I am refusing to use the normal warning for this because in reality I know little of the BDSM world, and know very little of infantilism, and I don't want to offend those who are members of the BDSM world. In this story there will be items and scenes taken from BDSM and infantilism in particular but are used (probably) completely wrong, and in non-consensual ways. Therefore I hesitate to call infantilism and BDSM, and would prefer to call non-consensual sexual torture and humiliation. It better defines what is going on in this story.

Now for those of you who haven't hit the back button and are willing to read this story either because you are intrigued, your back button doesn't work, or because you are not afraid to read my stuff, this story is as complete as it going to get. I hope that the above warning was enough to keep those who will be offended from continuing on(SH run! Run for your life!!!), but if you didn't get it before here's your last chance. Get out now before you are completely sucked into the demented world that is my brain. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Jim Ellison stood in front of the large glass window of the Cascade International Airport and watched with sentinel sight as the plane that held his guide lifted off. Naomi Sandburg, Blair mother, had called him up not a few days before informing him of a mutual friend's wedding to which they had been invited. Thanks to the upcoming trial, Jim had been unable to pack up and go with Blair as his 'guest', and had only wished Blair a safe flight, and to be sure and kiss the bride for him. Even knowing that he would be riding a desk the entire week Blair was gone for the time that he wasn't testifying in a closed courtroom, Jim was happy that Blair was going. The kid was starting to look ragged from the multitude of strange cases, violence, and blood that were quickly becoming a part of the young observer’s world, and his sentinel felt that some time away with his mother would help Blair more than hanging out with his sentinel ever could.

When finally the plane was beyond even sentinel sight, Jim sighed and turned from the window to leave the airport. It was Monday, and Jim had to testify in the trial on Thurs. It was an old case from his Vice days just finally coming to trial since the defendant who had had an arrest warrant on his for a few years had been captured in New York, and after months of paperwork had finally been extradited to Cascade. The list of charges from Cascade were higher than what New York had wanted him for, and the judge finally agreed to have Allen Boyd extradited to Cascade to face the charges of Aggravated Kidnapping, Murder in the first degree on three separate counts, and running a prostitution ring. Thanks to months of undercover work by Detective Ellison, the case against Allen Boyd was airtight.

When Jim reached the loft, the first thing he did was pick up the phone and call Simon. He didn't want to spend the entire week on desk duty, and decided to use some of the vacation time he had coming to him. Simon was not all disappointed that Jim wanted the vacation time. The captain was not looking forward to having a Sandburgless Jim caged in the bullpen with his fellow officers. It could easily get messy.

After talking to Simon and getting the week off except for the trial, Jim went upstairs to pack deciding that a little camping for a few days would be nice when he heard someone coming to the door. Sighing, Jim went back down the stairs to answer the door. He could smell flowers and decided that someone was sending Blair yet another flower arrangement as a thank you for yet another night of passion Sandburg style.

Not even bother to look through the peephole, Jim opened the door and realized too late that the scent of flowers had overridden the scent of gun oil. Too late since the barrel of a .45 Glock was pointed right at his face. Two more guns, a 9mm Berretta and a .357 S&W semi-automatic joined the Glock in herding Jim back into the loft. The sentinel kept his hands up as three men entered the loft. Jim recognized them as some of Boyd’s henchmen, but couldn’t recall their names. The man with the Glock had also been carrying a rather lovely arrangement of roses and Baby’s Breath, which he strangely enough sat down gently on the table by the door next to the basket Jim used to keep his keys in.

“Good boy, Jimmy, now turn around and put your hands behind your head.” The Glock man said, and Jim bristling at the name and tone did as he was told. The Berretta was stowed in a holster under an arm, and the man wearing the gun came forward and used a pair of handcuffs to restrain Jim’s wrist behind his back. Once Jim wrists were restrained, the man then did a thorough pat search finding Jim’s handcuff key and handcuffs along with the P226 Jim kept in the holster on his ankle. His P228 was sitting on the counter in the kitchen.

Glock man came forward and took the P226 and efficiently removed the magazine and racked the slide popping the round in the chamber out. He then looks the weapon over. “Nice.” He said. “I think I’ll keep it.” And with that he tucked the weapon in the back of his pants then grabbed Jim by the back of his shirt collar. “I think you know why we are here, don’t you Jimmy.” The man said as he pushed Jim up the stairs into the sentinel’s bedroom.

“You’re boss put you up to this.” It was not a question.

