HITCHHIKER
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Hitch-hiking is a way of traveling. It is a way to meet people, and have fun. It can be a bitch sometimes though. Hitching cross country is usualy a blast, but sometimes difficult when you find yourself too close to a city. This was the case for Mark. He'd made it from New Orleans to the Atlanta area in a little over a day and 2 rides, and now was having a hard time just getting through the metropolitan area. People around the cities are usualy more hesitant to pick-up strangers, and are going shorter distances anyway.
Mark's last ride had been only for two expressway exits, and now he found himself at an exit where almost no cars got on the xway. It is usualy easier to get someone to stop on the on-ramp than on the interstate itself, and in alot of places, the cops make trouble if you're on the road itself. But when you get stuck at a little used exit, you have to choose between waiting forever, or risking the hassle and going down to the main road.
The weather today sucked, and the afternoon was wearing on. For this reason Mark decided to take his chances on going down the ramp. He needed a ride that would get him clear of the city traffic. Once at the bottom, he stood in front of the 'Merging traffic' sign, his thumb stuck out for the passing cars. When anyone came driving down the ramp, he stuck out his other thumb. This stance always amused him, standing there between 2 streams of traffic, his arms stretched out like Christ on a crucifix.
He was typically tense standing there, watching the approaching traffic with care. His worry was of some nit wit choosing that spot to run off the road. He was ready to leap out of the way in that event. Also, he rehearsed in his mind what he would say in the event that a cop should chance that way and decide to harass him. Sometimes when this occured he was able to not only persuade them not to arrest him, but to take him to a spot where the traffic would be more favorable. Cops were people too, and not all bad. In his experience most were OK, but you never knew. Some amused themselves making trouble for kids. None had ever done him bad, but he had heard stories that caused him to wonder why there wasn't another revolution brewing!
After standing there for a half hour with no luck, his luck turned, but for the worse - maybe. Down the ramp came one of those blue cars with the bubblegum machine on top. It could pass, he thought, or it could stop. Alas, it rolled to a stop. The window rolled down and the man inside crooked a finger for him to walk over.
"Got some ID?"
Mark produced his ID and passed it in. The cop looked it over briefly, then instead of giving it back, placed it on his dash, then got out.
"You know it's unlawfull to hithike down here?"
"Yes, but what was I supposed to do? I got let out here, and there's no traffic coming down this ramp. Not even a place to stop and eat!"
"Too bad. Your also underage. Your folks know where you are?"
"Not exactly. They know I'm around, but not where, and they don't care."
"Well, I'll have to take you in just the same." He took Mark's bag and tossed it in the front seat of the cruiser. Mark flinched, he hated letting anything get between him and his baggage.
"Assume the position!"
"Huh?"
"Bend over the hood, kid. I have to frisk you, regulations."
Mark did as he was told, and the cop carefully ran his hands over his clothes. He took Mark's wallet, the only thing he found, and examined it's contents.
"You wouldn't get far on this little money kid." The wallet contained a mere $3.
"I manage."
"Humph." The cop, Officer Dan Bybe his nameplate read, got out his hand cuffs and secured Mark's hands behind his back, then put him in the back seat. They headed down the interstate, and got off 2 exits latter. Mark would have thought they would get off at the first exit then head back towards town, but state police tended to have there stations in odd places.
As they drove along, instead of houses and buildings becoming more common, things thinned out. Mark wondered where he was being taken, but kept it to himself. It never made any sense to hassle a cop. But pavement turned to dirt, and then they turned down a little 'two-tracker' (a road with tire tracks and grass down the middle) he became a little more worried.
"Where are we going? Is this the way to the police station?"
"Don't worry about it kid, you'll find out soon enough."
Eventualy the road, if you could call it that, came to an end in front of what appeared to be an old abandoned cabin. The cop turned off his engine and got out of the car.
"What is this place?", Mark demanded, a note of alarm entering his voice as the cop opened the cruiser's door and pulled him out.
"Come on in and find out!" Now the cop pushed Mark roughly, making him fall forward into some mud. Falling is a bitch when your hands are cuffed behind your back! He landed full down in it and struggled to get back up.
"Your a filthy mess, boy!" Then Mark heard a certain sound that was familiar, the sound of someone's pants being unzipped. Mark managed to turn around just in time to see a long thick cock hanging out of the cops uniform before the heavy spray of piss hit him full in the face.
"Hey, you sonovabitch!" Mark exclaimed. The cop bent over and slapped him full across the face.
