Usually, a pillar of fire erupting in the middle of one's bedroom would be cause for alarm and panic, but not for Marco Diaz. When the centre of his bedroom suddenly combusted into a column of white-hot fire, he simply smiled and got up from his bed, having been waiting for this all day. The fire didn't spread or burn his abode down. Instead, a horned figure appeared in it and walked out, a big, fanged smile on his face.
"Marco!" Tom, the demon prince, declared, his arms wide-open as he stepped out of the hellfire as if it were nothing at all. In the fire, Marco could still see two figures, one the size of a regular human and the other gargantuan. He waved to Dave and Wrathmelior, Tom's parents, who, despite being extra-dimensional royalty, seemed content to have their son date a regular human boy. They waved back and the fire dissipated into nothing.
"Tom!" Marco yelled back, walking up to his boyfriend and pulling him into a tight hug. "It's been way too long, dude!" He said, pulling back and kissing the corner of Tom's mouth. That sent a red tinge across Tom's face, and a dopey smile spread across his cheeks.
"Yeah, it has," the demon said, locking hands with Marco and planting a quick kiss on his lips, too. "I mean, it's been three days, but that's still way too long!" He added, feeling himself get into a better and better mood every second he was in the room with Marco. He and his parents had a…lively discussion before he left, and he was ready to forget it.
Tom left his overnight bag on Marco's bed and the pair were about to leave hand-in-hand before the plume of fire exploded in the middle of Marco's room again. Dave Lucitor stood there, his eyes narrowed at Tom. He held what looked to be a violet laptop bag, but bigger, by the strap.
"You forgot something, Thomas," he said with bite. Tom's face flared deep crimson, and he dashed over to his father and snatched the bag from him and tried to push him back through the pillar of flames. "Don't forget to-"
"I know!" Tom yelled. Dave gave him a stern look before looking at Marco with a small smile and a curt nod. He was an unusually amiable man for being the King of the Underworld, the real-life equivalent to Hades, Pluto and Lucifer. Though that might've just been because he was dating his son which might be seen as a privileged position.
"What, uh, what ya got there?" Marco asked, stepping towards his boyfriend. It seemed Tom had forgotten he was there and jumped three feet in the air. He clutched the bag to his chest and faced Marco with the most harrowed expression the human had ever seen.
"Nothing!" Tom said. He dashed over to Marco's bed and shoved the purple bag under it. "Marco, I'm begging you, as your boyfriend, please, please, please don't look in that bag or ask me to tell you about it." He clapped his hands on the human's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes, his stare so deep that Marco was sure he could feel the gaze on his soul. Tom was really begging him, the prince of the Underworld was begging him, as if knowing what was in that bag would bring ruin to the world and all the people who resided in it.
It was serious, but, apparently, Tom was desperate enough to beg Marco to ignore it.
"Okay." Marco nodded, not wanting to see his boyfriend be in any more emotional distress. "Okay, I'll pretend like I never saw it." He put one hand on his heart and one in the air like a boy-scout. "I sweat it on the River Styx." He winked, knowing that Tom was less than a fan of that phrase. But then, he smiled a small happy smile that melted all earlier stresses and worries away. Tom pulled Marco into a tight hug, one filled with appreciation and relief.
"Thanks," Tom muttered, careful not to jab Marco with his horns.
"C'mon, I've got the Mackie Hand boxset ready and waiting with our nachos!" Marco said, pulling Tom by the hand downstairs.
They cuddled cosily for the first movie, on opposite sides of the couch for the second after a quality-related disagreement and were on top of each other for the notoriously terrible third instalment. As the film wrapped up, Marco was resting his head on Tom's chest, listening more to his demon-boyfriend's sporadic heartbeat than the actual film.
"That's like, your fifth soda," Marco observed as Tom crushed the can and dropped it next to the rest.
"It's no biggie. Your boy has prime demon DNA. Nothing can upset this stomach." He punctuated his sentence with a belch that rang through Marco's head. The human chuckled and sat up as the credits rolled. He stretched with a yawn, feeling more than a little drowsy. He ran a hand over his neck, feeling several little love-nips that Tom had left on him during the rather boring third film. It was a shame they were ending on that one, the fourth was quite good, but they'd have tomorrow for that.
"Come on, let's tidy things up and head to bed," Marco said, pulling Tom up even though the demon gave a whine of protest. Many hands make little work, as they say, especially since Tom's hands were detachable and could go into the kitchen to fetch bin-bags and pick up anything from all parts of the floor from his spot on the couch.
"You better not set my bed on fire this time," Marco said as he pulled off his comfortable, oversized tee-shirt and laid it over the back of his desk chair. Usually, he'd sleep in it, but with Tom in the bed, he knew he wouldn't even be using the covers, let alone a whole layer of clothing. He, like Tom, would be wearing only boxers to bed. Well, Marco would be wearing boxers. Tom had red briefs.
