up a lantern and walked to the back of the shipping container. One of the guards pushed me along to follow her. In the very back was a large wooden shipping box that was opened from the side. Inside, I saw two large IV bags filled with red liquid hanging on the side, small holes drilled throughout the box, a faintly glowing LED light in the corner and a large number of pillows on the floor.

“This will be your home for the next few days while you travel to your new home in Russia.” Said Vera.

I was really freaking out now. I was being kidnapped and shipped to Russia! Were they going to kill me there? The tears started flowing again, as I knew there was no escape unless the police chose that exact moment to bust through the doors.

“Clearly there are no toilets, hence the diapers. The straitjacket will keep you from trying to break out. And the paralytic in your throat will prevent you from calling for help. This container is air conditioned, so you won’t get too hot or too cold. The IV bags are filled with a high nutrient electrolyte solution and there is a nipple on the wall below them if you need to drink.” Vera explained it all in a very efficient manner.

Vera motioned to the brute holding me and he picked me up and placed me inside the box, on top of the soft pillows. He dug through the pillows for a moment and pulled out two leather restraints that he attached to my ankles. They were attached to floor via steel chains, preventing me from moving my feet more than two feet from the middle of the box.

Just then, Oleg walked into the container and stood next to Vera. “You said you would learn to be a good wife. You will have three years in Russia to learn to be exactly that.”

The two guards pulled the side of the box into place. It was still fairly dark, even with the light. Most likely just enough light to allow me to see the nipple on the wall when I was thirsty. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the sounds of drills screwing the box closed…

Sample of

Diaper Slave Series: Clara

Available Here.

2 comments on “Diaper Slave Series: Clara

  1. Loved this book. Hope you write more just like it. I read a couple of your other books as well, but this one was my favorite.

  2. im a trangender Mtf in a wheelchair snd I like this to happen to me I wanna be diaper slave and everything happen to me such as babygirl clothes furniture and babygirls item such as soother bottle and anything else I wanna be trated like a newborn babygirl and everthing anything u want

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