“Of course. Can’t have my money ticket going to prison can I. Where would I be?” The man laughed and pushed Jim between his shoulder blades. Unable to stop himself since his hands were cuffed behind his back, Jim fell forward onto his bed bouncing slightly.

The man looked around the room, “Well I see our informant’s correct you did take some vacation time. Good, they won’t be expecting you back until Thursday, gives us plenty of time.”

Jim cursed silently wondering who the informant was at the PD since he had just barely called Simon about the vacation.

“Time for what?” Jim asked though he was afraid to find out.

“To get you ready for the buyer. You won’t believe how much you can get for a cop. You’re bringing in quite a bit.”

Jim shook inside at the thought. The only kinds of buyers that Boyd had lined up were only into buying sex slaves.

“Rueben, Callen, get up here.” The man said and the two others strode up the stairs casually. “Yeah, Kris?” The man with the .357 said.

“Informant’s info was correct. We gonna have a few days here with Ellison. See if you can’t scrounge us up something to eat, Callen. Rueben, go down to the truck and get the supplies.”

“Sure no problem, Kris.” Callen said heading back downstairs putting his .357 in the holster on his hip. Rueben looked at Jim with a predatory smile on the man’s lips that made Jim shudder inside, then placed followed Callen downstairs.

Kris stayed in the room, and went through Jim’s stuff casually. “Nothing here worth stealing. These medals would be too easy to trace. Hmm this is nice.” The man hefted Jim’s K-Bar, and then tucked it back into its sheath. He tied the sheath to his ankle, and then went back to digging through Jim’s stuff.

“Too bad your roommate’s not here, Ellison. He would have made us a quite a lot of money with his virgin ass.”

Jim growled at that then jumped in surprise when Kris’s hand whapped him on the butt. “None of that Ellison. You’re going to be a good boy, or you aein’t gonna like the consequences.”

A few minutes later Rueben was coming up the stairs carrying a large overstuffed duffel bag, and another leather bag over his shoulder. The first thing he did was pull out a video camera and a tripod stand which he set up in the room the camera pointed at the bed. Downstairs, Jim could smell that Callen had made himself at home in Jim’s kitchen and was cooking up what smelled like a delicious spaghetti sauce.

“Alright, Jimmy. Rueben here is going to strip you, and you are going to cooperate cause I got my gun pointed right at you.” Kris said. “And if you force me to kill you, Ellison, we’ll wait around for your roommate and take him instead. Got that Jimmy boy.”

The threat to himself was nothing, but the threat to his guide stilled his reactions as Rueben uncuffed his hands, recuffed them through the bars of the railing, then began to methodically to strip Jim of his clothes, starting with his shoes and socks, and ending with Jim’s boxers. The shirt has been cut off since they had not removed the cuffs. When Rueben was done, Jim lay on his back on the bed, naked exposed to the two men who leered at Jim but did not fondle him. Instead, Rueben searched through the bag and came up with an unopened box of adult diapers. Jim looked at the men with murder in his eyes, but the threat to Blair was repeated, and Jim did nothing as Rueben took out of the duffel bag some baby powder, baby wipes, baby oil, and placed them on the dresser beside the bed. He didn’t fight them when Rueben expertly sprinkled powder on Jim’s genitals, lifted his legs and sprinkled more powder on his butt, then placed the diaper beneath him, brought it up and around and used the sticky tabs to close them around him. Jim knew that Rueben probably did this for several of the scenes that Boyd had filmed for several illegal porn films that normally involved underage kids. Boyd’s films were heavy into BDSM type scenes, and infantilism was a big money maker when using underage stars.

Jim tried to breath normally, tried not to feel too sick by the thoughts that skittered through his head. The last thing he wanted was for them to clean him up after he vomited. Bad enough that he knew they planned to clean him up when he finally couldn’t hold it any longer.

When Reuben was done, Kris nodded in satisfaction. “Good job, as usual, Reuben.” Kris picked up a blanket and covered Jim up to his chest with it. “There you go, don’t need little Jimmy to get cold.” Kris laughed at that, and Jim’s blue eyes bore into the man’s head. Kris and Rueben then went downstairs. Jim followed them with his hearing listening as they entered the kitchen and murmured about how good Callen’s cooking was. He then glared at the camera before he turned his head hoping to ignore its presence.

Downstairs, Rueben was pulling out a pan and filling it with water, while Callen stirred his spaghetti sauce. “Can you believe this place? They have ostrich meat in the fridge. I found a recipe for ostrich meat chili. It sounds good; I may have to try it sometime. I can’t believe a cop lives here. I thought they survived off donuts and coffee.”