"I had the sniffles, then. I promise there'll be no sneezing this time," Tom said, popping his horns off the sides of his head, faint ghostly spectres looming out of the exit holes for a moment before he shook his hair over them. He placed his horns onto an obsidian bust of himself he had on Marco's nightstand and scratched the spots on his head where the horns had been.
Marco had seen him do this before, but he couldn't help but giggle as his boyfriend scratched the sides of his head like a puppy. He flicked the light off and made his way over to bed by the light of a green flame in Tom's hand, a flame he held high above the bedsheets and clenched out when Marco made it over to the bed.
"Night," Marco said, cuddling up close to Tom, liking being the big spoon.
"Night," Tom replied through a yawn, his red tail snaking loosely around his boyfriend's leg. He loved that tail, it was too cute. He was glad Tom had gotten more comfortable with having it out. Before, he hid it in his shorts or pants, embarrassed to have it be seen. But, now, he was…less so. He'd still keep it hidden in public, but, privately, he was all too happy to tease Marco by sneakily tickling him with it. Sometimes, he let his emotions slip out through it, like wrapping it around Marco any way he could when he was nervous or letting it waft about carelessly when he was content.
Tom was like a space-heater and was able to adjust his temperature somewhat so that Marco didn't melt during the night. He'd just sweat a bit. Even though it was a bit warmer than usual, Marco was sleeping well with his boyfriend up against him, his even breathing sending the human into rhythmic dreams starring Mackie Hand, Hekapoo, and John Travolta, funnily enough. Then, he was stirred from his sleep when a pungent smell seeped into his nostrils.
"Wha'?" He groaned groggily, pushing himself up with one arm and wiping sleep from his eyes. Tom was shifting, too, and that smell was getting much stronger. He put a hand over his nose as it quickly got much worse. "Tom? Tom, can you smell that?" Marco reached behind his bedside table and switched on his lamp, closing his eyes to let them adjust for a minute.
He looked back to see that Tom was sitting up too, his hands over his face, his shoulders shaking and the rest of his body trembling. "Tom? What's…Oh." Marco's eyes drifted down and he saw the source of the smell. His cheeks tinged pink from second-hand embarrassment. "Jeez…" He said awkwardly as he tried to avert his eyes from the puddle Tom was sitting in, a puddle of his own making that was quickly seeping into Marco's bedsheets.
"I mean-" Marco said quickly, realising he'd need to do damage control fast. Tom's self-esteem was shaky on a good day, but with this? Oh, boy. There was no telling the depths his mental state would plunge to if Marco wasn't as sensitive as humanly, or demonly, possible. "It's no biggie," he said softly, leaning in gingerly pulling one of his boyfriend's hands away from his face. Tom's eyes were closed tight, tears streaming from them, his entire face, neck and pointed ears a deep shade of crimson.
Marco pressed a kiss to the demon prince's cheek and stroked his hair, trying to get him to calm down to the point he could speak again. "Shh, it's okay, Tom, really. Accidents happen sometimes. It's not like you did it on purpose." He chuckled, trying to lighten the situation. It didn't work. If anything, Tom seemed to curl in on himself even more.
Then, Tom shook his head and hiccupped. "S-Sorry, Marco," he sobbed, wiping tears from his three eyes with the backs of his hands. "I, I should've…" He stopped, each word seeming like it took a herculean amount of effort to say. "I thought that I could- that I wouldn't-" Each thought got interrupted by a fresh maelstrom of shame that raged inside the demon. Had he his horns on, he may have combusted. Luckily, without them, his powers were more restrained than that.
"Tom?" Marco's brows furrowed. Surely, Tom hadn't been expecting something like this to happen. It was a freak accident that happened because Tom drank one-too-many sodas before bed. It could happen to anyone. Right?
Tom shifted, yellow drops leaking from underneath his sodden briefs, not doing more damage than had already been done. Marco watched as he awkwardly got off the bed and onto his knees, reaching for something underneath the bed. Then, he recalled the bag that Dave Lucitor had suddenly and unceremoniously deposited into Marco's room, much to the demon prince's chagrin. He'd shoved it away, and it laid forgotten for the whole night. Out of sight, out of mind, just like Tom had wanted.
Tom rose again, the purple bag clutched in his arms as if it were a lifebuoy and he was adrift in a vast and endless ocean. Now that he got a look at it again, a proper look now that it was the centre of attention, Marco realised why it had seemed familiar before. It wasn't an oversized laptop bag, it was a baby changing bag, the kind he'd see mothers carrying on their shoulders or hanging off strollers.
