Placebo Effect
By Musuko

And there it was. The door to his bedroom, half open, with the gentle glow of a night light spilling out into the hallway. I crept on bare paws on the soft carpet, the rumble of a snore at my back, where his parents slept. Through his doorway I saw him, sleeping in the bed under a fluffy duvet patterned with cartoon dinosaurs. I held a paw over my mouth, suppressing my chuckle.
	“How cute,” I whispered. I slipped my pack off my back and eased it to the floor. My eyes stayed on him as I drew the zipper open, watching for any sign of movement, all too aware that the zipper’s metallic clicking was worrying loud. If he woke now, would I be able to do this? But he slept on, obliviously dreaming, while my heart raced and my shaking fingers lifted out the spray bottle and the rope.
	“I hope this works,” I said, creeping to his bedside, the spray bottle raised. Careful now...so very careful.
	“Mmmuh?”
	He shifted in his sleep, his arm flopping from beside his head to lay across his chest, his head turning towards me. I yanked on the trigger and doused his face in the mist, remembering to hold my breath at the same time.
	“Huh?” His eyes opened. “M-Mark? What are...what are you doing…”
	A soft groan, then his eyes fluttered shut and his head settled back onto the pillow. I clutched my chest and exhaled. I set the spray bottle down and stood upright, looking down at him. Gently, I touched my fingertip to his cheek. He didn’t react. Out cold. And so very, very pretty.
	“Perfect,” I whispered, uncoiling the rope. “And now the difficult bit…”

I knew he would be mine from the first moment I saw him, on the first day of a new school year. The place was swamped with squeaky new teenagers, running around and generally being a pain in the ass. I tried to ignore them, and when I couldn’t I just pushed through them like a shark through a school of tiny, terrified fish. It worked, of course. I knew my reputation had spread, via their brothers and sisters. They knew to be afraid of Mark, the tiger who beat other kids when they disrespected him, the tiger with the ring in his ear and the motorcycle jacket and the harley-riding dad who scared even the teachers, and that was without any of them knowing his secrets, the ones that would really make them scared!
	I made it until lunch time before I needed a break from them all. The sun was shining and the air was sweltering, and I had ducked out through the broken fire door to the quiet little spot behind the cafeteria, where the delivery trucks always parked and where the dumpsters were lined up. The school had a camera back there, but I knew it didn’t work. It was a great spot to roll up and smoke without being seen. It was my spot.
	And there I saw him, standing right where I wanted to be, wearing a dark purple hoodie and a ridiculous little backpack stuck all over with anime pin badges. He had his head down, practically stuffed into the laminated folding map the school gave all the new students.
	“Hey!” I shouted. He literally jumped! He turned to me and three things stood out to me, the three things that made me grin and know that this kid was mine. The first was the pink scarf tied around his neck and tucked down into the front of the hoodie. The second was his wide, frightened eyes. And the third, the all-important one, was the fold of white material sticking out over the top of his belt. It might have gone unnoticed by most people, but not me...definitely not me.
	After those first impressions I had much more motivation to study him more closely. A little ‘chu, standing a clear foot shorter than me, not all too uncommon normally. But with grey fur and blue cheek circles and bright orange eyes, he definitely wasn’t common. And such a girly face. I even mistook him for a girl for a moment, before he spoke.
	“Ah! H-hi…”
	“What are you doing here?” I snapped, sliding my papers and baggie back into my pocket. “You’re not supposed to be back here you know.”
	His eyes darted back to the map. “I’m a little lost.”
	He looked lost, alright. Lost and helpless. “What’s your name, kid?”
	“Jak,” he said, almost a whisper. Such confidence. Jeez, he would do so well...not.
	“Well Jak,” I said, walking over to him and lifting my arm. He flinched, and I grinned. I laid my arm across his shoulders and turned him to face away from the school, towards the dumpsters. “I’m Mark. How about you and me be friends, okay?”
