Just me

Chapter One Loud, booming music filled the darkened room of the nightclub, making conversation difficult for anyone but the person in one’s immediate vicinity. Unfortunately, there was no one in my immediate vicinity as I nursed my drink, alone at the bar, as usual. The company I worked for, a well established bank in town, had rented the club for the evening to celebrate a merger with a rival financial institution. But as I tended to be something of an introvert, I found myself secluded in a room full of people. It wasn’t that I was ugly, but I was considered somewhat of a geek by my co-workers and the fact was, my friends were few and far between. It didn’t help that I was still a virgin at 22. Of course, I hotly denied it to everyone around me but I don’t think anyone believed me. The fact was, my list of achievements with girls could be counted on one hand. There was Sylvia, from the comic book club, who I briefly shared an evening making out in the back of her car. That night had ended ignominiously when I had prematurely ejaculated in my pants while kissing her. And then there was Wendy, who upon discovering my minuscule, pre-pubescent sized boner, broke into gales of laughter and abandoned me in our high school parking lot, horny and ashamed of myself. So my record with women was hardly something to be proud of. I had resigned myself to a life of solitary exclusion, masturbating at home in my pathetic studio apartment. My sad self reflection was interrupted by the sudden presence of a person coming up to the bar next to me. “I’ll get a glass of the Cab,” she said in a cool, commanding voice. I shivered with instant recognition and my heart skipped a beat. Without turning my head, I knew without a doubt it was my supervisor, Denise. She had started several months ago and quickly rose through the ranks while I still remained a lowly clerk. She had an authoritative air about her and she was used to getting her way. At 5’ 10", she towered over me and with her ubiquitous high heels, she was, in fact, a full head taller. I always felt like a fumbling child in her presence, and even though she’d barely said more than a couple words to me during the few months she’d worked at the bank, I was completely intimidated by her. It wasn’t just the force of her personality. She was stunningly beautiful too, with long, jet black hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down the middle of her back. She had steely blue eyes that took my breath away and made me unable to hold her gaze. But everyone agreed that she was the prettiest woman that had ever worked at the bank and with her cute nose and full, sensuous lips, she could have easily been a model. Besides being tall and statuesque, she also had a narrow waist and big, impossible-to-ignore breasts. Her full, generous cups seemed to overflow from the restrictive confines of her sheer blouses and there was many a night I had spent, diddling myself as I fantasizing about her and her fabulous body. As she waiting for her wine, I stared ahead, afraid to look over at her, my heart pounding in my chest and my mouth suddenly dry. Out of my peripheral vision, I could see the slinky black cocktail dress she was wearing, so low cut and revealing that our doddering old fool of a bank manager, Mr. Jenkins, had blushed when he first saw it this evening. At the same time, the female bank workers were looking at her with knives while the males were practically drooling over themselves. The latter group had done everything in their power to get her out on a date but so far, she had rejected them all. I could only speculate what sort of man could live up to her standards but I knew he would have to be incredible. For my own part, I was content just to stay out of her way and not have her dislike me, at least not overtly. “What are you drinking?” Denise asked casually. My heart skipped a beat. Hastily, I looked around, certain she was talking to someone else. When I could see no other person within shouting distance, I gulped hard and briefly looked up into her crystalline sapphire-blue eyes. “Um–uh, j-just beer,” I replied lamely. I instantly hated myself for my abysmal social skills. She must have thought I was the lowliest turd in the room. And yet, instead of rolling her eyes (as I’d seen her do before), she flashed me an impish smile which only made her look more radiant, if that was even possible. “You’re name’s Chris, right?” she asked. I blushed with pride that she actually knew my name, despite the fact we had worked in the same small building for four months together. “Uh, y-yes,” I stammered, “Hi Denise,” I croaked. I felt so utterly unworthy of having a conversation with her. My palms were sweating and I felt the eyes of every guy in the room upon us. Her glass of wine appeared but she ignored it. “Want to dance?” she asked simply. I swallowed hard in disbelief. “M-me?” I stammered as I pointed to myself incredulously. “I’m not talking to anyone else, am I?” she replied dryly. I cleared my throat nervously. What was I going to say? No? I would have walked home naked if she had asked me. “Um, s-sure,” I said uncertainly. We made our way out to the dance floor and I followed behind like her little puppy. Just watching her walk was an intensely arousing experience, with her perfect buns and the feminine sway of her curvy hips. Gazing at her long, sexy legs, I felt myself getting hard in my pants. It seemed like I was panting before we even began to dance and I was seeing a side of her I hadn’t seen before. Whereas at the bank, she carried herself with a cool, professional demeanor–here, she was like an exotic dancer, so completely exciting and delicious in every way. She slid up against me and I shivered with delight. Her dance was tortuously erotic and once again, I could feel the eyes of everyone watching us. I smiled foolishly with pride at being the one that Denise chose to dance with–this was the single most amazing point of my entire life! As the beat grew slower, she moved up close to me and deliberately ground herself against my thigh. It was all too much for me. I shuddered and abruptly climaxed in my pants. She immediately sensed a change and she looked at me strangely. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head and blushed hotly. “N-nothing, I’m okay,” I lied. Suddenly, her slim hand reached down and cupped my crotch, feeling the damp spot forming in front. I jerked away like her hand was a red hot poker, ashamed of my pathetic lack of control. “Chris, did you just cum in your pants?” she asked pointedly, her left eyebrow rising in a show of incredulity. “No–I-I….” I stammered at a loss for words. “I better take you home, I think you’ve had more than you can handle for one night.” I blushed fire engine red and looked down at the floor in shame. Taking me by the hand, she led me past the groups of staring employees who were fortunately ignorant of my shameful deed. We walked out to the parking lot, Denise leading the way and holding my hand like I was child. I felt so humiliated, having her think I had no more control than a pimply-faced 13 year-old boy. Opening the door to her Lexus, she pushed me in without giving me a chance to explain myself. “Really, I-I can drive myself home,” I tried to tell her. “Oh no, you’re coming home with me,” she said firmly, “I have something you need at my house.” I couldn’t imagine what she was talking about, but I was relieved that she at least wasn’t laughing at me or scorning me openly in front of our other co-workers. As she drove us through the darkened city streets, her delicate, manicured hand came to rest on my thigh, which she began to rub softly. “So…do you find me sexy?” she asked, her voice taking on a sensuous timbre. “Oh my god–yes,” I replied without equivocation. “Well, I think you’re kind of cute too, Chrissey,” she said with that impish smile again. Even though she had used a more feminine form of my name, I could hardly protest because her hand was making it’s way over to my crotch. “What have you got hiding down in there?” she asked playfully. I froze with nervousness, afraid of what she would discover. Even when I was fully erect, my penis was no more than two inches–on my best day. Limp, it could barely be referred to as my “manhood”. “Hmm…” she said as she reached further down, “I’m not finding anything…are you sure you have a cock?” she teased. I felt the sides of my cheeks burning with shame and my neck getting red as well. “Y-yes,” I stammered, “it’s-it’s just not, um, very big.” “Well, I’ll have to take your word for it, cause I’m not finding anything.” This was mortifying to have to go through again, with her, of all people. At last, we pulled into her driveway and the humiliating inquiry was interrupted. We got out and went into her house where she gave me a beer from out of her refrigerator. Pouring herself a glass of red wine she instructed me to follow her down the hallway. “Chrissey, if you’re going to be with me, we’re going to have to take some steps to take care of your little problem.” I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the size of my penis or my tendency to prematurely ejaculate, neither of which I was very proud of. Turning to face me, she reached down and began unbuttoning my pants. “Wha-what are you doing?” I squeaked, suddenly nervous again. “Look. Let’s get something straight–in this relationship, I make the rules. If you can’t deal with that, you can walk out the door right now and I’ll never speak to you again,” she said defiantly. The color drained from my face. How could I tell this incredibly gorgeous woman no? How could I deny her anything? “I…I’m okay with that,” I said meekly. “Good. I’m glad to hear it,” she said, her voice taking on a bossy tone, “because I have something here that will help your little problem.” I still didn’t know what she had in mind but I stood there like a child as she unzipped my pants and dropped them to the floor. I shivered as her smooth hands slipped inside my underwear and pulled them down, ignoring the gooey wet spot on the front. She looked at my shriveled member and shook her head, making me blush all over again. I groaned with embarrassment as she reached into her dresser drawer and took out a clear plastic device of some sort. “I only hope this is small enough,” she said as she took it apart and then put the pieces aside. Despite my humiliation, I felt myself getting aroused all over again. As she was bending over, I couldn’t help but gaze down the scoop neck of her cocktail dress and stare at the two big twins spilling out of her top. They were truly massive and they pushed up against each other, creating an unbelievably sexy cleavage. As I felt her handling my sack, I started to get erect once more. “That’s good, keep staring at my breasts, Chrissey,” she said as if reading my mind, “it’ll help me to get your little penis into this device.” I whimpered as she placed a clear ring around the base of my genitals and with a little lube, began pushing my semi-erect member into a short, cock-shaped tube with a slit at the end. “Wait–wha-what are you doing?” I asked suddenly apprehensive. “Something your mommy should have done a long time ago,” she said as she squashed my erection, pushing the tube up against the ring to mate it with the pins facing forward. In no time, she took a small lock and slipped it through the hole in front, clicking it closed with an air of finality. My penis, small as it was, felt stuffed into the device and it was now forced into a downward facing angle. “There, that should take care of that little problem,” she said with a smug look on her face. “But…but how am I going to get any satisfaction now?” I asked dumbly. “You’ve already had your satisfaction, and I hope it was good for you because it will be the last orgasm you have for quite a while.” Before I could protest, she continued without pausing. “And now, we need to take care of a little unpleasant business. Well…unpleasant for you, that is,” she said with a smirk as she reached into her dresser drawer and pulled out a long rectangular wooden paddle with air holes in it. “Wait–what are you gonna do?” I quaked nervously as I tried to back away from her. “This will help you understand who makes the rules in this relationship,” she snapped as she snatched my wrist and yanked me over her sexy lap. “Wait! Stop!” I cried desperately. I hadn’t been spanked since my mom caught me masturbating at the age of sixteen. She had quickly reduced me to tears (as she always did) in short order and I didn’t want a repeat here. With the floor only inches from my face, I tried to get up off her lap but she held me in place with steel-like strength. Denise gripped my shirt firmly with her left hand as her right arm swung up in an avenging arc with the paddle. “Stop it! Stop it!” I wailed as I kicked my feet frantically. The paddle swooped down and landed squarely across both my bare cheeks, searing them like a hundred wasp stings. “OWW-WOW-OWW!!!” SMACKKKK!!! Another harsh swat landed right where the first one did and I gasped in shock, my eyes bugging out of my head. I struggled mightily against her but nothing I did could extricate myself from her grasp. SMACKKK!! SMACKKKK!! A few moments ago, I had been worried about the chastity device but that was the last thing on my mind right now. My eyes filled with tears and I looked down at her high heels, spread a little apart to give her support as she spanked me hard like a naughty little boy. Her paddle rained down on my defenseless bottom again and again, scalding it and turning it into a flaming sea of crimson welts. I tried to hold back but I couldn’t take it anymore. As her harsh paddle swatted my tender cheeks over and over, I burst into tears and sobbed like a baby. She kept up her punitive rhythm and I slapped my hands in the floor in frustration and impotence. How could I ever have imagined this is how I would be spending my evening? Why was she punishing me so thoroughly? This was certainly no sensual play spanking, but a blistering paddling that would leave me unable to sit for some time. Every time I tried to position one of my cheeks away from her attentions, she’d smack it especially hard several times. Tears were streaming down my face and my nose was running when she finally stopped and let me up. Standing me on my shaky legs, I stamped my feet and rubbed my throbbing, blazing cheeks. For several moments, I just bawled unashamedly in front of her, knowing I looked like nothing more than a defeated, punished child. She gazed back at me with a look of tremendous satisfaction, a pleased, superior smile on her pretty face. “Why did you spank me so hard?” I sobbed in bitter frustration.

