You side eyed the situation happening across the room. You didn't like where it was headed but saw no way to stop it.
Your wife was currently setting the toddler free after a diaper change. He got put on his unsteady feet and seeing his chance to make a run for it he did. Straight to something shiny. She, however, discarded all the soiled stuff, cleaned up and straightened the changing mat.
The whole time she chatted with her “friend.” Why were they always “friends?” You had never met any of them. In fact, you'd never seen any of them again. When you pressed for info all she would say is “I meet them online.”
It wasn't something she used to do…
“Jerry, come in here please!” Her voice pitched to carry to the next room.
Nope, this wasn't looking good.
Your home from college son waddled in, without question laid in front of her.
Her friend commented on how well behaved your eldest was. Your wife on the other hand went to work.
She had insisted on this. No potty training, none. Not after the incident.
Your own legs were currently being pushed apart by your very own sodden mess.
It was in fact your fault.
You pretended you weren't paying attention.
You cringed inside remembering what had happened.
She had forgiven you ofcourse, or well it seemed that way. You WERE still married.
She had insisted all males were untrustworthy, though. Never to be far from a guiding hand. What better way to insure that than to put them on the short leash of needing to be checked and changed. Always in need of her.
The first diaper she had placed around your waist had seemed insurmountable. Yet there it was. Impossible yet truly true.
The last tape went on with a “padded pants play perilously.” She then pressed the tapes down to make sure they stayed, rose and walked out of the room.
You laid on the floor for another hour contemplating it all.
She was wrapping up the change, releasing Jerry by buttoning his pants in place and sending him on.
She repeated the tidying up she had done once before.
The mat was straightened and supplies were being put away. You felt a glimmer of hope.
Maybe she was getting past this.
Maybe she was tired of the game.
Maybe she was over the dirty diapers.
With the kids wipes put away she pulled out a diaper meant for you. It was huge compared to the others. Covered in the same style prints. Why couldn't she just use the medical ones?
She pulled a different powder and set of wipes out.
Her friend commented on the diapers size, even letting go of an “Oh, my!”
Not again! You thought to yourself.
She was bound and determined to keep this up it seemed.
Your lawyer had advised against divorce, at least for a few years. You had to get beyond the point where your mistakes could be the reason for the split.
No, she owned you right now, completely.
Fluffing the diaper, apparently it made it more comfortable. She laughed in agreement, “Big butts need big diapers,” she merely responded.
Her mirth stayed on her face for a bit, “you know it amazes me how much they benefit from them. How much we benefit from them being in them.”
Her hand went into the air, it hung there inviting you over, almost as if forgotten.
“Sweetheart, it's your turn.” From 0 to 100 your heartbeat climbed. Pushing blood to your face as you blushed.
At first you pretended not to hear her.
“Honey, make this easy on me please.”
“Oh you were talking to me?” You feigned ignorance but she knew better.
“Come here, I'll make it quick.” At least she was telling the truth. She never did make it linger. At least unless sex or some other activity that didn't require diapers was happening. It was rare.
“Can't it wait until your guest is gone?”
“No, I don't have time to keep pulling supplies out and putting them away. Plus you likely are in deep need of a change anyway. “
Thinking madly for any excuse “It's not that bad.”
“You know you need them, and it's that time, let's get you changed.” Her tone began to show anger.
You could just walk out, not likely either woman could do more than slow you down.
“I don't need diapers, you make me Wear them.” As you came closer but not close enough to be in arms reach.
“Oh really? Then why the bulge, you're not THAT big. Or are you finally starting to enjoy being pampered?” Her tone was coy and mocking.
You just stared, anger flaring. What could you do? If you left, where would you go? You didn't even have underwear. She had shredded those.
“Honey, let's go.” Your feet moved of their own free will. Shuffling into the reach of that hand that she forgot to put down.
“There's a good boy.” Pants were unbuttoned, your shame exposed, “oh boy! Another 10 minutes and I'd have been cleaning the chair too.”
There wasn't enough blood in your body to feel your feet and burn your face at the same time.
With a slight squish, she directed you to lay in front of her. “They just need a firm hand. They will accept it if they care. Most of them do, they just aren't good at showing it.” her diatribe was aimed at her friend who was watching very intently, you noticed.
“He isn't any different, they need us, whether they'll admit it or not.” The tapes came off. “Don't you? tell me you love me.”
This was part of the game, it got worse when you didn't play your part. “I love you so much.” Your hands covering your face.
“More than anything.” Your voice sounding annoyed but you knew your lines.
“You wouldn't have it any other way?”
Like a drone on autopilot, “no I wouldn't, and if I didn't have it this way I'd find you and ask you to make it this way.”
She smiled finishing her cleaning up. “Such a good boy.”
Her friend beamed down at you. “You know? I think you're right. I think it's a good thing. I'm glad to see your commitment to this, it's truly inspiring.”
Your shame covered, padded and snugly taped in, you were set free from her grasp.
“Ah. Ah, let me check.” She wanted to see her work had been done well. You just simply had to stand there like a sack of meat.
Fingers went in leg holes checking how tight they were. The waistband and straightness. Satisfied she gave your bum a good slap. It didn't hurt, not much made it through that padding.
“Thank you for being a good boy.” She said, bringing her lips to your ears, “I think you've earned a treat.” The last was only for your ears.
Well at least there was something to look forward to.