	“I...I’d like that!” His feet moved with mine as I started walking, steering him along with my paw gripping his shoulder. He glanced nervously at me, at my grinning muzzle so close to his.
	“I bet you would! See, I’m a real nice guy. You’re lucky to be my friend, you know that?”
	“Uh...t-thank you.” He didn’t sound convinced. But then, I didn’t expect him to. I expected him to be frightened, and that’s exactly what he was.
	“And because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll keep your secret.”
	“What secret?” His voice squeaked. I had him.
	“You know what secret.” I yanked his shoulder, spinning him around, then gave his chest a hard shove. The map dropped to the floor and his back slammed against the dumpster. My paw gripped his neck and held him firm, just in case he had any ideas about wriggling away. My other paw slammed against his groin and squeezed, hard. He yelped, and I squeezed his neck tighter, a warning to stay quiet. “This secret!”
	And he knew what I meant. I could see it in his eyes. The white material at his beltline wasn’t the first peeking diaper I had seen in my life, and the soft, squidgy padding under his jeans and under my paw wasn’t the first diaper I had felt.
	“I c-can explain,” he whimpered.
	“Don’t bother,” I said, smiling again. I let go of his neck and patted his cheek, but kept my other paw gripping his junk. “I know what you are. You can’t hide it from me. Maybe the others, but not me.”
	“B-but…”
	“Relax! I said I’d keep your secret.” I paused. The pause was important. It let him hope, it let him think my smile was genuinely friendly, despite how rough I’d been. I waited until I saw the hesitant hope enter his eyes, before I dropped the all-important final words. “For a price.”
	He visibly sagged, and his lip trembled. His eyes even watered! I laughed.
	“Aww, what’s the matter? Baby gonna cry?”
	“N-no!”
	“You haven’t even asked me what the price is yet.”
	“W-whu...what’s the pri-”
	“You’re gonna be my little bitch and do whatever I say!”
	“That doesn’t sound very-”
	“Well tough.” I patted his cheek again, then did one of my favorite things, something that I knew from experience would be a perfect mindfuck for him: I kissed him! Not a chaste kiss, oh no. Nor a romantic kiss. I fucked his mouth hard with my tongue and raked my teeth across his lower lip, making him squeal and wriggle between me and the dumpster. And when I let go he panted and looked at me with confused, terrified eyes. And beneath my paw I felt the padding under his diaper shift and swell, heat blossoming under my fingers. He had pissed himself. He had pissed right there into his diaper. And he knew that I knew it.
	“We’re gonna be such good friends,” I whispered.

It wasn’t an arrangement that could last. It never was with these kids. Sooner or later something would come along to force things to the next step. With Jak, I enjoyed four months of treating him like my personal slave, while having everyone else assume he was my new boyfriend. I didn’t even know or care what Jak’s preferences were. I figured he might have been straight, if that was even possible for such a girly boy. It didn’t matter. The whole school knew that I fucked whoever I wanted, and he was the latest bitch to swing from my arm. But then he had to go and grow a backbone. Only part of one, mind. But enough to try and publicly “dump” me. And what’s worse was that he’d stopped wearing his diaper to school, trying to yank away my blackmail control over him. The little bitch…
	So he forced me into the next step. And with my dad’s blessing, and a bag full of his gear and the use of his car, I had my little bitch back, stolen away in the middle of the night. I smiled to myself as I drove away from his house, knowing he’d never see it again, while he lay unconscious and bound in the trunk. Well done bitch...you thought gagging on my cock in the school restrooms and carrying my bag every day was bad? Well, you’ve just traded up to the next level of hell!

My dad has some interesting interests, to say the least! The basement was all set up ready. I knew he was upstairs somewhere, enjoying one of his own playthings no doubt. I could hear the squeals. Jak was starting to wake up. It didn’t take long to get him secured where I wanted him.