"Tom?" He asked again, reaching his hand out tentatively, treating Tom as if he were a skittish bird that would take off at any moment. "What's…"
The demon prince, future ruler of the Underworld, sniffled like a little boy in his wet underwear, his liquid shame still leaking down his legs. He held the bag out for his boyfriend to take, and Marco did. Looking thoughtfully at Tom, who had reverted to shutting his eyes and hoping this was all a terrible nightmare, Marco undid the snaps and flipped the flap over. He looked in and grimaced.
It was exactly what he'd expected, each and every item was present and accounted for. There were wet-wipes, talcum-powder, skin-cream, nappy-bags, and, the pièce de résistance, the nappies themselves. Three to be exact, though instead of the typical white or pink or baby-blue that might occupy a human parent's such bag, these ones were red, a deep crimson that didn't quite match the flush of Tom's cheeks at that moment, but they were close.
Marco also found, tucked away in a pocket that made up the back of the bag, a paddle. He took it out and inspected it closely, thinking that surely this was all some practical joke, that his boyfriend was playing an elaborate trick on him that Dave Lucitor was in on, one that involved this bag and a concoction of warm lemon-juice and vinegar that Tom poured onto his own boyhood and all over Marco's bed. The paddle was heavy and distinctly black as if it were carved from burnt oak with several holes drilled into it in a seemingly random pattern. Unlike burnt wood, the paddle was solid as stone and seemed to yearn for a pair of ripe buttocks to beat.
The longer he held it the more Marco envisioned Jeremy Birnbaum, that insufferable, miserable, snot-nosed, rat-faced, rich kid, over his lap, naked and sprawled, begging for mercy as Marco swung the weapon in his hand through the air and clapped it headily into the boy's pale cheeks, reddening them and making them feel as if they were being stung a thousand times over by the most irate of hornets!
Marco shook his head and put the paddle down, not wanting those thoughts to flood his mind. At least, not right now.
"Tom, dude, what is all this?" Marco asked, though he knew exactly what each item was individually, and he knew that they all typically belonged together, and he knew that Tom had had an accident just a few minutes before. The pieces were all there, he just needed to put them together as simple as that. But, he didn't want to. He wanted to believe that this was all still a part of his very odd dream, the one with John Travolta, who Marco now recalled had been in drag at the time.
It took a minute for Tom to steady his breathing enough to eke out a single sound, and a couple minutes more of stewing in his own stink for him to find the words necessary to tell Marco what was what. "I…I started wetting…again…" He admitted, the words falling from his lips like water over a cliff. He couldn't feel his lips as they mouthed the words, he just forced them out as if through a mould, wanting to tell Marco the truth without actually having to say it.
But he had, and even worse, when he opened his eyes he saw the paddle, that instrument of hellish torture, on the bed, taunting him with its broad, hard surface and that terrible word carved into it. Thankfully, it seemed that Marco had only seen the reverse side, which didn't have the word cruelly etched into it. That would've been another nail in his coffin, though a relatively small one in comparison to the several that'd been hammered in over the last few minutes.
"Oh." It was all Marco could say to that. He wasn't sure what to think or do. He knew he should be supportive and tell Tom everything was fine, that it wasn't a big deal, but…it kind of was. He wasn't just anybody, he was the prince of the Underworld, someone with unimaginable power and authority and he was…wetting the bed at age fourteen consistently enough to warrant all these materials.
No! Marco shook his head. He could not let all those happenstances cloud the fact that Tom was still a kid, a kid who obviously needed support and reassurance. There was no doubt in Marco's mind that Tom had had all those nasty thoughts about himself before and felt the overwhelming pressure from the office that awaited him to not have this kind of flaw.
But…there was one thing that bugged Marco.
"Tom…if you knew you might…wet the bed…why'd you not wear one of these to bed?" He asked, holding up one of the red diapers. "And…why didn't you at least go to the bathroom after having, like, five cans of soda?" He asked, thinking that Tom had to know he would've been setting himself up for something like this.
Tom looked down, ashamed, fresh tears trickling down his face, tears of shame and frustration. He shrugged and did his best to compose himself though without much success. "I thought, I just-" He shut his eyes tight and tried frantically to rub away a new volley of shame-filled tears. "I thought I wouldn't…I hoped I wouldn't, cos' if you saw me in…one of those," He pointed hatefully at the red diaper in Marco's hand. "You'd leave me." He whispered those last words as if they were a deadly poison on his lips, as if the very concept of that string of letters together in that order was equivalent to the apocalypse.
