Virtual Reality
I'm starting by re-uploading all the content that had to be removed from Patreon. This is, quite possibly, the most unfair story I've ever written, and CW for claustrophobia and general extreme BDSM. 

Angela blushed, looking down at her blouse. “I have to-” 

Leslie smirked, tapping their clipboard. “Well, yeah. It’s completely immersive. Did you think you’d just sit down and put on a headset?” 

To be honest, Angela didn’t have any expectations at all. She wasn’t much into the Virtual Reality scene, she was just doing this as a favor for a… well, not a friend, exactly. And not a favor. More like ‘recompense’ for past troubles. 

That was, hopefully, all behind them. Leslie had asked for a favor testing their new VR pod, and Angela was more than happy to assist them. 

The pod itself looked like… a prototype. That was putting it charitably. Leslie had apparently started with a plain box slightly larger than a coffin, then built the internal workings themselves. All that Angela could see was the plasticy interior that would separate her from the electronics and sensory input, with a clear visor area where her face would go. 

She had to admit, it was a little intimidating, but Leslie had assured her that, once she was inside, it’d feel just like walking around in the real world. 

“So…” she looked down at herself. “Just the blouse, then?” 

“It’s a prototype,” Leslie explained. “A few features are still in progress. For now, you’ll need to strip out of everything.” When Angela still looked hesitant, they added, “Hey, it’s not like I’ve never seen your naked ass before. At least this time-” 

“Fine.” Angela didn’t want to get into that argument again. Kicking off her shoes seemed like the most modest way to start, and Leslie at least gave her the pretense of modesty by pretending to fiddle with their phone while she pulled off her blouse, shrugged out of her jean shorts, and finally lingered over her panties and bra before slipping out of them as well. “Now what? I just… get in?” 

“Not quite.” Leslie smirked. “This is an eight hour test, to ensure that the long-term user experience is comfortable and safe. I’ll be monitoring you remotely, of course, but… well, we haven’t implemented the waste reclamation features yet.” 

Angela tilted her head, frowning. “Is this dangerous? I feel like-” 

“You’ll have an emergency release button at hand,” Leslie assured her, quickly. “If it feels like it’s too much, you can just press a button and you’ll be let out.” 

“Okay. So, without waste reclamation…” Angela trailed off, thinking about what that could mean. “Oh.” 

Leslie smirked, pointing to a metal filing cabinet by the wall. “In there, I assume you can probably put them on yourself.” 

Walking to the cabinet, Angela checked its interior, and sure enough… “These seem a little… big.” She picked up one of the diapers, unfolding it. 

She wasn’t super familiar with how adult diapers looked, but she’d expected the padding to be on par with a scaled up baby diaper. This material looked far thicker, like what she’d expect from three, maybe four diapers layered on top of one another.

Leslie shrugged. “I got a premium brand so you don’t leak on the electronics. Trust me, once you’re in the pod, you won’t feel it anyways.” 

That was fair enough. Angela was willing to trust them on that, and if it turned out not to be true, she’d have the panic button on hand. 

Propping herself up against the wall, Angela held the diaper between her legs, fiddling with the tapes. She managed to get one down, though it was a little crooked, and-

“You’re terrible at that,” Leslie ‘tssked’. Walking over, they took charge, adjusting the diaper and pulling the remaining five tapes snugly in place, and re-sticking the last one. 

Angela felt like she had a pillow strapped securely between her legs. It’d stop leaks, for sure. She idly thought it might even stop a smallish river, or a large creek. 

“Anything else?” she asked, covering her bare chest with her arms. “You’re not going to tell me that I need to put in a pacifier or something for the pod to work?” 

Leslie rolled their eyes. “Nope. Just climb in, lay down, and keep your mouth open when the pod closes so that the water hose gets between your lips. Eight hours is a long time, and you don’t want to end up dehydrated.” 

“Fair, I guess…” Angela looked at the black interior of the pod, still feeling hesitant. “And you’re sure that it’ll just feel like the real world?” 

At that, Leslie almost seemed offended. “You’re not the first person that’s tested my system, Angel. I just need to do an incremental time test. Everything will be fine, and even if it isn’t, you’ll have the panic button. Trust me. There’s nothing that can go wrong here. You’re not gonna back out and screw me on this, are you? Because-” 

“No!” Angela threw up her hands. “Fine, I’m getting in. Sue me for being cautious, I guess.” 