	The high chair was one of dad’s, sized for “babies” like Jak. Unlike most high chairs, there was clear access to his middle, and a removable seat that would leave him suspended by the straps around his body. It was this seat I removed now, exposing his naked body and adorably small boyhood. He groaned softly, lifting his head, opening his eyes and discovering his arms strapped tight to the sides of the feeding tray.
	“Whuh?”
	“Shh,” I said. He darted his head to the sound of my voice, but I was crouched behind him, sliding a diaper up between his legs. It was nothing like the modest secret stash of diapers he had at home and used to wear to school; it was thick and bulky and utterly impossible to hide beneath clothes. But that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be going out any more.
	“M-Mark?”
	“Not any more,” I said, slapping the tapes across his tummy, sealing the diaper nice and snug and tight. “Call me daddy.”
	“What?”
	I walked around in front of him, my arms folded across my chest. He stared at me, too scared to try and struggle, not that it would do any good. I lifted my paw and he flinched, as he always did whenever I made a sudden move around him. In my paw was a pink pacifier patterned with pretty little hearts.
	“Do you know what this is?”
	He hesitated. He flexed his paws, slender arms fighting the straps for a moment. “N-no…”
	“Yes you do. What is it?”
	“It’s a...pacifier.”
	“Wrong!” I laughed, and he cringed. I edged the bulbous teat of the pacifier towards his quivering lips. “It’s a magic token.”
	“W-what?”
	“Don’t you see the way it glows?”
	He shook his head, but didn’t take his eyes off it. And his denial was...hesitant. “N-no?”
	“I think you do. A magical pacifier, just for you. And do you know what it does?”
	“No…” His voice cracked. His eyes started to well with tears. “Let me go, please...I don’t like this.”
	“It will make you a good little baby for daddy,” I said, ignoring him. The teat was almost at his lips now. I saw him catch his lower lip with his teeth, leaning his head away from it. “When you suckle it, you’ll start to feel relaxed. You’ll feel really comfortable and warm and happy. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
	“Mmmph!” He shook his head, eyes pleading.
	“Trust me!” I grinned. How could he trust me? I knew full well he couldn’t. So, as the rubber touched his lips, I gave his tummy a quick prod that made him yelp ticklishly, and the moment his mouth opened I stuffed the pacifier in deep, and at that moment he got to feel the true size of it; this wasn’t some store-bought pacifier. It was made specially, sized for big babies just like him.
	“Mmmh!”
	“Don’t spit it out. If you do...that would be bad.”
	A small whine died in his throat. The plastic cap of the pacifier bobbed, just once...a little suckle. Perfect.
	“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” I said, using the well-practiced soothing voice that my dad had taught me, the one that crept into his vulnerable mind and made him doubt himself...made him believe what I was saying. And when the mind believed something, the body would follow.
	“Good girl...just relax...close your eyes...suckle your pacifier...relax...everything is good...everything is happy and lovely.”
	Slowly at first, the pacifier bobbed again. Then a little faster, building a rhythm. I saw his shoulders relax, and watched as his eyes fluttered closed.
	“Good girl…”
	And it worked, as I knew and hoped it would. He mewled like a kitten when I stroked his cheek, and he leaned his head into my touch.
	“Are you hungry, little one?”
	“Hmm?”
	His eyes blinked open and his nose twitched. He was suddenly alert and scared again, staring at the white bundle I laid down onto the high chair’s tray. He jolted back in the seat as I opened it, revealing the sloppy brown stain of the soiled diaper I had retrieved from the collection of my father’s cast offs. From which of his little playmates I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that it was fresh, and it was stinky, and it would taste horrible.
	“Num nums time!” I said.
	He stared at me, eyes wide, body shaking, head turning from side to side, an announcement of disbelieving rejection. I grinned and nodded, as if to say oh yes...it’s exactly what you think it is, and it’s going to happen.
	I slid a chair over for myself and sat down in front of him. I showed him the little plastic spoon and looked him in the eye.