“So you’d know who wears the pants around here,” she said as she stood up. Reaching her hands out, she took me into her arms and held me close, burying my face into the soft, pillowy cushions of her big breasts. I cried and cried, my chest heaving as she softly stroked my swollen, flaming bottom. “There, there, baby, get it all out,” she whispered softly in my ear. Despite the intense, searing pain on my cheeks, it was wonderful to have my nose deep between her beautiful boobs. They smelled fantastic and felt even better against my wet, sobbing face. For so long, since the first day Denise started working at the bank, I had fantasized about doing just this, although, certainly not under these circumstances. “And now, it’s time my little sugarplum took care of mommy,” she said with a coy smile.

Chapter Two Holding my face gently in her slim hands, Denise bent down and gave me a long, slow, sensuous kiss. I closed my eyes and relaxed, feeling myself helplessly melting in her soft hands. She tasted fabulous and it was obvious she was in no hurry to end our embrace. I felt so confused! The same beautiful woman that had just paddled my bottom to a five alarm fire and made me cry like a baby was giving me the most passionate kiss of my life! Although my mind may have been confused, my penis certainly wasn’t. It expanded within the chastity device until it was straining like a Pit Bull against it’s leash. Without thinking, I reached down to alleviate the constriction but could do little other than helplessly grasp my imprisoned wiener in futility. It throbbed with frustration and angst. Denise reached down and tweaked my nipple, making me groan with desire. “I have a surprise for you,” she said finally as she ended the kiss and whispered in my ear. “You-you do?” I asked breathlessly. I was so worked up and aroused–I wanted her desperately! “I have a very big surprise for you,” she said, and even though I thought I heard a trace of mirth in her voice, I was so excited, I dismissed it. “I want you on your knees, Chrissey,” she told me with a provocative smile on her pretty face. Maybe she wanted me to lick her pussy? If so, I certainly didn’t have any objections. I had never been that close to a woman’s sex before but I figured it couldn’t be that difficult. Presumably, she’d tell me what she wanted if I wasn’t doing it right. “Um, will you teach me how to do it?” I asked her timidly. “Oh yes,” she grinned, “I’ll train you to be the very best.” As I knelt before her on my knees, she took a small object in her hands and pressed a button. I thought I heard some mechanical device being turned on but I couldn’t be sure and as I glanced around the room, I couldn’t see anything apparent. “What was that?” I asked innocently. “Don’t you worry your little head about it, Chrissey, you just need to focus on the job ahead of you,” she said, still grinning. Part of me suspected she had something up her sleeve but I couldn’t imagine what it was, and in any case, I wanted to prove to her I could satisfy her like a man. “Close your eyes, Chrissey, it’s time for your big surprise,” she instructed me. Doing as I was told, I knelt in place, not understanding why such a thing would be necessary. I heard her moving a bit and thought I could discern her pulling her panties down her legs. My breathing quickened as I imagined her sex–was it shaved down there? That would be super sexy, I mused.

“Open your mouth, sissy,” she told me, “Nice and wide…wider, Chrissey…that’s it…nice and wide…good boy.” I heard her giggling and couldn’t imagine what she found so amusing. “Here you go…just what every sissy boy needs,” she said. Suddenly, I felt a warm, massive object being pushed into my mouth, quickly filling it to capacity. My eyes shot open and I squealed with shock. Denise had a fat, gargantuan cock and she had just thrust it deep into my mouth! I felt her hands firmly holding the back of my head, preventing me from escaping but I struggled anyway. “Surprise!” she said with a throaty chuckle. “AWFGH!!!!” I gagged as she pushed her cock all the way in, all the way to my larynx, nearly choking me. She smiled down on me wickedly, keeping her hands on the back of my head as she pulled her member out a little and then shoved it back in. Each time, I gagged and struggled to breathe through my nose. “Don’t worry sissy, you’ll be getting plenty of practice. Just use your tongue…that’s it…thaaaat’s it…suck that big lollipop,” she said in a husky voice. I didn’t want to accommodate her but there was little I could do as she thrust it in and out of my mouth, forcing me to suck her titanic phallus. “This is right where you belong, on your knees with a big, hard cock in your mouth…” She paused only long enough to moan deliriously. “Oh yessss…That’s it…show mommy what a good little cocksucker you are…” I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Was I really sucking my supervisor’s cock right now? On my knees, giving my hot boss a sloppy blowjob? My lips were wrapped around the slippery shaft of her big, thick cock and she slid it in and out of my warm, wet mouth at a pace of her own choosing. “More tongue…that’s it…that’s my little sissy…Mommy’s going to teach you to be the best little cocksucker there is…” Her words were so humiliating to hear, and yet, I felt like I had no choice. I could only hope and pray that if she decided to cum, she’d pull it out of my mouth first. One time, I had experimented with my own, tasting the strange semen while masturbating and I hadn’t liked it at all. “Maybe I’ll have you do this to me in the break room at work…would you like that, Chrissey?” Needless to say, with eight inches of hard cock meat stuffed into my mouth, I was in no position to respond. Some of her precum was leaking as I sucked on her and the salty taste mixed with my saliva like a lubricant. Her fat shaft was pistoning in and out and a steady stream of drool was dribbling down my chin. “Get ready sissy…oh…oh…oh-my-god, I’m…I’m about to…” Her voice trailed off. Her thrusts into my willing mouth were becoming more urgent and I sensed her orgasm was not far off. It felt like she was practically raping my mouth, battering her big pole in and choking me, only to pull it out and thrust it back in again. My head was getting dizzy from all the pounding until she stopped abruptly and held my head tightly in place with both of her hands. The head of her cock was positioned just inside my mouth, with my lips wrapped around the big, bulbous head. “OHHHHH!!! OH MY GODDD!!!” she shrieked. I felt her cock swell in my mouth, followed by a huge explosion as she came like a tidal wave. Instantly, my mouth was filled to capacity with hot, creamy semen and I gagged as I struggled to swallow it. No sooner did I gulp it down, when she blew a fresh batch into my mouth, filling it to overflowing. I squealed and shook my hands in the air, desperate to get relief from the mighty cannon my lips were wrapped around. Semen spilled out of the corners of my mouth and dripped down my chin. I tried to back off and get away but she continued to hold my head firmly in her hands, forcing me to take all her cum as she thrust her hard cock all the way in and shot a third load, right down my throat. All the time, she was gasping for air as she roiled in the throes of her multiple orgasm. I could hardly breathe and I swallowed again and again, trying to keep up with what seemed like a fire hydrant. At last, the spasms lessened, and she leaned back against her bed, exhausted, her beautiful blue eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Oh my god, that felt good…I’ve wanted to cum in your mouth for months now,” she confessed between gasps for breath. I blushed with humiliation at having willingly sucked a cock and swallowed her massive load of semen, to say nothing of being the object of her pervy desires. My lips and chin were sticky with cum and the inside of my mouth was slick with her semen. Blushing furiously, I swiped my arm across my face even as I subconsciously licked the cum from around the corners of my mouth. “But it’s true,” she said still trying to catch her breath, “Ever since I first saw you in the bank, I’ve pictured you on your knees, with my cock in your mouth–and we both know that’s where you really belong. “With that tiny little penis of yours, you’re useless as a man, but as a cocksucking sissy, I think you have a very bright future,” she giggled. Reaching down, she grasped my locked up genitals and gave them a shake. “And fortunately, we’ve taken care of that little problem,” she smirked, “with emphasis on little.” I stood up, shaken and upset, my cheeks burning with shame. “Honestly, you didn’t really think you were ever going to satisfy a woman with that tiny thing, did you?” Her scorn washed over me and made me want to cry again. Craning my neck to look up into her pretty and confident face, I felt so completely inferior to her while she stood there, her hands on her hips and looking down at me with that smug, superior expression of hers. “Aww, come here baby,” she said, taking me in her arms again and using a voice reserved for toddlers. Once more, she pushed my nose into her deep cleavage and held me there, stroking the back of my head tenderly. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she said soothingly, “Don’t be upset, okay?” She reached down and kissed my ear to comfort me. I was so confused! My emotions were all over the place! In one moment, Denise could be as cruel as my worst enemy, and in the next, loving and warm. Meanwhile, I breathed in deeply of her feminine scent and savored the wonderful feeling of her big, soft breasts against my face. “Okay Chrissey, you’ve been through a lot today, I think it’s time you got a little reward,” she said in a seductive voice. Wondering what she had in mind, I pulled my face away as she took one of her long nailed fingers and pulled the spaghetti strap of her dress aside, letting it fall past her shoulder. As the dress fell away, it revealed the cup of her sexy satin black push-up bra. I licked my lips as she reached between the cups to undo the clasp holding them together. “Is this what baby wants?” she cooed to me. I nodded hungrily and she peeled back the cup from her right breast to reveal a big pink aureole and a perky nipple. “Here sissy, suck from Mommy’s breast,” she urged me. Since she was so tall, I hardly needed to bend over to accommodate her. I happily wrapped my lips around her warm nipple and suckled, feeling waves of bliss washing over me. “That’s just what Mommy’s baby needs, hm, sugarplum?” she asked me in a sweet voice. I nodded and savored the taste of her nipple, reaching up with my right hand to fondle her left breast. “Nope, hands off sissy, that’s not for you to touch,” she scolded me lightly. I whimpered but continued enjoying the wonderful nipple in my mouth. “Hmm…I’m starting to think Mommy needs to get some clothing more appropriate for her baby…like maybe some diapers and plastic pants? What do you think, baby Chrissey? Is that what my little sugarplum needs?” I shook my head and mumbled no, although it was considerably muffled with her gigantic breast filling my mouth. “Well…I don’t know Chrissey, I think you’re more of a sissy baby than you’ve led us to believe…I might just have to get some baby clothing for you and dress you up properly. "One thing’s for sure…I’m taking you off the market so I can have you all to myself,” she said as she beamed down on my blushing face, “I have big plans for you, Chrissey.”

