Emma stood there, her body trembling from the emotional weight of what had just happened. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, and the soaked diaper between her legs was a constant reminder of her helplessness. The room felt suffocating, and she didn't know how much more of this she could take. She wanted to run, to escape, but Tyler was always one step ahead.
Tyler, standing a few feet away, was watching her with an expression of cruel satisfaction. He seemed to be thinking, planning his next move. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice calm but laced with authority.
"We're going to establish some rules, Emma," he said, folding his arms across his chest. His tone made it clear that there was no room for negotiation. "You need to know exactly how things are going to work from now on."
Emma looked up at him, her heart sinking even further. Rules? The very thought sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She didn't know what Tyler had planned, but she could tell from the gleam in his eyes that it wasn't going to be good.
"I've decided you need to be kept in line," Tyler continued, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "And since you're just a little toddler, we're going to treat you like one. That means you follow my rules, or there will be consequences. Understood?"
Emma swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to say no, to refuse, but she knew it wouldn't matter. Tyler had already taken too much from her. She nodded weakly, her gaze dropping to the floor.
"Good," Tyler said with a satisfied smile. "Now, rule number one: You will wear diapers whenever we're working on the project, and whenever you're at my house. No exceptions. You don't get to take them off unless I say so."
Emma's stomach twisted at his words. The very thought of being forced to wear a diaper in his presence again made her feel sick. But Tyler wasn't done.
"Rule number two," he continued, "you will use your diaper. I don't care if you need to pee or something else—whatever it is, you do it in the diaper. Just like a real toddler."
Emma's face burned with humiliation. She couldn't believe this was happening. The idea of having to use a diaper, especially in front of Tyler, was beyond anything she could have imagined. But the fear of defying him kept her silent.
Tyler leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, commanding whisper. "And if I ever catch you trying to hold it in or take the diaper off without permission, there will be punishment. Do you understand?"
Emma's throat tightened, and she nodded again, her hands shaking at her sides.
Tyler smirked. "Good girl. Now, rule number three: You will address me as 'Sir' when we're alone. No more calling me Tyler. Toddlers don't get to call adults by their first names."
Emma's eyes widened at the demand. "S-Sir?" she stammered, horrified by the idea of having to call him that. It was another layer of control, another way for him to strip her of her independence. But the look in Tyler's eyes told her she had no choice.
"That's right," Tyler said, his voice firm. "And you'll say it every time you speak to me. Let's try it now. Say, 'Yes, Sir.'"
Emma hesitated, her mind reeling from the relentless humiliation. She didn't want to say it. She hated the thought of giving him that kind of power over her. But she could feel the pressure mounting, and she knew Tyler would only push her harder if she resisted.
Finally, with a deep breath, Emma whispered, "Y-yes, Sir."
Tyler's grin widened. "Perfect. You're learning."
Emma could feel the last shreds of her dignity slipping away. Every word, every rule Tyler laid out, was another step toward complete submission. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but the fear of what Tyler might do kept her silent.
"And rule number four," Tyler added, his voice taking on a more sinister edge, "if you want to ask for anything—like to go to the bathroom, or to take off your diaper—you'll have to ask for permission properly. That means saying something like, 'Sir, may I please use the potty?'"
Emma's face flushed even deeper. The humiliation was unbearable. The very idea of having to beg for permission like a toddler made her want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Tyler was making sure she felt every bit of her forced role, tearing down any sense of self-respect she had left.
Tyler paused, letting the tension build before adding the final, most humiliating rule. "And rule number five," he said, a cruel smile spreading across his face, "I'm the only one allowed to check or change your diaper. No one else gets to see you like this, and you don't get to change yourself. If you need a change, you come to me, and I decide when it happens."
Emma's stomach dropped. The thought of Tyler checking her diaper, of him being the only one allowed to change her, was too much to bear. Her legs felt weak beneath her, and she could hardly breathe through the overwhelming shame.
Tyler stepped back, clearly pleased with himself. "Do you understand the rules, Emma?"
Emma felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. She wanted to cry, to beg for this to stop, but all she could do was nod weakly. "Y-yes, Sir," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Good," Tyler said, leaning in one last time. "And just remember, if you break any of these rules, things will get much worse for you."
Emma stood there, trembling, her mind numb with humiliation and fear. Tyler had her completely under his control, and there was no escape. She was trapped, bound by his rules, and the knowledge that any defiance would bring even more suffering.
Tyler stepped back, giving her a smug smile. "Now, let's see how well you follow your new rules."