	“You are going to eat this,” I said, dipping the spoon into the diaper’s contents and stirring it. His eyes followed it, watching how the runny, milk-fed scat sloshed around, filling the bowl of the spoon, lifting up as I brought the spoon up towards his muzzle and, at the same time, reached to slide the pacifier from his mouth. “Every last drop of it.”
	“No,” he whispered, lip trembling. “Please daddy…”
	“Open wide…”
	I had expected a struggle. This was, perhaps, my first clue of what what I would find out later. He had called me daddy so easily, and when I lifted the dripping spoon to his lips, they parted for me with a weak gasp, his nose crinkled up in disgust, his eyes clenching shut, but his head still and unresisting. I thought at first that he knew struggling would be useless. But as the spoon passed into his mouth and his lips closed over the stem, and as his tongue lapped the disgusting slop down into his throat, I realised that something else was going on here. I leaned down and felt for his crotch, squeezing my fingers through his diaper, finding his erection beneath.
	“Oh, does my little girl like her num nums?” I said, teasing and elated. The only answer I got was a muffled whimper and an expression of abject shame, and a readily opened mouth for the next spoonful.
	“Please,” he gasped, the stink of shit on his breath. “Please stop…”
	“Why should I stop?” I kneaded my paw, massaging his cock through the diaper. “You seem to really like this. What’s wrong with you, hmm?”
	“N-nothing…” He avoided my gaze, tears welling. I lifted another glistening, stinking spoonful to his lips and he slurped it off the spoon. His cock surged under my paw. I watched his skinny little chest rise and fall in rapid pants. “Please...ah...s-stop!”
	“Stop what, hmm?” I touched the spoon to his lips, a little off course, smearing them with shit that dribbled down into the fur of his chin. He turned his head to meet it and licked the spoon clean, then licked his lips. A shudder passed through his body. The taste...I couldn’t imagine what it must have tasted like. Like sour milk, perhaps? I watched and waited for him to gag, for him to spew all over the diaper. But it didn’t happen. He just shuddered with tears in his eyes and a sickly look on his face and an open, eager mouth for the next spoonful.
	“S-stop!” he cried, just as I placed another spoonful to his lips. His breath blew droplets of the muck onto my arm, and his head fell forward to his chest. I felt his cock throb through the padding, and I wondered…
	...he had! The little spark mouse sat limp and panting in the chair, flushed and hot, and my probing check down into his diaper felt sticky liquid all over his little cock.
	“Well well!” I said, struggling to think of what to say. It was a genuine surprise. I lifted my paw to his mouth, his own cum stringing from between my fingers. “Lick!”
	With only a pitiful whimper, he did just that, his pink little tongue probing through my fur, lapping up his own cum and gulping it down.
	“Naughty little girl,” I said. “We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”
	He nodded, eyes closed, blushing furiously.
	“Making a sticky mess in the nice clean diaper daddy gave to you. Tut!”
	“I’m sorry daddy,” he whispered. His eyes opened, shiny and bright and lovable. I struggled to stay stern, I really did. This wasn’t going as I expected it at all? How did dad manage it all the time?
	“I’m sorry,” he said again, eyes flitting nervously to the diaper on the feeding tray. “F-for...being a naughty girl.”
	“So you should be,” I said, mostly without thinking, failing now that things were so far from my expected script. I refilled the spoon, scraping it hard against the soggy diaper. “Open wide!”
	He did so without hesitation, pink tongue and pearly white teeth. I tipped the contents of the spoon onto them, watched as it sloshed in his mouth until he closed his lips and gulped it all down. I felt almost like gagging myself, seeing him swallow it all so willingly. And in a daze I fed him the rest of the diaper, until it had nothing more than a wet stain in the cottony padding. I reached for his crotch again, finding him already hard again. With a growl, I gave it a hard squeeze, pressing my claws through the fabric, hearing him yelp and beg.
	“Ah! Daddy, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
	I slid the pacifier back into his mouth and watched him relax instantly. The placebo effect, stronger than any magic, a strong suggestion working wonders on a weak and willing mind.