"You will address me only as 'sir' or 'master', boy. You ever call be that again and I'll use a belt on you!"
"You can't do this to me! I have rights you know!"
The big man calmly reached down and ripped open Mark's shirt, buttons flying all over. "Get this straight, kid. Your here, and no one but you and I know that. I'm in control here, and I can do what ever I want with you. You will learn to do what ever I tell you to do!" Now he hustled Mark over to a corner of the cabin where there was a faucet and hose. Removing the handcuffs, he orddered Mark to strip completly. Mark complied, seeing no other choice. Standing there in the cold, damp air his balls were all shriveled up close to his body, his skin all goose-flesh. He closed his eyes as the spray from the hose hit him, like icesicles. At least the mud and the urine were getting washed away! Thus cleanned, they headed for the door.
Once inside, the derelect appearence of the cabin dissappeared. Inside looked liked any modern cabin. The cop ordered Mark to stay put, while he went into another room. A moment later he returned with a towel and proceeded to dry off Mark from head to foot. When the cop got to Mark's ass, he lingered, running the towel into Mark's crack and between his legs. In spite of the cold and the scarry situation, Mark felt a thrill pass up his spine, and his legs involuntarily spread a little. The cop chuckled.
"Welcome to your new home, boy."
"I'm cold."
The cop poked a finger into Mark's chest. "Cold SIR!"
"I'm cold, sir. Is there anything for me to wear?"
"Don't worry about that, you'll be warm soon enough." With that, the man went over to what appeared to be a wall, and pulled out on a light swittch there. Instead of a light coming on, a section of the wall swung out revealing a room. A strange room, it was all black and appeared bare. The cop pushed Mark inside, and said "I'll see you later."
"I gotta use a bathroom!"
"No you don't.", was all the man said as he closed the wall panel.
The room was all done in black vinyl or rubber, and padded. There was a light in the ceiling, covered by wire like a light in a gym. It wasn't as bare as it had looked from outside. There were metal rings all over, recessed into the rubber. Mark knew what they were for, and was filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. But for the moment the fear won, and he sat down in a corner and hugged himself as he shivered from the still chill air. Then, not knowing what else to do, he fell asleep.
An unknown amount of time latter, Mark woke and found himself in a sweat. The room was now quite warm. Warmth radiated from all over the floor. His naked body was slick with perspiration. Also, his bladder ached with need for relief. No provision had been made for such need, so he tried banging on the part of the wall that opened, and yelling. There was no response, and the exertion in the heat left him feeling exausted. Finaly, not knowing what else to do, he relieved himself in a corner. As the piss hit the warm floor, the smell of it came up and filled his nostrils. He felt alot better, but worried what the man would do to him for pissing on the floor. Hell, it wasn't His fault there was no bathroom!
Mark sat back down again, and contemplated what to do about his present situation. He had no idea where his clothes might be, and beyond being in a woods somewhere in Georgia, he had no idea where he was. Even if he had a chance to make a mad break to freedom, that left him stranded in the middle of nowhere, naked and alone, with a cop no doubt looking for him. If he could somehow over-power the cop, it would do him little good. Even stealing the cops cruiser, how far could he get in a stolen police car, with a cop chasing him? If caught, which was almost certain, no one would take the word of a drifting teenager against that of a trooper! Mark felt a cold anger rise in himself. It wasn't fair! He had done nothing to deserve this situation.
So it was this mood he was in as the wall opened and the cop stepped into the room. No longer in uniform, he now wore the standard jeans and T-shirt of leisure-time America. Mark glowered up at him, a look of defiance.
"Hello there little friend!" The cop looked in the corner where the puddle of piss lay. "What have we here? You know what happens to boys that piss on my floor?" With that he reached down and undid the buckle of his belt and pulled it from the loops.
"Fuck you! Where else was I supposed to go?"
"Tsk tsk, you're going to learn, boy." The cop walked over, looking down at Mark, menacing with a blank face. Mark turned away, but there was nothing behind him but a wall. The belt caught him across the cheeks of his ass and Stung! Mark yelped and tried to get up. The cop just grabbed him by the ear and hauled him painfully from the room to a chair. Then, instead of using the belt, he forced Mark across his knees like a child and whalloped his butt with his bare hands. Mark struggled and screamed, the hand was little better than the belt, but it did no good.
"Are you sorry you pissed on the floor?"
"Yes!" Mark replied, somewhat sarcasticly. A few more smacks across the ass was all he got.
"Are you real sorry?"
"Yes." Mark whimpered.