“Probably the roommate. He looks like some kind of hippy. Probably a damn good cook, no wonder Ellison keeps him around.” Kris said as he took a sip of the spaghetti sauce.

“How long do you think Ellison will hold out?” Callen asked.

Kris shrugged, “Who knows, but if we have to will speed things up a bit.” He looked over at Rueben who had placed the three bottles and the nipples and lids into the water and was turning on the heat beneath the pan. “You did bring the laxatives, right?”

“You betcha. If you want I can add some to his milk.”

“If he hasn’t by the next feeding time, then you can.”

When the bottles were sterilized to Rueben’s specifications, he took each one out and placed them on a dishtowel on the countertop. While he did that, Callen mixed the spaghetti with the sauce, and began to stir, then checked on the breadsticks he had baking in the oven.

Rueben used Enfamil, mixed with a protein/vitamin power along with some milk to fill the baby bottles. Each bottle held 16 oz, and all three were made up. He had warmed the fluid up, and tested it against his arm.

“Dinner is ready.” Callen announced.

“Good, I’ll be done in half a sec, don’t eat all of it.” Rueben said as he went back upstairs.

Jim watched as Rueben came back upstairs, and bit back an angry growl at the sight of the baby bottle.

“Turn on your side, Jimmy.” Rueben said. When Jim didn’t move, Rueben smacked the side of his hip, and said, “Don’t want your roommate in this position do ya, Jimmy?”

At the threat to Blair, Jim did as he was told. Using a pillow and a towel, Rueben was able to prop up the bottle so that Jim could suckle from it without using his hands. “That bottle better be finished when I come back up, Jimmy.” Rueben warned.

Jim followed Rueben with his sight and his ears as the man went downstairs. As he listened his drank the milk concoction wondering how much he could get away with before they followed through on their threat to Blair. Not for the first time, Jim was glad Blair had gone to the wedding.

Downstairs, Jim’s captors set down in front of the TV on the couch with their heaping plates of spaghetti, and breadsticks along with their beer. Kris turned on the Jags game, and the men ate and watched the game.

When Jim finished the bottle, he nudged it away from him with his lips, and then rolled onto his back. He cursed silently when he felt the first urges in his bladder. He didn’t want to give in and relieve himself into the diaper, but he didn’t want to be dosed with a laxative either.

When Reuben came back up, Jim turned his head to look at him. When Rueben found the empty bottle he praised Jim making the sentinel feel even more sickened by his position. Rueben removed the blanket, then ran a finger beneath the diaper in between Jim’s legs. “Still dry. But that won’t last.” Reuben said as he replaced the blanket. Rueben took the empty bottle, and then went downstairs leaving Jim with only the camera that recorded his every move.

Sometime later the pressure on his bladder started to get too intense. Jim tried to ignore it, but it continued to get worse, not better. He could hear them downstairs still watching the Jags game, no doubt making a mess. He didn’t know when he was to be fed again, but he knew that if his diaper was still dry that he would dose him with a laxative.

Finally the pressure became too much, and Jim gritted his teeth as he let go. The diaper was well absorbent, but Jim still felt the warmth of the urine, and it made him sick. Trying his best not to cry, and cursing himself for a weak willed coward for even thinking of crying, Jim closed his eyes and tried not to think too much.

When Rueben came up with Kris behind him, Jim opened his eyes to watch their movements. While Kris checked the camera, Reuben removed the blanket.

“He’s wet.” Reuben said with a grin to Kris. Jim’s heart fell into his stomach at that smile.

“Good boy, Jimmy.” Kris praised the same smile on his face.

“You wanna do it the first time, Kris?” Reuben asked.

“You bet.” Kris said as he walked over to the bed stripping out of his clothes as he did until he stood naked before the bed, his uncut dick already half hard. Kris took the baby wipes off the dresser, and peeled the tabs on the diaper. Efficiently, Kris removed the diaper, and wadded it up placing it in the plastic bag that Rueben held out to him. Kris used a few baby wipes to clean Jim’s genitals and bottom, lifting the sentinel’s legs when needed. As he cleaned Jim, his dick grew bigger and bigger, precum leaking from the uncut head. He then placed the used baby wipes into the trash bag. Then, Kris retrieved the oil, and Jim knew what was coming next having seen it on some of Boyd’s porn films. Ellison’s stomach tightened, and he mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen.

Kris squeezed some of the baby oil onto his hand, and then turned Jim on his side. At the first touch of well oiled fingers against his hole, Jim gritted his teeth.