"Tom." Marco sounded hurt, he felt hurt, as if he'd been punched in the chest by an angry gorilla. He put the diaper aside and crawled off the bed, over Tom's wet-spot, and pulled his boyfriend into a tight hug. "I wouldn't leave you, not for something like this. I get it, it's embarrassing…" He looked back to the diaper bag and did his best to ignore the damp feeling up against his middle. "…But c'mon. I thought after everything we've been through you'd give me a little more credit than that." He pulled away and cupped the demon's still-flushed cheeks and wiped away his tears with his thumbs. Marco planted a small kiss on his lips and offered him a kind smile, one that told him in no uncertain terms that Marco wasn't going to leave him. But, at the same time, there was a dullness in Marco's eyes, one of disappointment and reluctance. That made Tom's demon heart ache.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Marco said, leading the other teen around to the other side of the bed, the dry side, and taking a seat on the edge and standing his boyfriend in between his legs. "First thing's first, these are coming off," Marco said, tugging at the waistband of Tom's briefs. The demon gulped and nodded, not having the fight in him to protest, not now that he'd so thoroughly humiliated and disgraced himself, no matter Marco's kind words.
With ripe embarrassment, Tom hooked his fingers into his briefs and peeled them off his sopping wet thighs. They fell to his ankles with a wet splat, and he stepped out of them and toed them away. He flushed scarlet again. Being naked in front of his boyfriend was one thing, they'd been naked around each other before. Be it in Hekapoo's dimension when Marco took him to visit the universe's greatest hot-springs, or when they first pleasured each other in this very room or after a shower when staying in each other's places, they weren't strangers to one another's bodies.
However, this was a vastly different kettle of fish. Tom's hairless member and balls were sticky and damp and beginning to sting after how long it'd been left to stew. They were in full view of his boyfriend, who still had the dignity of his boxers. His tail wrapped around his thigh as he closed his eyes and waited for the further humiliation to begin.
Marco smiled sympathetically up at his boyfriend and rubbed his side. "It's okay," he said simply and planted a kiss above Tom's naval. He then reached behind him for the purple bag and plucked the pack of baby wipes from it. He took out the first one and began to go to work.
Marco started by cleaning above and around Tom's jewels first, dancing around the edges of the spots that'd need thorough cleaning for the sake of his boyfriend's remaining dignity. It wasn't like he wanted to be cleaning Tom's pee-soaked crotch in the middle of the night, but he couldn't say the scenario wasn't awakening something in him. A stirring in his own crotch told him everything he needed to know about this new perversion.
The human swallowed a mouthful of spit and focused solely on cleaning his boyfriend's junk. With a fresh wipe, he fondled Tom's shrinking balls and wiped his taint and the insides of his thighs before moving onto the semi-still member that was already pointing at him. Wipe in hand, he grabbed the shaft, making Tom hiss aloud and his toes curl. Red-cheeked, Marco gave it a couple of strokes before holding it with his free hand and cleaning the tip.
He heard Tom's breathing become laboured as he pulled back his foreskin and cleaned under there too, not that it was entirely necessary, but he felt like Tom deserved something for going through such a humiliating experience. To that effect, Marco held the wipe over Tom's tip with one hand and with the other he started to stroke the other boy's length properly.
"M-Marco!" The demon moaned under his breath, his hands threading through his hair as they struggled to find something to do. Shame began to be eked out by pleasure as his boyfriend's dexterous hand pumped his cock. He went slowly at first before quickly gaining traction. Tom bucked into the hold several times as he felt a build-up behind his naval. He squeezed his eyes closed and began tugging on his hair. He clenched his bare butt-cheeks as his breathing became more laboured, his whole body shuddering as he felt a rush break through his abdomen, and he shot a hot and thick fluid into Marco's hands!
Marco was prepared though and caught Tom's seed in the wipe, gave the sensitive tip a quick clean and proceeded with the task at hand. Tom had noticeably relaxed, he was less tense and the aura of shame and humiliation that had surrounded him had dissipated somewhat.
"I expect to be paid back for that," he said, giving Tom a cheeky upward glance. Tom smiled bashfully as his boyfriend wiped up and down the insides of his thighs and nodded, glad that the tension he'd brought on their night had fizzled.
A moment later, Marco turned Tom on the spot, so, now, the human was looking straight at the demon's pale rear. The view wasn't doing Marco's boner any favours, but he knew it wasn't the time for that. He massaged the base of the tail, earning a mewl from Tom, and said tail then wrapped around Marco's forearm. Now that it was out of the way, Marco was able to work without its interference. With a new wipe, he cleaned the backs of Tom's thighs, his taint and between his cheeks, wanting to make sure there was no hint of his accident remaining. He wasn't sure if demons got rashes from such a thing, but he wasn't taking the risk.
"There, all done," Marco said, giving Tom's rear a playful smack, at which he yipped, and stood, his hard-on tenting his boxers something fierce.
"Okay…Um…Thanks," Tom mumbled, turning around, a hand over his boyhood, his cheeks pink.
"Don't mention it," Marco said with a smile, cupping Tom's cheek and kissing him on the nose. "C'mon, let's change the sheets. And so, they did. Marco fetched a clean set from his wardrobe as Tom pulled the soiled ones from the mattress. And, since he hadn't been told to redress, he didn't. The whole time, Tom was unnerved by the paddle lying on the bedside table, constantly catching his eye like a flare.