Chapter Three For the next three days at work, Denise practically ignored me. Once, when I tried to talk with her alone in the hallway, she simply brushed me aside and said she was “busy”. I couldn’t understand it. What had I done wrong? Had I not submitted to her completely that first night? Despite my shock at discovering her anatomy, I still found her incredibly sexy. She still had that gorgeous model-esque face and the big boobs to die for. Every time I thought of suckling from her hard nipples, I swooned. All week after the night at her house, my heart was doing somersaults–that a woman so totally out of my league would be interested in me, just blew me away. But then, I also couldn’t understand why was she so cool with me at work. It hurt my feelings that she made no acknowledgment of what had happened between us and yet, I couldn’t get her off my mind. I worked at my counter, constantly daydreaming about her. Every time she walked into the room, my heart stopped beating and my eyes followed her every move. The other issue was, I was beside myself with horniness. I had never gone more than a couple days without being able to masturbate freely and this chastity device of hers was killing me! I had tried everything I could to remove it but it’s design was devilishly made to prevent any kind of escape. I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, my nighttime erections becoming a source of pain I never thought possible. I found that if I got up and walked around, the budding erection and the associated discomfort would subside, but it was still tremendously frustrating. I made a vow to demand Denise remove the device the very next time we were alone. On the other hand, my social standing at the bank had gone up considerably since the party. All the guys thought I was some kind of stud and even the cool ones who never talked to me looked at me in a whole new light. If only they knew I had been on my knees that night, swallowing load after creamy load of Denise’s semen! I tried to block out that experience but the fact was, I was so horny all the time now, I was willing to put that aspect of her aside. In the big scheme of things, I rationalized that it just wasn’t that important. But regardless, I didn’t think it was fair for her to ignore me and leave me locked up like this. Finally, on Friday, I found a brief note left at my counter station along with a stack of checks. It said; ‘Be at my place 9 pm sharp–Denise’. I sighed and held the note to my chest, smiling to myself. She did care about me after all. That night, after a fresh shower and a change into my best shirt and slacks, I showed up Denise’s door with a bouquet of flowers, precisely at 9 pm on the dot. When the door opened, my heart stopped and I was momentarily breathless. She looking absolutely ravishing with her long black hair falling in curls over her bare shoulders and a dark red lipstick on her sensuous lips. Once again, I was struck by the difference between her attire at work and how she looked when outside of it. She was wearing a black Lycra bustier with a matching skirt and of course, her usual sexy high heels. Around her neck, she wore a thin gold necklace with the key to my chastity device on it, as if taunting me with my freedom. She gave me a coy smile and then reached down, gently holding my face and planting a long, erotic kiss on my lips that left me panting. “Hi Chrissey, glad you could make it,” she said with a playful wink, “The flowers are lovely.” An electric rush rippled through me. I gulped as I drank in her beauty and all the demands and frustrations of the week seemed to evaporate. I had intended to make her remove my device and complain about her ignoring me but now that I was actually face to face with her, my heart was doing cartwheels and I couldn’t find the words. I was just happy to see her smiling at me again–everything else seemed trivial by comparison. As we went inside, she turned and took me into her arms, pushing my nose into that source of nirvana, her deep cleavage. I sighed and nuzzled, happier than I could ever remember being in my life. “Did you like nursing from my boobs last time, Chrissey?” she asked softly in my ear. “Oh yes, that was awesome!” I exclaimed. “I liked it too,” she replied, “I think you’re just the sweetest little sissy I’ve ever known and for some reason, you bring out the mommy in me. "How would my baby like to go into my bedroom and nurse again?” she asked. “Oh yes–for sure!” I replied enthusiastically. Even though I didn’t like the reference to being a baby, the thought that she saw me as “hers” made my heart swell with pride and joy. Taking my hand, she led me down the hallway into her large bedroom with it’s four poster king bed. However, as walked through the threshold, I was quick to discover that she had placed several items on the bed, none of which I found welcome. A thick set of cloth diapers, baby powder, plastic pants and pins lay next to a frilly pink top of some sort. And next to that, was Denise’s fearsome Spencer paddle, ready for immediate use. My heart skipped a beat and I stopped in my tracks. “Chrissey, I want to dress you up in a cute little outfit I picked out just for you–I know you’ll just love it.” She beamed at me like she was presenting me with a new car. “B-but, I’m not a baby,” I protested in a whining voice. “Oh, I think you’re very babyish,” she immediately replied, “You have a little baby penis, you have an obvious fetish for breastfeeding, and let’s face it, you’re hardly much of a man.” Once again, her words stung me to the core. It seemed like Denise could go from one extreme to the other in the blink of an eye, from loving to cruel without a second thought. “But I don’t want to wear diapers!” I complained bitterly. The fact was, the sight of those diapers and plastic pants brought strong, unpleasant memories of my early teens flooding back, from a time when I had been a habitual bedwetter. My mom had responded by putting me in diapers and plastic pants every night and the practice continued for several years–in fact, pretty much up to the point at which I moved out. I still had the occasional accident in bed but since I had few, if any visitors over to my apartment, I never gave the problem or the associated smell much thought. And now, Denise wanted to put me back in diapers just like my mom! “I won’t do it,” I said, but my voice lacked conviction. The warm smile on Denise’s face vanished, to be replaced by an angry scowl. “What did I tell you about obeying my instructions?” she snapped as she went over and picked up the paddle, “Do I need to put you over Mommy’s lap again?” Her voice had taken on a stern edge to it, and the hair went up on the back of my neck. I gulped nervously and looked around the room in a panic. I didn’t want to blow my relationship with this beautiful babe but I didn’t want to be dressed up like a baby, or be thought of in that way. And yet, the steely determination in her pretty blue eyes as she held that hard wooden paddle in her hands made my knees weak. I held an instinctive fear of being spanked from my experiences growing up under my strict mother. And it had taken days for the bruising to go down on my bottom after my last session over Denise’s lap—I wasn’t about to do that again. “What’s it going to be, Chrissey? A hard spanking–followed by diapers…or just the diapers? It’s up to you,” she said crossing her arms across her impressive chest, her voice as hard as iron. I felt like I was being scolded by my mom all over again and my will, never very strong, crumbled before this tower of female authority. “Just-just the diapers, please,” I squeaked. “That’s better,” she said, sounding smug and superior once again. Putting the paddle down on the top of her dresser (to my vast relief), she scooped up a large pink pacifier and held it before my mouth. “Suck on this baby, while Mommy puts you into your diapers.” I whimpered weakly and reluctantly parted my lips as she pushed it in, the fat rubber nipple filling my mouth and making any kind of coherent speech impossible. “You are not to remove that under any circumstances, got it?” she demanded. I nodded my head mutely as she began undoing my pants and taking my shoes off. What had I gotten myself into? It seemed that every encounter with Denise took me deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. Her demeanor changed when my chastised penis came into view and she suddenly giggled to herself. “And how’s Chrissey’s little pee-pee doing today?” she asked in an amused, condescending tone, “Having difficulty dealing without playing with yourself everyday?” Even though it was humiliating to admit to her charge, I nodded my head, hoping the admission would grant me some leniency from her. “Better get used to it, Sissy, your days of masturbating are long gone.” I winced and gritted my teeth in frustration. As she pulled my freshly ironed shirt off of me, I wanted to ask when she planned to unlock my plastic prison but the pacifier stuffed into my mouth only garbled my words. I tried again but she just dismissed my babbling by shushing me and guiding me over to the bed. Laying me down on top of the thick stack of diapers, she squeezed some Desitin in the palm of her hand and after raising me by my ankles, began smearing it across my bottom. “The last time I saw these cute little buns, they were sporting a nice, deep shade of red,” she smirked as she set my legs down. I blushed and sucked harder on the pacifier, the entire experience bringing back waves of humiliation from my bedtime routines with my mom. Denise sprinkled my entire area with baby powder and even up on my chest, softly rubbing it in as she looked down on me and winking playfully. The fragrant scent brought back memories of weakness and inferiority in me, making me recall my childish lack of control. Drawing up the bulky, but very soft cloth, she slipped a pair of safety pins through to secure it around my hips, first one side, and then the other. “There!” she said with a flourish as she patted the fat front of my padded crotch, “All set and ready for your baby panties!” I cringed