Putting her hands on the side of the rough-looking VR pod, Angela hopped up, legs splaying slightly on account of all the padding forcing them apart. Orienting her body with the pods smooth, latex interior, she laid down her head, spread out her arms and legs, and opened her mouth. 

“Good?” 

Leslie looked down at her, nodding. “Perfect. Now, just hold still. It’ll take just a minute or so for things to boot up, so be patient.” 

They reached up, took the top of the pod, and pulled it down. Angela was surprised as she felt the water tube insert into her mouth - she’d expected a small little hose, like a straw, but it was more than an inch around and long enough to go halfway down her throat. 

She heard a little ‘click’ as the pod was latched shut. 

Then, she couldn’t hear anything at all. Or see anything, for that matter. The latex on her skin felt a little sticky and warm, but that would presumably go away as soon as the VR started and the simulated atmosphere effects kicked in. 

She couldn’t move at all. In her left hand, she felt a little button, and she could press down on it if she wanted to, but the rest of her body was totally immobile. 

Okay, Leslie. Any time now. This isn’t exactly comfortable. 

Angela would have shifted uncomfortably, but she couldn’t really shift around at all. 

To pass the time, she counted off seconds in her head. Leslie had said it would only take a minute to get things booted up, so Angela counted backwards from sixty. 

Fifty nine. Fifty eight. Fifty seven... 

She wondered if Leslie was saying anything, and she just couldn’t hear it through the pod. 

It occurred to her that she didn’t know how Leslie was controlling the simulation, or even what sim she’d be inside. 

… three… two… one… zero… 

Nothing had happened yet. Leslie must have been talking out of their ass when they said ‘just a minute’, exaggerating to put her at ease. So, she kept counting. 

… minus a hundred. Minus a hundred and one. What the hell is taking them so long? 

She gave up counting. Clearly, something was wrong. She pressed the panic button. 

Nothing happened. 

Angela pressed it again. When she got no response, she held it down, counting off ten seconds, then started hammering it rapidly. 

Nothing at all. So far as she could tell, the pod didn’t respond in any way, and neither did Leslie. 

She tried to move, pressing against the latex material that kept her pressed down, but it was too tight, and she had no leverage. It was like trying to move while buried alive. 

Don’t panic. Leslie will get you out of here, any moment. It just takes them a moment to see the alert, I’m sure. 

She tried waiting. Nothing happened. 

Angela started to panic. 

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t see, or hear, and the only sensations she could feel was the pressure of the hose pressing into her throat, making her choke when she tried to move her mouth. 

‘Thrashing’ was hardly a descriptor for what she did. She tried to thrash, tensing her muscles and pushing against the latex, but it made absolutely no difference. 

She screamed, but it was so muffled that she could barely hear it in her own ears. 

Did Leslie get hurt? Are they in trouble? Why is nobody- 

Finally, she felt something. A system in the pod came to life. 

It was little reprieve. A cold trickle of something - definitely not water - started to dribble into her mouth. It was thick, and a little chalky, and had a bitter, vegetable taste to it. If she had to place it, the flavor reminded her most of mashed peas, but more artificial, and with something else mixed in. 

She had no choice but to choke it down. The sludge kept flowing, and if she didn’t swallow it all, she would be choked. 

Angela didn’t know how long it lasted. Maybe a minute. Maybe half an hour. She was having trouble telling time. Either way, by the time the mush ceased to creep down her throat, her belly felt intensely full, the sort of full that only came with continuing to eat well after even the barest common sense said to stop. 

In the absence of other sensations, it was all she could focus on, as the intense fullness slowly resolved itself, her body digesting and managing the food, and…

She felt a gurgle in her belly. Nothing intense, just a little pressure, but it had come out of nowhere. She had used the bathroom before all this. There was no reason for her… 

The faint residual chalkiness on her lips came to mind. Medicine, or drugs. Something was mixed in her food, and whatever it was, it was making her body churn to expel it. 

Time passed. Angela wasn’t sure if the drugs in her body were really so fast acting, or if her perception was just that unsound, but she could feel the pressure building inside her quickly. There was nothing she could do, except to clench and fight and wish that she could close her legs or ball her fists. 

In the end, the pressure won. It wasn’t even close. She lost the ability, or maybe just the will, to keep holding it, and a tidal wave of muck spilled out into her diaper. With little room to spread out, it was pressed into her cheeks and up between her legs, smearing around under the weight of her body and the confining pressure of the pod. 