“Easy, Jimmy. You’re too tight. Don’t wanna tear, do ya.” Kris said as he massaged the tight asshole with one oiled finger, his other hand rubbing soothingly on Jim’s stomach. The finger breached Jim’s body, and slowly massaged the inner walls. Kris took his time; making sure Jim’s ass was sufficiently loosened before adding more fingers. He used plenty of oil as well. When all three fingers were able to move around easily in Jim’s ass, Kris turned Jim onto his stomach, and lifted Jim until his knees touched the bed. Jim gripped the top of the railing for leverage, his body shaking with fear, on the verge of breaking down. During the preparation, Kris would repeat the threat to Blair saying he wished he could have some of the anthropologist’s virgin ass any time Jim looked as if he would fight.

When he felt the head of the uncut cock against his asshole, Jim cried tears falling down his face. Inside he raged at himself for the tears, but that couldn’t stop them.

In one movement the cock pushed its way into Jim’s ass until he felt Kris’s ball against his ass cheeks. An oiled hand wrapped itself around Jim’s lax penis and began to rub it while he thrusted slowly into Jim’s ass. The cock brushed against his prostate causing pleasure, and between that and the strokes around his dick, Jim began to harden which only served to make him cry harder. He could hear Kris’ whispered encouragements telling him to cry, that he loved that, how tight Jim was.

The thrusts increased until Kris was pounding away into Jim’s ass all the while his hand stroked Jim’s hard cock. Finally, Jim’s body betrayed him and he came, his ass squeezing around Kris’s cock as the man continued to thrust until he came as well his cum covering the inside of Jim’s ass.

Kris held himself inside Jim for a few seconds while his dick turned lax. He slipped out, and patted Jim on the rear telling him he was a good boy, and that he had a sweet ass. Tears continued to fall down Jim’s face, as Kris lowered him to the bed and turned him onto his back. Baby wipes were used to clean the sentinel’s genitals, and ass, while Reuben stripped the cum stained sheets from the bed replacing them with clean sheets from the duffel bag. Kris placed a clean diaper around Jim after sprinkling baby powder on Ellison’s ass and genitals. They then left him to cry with only the camera as a witness.

Downstairs, Rueben grabbed Callen and pushed him over the back of the couch. Pulling the man’s pant’s down, Reuben unzipped his own jeans, and freed his erect cock. Driving his cock into Callen’s ass, Reuben set a hard fast pace with Callen groaning in pleasure beneath him. Callen used his own hand to bring his dick to erection and finally orgasm while Reuben climaxed inside Callen’s ass. Kris watched nude from the couch stroking his own dick. By the time Reuben climaxed, Kris’s dick was hard again. He reached over and grabbed Callen pulling the man over the couch and Callen straddled Kris’s hips then impaled himself on Kris’s hard length, and rode the man until Kris released his orgasm for the second time inside Callen’s ass.

The three of them cleaned up themselves and the Loft, then made pallets on the floor with their sleeping bags. Eventually all four men within the Loft fell into deep exhaustive sleep.

Tuesday dawned, and Kris was the one who checked on Jim waking the sentinel to check the diaper. Finding it dry, Kris went back downstairs to watch Callen fix breakfast and told Reuben to dose the bottle. Reuben nodded, and placed two laxatives inside the bottle that he had just reheated. Giving the bottle a shake, he made sure the laxatives were dissolved before he took it up to Jim. As the day before, Reuben had Jim lie on his side, and he used pillows to hold the bottle.

Jim knew that there were laxatives in the bottle, but he had no choice but to drink it. Reuben went downstairs and ate the breakfast that Callen had prepared.

Some hours later, the laxatives worked, and Jim could not hold it. He urinated and defecated, his stomach sick at what he had done. Reuben cleaned him up this time, and fucked him while he lay on his back his legs over Reuben’s shoulders. All of Jim’s tears were gone, and all he felt was a strange numbness inside as Reuben fucked him hard. When Reuben placed a clean diaper on him and left, Jim just lay on his back staring at the ceiling wondering if he should zone listening to the sounds of the men downstairs as they cleaned from breakfast.

He was startled out of his reverie when the phone rang. None of the men picked it up instead letting the answering machine get it. Jim listened to Blair’s voice.

“Hey Jim, I called the station and Simon said you took some vacation. Good, you need it. I was hoping I’d catch you before you headed out somewhere, but I guess I didn’t. I’ll see ya Saturday.” The click said Blair had hung up, and tears that he didn’t know he ha left streamed down his face. He wished he would see Blair Saturday, but Jim knew that before Thursday he would sold to some sick bastard and probably be transported out of the country. Please, don’t let them take Blair, Jim thought. He would endure anything he had to to keep Blair from joining him in his hell.

