HITCHHIKER
                               ==========

Hitch-hiking is a way of traveling.  It is a way to meet people, and
have fun.  It can be a bitch sometimes though.  Hitching cross country
is usualy a blast, but sometimes difficult when you find yourself too
close to a city.  This was the case for Mark.  He'd made it from New
Orleans to the Atlanta area in a little over a day and 2 rides, and now
was having a hard time just getting through the metropolitan area.
People around the cities are usualy more hesitant to pick-up strangers,
and are going shorter distances anyway.

Mark's last ride had been only for two expressway exits, and now he
found himself at an exit where almost no cars got on the xway.  It is
usualy easier to get someone to stop on the on-ramp than on the
interstate itself, and in alot of places, the cops make trouble if
you're on the road itself.  But when you get stuck at a little used
exit, you have to choose between waiting forever, or risking the hassle
and going down to the main road.

The weather today sucked, and the afternoon was wearing on.  For this
reason Mark decided to take his chances on going down the ramp.  He
needed a ride that would get him clear of the city traffic.  Once at the
bottom, he stood in front of the 'Merging traffic' sign, his thumb stuck
out for the passing cars.  When anyone came driving down the ramp, he
stuck out his other thumb.  This stance always amused him, standing
there between 2 streams of traffic, his arms stretched out like Christ
on a crucifix.

He was typically tense standing there, watching the approaching traffic
with care.  His worry was of some nit wit choosing that spot to run off
the road.  He was ready to leap out of the way in that event. Also, he
rehearsed in his mind what he would say in the event that a cop should
chance that way and decide to harass him.  Sometimes when this occured
he was able to not only persuade them not to arrest him, but to take him
to a spot where the traffic would be more favorable.  Cops were people
too, and not all bad.  In his experience most were OK, but you never
knew.  Some amused themselves making trouble for kids.  None had ever
done him bad, but he had heard stories that caused him to wonder why
there wasn't another revolution brewing!

After standing there for a half hour with no luck, his luck turned, but
for the worse - maybe.  Down the ramp came one of those blue cars with
the bubblegum machine on top.  It could pass, he thought, or it could
stop.  Alas, it rolled to a stop.  The window rolled down and the man
inside crooked a finger for him to walk over.

"Got some ID?"

Mark produced his ID and passed it in.  The cop looked it over briefly,
then instead of giving it back, placed it on his dash, then got out.

"You know it's unlawfull to hithike down here?"

"Yes, but what was I supposed to do? I got let out here, and there's no
traffic coming down this ramp.  Not even a place to stop and eat!"

"Too bad.  Your also underage.  Your folks know where you are?"

"Not exactly.  They know I'm around, but not where, and they don't
care."

"Well, I'll have to take you in just the same." He took Mark's bag and
tossed it in the front seat of the cruiser.  Mark flinched, he hated
letting anything get between him and his baggage.

"Assume the position!"

"Huh?"

"Bend over the hood, kid.  I have to frisk you, regulations."

Mark did as he was told, and the cop carefully ran his hands over his
clothes.  He took Mark's wallet, the only thing he found, and examined
it's contents.

"You wouldn't get far on this little money kid." The wallet contained a
mere $3.

"I manage."

"Humph." The cop, Officer Dan Bybe his nameplate read, got out his hand
cuffs and secured Mark's hands behind his back, then put him in the back
seat.  They headed down the interstate, and got off 2 exits latter. Mark
would have thought they would get off at the first exit then head back
towards town, but state police tended to have there stations in odd
places.

As they drove along, instead of houses and buildings becoming more
common, things thinned out.  Mark wondered where he was being taken, but
kept it to himself.  It never made any sense to hassle a cop.  But
pavement turned to dirt, and then they turned down a little
'two-tracker' (a road with tire tracks and grass down the middle) he
became a little more worried.

"Where are we going? Is this the way to the police station?"

"Don't worry about it kid, you'll find out soon enough."

Eventualy the road, if you could call it that, came to an end in front
of what appeared to be an old abandoned cabin.  The cop turned off his
engine and got out of the car.

"What is this place?", Mark demanded, a note of alarm entering his voice
as the cop opened the cruiser's door and pulled him out.

"Come on in and find out!" Now the cop pushed Mark roughly, making him
fall forward into some mud.  Falling is a bitch when your hands are
cuffed behind your back! He landed full down in it and struggled to get
back up.

"Your a filthy mess, boy!" Then Mark heard a certain sound that was
familiar, the sound of someone's pants being unzipped.  Mark managed to
turn around just in time to see a long thick cock hanging out of the
cops uniform before the heavy spray of piss hit him full in the face.

"Hey, you sonovabitch!" Mark exclaimed.  The cop bent over and slapped
him full across the face.