He dreaded the notion of Marco using it on him, though part of him said he deserved it. Even so, the prospect made him tremble. Marco wasn't a pushover, and, with that paddle, in particular, he'd be able to inflict a lot of pain onto the demon's sorry rear.
After the sheets were replaced, Tom went to clean the few spots on the floor he'd dripped onto as Marco put the soiled ones into his wash hamper. The bag had found it's way to the floor and the paddle on the bedside table. Tom didn't like that. It was as if it had a will of its own, appearing wherever necessary to find its next bottom to batter. Over the course of his childhood and adolescence, his father had come into his room with the intent to chastise, only for the paddle to appear on his bed as if it sensed Dave Lucitor's ire and Tom's fear.
The demon had tried to get rid of it several times, but it always came back. It wouldn't burn, any cracks would close and all breaks would pull themselves together again. It was a hellish instrument, and that term wasn't tossed around lightly in the Underworld.
"Well, that's done," Marco said, rubbing his hands together as he approached Tom, who had been staring at the paddle intently for over a minute. "Oh. Yeah," The human said, brushing past his boyfriend and picking the pure-black weapon up. "I saw this earlier. I'm guessing…Yeah." He didn't finish the thought, not wanting his boyfriend to have to admit to further humiliation.
Marco now saw the word etched into the other side. 'NAUGHTY'. The holes to reduce air resistance were drilled intermittently across the lettering, so it looked random from the opposite side. "Huh." He traced the 'N' and turned the paddle in his hand, and thoughts began to swirl in his head. Resentful thoughts, thoughts that told him that Tom was too old for such immature behaviour, that his boyfriend ought to get a grip and grow up.
Not liking what he was thinking, Marco pinched himself. The thoughts ebbed away, but there were still foggy whispers telling him that Tom deserved some retribution, that the utter humiliation wasn't enough, that he deserved a more hardy reminder, and the scary part was, Marco saw the logic.
Sure, perhaps Tom was regressing a bit. Maybe he needed the diapers and all that, but he shouldn't have hid it from Marco when he was sleeping in his bed, let alone after downing so many drinks just before and not even using the facilities beforehand. He was reckless, careless, and inconsiderate of the position he was putting Marco in.
"Marco?" Tom asked softly, breaking the human out of his reverie. He didn't like how Marco was staring so intently at the weapon. His dad had acted just the same way, as if it were whispering things to him, convincing him that Tom deserved a severe reprimand for whatever minor infraction he'd committed.
Marco looked over his shoulder and eyed his boyfriend's naked body up and down. His tail was curled around his thigh, his hands in fists against his sides and his eyes wide. The human's hand snapped out, grabbing Tom's wrist.
"What—" Tom yipped out as he was pulled suddenly. Marco had swiftly seated himself on his freshly changed bed sheets and yanked the squalling demon over his lap, his bare bottom upturned.
"Marco, stop!" He begged, tears forming in his three eyes again. He was trembling in every limb and felt like a small, helpless child. This couldn't be happening, not from Marco of all people! Marco was his kind, affectionate, sweet, considerate, compassionate and amazing boyfriend! He put up with all of Tom's issues and never asked for anything in return! He couldn't be doing this! He wouldn't be doing this! It was that damn paddle! It was a curse, an unyielding, evil curse! That was the only explanation for why his amazing partner was turning on him like this.
SMACK!
Tom cried out in pain, the tears starting to fall, as the first of God knows how many spanks blazed his naked rear. "Please!" He begged, trying to reach back to stop Marco's arm. The human grabbed the demon's wrist and bent it up his back and held him down hard. Tom was stronger, he knew he was, and he wanted to escape. But he couldn't. His horns were well out of reach and they held much of his power. Not all, just a considerable amount. Whatever power remained to him felt like it was being snuffed out by the dreaded instrument that went SMACK against his cheeks. It made him want to give in.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
A further eight blistering batterings bashed into Tom's pinkening bottom. He hiccupped and writhed and feebly attempted resistance, but he found his will being soundly and succinctly blown out by his boyfriend's swinging arm.
"Marco…Please…" He mewled, hoping to override the paddle's corruption by invoking Marco's inhuman level of compassion. For an instant he thought it had worked as the paddle stayed high in the air, stalling on its eleventh strike as the human looked down at the naked, submissive, scared boy splayed across his lap.
Tom could see Marco's eyes flitting left and right as if having an argument with himself. It was the longest minute of his life. Sweat dripped down his brow, his bottom quivered at the uncertainty of it all. Would heit proceed to be beaten or not? Marco's grip on his wrist tightened, and Tom's hope quickly withered away.