with embarrassment as she took the pink pair of waterproof pants next to me and positioned them over my feet, drawing them up my legs in a tortuously slow fashion, no doubt intended to draw out the humiliating procedure as long as possible. “How does it feel to be wearing baby pampers again, sissy?” she asked me. My face glowed red with embarrassment and I looked away. Using her perfectly manicured fingers, she slowly ran them around the elastic waistband, pulling them up and over the thick cloth surrounding me until the fluffy diapers were fully contained inside the plastic pants. With another dusting of baby powder between my legs, she put the diapering supplies away and came over to put my top on. “I don’t have much for you to wear just yet, but don’t worry, sugarplum, I’ll get you all fixed up in no time,” she assured me. The top she was putting on me was made of pink fleece, with short white puffy sleeves and a teddy bear playing with blocks decorating the chest. The hem, which was so short it barely went down to my navel, ended in a soft row of white ruffles. I felt extremely babyish and I couldn’t put my legs together due to the thickness of the diapers between my thighs. Looking up at Denise’s pretty smiling face brought on sensations of helplessness in me. And I felt that whatever control I might have had in this relationship was rapidly disappearing. Climbing onto the bed, she slowly unzipped her bustier, tantalizing me as she allowed her tremendous breasts to gradually be revealed in her sexy push-up bra. With a seductive look, she crawled over and straddled me, her magnificent bosom only inches from my face. Looking up into her stunning eyes, I felt powerless before her. Taking out the pacifier from my mouth, she put it aside and positioned her cleavage right in front of my nose. “Does baby want to nurse from Mommy’s boobs?” she asked in a musical voice. “Uh-huh,” I said weakly. My penis had expanded in it’s tube and was pushing against the end as hard as it could. If only she would let it out! “Um…D-Denise?” I ventured carefully. “Shushhh, baby,” she said as she put a finger to her lips. She undid the clasp at the front of her bra and her gigantic melons fell free like two watermelons falling out of a basket. Reaching on either side of me, she held my arms down, pinning me in place. Before I could say another word, she mashed her big left breast into my face, forcing her enormous pink nipple into my eager mouth. I wasted no time in sucking it, and it quickly became hard in my mouth. “Thaaaat’s Mommy’s baby,” she cooed. Reaching back, she began softly stroking the smooth front of my diapers, which only aggravated my arousal level, making my little imprisoned penis throb with frustration and impotence. It was maddening, not being able to do something as simple as have a normal erection! After about ten minutes, she switched over to her other breast and the sexual torment continued. I had never been so turned on in my entire life! Once again, I tried to reach up and cup her free breast but she slapped my hand away. “Sorry sissy, that’s not for you,” she told me. I mewled in frustration but continued to enjoy the engorged nipple in my mouth. After another five minutes or so, she pulled away from me without warning, bringing my breastfeeding session to an abrupt end. “Okay, that’s enough of that for today–now baby needs his ba-ba before beddie-bye,” she said. I furrowed my brow with disappointment–I didn’t want to be treated like a baby anymore, I wanted to be treated like an adult and her peer. Reaching behind her, she picked up a baby bottle with a pink top that was on her night stand and brought it over to me. “Open up, baby,” she said with that heart stopping smile. I whimpered and shook my head no. “Come on–open up, baby,” she repeated, pushing the dripping rubber nipple to my lips. When I refused to open my mouth, she slapped my bare thigh which elicited a yelp from me. As my mouth opened, I was rewarded with a fat nipple and the big bottle of warm milk. I had always detested milk, especially warm, since I considered it to be a drink only for infants. I whined and shook my hand but Denise kept the bottle to my mouth and forced me to continue to drink from it. “There, there,” she said, whispering down at me, “that’s a good baby, drink your milk like a good little boy.” It was so humiliating having to nurse from the bottle and listen to her treat me like a toddler but I had to admit it was also wonderful to be in such close proximity to such a pretty woman, and to have her fawn over me. I decided if the price of that was playing her little game, for now, then so be it. I drank the milk which seemed to make her happy, although for my part, I started to feel myself getting unexpectedly drowsy. “Tell you what, Chrissey,” she said as she beamed down at me, “If you can manage to keep your diapers dry tonight, maybe I’ll consider letting you graduate to some training panties, okay?” I nodded my head in acknowledgment. I wasn’t used to drinking anything before bedtime but it wasn’t too late yet and I could always use the bathroom before I went to sleep. The last thing I remembered as the lights faded around me was looking up over the top of the baby bottle at Denise’s smug, smiling features.

Chapter Four When I woke up, I felt somewhat disorientated and it took me a moment to get my bearings. Looking around the dimly lit room, I realized I was in Denise’s bed and I was still wearing the thick diaper she had put me in last night. And it was at that moment, that I suddenly realized I had thoroughly soaked it during the night! Oh my god–what was she going to think of me now? Of all nights to have an accident, why did it have to be the one night I spent with the hottest woman in town? I was only too familiar with the feeling of cool, clammy Birdseye cloth clinging to my hips and bottom. I had felt it every morning during my early teen years as a result of my mom putting me in diapers and plastic pants every night. Her solution, while it kept my bed dry, ensured I felt the soggy effects of my incontinence until she decided to change me. Somehow, I had to get rid of them before Denise discovered me. Slowly rolling over to see if she was awake, I came to find her right next to me in bed, naked and lying on her side, her head propped on her hand as she lay there, smiling over at me. “Did my baby sleep well?” she asked with a beautiful smile. I blushed and swallowed hard. “Um…yes, yes I did,” I replied uncertainly. I glanced around the room, trying to think of some way to get out of bed to remove the diaper before she discovered it was wet. “And was my little sugarplum able to keep her diapers dry?” I bit my lip as my face turned a bright red. “Um…ah, I um…” I stuttered. Reaching down beneath the blankets, I felt Denise’s smooth hand slip inside my diaper, revealing my wetness to her all too clearly. “Looks like Mommy has a little bedwetter on her hands,” she said with a knowing smile. “I-it-it was j-just an accident,” I stammered, afraid she would kick me out and never speak to me again. “I don’t think so, Chrissey. And I don’t think Mommy’s little baby can be trusted today without her diapers,” she told me. I shook my head, my apprehension rising as to where this was going. “Oh no–it was just an accident–I don’t know why it happened–it was just a fluke,” I tried to explain. “Now Chrissey, you and I both know it was no accident. How do I know you won’t wet your pants today at work?” I didn’t like where this was going at all. “Mm-hm, I think my little baby’s going to have to wear some diapers to work today,” she told me with a disarming smile. I shook my head and put my hands up. “Now wait…I mean, I can’t–I mean, I’m not wearing–” “–On the other hand…I can think of one way in which you could get out of it…” She was smiling coyly at me and with those devastating blue eyes, it was all I could do to resist her charm. “I’ll tell you what…all this talk of putting you in diapers is getting me hot…if you can make me cum in five minutes, I’ll let you go to work without your diapers.” Before I could respond one way or another, Denise was already rising up and she pushed me onto my back, quickly straddled my torso. “No–wait!” I squealed. She inched her way up my chest, her big, hard cock quickly closing to within inches of my face. “My phone says it’s 7:05–you have until 10 past the hour Chrissey–better get to it,” she smirked at me. “No…please,” I pleaded, “I don’t like sucking cock–” My words were interrupted as she shoved her meaty leviathan into my mouth. She was straddling me, supported by her knees as she steadied herself with her arms against the headboard of the bed. In this position, with my head backed against the pillow, I could do nothing as she face-fucked me, shoving her fat cock deep into my mouth and grinding her pelvis against my face. “Use that tongue again, Chrissey…oh…that’s it…yes, that’s better…suck it good…ohhh…that’s my little sissy…thaaaat’s Mommy’s little boy…suck that sweet cock…mmm…yes…” Her big balls were slapping my chin as the fat end of her cock pounded urgently against the back of my throat. “Ohhhh…what a good little cocksucker you are, Chrissey,” she moaned. Knowing I had an impending deadline, I tried my best to please her, despite my feelings to the contrary. I swirled my tongue along the warm, throbbing underside of her massive head, sucking and slurping as best I could. But there was only so much I could do. The pillow kept my head from moving and Denise was the one controlling her thrusts into my slobbering mouth. “Get ready, Chrissey…breakfast is coming,” she said breathlessly. I hoped it was inside the five minute deadline but it seemed like she had been pounding my face for 8 or 9 minutes already. Her cock swelled in my mouth, and she jammed it deep into my throat. “OHHHHHHHHH GODDD!” she cried, as she loudly and forcefully emptied her balls. I could feel warm globs of thick, sticky semen being blasted down my throat and I swallowed again and again. Finally, she pulled her cock out long enough to fill my mouth with one last good load before pulling it out entirely.