"You will address me only as 'sir' or 'master', boy.  You ever call be
that again and I'll use a belt on you!"

"You can't do this to me! I have rights you know!"

The big man calmly reached down and ripped open Mark's shirt, buttons
flying all over.  "Get this straight, kid.  Your here, and no one but
you and I know that.  I'm in control here, and I can do what ever I want
with you.  You will learn to do what ever I tell you to do!" Now he
hustled Mark over to a corner of the cabin where there was a faucet and
hose.  Removing the handcuffs, he orddered Mark to strip completly.
Mark complied, seeing no other choice.  Standing there in the cold, damp
air his balls were all shriveled up close to his body, his skin all
goose-flesh.  He closed his eyes as the spray from the hose hit him,
like icesicles.  At least the mud and the urine were getting washed
away! Thus cleanned, they headed for the door.

Once inside, the derelect appearence of the cabin dissappeared. Inside
looked liked any modern cabin.  The cop ordered Mark to stay put, while
he went into another room.  A moment later he returned with a towel and
proceeded to dry off Mark from head to foot.  When the cop got to Mark's
ass, he lingered, running the towel into Mark's crack and between his
legs.  In spite of the cold and the scarry situation, Mark felt a thrill
pass up his spine, and his legs involuntarily spread a little.  The cop
chuckled.

"Welcome to your new home, boy."

"I'm cold."

The cop poked a finger into Mark's chest.  "Cold SIR!"

"I'm cold, sir.  Is there anything for me to wear?"

"Don't worry about that, you'll be warm soon enough." With that, the man
went over to what appeared to be a wall, and pulled out on a light
swittch there.  Instead of a light coming on, a section of the wall
swung out revealing a room.  A strange room, it was all black and
appeared bare.  The cop pushed Mark inside, and said "I'll see you
later."

"I gotta use a bathroom!"

"No you don't.", was all the man said as he closed the wall panel.

The room was all done in black vinyl or rubber, and padded.  There was a
light in the ceiling, covered by wire like a light in a gym.  It wasn't
as bare as it had looked from outside.  There were metal rings all over,
recessed into the rubber.  Mark knew what they were for, and was filled
with a mixture of fear and excitement.  But for the moment the fear won,
and he sat down in a corner and hugged himself as he shivered from the
still chill air.  Then, not knowing what else to do, he fell asleep.

An unknown amount of time latter, Mark woke and found himself in a
sweat.  The room was now quite warm.  Warmth radiated from all over the
floor.  His naked body was slick with perspiration.  Also, his bladder
ached with need for relief.  No provision had been made for such need,
so he tried banging on the part of the wall that opened, and yelling.
There was no response, and the exertion in the heat left him feeling
exausted.  Finaly, not knowing what else to do, he relieved himself in a
corner.  As the piss hit the warm floor, the smell of it came up and
filled his nostrils.  He felt alot better, but worried what the man
would do to him for pissing on the floor.  Hell, it wasn't His fault
there was no bathroom!

Mark sat back down again, and contemplated what to do about his present
situation.  He had no idea where his clothes might be, and beyond being
in a woods somewhere in Georgia, he had no idea where he was.  Even if
he had a chance to make a mad break to freedom, that left him stranded
in the middle of nowhere, naked and alone, with a cop no doubt looking
for him.  If he could somehow over-power the cop, it would do him little
good.  Even stealing the cops cruiser, how far could he get in a stolen
police car, with a cop chasing him? If caught, which was almost certain,
no one would take the word of a drifting teenager against that of a
trooper! Mark felt a cold anger rise in himself.  It wasn't fair! He had
done nothing to deserve this situation.

So it was this mood he was in as the wall opened and the cop stepped
into the room.  No longer in uniform, he now wore the standard jeans and
T-shirt of leisure-time America.  Mark glowered up at him, a look of
defiance.

"Hello there little friend!" The cop looked in the corner where the
puddle of piss lay.  "What have we here? You know what happens to boys
that piss on my floor?" With that he reached down and undid the buckle
of his belt and pulled it from the loops.

"Fuck you! Where else was I supposed to go?"

"Tsk tsk, you're going to learn, boy." The cop walked over, looking down
at Mark, menacing with a blank face.  Mark turned away, but there was
nothing behind him but a wall.  The belt caught him across the cheeks of
his ass and Stung! Mark yelped and tried to get up.  The cop just
grabbed him by the ear and hauled him painfully from the room to a
chair.  Then, instead of using the belt, he forced Mark across his knees
like a child and whalloped his butt with his bare hands.  Mark struggled
and screamed, the hand was little better than the belt, but it did no
good.

"Are you sorry you pissed on the floor?"

"Yes!" Mark replied, somewhat sarcasticly.  A few more smacks across the
ass was all he got.

"Are you real sorry?"