Whistling through the air, the paddle crashed into Tom's tender buttocks with all the rage and fury of a rushing waterfall. He cried, trying to reach back to rub the fierce and fiery sting away but it was no good. He was weak, and he was trapped, completely at the mercy of that damnable paddle that seemed to be a tumour on his very existence.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Tom wailed and wept as his beloved boyfriend lit up his very sorry backside. "Please!" He begged between wracking sobs. "I'm sorry! I'll be better! Please!" He blubbered on, his prostrations going unheeded and unheard.
A flicker of hope sparked when he felt Marco shifting his position, thinking he was going to be let up. It was snuffed out almost as quickly. Marco was simply raising one leg, bringing Tom's bottom up higher so that his oh-so-sensitive sit-spots were in the line of fire.
"Please! No! No! Please- Ahh!" Tom cried out as Marco brought the paddle down with a sickeningly fast SMACK that echoed throughout the empty house. Tom bucked and struggled as another SMACK lit his sit-spots on fire.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
It seemed to be endless to the demon prince. His loud, heaving pleas fell on deaf ears as his cheeks bounced and reddened with every subsequent spank. He fell limp over Marco's lap, no longer having the will to put up even the most meagre resistance. His bottom felt like it was being lowered into the Phlegethon to burn and roast, only to be stabbed with a thousand needles after it was mercifully pulled up. Then, it would be lowered again, then stabbed again, over and over and over again to the point that all Tom could feel was the searing pain in his backside.
"Marco…Marco." He mumbled, hoping against hope that his voice would reach his boyfriend and snap him out of the paddle's hypnosis. He hated the new spark of hope that popped in his chest when he felt Marco shift his legs again and the spanking pause. He hated it because, like before, Marco was only readjusting the position of his bare bottom. He lowered his leg again so the plump crests of Tom's butt-cheeks were once again the primary targets.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Thirteen smacks into the position, Tom felt himself get cursed with the worst feeling possible. Well, worst aside from the inferno that was his rear. He felt pressure built in his lower abdomen, the call of nature telling him it was time for him to go. Only, he hadn't the will to hold it in for very long, his body was in too much distress.
"Marco! Marco, please! I gotta pee!" He cried, his legs squirming and his cock starting to drip oh-so-lightly.
Tom felt a rush of vertigo as he was pulled to his feet. He hissed in pain as his battered cheeks and thighs rubbed against each other. He probably would've collapsed in a heap were it not for Marco's steel grip on his upper arm.
His eyes were blurry from crying, his face streaked with tears and snot. Even so, he was able to make out a vague red shape that Marco seemingly pulled from nowhere. He wiped his eyes clear and much to his further humiliation saw that Marco was holding one of his diapers open. He pushed the soft, plush material up against Tom's dribbling member.
"Go."
Tom almost didn't recognise Marco's voice. It was so dark and cold and so very unlike him in every possible way. The paddle's influence was affecting him far more than it ever did his father. He found himself compelled to obey it. He knew that going against it would mean a whole new world of flaming agony localised entirely around his derriere.
His arms flat against his side and his tail wrapped around his leg, Tom let the floodgates go and peed into the diaper being held for him. His face flushed a deeper shade of red than his rear as he felt like he was a toddler again, too little and too immature to go potty by himself, so he needed help. He sobbed and hiccupped. He was unfit to be a prince, to be ordained as the future ruler of the underworld and, above all, unworthy of being Marco Diaz's boyfriend.
"I'm sorry." He hiccupped, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was trembling in every limb, his whole body wracked with sobs.
"Tom?" Marco said, his voice sounding dazed and confused. Tom's head snapped to look at him. He was looking around, one hand rubbing the back of his head while the other was still…He looked like he was about to pull away, but Tom hadn't finished.
"Don't!" He said, his hands going to keep Marco's wrist where it was. Feeling a fresh wave of humiliation wash over him, Tom did his business as quickly as he could, the diaper sagging in Marco's hand. A moment later, Tom let go. "D- Done," he stuttered, thinking he'd never be able to look Marco in the eye again after this.
Marco pulled the soiled garment away, wrapped it with its tabs and bagged it before addressing his nude boyfriend. "I…I don't know what happened," he said, looking over his shoulder at the black paddle that was resting on his bed. "It…spoke to me, made me think things. I'm, I'm so sorry."
Tom couldn't help but break down even further at that. He threw his arms around Marco and sobbed into his neck. Marco reciprocated and petted his hair. He then sat back on the bed and had Tom straddle his lap so the demon could stay buried in his chest and sob out everything he needed to.
"It's…It's over now," Marco said, feeling the impact of what he'd done wash over him in a wave of guilt. He'd hurt his boyfriend so much, too much. He looked down. Tom's rear was a deep dark shade of red, tinged purple. It must've been agony.
"I- I- I'm sorry." Tom hiccupped, relishing in the human's hold, not wanting to be anywhere else in any dimension.