A white strand of cum followed the blunt tip of her cock from my mouth and I gasped for air. “Oh, that felt so good,” she said as she held her still hard cock in her hand, moving it left and right and smearing the last bit of cum across my lips. “Lick that up, Chrissey, it’s what all sissies love,” she said condescendingly. Reluctantly, I did what I was told, hoping I could get my wet diaper off and get ready for work. I reached over and picked up her phone, but to my dismay, the face read 7:15 on it. “That’s right baby…looks like someone is going to work in diapers and plastic panties today,” she said with a big smile. “Noooo,” I moaned unhappily. “Don’t worry sugarplum, I won’t make it as big as the one you’re wearing now,” she assured me. “But–how am I going to hide it?” I whined miserably. “Don’t worry, honey-bunch,” she said dismissively, “no one will see a thing, you can wear your jacket which will cover that cute bottom of yours.” Reaching down, I felt the hard object inside my diapers that was my chastity device. “Denise, when are you going to unlock my penis?” I asked her, “I haven’t been able to cum for a week now.” “If I’m going to be changing your wet diapers, you better start calling me Mommy,” she corrected me. “Okay, M-Mommy,” I said awkwardly, “When are you going to unlock my chastity device?” “Tonight, if all goes well,” she assured me as she got of bed, “I promise I will unlock you.” My spirits rose immediately. Finally, I would get some relief for my poor, aching balls! As Denise laid out a changing pad, I was already thinking of ways in which to cum. My imagination, deprived of an orgasm for so long, began working in overdrive, thinking of all the delicious ways I could cum…would she be returning the favor of oral sex for me? Maybe she would let me rub my penis between her big, beautiful boobs? Hell, even a handjob would be wonderful from this sexy babe. Denise busied herself getting the diapering supplies out and arranging them on the bed; she put a fresh diaper, baby powder, wipes, and diaper rash cream next to me. I didn’t see any plastic pants so I assumed the diapers today would be more symbolic, than for real purposes. She pulled my wet ones off and placed them in a plastic bag, using the baby wipes to clean me up. “Wow, I’ve never seen so little hair on a boy before,” she said as she wiped my pubic area, “Are you sure you’ve been through puberty yet?” I blushed and assured her vehemently that I had. “Well, this looks suits you better anyway,” she replied as she took a palm full of diaper rash cream and smeared it across my bottom cheeks. A thorough dusting of powder followed and I grew apprehensive again. “Not so much!” I complained, “Someone will smell it on me.” “Oh no, they won’t,” she disagreed, “Besides, you’ll be more comfortable this way.” In no time at all, she deftly pinned the new diaper on me which was thankfully, much thinner than last night’s, although I still had concerns that I would be able to conceal it. Turning around briefly, I thought she was done until she revealed a pair of pink nursery print plastic pants in her hands. “D-do I have to wear those too?” I asked crestfallen. “Of course, baby–what if you wet yourself today?” “I won’t do that–I promise–please don’t make me wear the pants too,” I protested. “Sorry sissy,” she said ignoring me and feeding my feet through the leg holes, “We can’t take that chance.” I felt like I was with my mom all over again, who did as she pleased, regardless of my objections. I shook my fists and whimpered with frustration. Worse yet–these waterproof pants were made of a somewhat stiffer plastic and they crinkled loudly as she drew them up my legs. “I still don’t see why I have to wear diapers during the day,” I complained bitterly. “Because I can’t trust you to keep your pants dry, sissy. Now if I hear one more word out of you, I’ll put you over my knee and warm your little bottom with my paddle.” I pouted but remained silent as she positioned the humiliating pink panties over my diaper. “Okay, stand up, Chrissey,” she instructed me. I stood up next to her and she physically turned me around, fiddling around with something at the back of the waistband of the plastic pants. “What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously. I felt the waistband getting cinched snug and a lock clicking shut. “Just making sure you don’t get any ideas about removing these during the day,” she said with a smug tone in her voice. She emphasized her statement with a smack to my diapered bottom. I gasped and craned my neck around to look. I hadn’t realized it before, but the waistband contained a small chain and Denise had just locked it closed, permanently securing the plastic pants, and therefore the diapers around me until she chose to remove them. I balled my fists and stamped my feet in frustration. I wanted to protest loudly and demand she take them off immediately but the memories of being over her lap were still fresh on my mind. She had already proven that she was physically stronger than me and I didn’t need a repeat demonstration of that fact over her lap. Instead, I gritted my teeth, rationalizing that these were acceptable sacrifices to be made for having a relationship with such a drop-dead gorgeous woman as Denise. I didn’t like it, but compared to what my love life had been a week ago, this was a thousand times better. And tonight, I was going to get to cum with her. How many other guys would have willingly paid to be in my shoes?

Chapter Five That morning at the bank, I was nervous as hell. I had done everything I could do to conceal my diapers by keeping my jacket on but the plastic pants were infuriatingly loud. Every step I took threatened to reveal my shameful secret to everyone at work. I had to walk slowly and cough to try and cover the sound of the crinkling. Even still, some of the people were giving me strange looks and I saw some of the female clerks whispering amongst each other. Were they talking about me? I couldn’t be sure. It didn’t help things that I smelled like baby powder. It was a distinct smell that would be hard to explain away, should someone ask me. It also frustrated me that Denise seemed to be distant with me again; acting cool and treating me in a perfunctory fashion. She wouldn’t return my smiles at her and what little conversation we had, was strictly professional. I sent her several text messages but she didn’t reply to any of them. About mid morning, I signed for a small package from FedEx which was addressed to her. She seemed very pleased to get it but then when I tried to stick around, she dismissed me curtly. It hurt my feelings that she could be so warm and intimate with me at her house but cold and indifferent during the time we spent at work together. I mean–I didn’t expect her to exactly throw her arms around me when I walked into the room, but why was she treating me like a total stranger? In addition, even though I had done everything I could to limit my liquid intake today, I was still fighting a strong urge to pee all morning. I was crossing my legs and fidgeting, practically dancing at my station as I dealt with bank customers. Lunch was coming up and I had been told that the management was taking everyone out, on account of the new merger. I was determined to ask Denise to unlock my plastic pants at that point and relieve some of the built up pressure. I was only an hour away from lunchtime when it all became too much to bear. All the dancing in place wasn’t going to make my urge go away and I reasoned if I just let a little out, I could hold the rest back. And maybe Denise wouldn’t even detect such a small amount of dampness anyway? Finally there was a break in the line to the tellers and I relaxed ever so slightly. I felt a stronger than expected surge suddenly empty into my diapers and I tried to cut off the flow. I stifled a sob as I realized the futility of holding back the dam. My little penis flexed weakly inside my chastity device and more and more hot pee flooded my diapers as wave after wave saturated the soft cotton cloth surrounding me. In no time at all–I felt like I was swimming in pee! My mouth was hanging open and I looked over to see Ashley, my co-worker staring at me. “Are you okay?” she asked pointedly. I blushed furiously and looked down at my checks. “Y-yes, I’m–I mean, uh, I was just daydreaming,” I stammered foolishly. Ashley’s eyebrows went up as if to say ‘whatever’ and she shook her head. Did she realize I had just soaked my diapers? My face wouldn’t stop burning as I felt the pee seeping between my legs, absorbing into the seat. I felt so babyish! I tried to stand with my feet apart but I could feel the warm wetness already upon my buns. For the moment, it appeared that I was the only one that was aware of my catastrophe, but I couldn’t stop blushing–I was so humiliated! For the next half hour, it was impossible to concentrate on my work, and I kept making mistakes with customers. “Mr. Jones!” I heard my name being called from across the room behind me and I froze in position. Turning my head around carefully, I saw Denise standing at her doorway, a serious look on her pretty face. She was wearing a silky white blouse that clung deliciously to her big breasts, a short, snug grey skirt and her stiletto heels. She looked like a goddess of justice, about to pass sentence on a weak mortal. “Come to my office,” she ordered me in a demanding voice. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ashley smirk as I walked slowly away and into my supervisor’s office. Moving past Denise, I was filled with trepidation, and she closed the door behind me. I saw my underwear laying on the top of her desk and she looked down on me, her hands on her curvy hips. “Did Mommy’s little baby wet his diapers, or is he ready for his big boy underwear again?” I felt so weak and inferior before her, unable to look up into her eyes. It was like I was five years old, all over again, being scolded by my mommy. I shuffled my feet and stared at the floor, knowing she would discover my soggy diapers, all too soon. Without waiting, she reached down the front of my pants, slid her slim fingers inside my diapers and a smile crossed her face. “Well…looks like someone isn’t quite ready to graduate to his big boy underpants, is he?” I blushed hotly and stared at the ground. “What do you say, Chrissey?” she pushed me. “I-I couldn’t hold it anymore,” I whined. “Mm-hm,” she nodded, “Just as I thought. Well, sissy boy–looks like you’ll just be wearing your wet diapers the rest of the day.” “C-can’t I get a fresh change, please?” I whined pathetically. “Nope, I didn’t bring a diaper bag with me–I didn’t realize what a big baby you were,” she countered emphatically. With that, she spun me around and slapped my diapered bottom hard, essentially dismissing me. I walked out, thoroughly ashamed and returned to my counter, my plastic pants crinkling audibly. Everyone was closing their drawers for lunch and I put my stuff away and locked up. We all met at a restaurant across the street and the employees sat among three tables. I had never felt like I was a part of their crowd but on this occasion, the guys made room for me at their table. I sat down with a humiliating squish and I prayed no one would detect the smell of pee coming from my general vicinity. It was hard to concentrate, with the saturated cloth clinging to my bottom and hugging my tiny, caged genitals. I prayed it wouldn’t leak out past my plastic pants and reveal my secret to everyone around me when I stood up. The guys were having an animated discussion amongst themselves until Denise entered the restaurant. As always, she was the center of attention whenever she entered a room. And as always, she ignored them as she sauntered over to the table where the women were seated. All eyes followed her, admiring her sexy, voluptuous body in her short pencil skirt and revealing white blouse. Her table was close enough that I could hear snatches of conversation between her and her friends but not much else. A few moments later, Jordan showed up, and Denise’s face lit up in a display of obvious joy. Jordan was a girl that had been working at the bank since before I started there. She was in her mid-twenties, slim, with long straight blonde hair. With her toned physique, beautiful face, and what many of the guys said were fake boobs, she attracted almost as much attention as Denise. The difference was she wasn’t as stand off-ish as the latter and therefore, didn’t have a reputation as an “ice queen”. Nevertheless, like all hot women, she barely knew I existed. Jordan was perhaps the only true friend that Denise had at the bank, probably because from a social status perspective, they were two of a type, and the fact is, beautiful women tend to congregate with each other. I had known that simple fact since my high school years. But the look on Denise’s face made me start to wonder if there was more to their relationship than they let on. She stood up from her seat to hug Jordan, and I couldn’t help but suspect there was more affection being shown than one would think for just two friends greeting each other. I felt a strong pang of jealousy ripple through me that someone else had Denise’s attention and it gnawed at me all through lunch. They were chatting busily between each other and occasionally, I would see Denise’s hand linger on Jordan’s toned thigh. Was there something going on between them? Was Denise attracted to Jordan sexually? I couldn’t stand the thought that I wasn’t the only sexual interest in her life. Lunch finally ended and we were the last group to get back to the bank. When I walked up to my counter, I saw our manager, Mr. Jenkins, at my station and he was facing my computer screen, although because he was blocking my view, I couldn’t see what it was he was looking at. And as I got closer, I could see a very angry look on his face. Ashley was trying to act busy, but clearly, she wanted to see what was about to happen. He saw me out of the corner of his eye and he turned to face me. “Mr. Jones? Do you have an explanation for this?” he snarled at me. Looking at the computer screen, I saw a web page for something called SpankedSissies.com and I froze in place. I blushed a deep shade of red and began stammering nervously. A trickle of pee escaped into my already very wet diapers.