"Yes." Mark whimpered.

Smack! "Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm sorry!"

Smack! "Sorry, Sir!"

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"Good." With that the man piked him up and carried him across the room
and threw him down on the bed there.  "Get up on you knees, boy."

Mark complied, knowing what was coming, and was afraid.  He pointed his
cherry-red ass up and closed his eyes.  The grease went on cool, and
then came that big man's cock, sliding into his hole.  It didn't hurt as
bad as he thought it would, but he couldn't suppress a groan.  When the
meat was burried all the way in him, the man reached around and grabed
Marks own cock, with a handfull of grease, and started stroking.

"You like that cock, don't you boy.  You like my cock in your ass." In
spite of himself, Mark felt his own cock begin to stiffen.

"Nooo", he moaned.

The man began slowly pulling out.  It felt like it was a foot long. But
before it was all the way out, he pushed it in again.  "Yes, you do to
like it!" Marks cock was now rock hard.  "You don't like it, how come
your dick's so hard?"

"I don't know!"

Smack! Another blow across his backside.  "I don't know, sir! Please
don't hit me!"

"Ok, I know.  You like it.  I'm going to pump your butt full of cum!"
With that, he began pumping his rod in and out of Marks young ass, all
the while stroking on Marks cock.  Mark's head was confused between
pleasure, pain, and humilation.  He did the only thing most anyone could
do under the circumstances.  He came.

"Yess, you like it, boy!" The man thrust his meat in deep, and Mark felt
it swell and throb as man juice squirted deep inside him.  "Yea! You got
a nice ass boy.  I'll enjoy having you around!" He pulled his cock out,
and got up.

"I'll be right back", he said, and walked out of the room.  Mark saw
this as his big chance, and limped over to the door going outside. To
his dismay, he found it had the kind of lock that requires a key both
inside and out.

"Going someplace?" The cop walked back into the room carrying a bucket
and sponge, just in time to catch Mark checking the door.  "You're not
going anywhere.  Accept it kid, your here to stay.  The sooner you
accept it and quit fighting, the better off you'll be." He grabbed Mark
by the arm and hauled him back to the rubberized room.  "Now get this
mess cleaned up!", he ordered, pointing to the puddle, now beginning to
dry around the edges.  He pushed Mark down roughly, making him land in
it.  With that, he set down that bucket and tossed the sponge down
beside him.  "I'm going to make sure you don't make a mess like that
again!", and again he left the room, pulling the wall panel closed
behind him.  Mark quickly cleaned the spot off the floor, certain
another beating would follow if he didn't.  He hoped he'd get a chance
to wash himself, too.  When he finished the floor, he sat down and
waited.

Only a couple minutes went by when the wall swung open.  "Ok boy, lay
down on your back."

Mark complied, not knowing what to expect next.  The cop was carrying a
bag that looked somehow familiar, but it didn't register at first.  He
got on his knees at Marks feet, and opened the bag.  It was then that
Mark realized what it was.  A fucking diaper bag! Mark tried to squirm
away, but the cop grabbed him by the ankles.  "Stay put, brat!" The man
applied just enough pressure and twist to make Mark lie still.  With
that he pulled out a fluffy white diaper, powder, pins, and grease.
Working like an expert, he had Mark all done up in no time, then got out
the inevitable plastic pants and they went on too.

"That should keep you nice and snug!" And then the cop was gone again.

Mark layed there, staring at the place where there was no door only a
few moments when he yanked off the plastic pants and diaper, tearing
them to shreds and flinging them at the wall.  No sonovabitch was going
to put Him in diapers! He had to pee again, and this time he pissed
right where the wall opened.  Maybe he'd be lucky, and the cop would
slip in it and break his fucking neck! Then he layed down and quietly
cried himself to sleep.

When Mark awoke, he had to pee again, and worse, he had to shit. So he
addded to the puddle in front of the entrance, getting his feet wet, but
not caring.  He tried to picture in his mind exactly where tha man's
foot would step in the room, and there he left a smelly pile. Then sat
down to await whatever happened.

He didn't have to wait too long when the wall opened, and there stood
the cop, diaper bag in hand.  And sure enough, the cop stepped exactly
where he was supposed to.  His feet flew out from under him and he
landed on his ass in the puddle.  Mark jumped up, and tried to make a
break for the door, but the man snagged him by the foot and sent Mark
down into the puddle beside him.  A big hand came down across Mark's
face, hard.

This time, when the diaper bag was opened, it wasn't diaper paraphenalia
that came out.  Instead, leather bands, the kind you see in adult
stores.  Mark was too weak with fright to put up even a token of protest
as the man bound his wrists and ankles, working slowly, as if oblivious
to the piss and shit that stained his clothes.  Once Mark was thus
bound, the man stood up and towered over him.  "You think your clever,
don't you?" He pushed Mark over into the mess, and rolled him around in
it.  "You like lieing in your own shit, kid?" And then he pulled out a
short paddle.