"Don't be, it was-"
"The paddle!" Tom spat with pure vitriol. "It's a curse! It follows me around wherever I go and makes anyone who holds it wanna spank me for any little thing!" He buried his face deeper into Marco's neck, finding himself calm down as he listened to his heartbeat.
After a few minutes of letting his boyfriend cry it out, Marco spoke. "I have an idea."
A moment later both teens were standing in front of a portal carved into the air with Marco's dimensional scissors. Tom shivered, still nude, as a breeze brushed through it. "Do you wanna do the honours?" Marco asked, presenting the paddle to Tom.
"With pleasure!" He said, wiping his nose with his wrist. He grabbed the paddle by the broad end and hurled it into the swirling gateway, hoping that would be the last of it. He hoped so hard.
Marco closed the portal and took Tom's hand. He peeked at the demon's behind and winced. The word 'NAUGHTY' was seared into his cheeks and his sit-spots. "You okay?" He asked, reaching a hand down to caress a wounded cheek.
Tom hissed but did find relief in the gesture, even going as far as to push his bottom into the touch. "Yeah," he said tearily, though his whole rear-end felt like it was still on fire. It would certainly be bruised and in pain for several days. The paddle's magic seemed to take his demonic constitution into consideration and then completely disregard it. "It hurts a lot still, but you're back to normal so, yeah, I'm good." With a breath of relief, he wrapped his arms around Marco and used his tail to guide his hands down to his sore bottom. Marco got the message and began to tenderly rub them.
"We should probably get back to bed soon," Tom said a few minutes later after a yawn.
"Probably," Marco said, pulling away and cupping Tom's face and placing a kiss on his lips. After having the paddle possess him and whisper horrible things in his ear, he was glad to have Tom there. The demon reminded him that he was in reality, that he was himself as no black artifact could replicate the fluttering in his heart when he looked at Tom.
"But…" Tom said bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. "There is something. Earlier, you said you expected to be paid back for the, you know, the handy, and…Well…" He blushed, his eyes flicked to and from Marco, his intent blatant.
"Oh." Truth be told, Marco was nursing a hard-on for most of the night. Even when the paddle manipulated him, he was still staring intently at Tom's naked rear which was guaranteed to have an effect on him. Even now, Tom was pressed up against him, naked and unabashed, and, even though his carnal wants were far down his list of priorities, he couldn't stop them from making themselves known. "You don't have to, after everything—"
"No! I want to!" Tom declared. "It'll help take my mind off…It." The unspoken 'it' referring to his wetting, his spanking and the whole affair in general.
"If you're sure." Marco pressed his forehead to Tom's and peppered a tiny kiss onto his nose.
"I am."
Only a minute later, Tom was on the bed on all fours, his scarlet rear raised high and his head resting in his folded arms. Marco was busy fishing through his bedside cabinet, pulling out the two things he needed. The first being lube, the second being the rubber.
Not wanting to soil fresh sheets, Marco laid a towel underneath Tom, there to catch anything that…dripped. The human slid his boxers to his ankles and stepped out of them, his member hard, the tip glistening, his shaft veiny and his balls musky. Tom could get a whiff of them from where he was, and it made him tremble in anticipation.
Marco slipped the rubber over his cock and took his position behind Tom. The demon's cheeks were quivering, probably still in pain. Tom's tail wrapped around Marco's forearm, urging him on. With a flick of his thumb, Marco uncapped the lube and poured it down his boyfriend's crack, earning a light gasp from him. Marco traced his fingers down the hot partition until he found Tom's entrance. He pushed a finger in. Tom moaned, and Marco was grateful they had the house to themselves. This was never a quiet affair.
Given his biology, Tom loosened up easily. According to him, he was one-sixteenth succubus, or incubus, since Tom was a boy, and that made these kinds of things very easy for him. So much so that Marco was easily able to work a second and third finger into his boyfriend without much issue at all.
"Marco…" Tom drawled, his rear shaking in the air, begging for more. Marco slathered his waiting member with the lube and pressed his tip to Tom's eager entrance. With a deep breath, he pushed in. Tom gasped and clutched at the sheets, making an effort not to make them smoulder.
Marco bit his lip and put his hands on Tom's hips. He could feel the heat of arousal course through his body and take hold! He chalked it up to Tom's aforementioned succubus heritage, but he knew that a lot of it was just him. With a grunt, he slid his whole member into Tom, striking something within him that made the demon moan and writhe under him. Marco would bet any amount of money that Tom's hairless member was dripping white onto their towel.