Smack! "Yes what?"
"Yes, I'm sorry!"
Smack! "Sorry, Sir!"
"I'm sorry, sir!"
"Good." With that the man piked him up and carried him across the room and threw him down on the bed there. "Get up on you knees, boy."
Mark complied, knowing what was coming, and was afraid. He pointed his cherry-red ass up and closed his eyes. The grease went on cool, and then came that big man's cock, sliding into his hole. It didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would, but he couldn't suppress a groan. When the meat was burried all the way in him, the man reached around and grabed Marks own cock, with a handfull of grease, and started stroking.
"You like that cock, don't you boy. You like my cock in your ass." In spite of himself, Mark felt his own cock begin to stiffen.
"Nooo", he moaned.
The man began slowly pulling out. It felt like it was a foot long. But before it was all the way out, he pushed it in again. "Yes, you do to like it!" Marks cock was now rock hard. "You don't like it, how come your dick's so hard?"
"I don't know!"
Smack! Another blow across his backside. "I don't know, sir! Please don't hit me!"
"Ok, I know. You like it. I'm going to pump your butt full of cum!" With that, he began pumping his rod in and out of Marks young ass, all the while stroking on Marks cock. Mark's head was confused between pleasure, pain, and humilation. He did the only thing most anyone could do under the circumstances. He came.
"Yess, you like it, boy!" The man thrust his meat in deep, and Mark felt it swell and throb as man juice squirted deep inside him. "Yea! You got a nice ass boy. I'll enjoy having you around!" He pulled his cock out, and got up.
"I'll be right back", he said, and walked out of the room. Mark saw this as his big chance, and limped over to the door going outside. To his dismay, he found it had the kind of lock that requires a key both inside and out.
"Going someplace?" The cop walked back into the room carrying a bucket and sponge, just in time to catch Mark checking the door. "You're not going anywhere. Accept it kid, your here to stay. The sooner you accept it and quit fighting, the better off you'll be." He grabbed Mark by the arm and hauled him back to the rubberized room. "Now get this mess cleaned up!", he ordered, pointing to the puddle, now beginning to dry around the edges. He pushed Mark down roughly, making him land in it. With that, he set down that bucket and tossed the sponge down beside him. "I'm going to make sure you don't make a mess like that again!", and again he left the room, pulling the wall panel closed behind him. Mark quickly cleaned the spot off the floor, certain another beating would follow if he didn't. He hoped he'd get a chance to wash himself, too. When he finished the floor, he sat down and waited.
Only a couple minutes went by when the wall swung open. "Ok boy, lay down on your back."
Mark complied, not knowing what to expect next. The cop was carrying a bag that looked somehow familiar, but it didn't register at first. He got on his knees at Marks feet, and opened the bag. It was then that Mark realized what it was. A fucking diaper bag! Mark tried to squirm away, but the cop grabbed him by the ankles. "Stay put, brat!" The man applied just enough pressure and twist to make Mark lie still. With that he pulled out a fluffy white diaper, powder, pins, and grease. Working like an expert, he had Mark all done up in no time, then got out the inevitable plastic pants and they went on too.
"That should keep you nice and snug!" And then the cop was gone again.
Mark layed there, staring at the place where there was no door only a few moments when he yanked off the plastic pants and diaper, tearing them to shreds and flinging them at the wall. No sonovabitch was going to put Him in diapers! He had to pee again, and this time he pissed right where the wall opened. Maybe he'd be lucky, and the cop would slip in it and break his fucking neck! Then he layed down and quietly cried himself to sleep.
When Mark awoke, he had to pee again, and worse, he had to shit. So he addded to the puddle in front of the entrance, getting his feet wet, but not caring. He tried to picture in his mind exactly where tha man's foot would step in the room, and there he left a smelly pile. Then sat down to await whatever happened.
He didn't have to wait too long when the wall opened, and there stood the cop, diaper bag in hand. And sure enough, the cop stepped exactly where he was supposed to. His feet flew out from under him and he landed on his ass in the puddle. Mark jumped up, and tried to make a break for the door, but the man snagged him by the foot and sent Mark down into the puddle beside him. A big hand came down across Mark's face, hard.
This time, when the diaper bag was opened, it wasn't diaper paraphenalia that came out. Instead, leather bands, the kind you see in adult stores. Mark was too weak with fright to put up even a token of protest as the man bound his wrists and ankles, working slowly, as if oblivious to the piss and shit that stained his clothes. Once Mark was thus bound, the man stood up and towered over him. "You think your clever, don't you?" He pushed Mark over into the mess, and rolled him around in it. "You like lieing in your own shit, kid?" And then he pulled out a short paddle.