Chapter Six I stood before Mr Jenkins, shocked and humiliated with his unexpected discovery. I had no idea how the website had been put on my screen or who was responsible. “N-no, Sir, I don’t know who put that there.” “This is–your station–is it not?” he demanded as his white eyebrows furrowed into a menacing V. “Y-yes sir, b-but I’m just coming back from lunch–I don’t know who put that on my screen,” I tried to explain. “I’ve been running this establishment for over thirty years…” he lectured me, “and our computers are not for the purposes of viewing porn–Do I make myself clear??” “Y-yes, Sir,” I quaked. “This will serve as a verbal warning to you, young man. If it happens again, it will be a write-up in your employee record,” he told me sternly, “Maybe you think the rules don’t apply to you around here but let me assure you that they do.” I was so scared, I felt another warm stream of pee suddenly flow into my already soggy diapers. My face, burning red with shame, blushed even deeper. I really needed this job. It was my first one out of high school and I could barely make ends meet as it was. One more late payment on my apartment and I would be out in the streets. “Y-yes, Sir,” I repeated. Ashley was staring at me and it was obvious she felt no sympathy for me at all. Mr. Jenkins stormed off, muttering something about 'sissies’ under his breath and I quickly changed the screen back to the default browser. Glancing back at Ashley, I saw her shaking her head in disapproval before returning to her work. I was at a loss to explain how the embarrassing web page had been pulled up on my screen–obviously someone had to have put it on there as a prank. But I was SO humiliated! It was bad enough to be treated like a sissy by Denise, but to advertise it like this was mortifying. I knew Ashley would be telling all her friends at her first opportunity. Now, everyone at the bank would be thinking I harbored secret, perverse fantasies of being a sissy and getting spanked. Nothing could have been farther from the truth! The rest of the day was awkward, uncomfortable, and humiliating for me. Finally, as I was walking out to my car, I got a text message from Denise. It said; If you want to get changed out of your wet pampers, come over to my place. That was first and foremost on my mind so I headed straight over. After my degrading meeting with her in her office, I was afraid she would take back her promise to unlock my poor caged penis, but on the other hand, maybe she would have mercy on me after all that had happened to me today. When I arrived, Denise ushered me in, smiling at me warmly. She was wearing a tight fitted top, and as low cut as it was, she had still unbuttoned the top two buttons. My eyes just about popped out of their sockets as I gazed lustfully at her sexy, yawning cleavage. She guided me to her room and began undressing me, removing all my clothes except for the sodden diapers. Positioning me on the changing pad, she pulled down my clinging plastic pants and unpinned the soaking wet cloth. “My my,” she commented, “My little baby really wet herself today, didn’t she?” I nodded my head, even as I blushed at her remark. “Don’t you worry, baby, I’ve got some new, thicker diapers that came in the mail today. They have nice, thick soaker pads down the center for heavy wetters like you.” I wanted to argue with her contention but I didn’t want to do anything that was going to cause her to change her mind about my chastity. I had to get it removed today. After she put the wet diapers aside, she produced a razor and some shaving cream. “You hardly have any pubic hair as it is, but I want my baby to be girly smooth down there,” she said as she removed the few strands of light hair around my package. When that was completed, she took the necklace from around her neck and unlocked the chastity device. Never had I been so happy to see my penis again! After removing all the pieces of the chastity device, my little stub was finally free. I immediately reached down to rub it but Denise slapped my hand away. “No sissy boy, I’ll take care of that for you,” she assured me. Putting some baby oil on her hands, she reached down and began gently massaging my tiny member. I sighed and relaxed, or as much as one can relax when gazing at a woman as pretty as Denise, with the most spectacular boobs on the planet. As I began breathing deeply, she paused long enough to retrieve the pacifier and she pushed it between my lips. “There you are baby, you should have something filling your mouth at all times.” I didn’t mind at all. I was willing to play baby games with her as long as I got to cum, and this one promised to be an earth shattering climax. As she continued to fondle my diminutive penis, she began a childish banter with me in her sultry, sexy voice. “Does mommy’s little baby like this? Hmm? Does my little sugarplum want mommy to keep rubbing her tiny baby pee-pee?” I blushed even as I moaned and looked into her eyes, my lust and desire making my breathing labored. “Mommy’s got a little present for her baby tonight…would you like to see it?” she asked me playfully. I nodded my head deliriously, curious as to what she might have gotten me. Taking my head in her hand, she guided it down and pushed my nose deep into her cleavage, momentarily blocking my view. I felt her slipping something around my scrotum, and pulling my balls and penis through. Suddenly very concerned, I pulled my head back and looked down. A singular, solid pink plastic ring was behind my balls and Denise was holding the other half of a new pink chastity device in her hand. “This one is a little different from the one you had on before,” she said as she held it up for my inspection, “See the spikes on the inside of the tube? Those will ensure my little baby stays nice and soft, all of the time.” My mouth fell open and the pacifier dropped onto the bed. “I-I’m n-not wearing that,” I gasped in horror. “Oh yes you are, Chrissey–this is your new chastity device and your new best friend. "You see, erections are for real men, and these spikes will make sure a sissy like you can never have one.” “B-but, you-you said you were going to unlock me today!” I croaked. “And I did,” she smiled at me, “And now you’re going to be locked back up.” “No! I’ve had enough of this!” I shouted angrily, “I’ve gone along with your weird games but this is going too far.” Denise dropped the chastity tube and quickly grasped my ankles together, abruptly swinging them upwards over my head and forcing me to put my hands out to steady myself. With her free hand, she snatched up the paddle and brought it down hard on my exposed bottom. SMACKKKK!!! I howled in pain and tried to wrest my legs free but she held me too strongly. SMACKKKK!!! SMACKKKK!!! I cried out at the top of my lungs as she continued to swat my damp, bare cheeks mercilessly. SMACKKKK!!! SMACKKKK!!! Her paddle scalded me with blistering slaps and I immediately burst into tears. Each fiery swat from her paddle made her tremendous breasts shake and jiggle within her top. Any other time, I would have found the display highly erotic but right now, all I could think about was the stinging bite of the wooden instrument of punishment in her hand. My vision became blurred as the tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. I bunched my fists and shook them as I bawled like a baby. At this moment, I hated Denise completely. I hated her for her strength, her unflinching, domineering resolve, her smug, condescending treatment, and lastly, for her incredible beauty. I wailed like a helpless toddler as she harshly paddled me with abandon. Occasionally, Denise would pull my legs even higher so she could swat my seat more effectively. I couldn’t believe how strong she was! Just when I thought she was done, she would devote her attention to the sides of my cheeks, giving them slap after biting, vengeful slap. When she was finally finished and she let my legs down, I was gasping for breath and crying hard. I couldn’t see the expression on her face clearly through the tears filling my eyes. “Now–Is Mommy’s little baby ready for her chastity device?” she asked me sternly. I nodded my head vigorously as I tried to wipe my wet face with my arm. Denise dabbed a little baby oil on my shriveled penis, rubbing it softly until she produced a little rise and then she popped it