Part of him still hoped that this was a rouse, that his masters would take mercy on him. A glance around reminded him of the pile of diapers and cute by cruel looking paddle beside him. He doubted he’d be allowed to regain his adult hood, and the pink prints on the diapers removed any thoughts of at least keeping his masculinity. Glancing around futher showed another wrapped box with a note that read “from Santa, to Baby Alex.” He dreaded to think what was inside.
So this is how they meant to find him. Exhausted, spanked and sore, tied and uncomfortable, a man in a diaper and dress. He fought back the tears and tried to retain what dignity he had. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. It did not bode well.