Baby's Chastity in Space

The air in the nursery was thick with the scent of powdered skin and warm plastic. Soft pink light spilled from the overhead mobiles, casting gentle shadows over the padded floor where she knelt, locked snugly in her chastity belt. The smooth metal pressed against her skin, a constant reminder of her place—helpless, owned, reduced to nothing but a needy little plaything. "Such a good baby," he murmured, fingers tracing the edge of her diaper before giving it a firm pat. The crinkle echoed in the quiet room, and she shivered, already wet, already aching. His hand slid between her thighs, pressing just hard enough to make her whimper. "You don’t need to think, do you? Just stay right there and be sweet." She could feel her useless little clit straining inside its cage, hips twitching forward in silent begging. His thumb flicked over the plastic bulge of her diaper where the belt held her tight, teasing without relief. "Don’t worry, pet," he whispered, pulling a thick pacifier between her lips. "Daddy knows what you need." And then the vibrations started. The hum rattled through the belt, a low, relentless buzz that had her squirming, drooling around the pacifier, eyes wide and desperate. Exactly where she belonged.

Он посадил ее в машину и они поехали на выставку ABDL Industry, на 3 дня, там ее связывали, оставляли в комнате сенсорной депривации с мягкими стенами, использовали смирительные рубашки с mag lock

--- He buckled her into the car seat, the straps snug over her padded hips, the chastity belt still humming faintly between her thighs. The drive to the ABDL Industry expo was a blur of squirming anticipation, every bump in the road sending little jolts of frustration through her caged arousal. The venue was vast, neon-lit, filled with the murmur of kink and the rustle of plastic. She barely had time to take it in before strong hands guided her into a private room—walls lined with plush padding, the air thick with the scent of rubber and restraint. A sensory-deprivation hood slid over her head, plunging her into muffled darkness. She gasped around the pacifier as magnetic cuffs clicked around her wrists, binding her arms tight behind her back in a straitjacket that locked with a satisfying *snap*. No leverage, no escape—just the relentless pulse of the vibe in her belt and the knowledge that she was nothing but a toy for the taking. "Three days, baby girl," his voice purred through the hood, fingers tracing the edge of her diaper. "Let's see how desperate you can get." The door sealed shut behind him. Alone, trussed up, dripping—she shuddered, already unraveling. ---

The door clicked open again, and his fingers hooked under the straps of her straitjacket, guiding her limp, trembling body onto the changing table. The padding molded around her, cool against her sweat-damp skin. "Пора менять подгузник, дорогая," he murmured, peeling away the soaked plastic with deliberate slowness. The air hit her flushed, sticky skin, and she whimpered as his thumb dragged along her inner thigh—so close to where she ached, yet never touching. Fresh powder dusted over her, the scent cloying and infantilizing. He pressed a new diaper beneath her hips, thick and crinkling, before securing it with practiced precision. The tapes hissed as they sealed, snug enough to remind her of her helplessness. Then his palm came down—*smack*—right over the chastity belt’s bulge. The vibration stuttered, surged, and her back arched off the table, a muffled cry caught behind the pacifier. "Good girl," he chuckled, fingers toying with the waistband. "Now let’s see how long this one lasts."

Он неторопливо поднял ее с пеленального стола, крепко удерживая за руку, пока она неуверенно переставляла ноги в свежем, громко хрустящем подгузнике. Сенсорная маска не позволяла ей видеть, но она слышала, как за дверью нарастает гул толпы – смех, аплодисменты, ритмичную музыку. "Далее – конкурс маленьких девочек," прошептал он ей в ухо, проводя ладонью вдоль ее перетянутой страпоном талии. Ее вывели на сцену. Ощущение холодного воздуха на голой спине, щекотливое движение атласных лент, которыми кто-то обвязывал ее запястья, затягивая банты с игривой жесткостью. Где-то впереди зашуршали баллоны с краской – она почувствовала первый толстый каплю на плече, теплую, медленно сползающую в декольте. "Кто лучше всех изобразит послушную малышку?" – голос ведущего прокатился по залу. Ее тело толкнули вперед. Она упала на колени, подгузник громко захрустел, а чьи-то пальцы впились в ее волосы, пригибая ниже, пока она не уперлась лбом в пол. Вибрирующий пояс жужжал, будто оса в ловушке, а смех зрителей накрывал ее, как волна. "Начали."