	I thought, then, that I might have to adjust my plans a little...

I hadn’t intended to let him come back out into the world, but our talk the following morning changed that. He clung to me, weeping like a baby, telling me how happy he was. It all came spilling out, his desires and his needs: he had dreamed of this, year after year, just hoping that he would find this life, but never knowing how to make it happen. It turned out he needed me, or someone like me, to come along. I was stunned, and I knew my father would never approve. But…
	He went back home with a few gifts; a nice thick diaper, far bulkier and more obvious than his own supply, with a big plug underneath it, stretching him wide around its thick base, making him squirm in his seat as I drove him home (oh how he squealed when I pushed it into him...he begged me to stop, tears in his eyes, his body fighting the high chair’s restraints...but as soon as the widest part popped into him he had groaned like a porn star slut), and something else that all baby girls need to keep them behaved; a chastity device, made of silicone and colored a beautiful baby pink. It would keep him well-behaved. It would keep him needy. I reached across to him as I drove and squeezed the his crotch, through the jeans that barely contained the diaper, through the thick padding, to feel the hint of the hard bump of the padlock keeping him secure and mine.
	And then the last gift, the one that broadcast what he was for everyone to see. I think it was this that made him blush most of all. The pink bow, tied into his hair, a girly addition to his already girly attire. It made me smile to see it, knowing that his family and friends would see it and question it and bring forth the answer that I made him practice; “it makes me feel pretty.”
	He was back on my arm again at school. I saw and heard the whispered conversations and hidden laughter as we walked through the hallways. I knew it was all directed at him. What a sissy! They could see his diaper bulge. They could see the bow. Perhaps they could see the awkward way he walked, struggling to cope with the plug that pressed against his prostate with every step, forcing him to leak precum into his diaper? I hoped they could.
	He returned home with me, ever so willing. I had found him waiting outside the school, his arms clutched around himself, the hood of his hoodie down, proudly showing off the pink bow that marked him as my little girl, although he wore an adorable expression of embarrassment. I saw how bulky the diaper looked through his jeans, swollen with a day’s worth of pee, and I saw how he squirmed from foot to foot.
	“I need to go potty,” he said as he climbed into the car. He felt down between his legs, pawing uselessly at his rear, where the plug kept him sealed up.
	“I bet you do,” I said, taking us off down the road. “Do you need daddy to take your plug out?”
	He looked over at me with the expression that I would grow to love; that adorable mix of shame and excitement. “Y-yes please daddy.”
	“And then afterwards, you can have num nums. Nice and fresh!”
	He whined and fidgeted in his seat, his paw moving up to his crotch, to press at the spot where his hidden cock was fighting the confines of the chastity. I reached over and slapped his paw. “Naughty.”
	“S-sorry!”
	“I got you a present today,” I said. “I got it at lunch, from the store down the street.”
	“Oh?” His eyes wide, filled with wonder. I figured I must have had a heart, because it felt painfully happy just then.
	“Yup!” I half turned in my seat, one eye on the road, while I fished behind me to reach the passenger seats. I passed his gift over, and heard him squeal in delight. A pikachu plushie, cute and adorable and…
	“Daddy it’s so cute!”
	“I’m sorry it’s not the same color as you,” I said. “But it’s got…”
	“A pink bow just like mine!” I looked over to see him hugging it tightly, smushing it close against his chest, nuzzling it with his muzzle, eyes scrunched closed on teary eyes. “I love it.”
	“I thought you might. Hey!” He had lurched across, trying to hug me while I was driving! I settled the car back into the lane and tapped his nose. “Careful.”
	“Sorry daddy.” He started to giggle. I hadn’t heard him laugh, not in all the time I had him as my “boyfriend” at school. But now, as my baby girl, he was happy.
	Well...I would need to explain to my dad how this one wasn’t going to be staying in the basement. I was sure he would understand.