into the short pink tube. Pushing it up against the base ring, she inserted a long key and locked it shut. “There, that’s much better,” she said satisfied, “And now, it’s time I put my baby into her new bedwetter diapers.” Chapter Seven The next couple of weeks began to develop into a pattern of sorts. I was spending the night more and more over at Denise’s house and she was making sure I was diapered for bed on a regular basis. I didn’t always spend weekend days with her but when I did, she was dressing me up in ever more humiliating ways, which would always include as part of my outfit, thick, babyish diapers and plastic pants. I don’t know where she found them, but the tops she would put me in were short and frilly, often in pastel colors with ruffled or lacy puff sleeves. They usually had infantile designs on them which made me look even more like an incontinent toddler. I didn’t like it, any more than I liked having to suck her big, thick cock every morning and evening. It was a humiliating, degrading job, made more so, by her continuous litany of condescending comments and taunts. And it wasn’t made any easier by the fact I could barely stuff it into my mouth or the struggles to swallow her copious loads of warm, creamy semen, but she gave me no choice in the matter. I had never had a lot of willpower, and it seemed this relationship was only emphasizing that fact. I sometimes mused that she had picked me for precisely that reason, but to be honest, I didn’t want to dwell on it too much. The important thing was, the guys at my bank thought I was cool because I was dating the most amazing woman in town, so that was reason enough to put up with Denise’s peculiar and eccentric preferences. I had never once been the object of anyone’s envy, so this was an entirely new sensation for me. The only problem was, I hadn’t cum in two weeks and I was frantic for some kind of satisfaction. This was made worse by the fact that Denise made a point of dressing provocatively at home which had a predictable effect on my poor, caged little penis. One word from her, a button undone, or a soft caress from her hand caused my long deprived penis to grow in it’s short tube until the soft, tender head pushed into the hard, unyielding spikes inside the device. No amount of fidgeting or wrestling with my chastised package would alleviate the agony. The spikes were as cruel as they were unforgiving and I couldn’t make the pain go away unless I concentrated on mundane things like bills or taxes. But that technique only worked until the next time Denise bent down in front of me, and then the vicious cycle began all over again. I think she took an evil delight in tempting me with her sexuality, just to watch me cringe and writhe from the sharp bite of the spikes. When I asked her when she was going to release me, she always answered in vague terms like, “soon”, or “you’ll just have to be patient”. But the enforced chastity had the effect of making me so horny I was willing to do anything she asked, and no indignity was too much to bear in hopes of getting released from my penis prison. So far, I had only been put over her lap for a spanking on one occasion since the dreaded paddling the night she introduced me to the new chastity device. Still, those experiences were enough to make me never question her absolute authority over me, and I was extremely hesitant to push her any more than I dared on a topic of disagreement. There was one weekend that will stand out in my memory for it’s singular level of humiliation at her hands. The morning had started out normally (for a visit to Denise’s house anyway), with her changing me out of my wet nighttime diapers and into an outfit she had chosen for me for the day. In this case, it was a short white fleece top with a teddy bear design on the chest and short, puffy sleeves decorated in a pink nursery print. The hem, also very short, was lined with soft pink ruffles and barely extended past my navel. I wore pink ruffled anklets which matched the ruffles around the leg and waist bands of the white nursery print plastic panties covering my fat, bulging diapers. She had put me on the floor of her living room with a Disney Princess coloring book and given me instructions to fill out several pages using some crayons. I guess I must have gotten distracted because I never heard the vehicle pulling up in her front driveway. Before I knew it, Denise had walked over to the front door and opened it, allowing two workmen to stroll right into the house without any sort of warning. Looking up from my drawing, I gasped with shock as they walked in and stared down on me, the amusement plain on their gruff, unshaven faces. Denise was all smiles as she came over, acting as sultry and charming as only she could, saying, “Can I get you boys something to drink?” “Yeah, a beer would be great,” the bigger of the two grunted as he stared down on me in disdain and disbelief. I blushed a hot shade of red, as I looked into their smirking faces, only barely managing to stem the flow of panic-induced pee into my thick, embarrassing diapers. It was obvious that they had been forewarned of my appearance and equally obvious that Denise had planned this encounter specifically to humiliate me. “Oh, don’t mind Chrissey here, he just has a hard time keeping his pants dry so I had to put him back into diapers.” The burning in my cheeks spread down to my neck and chest and I gulped in abject shame. She made it sound like I had no more control than a little boy still being potty-trained! Denise sauntered out of the room, while both men’s eyes followed her every move, greedily drinking in her sexy curves. Today, she had chosen a short, bouncy skirt that barely covered her trim derriere and her strappy high heels lent her a sexy, impossible-to-ignore gait. Once around the corner, the men returned to looking down at me and I squirmed with anxiety and embarrassment. I felt like such a total sissy, my big, thick diapers, plain to see with their shiny plastic pants and babyish print. “Dude, I didn’t see a ring on her hand,” the big one told his friend, “I think I’m gonna make a move on her before we go.” I felt successive waves of humiliation, resentment, and jealously wash over me as it became obvious that they didn’t consider me in the least, a contender or competition for their lustful ambitions with Denise. They hadn’t even bothered to ask–one look at my sissy baby outfit and they assumed a woman like her would have nothing to do with a prissy boy like me. And yet, I was afraid to open my mouth and dispel their conclusion. They would only laugh and ridicule me with greater contempt. Denise returned shortly with two cold beers and she handed them over with a ravishing smile on her pretty face. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you boys,” she said in her most flirtatious voice. The big one stood up a little straighter and grinned back at her lecherously. “Well, since you asked…here is my card–that number at the bottom is my personal cell phone. You feel free to call me anytime–anytime at all, you need a man’s help in this house.” I knew the tone of his comment was a direct reference to my lack of the same and I bunched my fists in anger. Denise giggled and led them back to the end of the hallway and into a spare room while I was left to pout on the floor in frustration. To add insult to the situation, it was only then that I realized my diapers were wet–it had happened without me even realizing it! I blushed anew at my childish lack of control, but I blamed Denise for being the ultimate architect of my humiliation. This would never have happened if I had hadn’t come over to her house in the first place. When Denise came back into the living room, I angrily threw the coloring book at the wall and began shouting at her, accusing her of arranging this whole situation to deliberately humiliate me. My tantrum brought about what was becoming a predictable response. Inside of a minute, I found myself bent over her lap, diapers unpinned and pushed back, my plastic panties tangled around my ankles, as she soundly paddled me within easy earshot of the workers. Through the tears filling my eyes, I could see their blurry forms as they came out to watch the weak, diapered sissy getting his soft, bare bottom spanked hard by the oh-so-hot woman that had employed them.