"No!" Mark screamed, but the paddle connected to his ass anyway. The thin board against his wet ass hurt like hell, and Mark screamed. Again and again wood met flesh. This was no child's spanking, but a real beating. Mark ran out of breath to yell, but the beating continued. When at last it stopped, Mark hardly noticed. The pain in his ass continued.
"Please master!", Mark whimpered.
The cop stood in front of Mark, inches from his face. "Lick the shit off my shoe, boy!"
"Please, No! Please master!"
The man raised the paddle again, menacingly. Mark complied, retching. Now the cop took his clothes off.
"Lay down on your belly, boy. When Mark obeyed, the cop slid him so his face was right over a glob of crap. Mark strained to keep his face up. A foot came down, shoving his face into the smelly mass. Mark whimpered, but got no mercy. Instead, the cop climbed on top and thrust his raging prick into the bruised young ass. The man pumped hard, rubbing Mark's face in the shit all the while. Each thrust sent a new shot of pain into the boy, as the man banged against the now purple ass. Finishing, he pulled his cock out, and wiped it across Mark's face. Mark lay in his own mess and whimpered.
"Please, Oh please master, don't hurt me. I'll be good master."
"Cut the master shit, that's over. You tried to be smart, you thought you could escape. You call me 'da da' now. You thought you were too grown to wear a diaper? Well I'm going to make a real baby out of you, and I'm going to be your daddy! Say it! Say 'Yes dada, I love you dada!"
Choking, "Yes dada,I love you dada."
"Good." Dada walked out, leaving Mark lieing where he was. Mark was too scared and hurt to bother trying to crawl to a dry spot. A little while latter the cop returned, and removed the binds, and carried Mark into the bathroom. He had drawn a tub, and placed Mark in it. Gently now, he washed the boy down.
When finished, he dried him off and laid him on the bed, producing a fresh set of diaper and plastic pants. Mark didn't even struggle this time. Instead he automaticly raised his legs to let the diaper get under him, remembering without thinking how it was done when he was a real baby. The cream on his bruised butt was soothing, and Mark sighed.
"Nice and snug! Can you say that Marky?"
"Nice and snug!" Marky agreed.
"Thats my baby!" He tossled Mark's hair. "Now you stay here and be good. Dady's got to clean up the mess made by my bad boy, but then I'll make you some lunch!"
Mark was too hurt and tired to do anything else, and in fact he fell asleep. When he woke up a little latter, he heard the shower running. His bladder was full again, and being afraid to do anything else, he let go and wet himself. The warm pee spread in his diaper. He worried about a leak, but nothing happened, so he relaxed to the enevitable. When Dada came out of the shower, he came over and reached down into Mark's diaper to check.
"Well, wet already! Now was that so bad?"
"No."
He stroked between Marks legs, pressing the warm dampness against him.
"Feels kind of nice, doesn't it?"
"It's warm."
"Yup." The he caried Mark into the kitchen where there was an adult size high-chair. This he strapped Mark into, and put the tray in place. "Lunch time kiddo."
While the man busied himself preparing a good lunch, Mark had time to consider what was happening. Diapers, high chair, god new what else awaited. He had tried so hard to be an adult, leaving his family early and all, and now look! Some kook was making a baby of him! When the food was brought over, tears of self-pity were running down his face.
"There there, little boy, don't cry. Daddy won't hurt his little guy!" He stroked Mark's head gently, holding him against his chest. Mark clung, reaching out to the only person avaiable, sobbing. Daddy just stroked and made soothing sounds.
When the sobbing stopped, he put a bib on Mark, and began feeding him. Mark cooperated, feeling week and defeated. Besides, the food tasted good, and Mark was hungry. In spite of being dressed and treated like a baby, Mark ate enough for a growing boy.
After lunch, daddy sat with him in a chair, holding him comfortably against him, and fed him a bottle of warm milk. Mark soon got drowsy, and after a change into a dry diaper, he carried him into the last room of the cabin Mark hadn't seen. Mark could have guessed what it would be after all had passed. But he felt warm and full, and besides, an over-sized crib in a nursery room was better than the aufull rubber room with it's bare walls. A soft warm blanket was put over him, and Mark's last thought before falling asleep was how pretty the butterflies swinging over the crib were. Of course, his tortured mind refused to acknowledge anything strange about the bars on the side of the crib also going over the crib.