"No!" Mark screamed, but the paddle connected to his ass anyway. The
thin board against his wet ass hurt like hell, and Mark screamed. Again
and again wood met flesh.  This was no child's spanking, but a real
beating.  Mark ran out of breath to yell, but the beating continued.
When at last it stopped, Mark hardly noticed.  The pain in his ass
continued.

"Please master!", Mark whimpered.

The cop stood in front of Mark, inches from his face.  "Lick the shit
off my shoe, boy!"

"Please, No! Please master!"

The man raised the paddle again, menacingly.  Mark complied, retching.
Now the cop took his clothes off.

"Lay down on your belly, boy.  When Mark obeyed, the cop slid him so his
face was right over a glob of crap.  Mark strained to keep his face up.
A foot came down, shoving his face into the smelly mass.  Mark
whimpered, but got no mercy.  Instead, the cop climbed on top and thrust
his raging prick into the bruised young ass.  The man pumped hard,
rubbing Mark's face in the shit all the while.  Each thrust sent a new
shot of pain into the boy, as the man banged against the now purple ass.
Finishing, he pulled his cock out, and wiped it across Mark's face. Mark
lay in his own mess and whimpered.

"Please, Oh please master, don't hurt me.  I'll be good master."

"Cut the master shit, that's over.  You tried to be smart, you thought
you could escape.  You call me 'da da' now.  You thought you were too
grown to wear a diaper? Well I'm going to make a real baby out of you,
and I'm going to be your daddy! Say it! Say 'Yes dada, I love you dada!"

Choking, "Yes dada,I love you dada."

"Good." Dada walked out, leaving Mark lieing where he was.  Mark was too
scared and hurt to bother trying to crawl to a dry spot.  A little while
latter the cop returned, and removed the binds, and carried Mark into
the bathroom.  He had drawn a tub, and placed Mark in it. Gently now, he
washed the boy down.

When finished, he dried him off and laid him on the bed, producing a
fresh set of diaper and plastic pants.  Mark didn't even struggle this
time.  Instead he automaticly raised his legs to let the diaper get
under him, remembering without thinking how it was done when he was a
real baby.  The cream on his bruised butt was soothing, and Mark sighed.

"Nice and snug! Can you say that Marky?"

"Nice and snug!" Marky agreed.

"Thats my baby!" He tossled Mark's hair.  "Now you stay here and be
good.  Dady's got to clean up the mess made by my bad boy, but then I'll
make you some lunch!"

Mark was too hurt and tired to do anything else, and in fact he fell
asleep.  When he woke up a little latter, he heard the shower running.
His bladder was full again, and being afraid to do anything else, he let
go and wet himself.  The warm pee spread in his diaper.  He worried
about a leak, but nothing happened, so he relaxed to the enevitable.
When Dada came out of the shower, he came over and reached down into
Mark's diaper to check.

"Well, wet already! Now was that so bad?"

"No."

He stroked between Marks legs, pressing the warm dampness against him.

"Feels kind of nice, doesn't it?"

"It's warm."

"Yup." The he caried Mark into the kitchen where there was an adult size
high-chair.  This he strapped Mark into, and put the tray in place.
"Lunch time kiddo."

While the man busied himself preparing a good lunch, Mark had time to
consider what was happening.  Diapers, high chair, god new what else
awaited.  He had tried so hard to be an adult, leaving his family early
and all, and now look! Some kook was making a baby of him! When the food
was brought over, tears of self-pity were running down his face.

"There there, little boy, don't cry.  Daddy won't hurt his little guy!"
He stroked Mark's head gently, holding him against his chest. Mark
clung, reaching out to the only person avaiable, sobbing.  Daddy just
stroked and made soothing sounds.

When the sobbing stopped, he put a bib on Mark, and began feeding him.
Mark cooperated, feeling week and defeated.  Besides, the food tasted
good, and Mark was hungry.  In spite of being dressed and treated like a
baby, Mark ate enough for a growing boy.

After lunch, daddy sat with him in a chair, holding him comfortably
against him, and fed him a bottle of warm milk.  Mark soon got drowsy,
and after a change into a dry diaper, he carried him into the last room
of the cabin Mark hadn't seen.  Mark could have guessed what it would be
after all had passed.  But he felt warm and full, and besides, an
over-sized crib in a nursery room was better than the aufull rubber room
with it's bare walls.  A soft warm blanket was put over him, and Mark's
last thought before falling asleep was how pretty the butterflies
swinging over the crib were.  Of course, his tortured mind refused to
acknowledge anything strange about the bars on the side of the crib also
going over the crib.