She wriggled, and realized only then that, though the pod was a tight, closed system, the air she was breathing was being circulated inside the pod. If it had been coming from an outside source, she wouldn’t have been able to smell the sudden stench that was radiating off from her still-filling padding. As it was, the overwhelming odor of a very dirty diaper was added to her extremely limited repertoire of sensory inputs. The tube gagging her throat, the mush squelching between her legs, and now the smell filling her nostrils. 

It wasn’t all foul. A subtle hint of baby powder and plastic was mixed in, but the overwhelming majority was from the stinky mess stewing in her diaper. 

Minutes passed, and she gave up on taking shallow breaths. There was no avoiding the smell, except to desensitize herself to it. 

And then, finally, the other parts of the pod came alive. 

Lights flashed in her eyes, and the visor proved not to be a high-definition virtual reality display, but a simple LED like you’d find on an alarm clock. Words flashed in rapid succession, moving back and forth between ‘SLUT’ and ‘BABY’, the words filling her vision. 

SLUT

Vibration suddenly kicked in, with a whirring buzz that she could just barely hear, making the front of her padding suddenly begin to thrumm. She was the opposite of aroused, but it came at her with a delicate balance of force and speed, working up and then dropping, teasing her, making the vibration impossible to forget or ignore. It was one of the few sensations she could feel, and the only pleasant one, and she was quickly dripping wet in spite of everything else. 

BABY 

Another force, creating suction around her breasts, gently pulling at her nipples. It built, and then released, and then built again, in time with the vibration. 

SLUT

The hose in her mouth began to move, and only now could she feel the texture to it. It retracted and then thrust its way into her throat, and then retracted, and thrust, building in speed slowly as it fucked her mouth with greater and greater intensity

BABY

Sound began to play. A loud mix of moans, and whimpers, and whispered words echoed in her ears. In time with the LED display, a quiet voice reinforced what was being said, over the sounds of sex and pleasure. 

“SLUT.” 

She couldn’t moan herself, even as the rhythm of the vibration picked up, pressing harder, making her whole body tremble with sensation. It wasn’t pleasure, there was nothing pleasurable about this, but the burning arousal couldn’t be ignored. Panting, she inhaled deeply, acutely aware of the stench of her diaper and the pinpoints of sensation up and down her body.

“BABY.” 

The thrusting in her mouth grew faster, pushing deeper, until- 

“SLUT.” 

She screamed again as the orgasm was ripped out of her, and in the same moment, the hose in her mouth stopped thrusting and quivered, more of the foul-tasting sludge suddenly rushing into her mouth. She had to swallow as it spurted, trying to keep from choking as the slime went down her throat, making her cheeks puff out with the volume. 

“BABY.” 

The vibration against her sex didn’t cease, and the suction on her breasts only increased, as she squirted into the diaper, fluids getting absorbed by the thirsty, incredibly thick padding. She quivered, her whole body shaking as she choked down the last of the sludge. Seconds passed. Maybe minutes. Words and sounds flashed in her mind, whether her eyes were open or closed. 

Finally, the vibration stopped. With it, the suction, the flashing words, the sounds, all went away. 

She was left alone, without sensation, save for the smell of her diaper, now a little sweatier, and with a tinge of sex to highlight the overpowering stink of her mess. 

Her own panting was the only sound she could hear. A thin trickle of water started to pour into her mouth, a genuine relief. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was. 

In her belly, there was a little gurgle as the drugs from the recent round of sludge started to do their work. She didn’t even try to fight it this time, pushing out more smelly mush into her diaper just so the cramping wouldn’t last as long. 

Time passed. How long, she couldn’t tell. Before she was hungry again, though, she felt sudden, unexpected vibrations begin to build. 

“BABY.” 

The suction resumed. The thrusting down her throat returned. 

“SLUT.” 

The orgasm torture resumed. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought it lasted longer this time, teasing her, fucking her mouth, making things go on for minutes more than it had the last time. 

And then it ended again. She wet her diaper when she had to pee. As the drugs churned in her belly, she added to the growing mess. She took deep breaths, trying to stay calm, not even trying to ignore the stench anymore. 

Time passed. The process repeated, and this time she was sure it was longer than before. By the time her orgasm came, she was pleading with the device to give her release. 

The cycle repeated. 

Longer, again. 

Her diaper grew so full that she could feel its weight, even inside the enclosed machine. She couldn’t remember what fresh air smelled like. 

She was exhausted. 

The process repeated. 

The process repeated.

The process repeated.