At lunch time, Jim received another bottle. This one did not have any laxatives in it, but Jim urinated again later in the day. Callen did not take his turn however, instead Kris fucked him again, Jim on his knees holding the railing that he was cuffed to. Afterwards Jim again heard the small orgy where Callen bottomed to both men. He knew that Callen wouldn’t take his turn since the man was too much of a bottom to be able to fuck Jim.

Dinner however was disastrous. All of Jim’s frustration was unleashed when Reuben brought the bottle up. Jim didn’t turn on his side like he was told, and instead managed to kick Reuben in the leg when the man came close. Reuben cursed grabbing his leg, and called for Kris.

Kris came up, and listened as Reuben told him what happened. Kris looked at Jim, “I’m going to punish you, Jimmy boy. You do what I say and we won’t take your roommate when he returns.”

The threat was real, and Jim knew it. He could hear it in Kris’s heartbeat. When Kris removed the diaper and told him to roll onto his stomach, Jim did so. Kris removed his belt from his jeans, and folded it in half. Each blow of the belt landed on Jim’s ass cheeks. Jim turned the dial on his sense of touch down, and gritted his teeth, but Kris continued to rain blows. Jim finally realized that Kris wasn’t going to stop until Jim cried out. But Jim was too stubborn to just give in to his tears again. Jim never cried out, until finally he slipped into unconsciousness the pain from his blistered ass spinning his dials out of control.

Blair was never sure what made him call Mrs. Whitmeyer, their next door neighbor. Ever since he had called and talked to Simon, something had nagged at him until finally he called the Loft even knowing that Simon had said that Jim was going to go camping. When he got the answering machine, the nagging feeling had increased until it made his heart pound with fear. But what Mrs. Whitmeyer had told him had turned that fear into terror.

“His truck’s still outside, Blair. And I’ve smelled cooking coming from his Loft. His friends sure are loud.”

He had hung up making some excuse to Mrs. Whitmeyer that he couldn’t remember. He then called Simon with a feeling of dread in his stomach.

At first Simon scoffed until Blair told him what Mrs. Whitmeyer had said about Jim’s friends. Even to Simon that didn’t sound right. Maybe Blair’s feeling had transferred to Simon, but Banks didn’t want to take chances, and sent Rafe and Henri to Jim’s place.

The red Blazer that was parked across the street from the Loft was suspicious enough to them that they ran the plates. They called Simon as soon as they found out that the Blazer was stolen.

Simon decided better safe than sorry especially with the Boyd trial coming up. The raid consisted of only Major Crimes detectives and officers. They burst into the Loft while the men were downstairs having dinner watching a movie. When those same men grabbed for guns at the words, “Freeze, Police,” Simon knew that Blair’s fears were real. The three men died under a hail of bullets.

Simon was the first up the stairs into Jim’s room. What he found would haunt him forever of that he was sure. He went immediately to the bed barely registering as Joel came up the stairs behind him.

The first thing Simon did was removed the dirty diaper around Jim’s unconscious body. The diaper was full of shit, urine and blood. Using his keys he released Jim’s hands. Joel turned off the camera.

“My God, what have they done to him, Simon.” Joel said in a shocked tone, heart heavy.

“I have a feeling that everything they did is on that tape.” Simon said nodding at the camera.

Joel ejected the tape. “This will kill him, Simon. We will lose him because of this.” Joel hefted the tape. There was no doubt what Joel was saying, and Simon nodded. Joel hid the tape in his coat to be burned later. He searched and found another tape labeled ‘Jimmy, Day One” and hid it as well. He then placed a blank tape inside the camera for the officers to find.

The medics came up into the room a few minutes later. Simon had done his best to clean Jim with the baby wipes, and wet towels. The paramedics took over and cleaned Jim up as well being as gentle as they could. Jim was then loaded up on the gurney and taken to Cascade Memorial Hospital.

Two hours later, Blair was picked up by Joel at the airport who told Blair everything they had found and what they had done. Blair cried all the way to the hospital.

Jim was placed in a private room after his wounds on his wrists and buttocks were bandaged, and the rape kit done. Blair seated himself beside the bed and refused to leave for any reason. No one tried very hard to do so. Blair sat beside Jim’s bed holding the detective’s hand as he stood watch over his sentinel as the man had done for him so many times before.