"Marco! Move!" Tom pleaded, sounding so desperate for more. He didn't even seem bothered that Marco had clapped into his burning red rear. Ultimately though, Marco complied, rearing back and clapping into Tom, striking that spot again, and, like before, Tom howled aloud, perhaps alerting a couple of neighbours, but Marco couldn't even begin to approach caring about that.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
Marco quickly picked up the pace, sliding in and out of Tom so fast the sound was akin to a crowd's raucous applause! Tom's breathing quickened as he felt himself filled and emptied over and over and over again, each thrust filling him with a bolt of euphoria and pleasure so intense that his limbs all turned to jelly and his voice became a cacophony of curses and moans.
Then, Marco shoved Tom's face into the pillows and forced him to lie flat. Marco then pulled up his hips and loomed over the demon like a lion over a prone zebra. The human's hips rocked back and forth, his ministrations grinding the demon's cock into the towel beneath them as he pounded into him over and over, hitting that spot that made him see stars with such inhuman accuracy that Tom wondered if Marco wasn't part incubus. There was no way a regular human could be this amazing! The burning of his well-spanked rear paled in comparison to the overload of sensations Marco forced on him.
"Marco! Marco! Marco!" He yelled, fisting the bedsheets as he felt his body give in to what the human owning it wanted it to do. He came, shooting thick ropes of white onto the towel, spewing onto his tummy, his balls pulling up into his body as Marco continued to pound into Tom's now tightened hole, feeling his own long-awaited orgasm rush at him like a raging bull!
"T-Tom!" He shouted, feeling that stretched coil in his gut rip apart as he too spilled his seed, filling the rubber around his cock so much that his cum leaked out around the base, messing his nest of pubes.
Marco collapsed onto his bow-legged demon, both of them heaving breaths as they recovered from their bout of love-making.
"I love you," Tom said under his breath, knowing that the only thing that could make the moment better would be if his boyfriend shot his cum inside him, letting his seed fill him, but there would've been a genuine risk to that, one resulting in Marco being forced into the position of King Consort of the Underworld.
"I love you, too," Marco whispered, planting butterfly kisses onto Tom's nape. As much as he would've loved to fall asleep like that, Marco had one more thing in mind that had to be done. Letting himself relish in his demon's heat for a few minutes more, the human pulled himself out of Tom, pulled off his used rubber and knotted it.
"Mm?" Tom moaned, having expected them to fall asleep as they were. "Marco?" He pushed himself up, his lower half more wobbly than stilts made of jelly. Marco eased his boyfriend onto his back and pulled him over to the edge of the bed. "What are you—" He realised what was going to happen when Marco reached for the diaper bag. He groaned and put his hands over his eyes, but he didn't protest.
"Yup," Marco said, stretching his arms above his head as he placed the diaper bag on the bed next to Tom. He picked up the towel, used it to clean both his cock and Tom's stomach of their respective ejaculates, folded it in half and placed it under his boyfriend's hindquarters. He'd be willing to bet that the scorched butt-cheeks didn't appreciate being nestled up against the course material of the towel but they would just have to deal with it.
Marco gently pushed Tom's knees to his chest, who with a sigh hugged them close. "At least it's you and not my dad…" He grumbled, feeling significantly less embarrassed when he could see his boyfriend's face between his knees than his dad's. Marco had at least done proper business with that whole area, this was just…extra maintenance. That was how he decided to think of it.
Marco knew enough about the process to not make a mess of things, he had quite a few cousins and had seen it done several times. Granted that was usually with smaller people but he assumed the same logic applied here. He fingered a dollop of the skin cream onto his fingers and began to rub it onto Tom's member, balls, thighs and crack before putting a good helping onto his battered bottom. Even if Tom hissed and flinched at first, he would certainly be feeling the soothing effect before long.
After that, Marco powdered the area before taking another red diaper from the bag. He lifted Tom's rear to slide it under, pulled his legs down and made quick work of taping it up, making sure it fit nice and snug.
Pink-faced, Tom raised himself on his elbows and looked down, ignoring the smarting of his butt for the moment to bask in this new embarrassment. Marco offered him a smile and then a hand up. He took it, and despite Marco being naked while he was covered, he felt like the more exposed one, especially since he needed to hold onto his boyfriend for support. His legs still felt feeble after their intense bout of rutting.
"You know, you look kinda cute in that," Marco said, patting Tom's padded rear. The demon blushed and looked away but couldn't for long as Marco grabbed him by the face and planted a long, wet kiss on his lips. He melted into it, forgetting his state of dress for the moment.
"C'mon, let's go to sleep," Marco said when they parted for breath. Tom just nodded and let himself be lowered onto the bed, careful not to sit on his butt.
It was only then, as his head hit the pillow that Tom realised how utterly exhausted he was. With Marco at his back, cuddled into him as his big spoon, he was soon whisked off into the land of dreams, feeling more content now that he'd shared one of his biggest secrets with his boyfriend. Now, he didn't have nightmares about Marco leaving him over it. Now, he could rest peacefully, sure that his boyfriend would always have his back.