Chapter Eight The line of bank customers finally began to grow shorter and I glanced up at the clock on the far wall, only to see I still had three hours left to go. I sighed heavily and looked down at the pile of work next to my computer. I was bored as hell and wanted to go home, not take checks and dispense cash to people who didn’t care if I lived or died. Across the main room, I could see Denise talking with Mr. Jenkins, our manager. One couldn’t help but notice that her blouse was super snug as always, and I could clearly make out the outlines of her sexy white push-up bra underneath. I sighed with admiration. Just last night, she had allowed me to nurse from her big nipples for a half hour before bed. She had even mashed my face between her massive breasts, practically suffocating me in her glorious, feminine embrace. My pleasant memory was interrupted by the biting sensation in my groin as my little penis grew with arousal and began pressing urgently against the sharp spikes in the tube of my chastity device. I winced painfully and shifted in place, trying in vain to alleviate the torture to my tender head. I had to stop looking at her–everything about her screamed sex and that was the one thing I couldn’t think about. Ashley came over to drop off some checks and she looked at me strangely. “Why does it always smell like baby powder over here?” she said accusingly. “I dunno,” I replied lamely as I blushed with shame. I had pleaded with Denise to use less of the fragrant smelling powder when she chose to diaper me in the mornings but she always ignored me or worse, put even more on. I always smelled like a baby’s nursery when I arrived at work and people were starting to get suspicious. I had bought some larger pants to wear but even those barely concealed the fact that I was wearing diapers and plastic pants underneath. “Here,” she said thrusting a stack of checks at me, “Sort these and Heather’s before you go today.” “Why can’t she sort her own checks?” I complained. “Because I’m giving you that job,” she quipped. Ever since Ashley had been promoted to lead teller last week, she had been lording her authority over me at every opportunity. I bit back the remark on my lips and accepted the additional workload in sullen silence. I also resented that it seemed that the women here were getting all the lucky breaks and being given positions that I should have been considered for. It wasn’t fair, and I hated being ordered around all the time. An hour later, I had to take some cash to the vault and I locked up my drawer before stepping away. I was required by our rules to notify Ashley but my ego prevented me from doing so and instead, I just walked away without saying anything. Anyway, it was only for a few minutes and I figured the other tellers could handle the few people we had in line. I went to the vault and sorted the cash, placing the notes in their appropriate sections. Taking a moment to reach down into my diapers, I reflected that they weren’t too wet and I knew from past experience I wouldn’t have any difficulty getting through the last couple of hours of work. My feelings of good nature were rudely shattered as I came back to see Ashley and Denise standing at my station, engaged in what sounded like a very serious discussion. “Wha-what’s going on?” I asked nervously. “Didn’t Mr. Jenkins tell you you weren’t allowed to look at porn on these computers?” Ashley said bluntly. I gasped as I looked down at the screen between them. Splashed across the face of the monitor was a picture of a feminine looking guy bent over and being forcibly humped from behind by some dominant, leather clad woman. The website’s name was in big pink letters across the top which read PunishedSissies.com. I blushed red and my mouth went dry. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Jones?” Denise said, her tone both accusing and overly formal with me. “I-I didn’t put that there!” I cried, “Somebody else must have put it on my screen.” The other tellers were starting to look at us and I felt a bead of sweat trickle down my temple. “No one’s been at your station since you left it,” Ashley said pointedly, “which, by the way–you failed to inform me. "This isn’t the first time, Denise.” I felt the blood rushing to my head from indignant frustration. “Is that true?” Denise asked. While I knew I had nothing to do with the website on my computer, she did have me on the rule of notifying Ashley prior to leaving my station. “Um…yes,” I muttered. “I think we are going to need to finish this discussion in my office,” Denise said gravely. My heart sank as the two of them turned and led the way, leaving me to face the stares of the rest of the staff who appeared anything but sympathetic. It was customary during disciplinary situations to have a witness present, for reasons of liability. That way, the employee couldn’t claim later that something was or wasn’t said. When we got to her office, Ashley closed the door behind me, her expression dead serious. Despite my innocence, I felt a shiver of fear go down my spine. This was all I needed. Predictably, a stream of hot pee surged into my damp diapers before I could stop it. “Have a seat,” Denise told me curtly, indicating with her pen, a chair in front. I slumped into the chair as the other two took their places across the desk from me. “Viewing porn on company computers is a serious breach of the rules,” Denise began dryly, “And you were warned about it by Mr. Jenkins himself, just two weeks ago.” “–But that wasn’t me either!” I protested bitterly. “Don’t make this worse for you than it already is,” she replied. I couldn’t believe the woman who had let me nurse from her boobs only 14 hours previous was lecturing me and putting my job in jeopardy. “Who else could have put it there?” Ashley countered, her certainty apparent. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me,” I complained, desperate now. Denise dismissed me with a wave of her meticulously manicured hand. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to document this and put it in your written record,” she informed me. My spirits sank and my shoulders sagged with defeat. Now my job was really on the line. Who was setting me up? And why? I knew I wasn’t that popular, especially with the women at the bank, who viewed me with disdain or a mild contempt. Was it Ashley? She was a logical choice, from a motive perspective. But somehow, I couldn’t imagine her bothering with something like that. I doubted she even knew about kinky fetishes like sissies and spanking–she seemed too vanilla for that. Still, she was the only one close enough to have had access to my computer… “I’ll need you to sign here,” Denise indicated on the form with her long nailed finger. It seemed so surreal and ironic–and not in a good way, that the woman of my dreams was being instrumental in the destruction of my job here at the bank. With angry silence, I snatched up the pen and scribbled my signature on the document. “You are being given your final warning, Mr. Jones,” Denise told me, “if you are found with porn sites on your computer again, you will be terminated.” My face flushed with hot shame and anger. “But I didn’t do anything!” I whined. “And I better not hear again that you are leaving your station without informing Ashley,” she added, pouring more salt on the wound, “Do you understand me?” “Yes, Ma'am,” I answered, my head hung low. “That is all. You are dismissed,” she said as she signed below mine and handed the pen to Ashley. I got up and looked over only long enough to see a look of smug satisfaction on the latter’s face. Even if my job wasn’t ruined, I knew that by this time tomorrow, my reputation would be, thanks to Ashley. Everyone would be certain I was a closet sissy that couldn’t even wait to get home to surf for the humiliating porn. I felt tears threatening to erupt and I quickly made my exit, rushing to the bathroom to hide my face from the others. There had to be some solution to stop my downward spiral, but what?

Chapter Nine For the next several days, I felt strong feelings of anger and resentment toward Denise and I went out of my way to avoid her, for what I saw was her role in betraying me at work. And yet, she seemed oblivious to my change of attitude. She kept sending me crude, dirty messages via text, like 'I want to cum in your mouth’, and 'I miss your lips around my cock’. In my anger, I simply ignored them and went about my day. To make matters worse, I was wetting the bed at home almost every night. I didn’t want to wear diapers, because they were humiliating and reminded me of Denise, but my sheets were getting stained and my bedroom was starting to smell of stale pee. I couldn’t understand why I was having such difficulty controlling my wetting and my shameful pre-teen years came back with a vengeance to haunt me. At work, I felt conflicted and confused. The first few days after my write-up, I was too angry to think about Denise but at the same time, it was also impossible to ignore her. She’d come over to my station, the key to my chastity device hanging on a small chain that dangled above the deep line of her cleavage, which, because I was so short, was nearly eye level for me. And like every other male, I couldn’t resist gazing lustfully at her big, proud breasts, barely contained within her silky white blouse. It was absolute torture! From every angle, she was magnificent to behold. And beyond my unrequited arousal, I felt, despite all my misgivings, that I was starting to fall in love with her. I knew my lack of previous relationships with women was a big weakness, because now that I had being shown some attention by someone as desirable as Denise, I was totally helpless to resist her. Every time she winked at me or smiled when no one was looking, my heart skipped a beat and I was wracked by an intense longing for her. I remained conflicted and in doubt until fate conspired to force my hand. I was working at my station during the mid morning rush when, totally unexpectedly, I suddenly felt the front of my pants getting warm and wet. I gasped in horror as I looked down to see a big wet spot forming in my slacks. I was able to stop the flow, but to my dismay, the damage was done. There was no way I was going to be able to hide the accident–I was going to have to leave and go home to take care of it. And I knew the only person that was able to approve something like that, was Denise. For the next ten minutes, I stood as close to the counter as I could to hide the evidence, cursing my lack of control and hating the fact that I was going to have to go crawling back to Denise and beg to be allowed to leave in the middle of my shift. Not only that, it was going to be tricky just to cover the distance to her office without anyone seeing the dark spot on the front of my pants. Finally, marshaling my courage, I grabbed some papers, putting them in front of my groin, and asked Ashley if I could be excused to see Denise about a matter of importance. Did I mention that I hated sucking up to her? Fortunately, she was busy with another customer, and she dismissed me curtly with hardly a glance. I strode briskly over to Denise’s office, relieved to see that her door was open and she wasn’t with someone. I ducked inside and closed the door behind me. “Denise–I had an accident!” I blurted out in a panic. She looked up from her work and her gaze fell upon the dark patch in the front of my pants. Immediately, she burst out laughing, showing her perfect white teeth and I blushed hot red with shame. “Aww, did Mommy’s little baby wet his pants?” she asked in a syrupy voice reserved for children. I fumed and shuffled my feet, unable to reply with anything dignified. “I don’t know what happened–I just…I mean…this has never happened before,” I tried to explain. Denise looked unconvinced and she smiled back at me. “This is what happens when little sissies like you don’t wear their diapers like they’re supposed to,” she told me. I bite my lip and stared at the floor as my cheeks burned with humiliation. The last time this had happened, was when I was in the third grade, and I still cringed with shame when I recalled Ms. Taylor’s condescending treatment of me. “Um, do you think I could, um, leave to change my pants at home?” I asked tentatively. Denise crossed her slim arms over her magnificent chest in a sign of doubt. “I don’t know Chrissey…who will fill in for you while you’re gone? I can’t give special treatment to just anyone–the others might think I’m showing favoritism towards you.” “I’ll only be 20 minutes,” I pleaded desperately, “and then I’ll be right back.” Denise stood up from behind her desk and she slowly came around to stand before me. For some reason, the crisp click of her high heels on the hardwood floor seemed particularly loud in the quiet room. I looked up into her pretty blue eyes, aware that I was totally at her mercy. I felt like I were standing before Ms. Taylor again, asking to be excused from class. But there was no way I could go back out and work with my pants so obviously wet. “Well…” she began, appearing to consider an option, “I think there might be a way we can come to an understanding…” She smiled down on me coyly, as she reached down and began snaking her lacy panties down her firm, silky thighs. “On your knees, Chrissey, I think we can make some sort of arrangement.” I felt her slim hand on my shoulder pushing me down to that all-too-familiar position of subservience and I looked around me in a panic. “B-but, shouldn’t we lo-lock the door or something?” “I’ve always wanted you to suck my cock in my office,” she replied with a chuckle as she began stroking herself, “and the excitement of possibly getting caught only adds spice to the situation.” “I don’t think–I mean–” I stammered nervously. “Better work quickly, Chrissey,” she smirked as she looked down at me, her semi-hard cock in her hand, “before someone comes in for something.” In a frantic panic, I wrapped my lips around her massive tool, swirling my tongue over her warm, thick head as visions of one of our co-workers discovering us swam through my head. My cheeks flushed with shame as I imagined the look on their faces, were they to find me on my knees, slobbering on a big thick cock in my mouth. I would never live that down in a million years! I’d have to move out of town if that were to happen! Like a demon possessed, I went to work on her cock, using my hands to stroke her big, meaty shaft while my mouth sucked and slurped on the fat head. Denise moaned deeply and I knew I was having an effect on her. If only I could get her to cum quickly, I might avoid the catastrophe that she had so carelessly risked for us. My head was bobbing up and down, my saliva working overtime as my heart beat wildly within my chest. At any moment, someone could come barging in! Denise had moved her hands down to guide my head, and she slowed my frantic pace to a rhythm of her own choosing. I was impatient to get the job done, but on the other hand, experience dictated that she would cum sooner if she, rather than I, controlled the way things went. I heard voices outside the door and I nearly choked in panic. Was someone about to come in?? My cheeks blazed with flaming humiliation. Denise heard it too, and she grasped my head firmly. “Keep going cocksucker…that’s my little sissy…I’m going to make sure you get a big mouthful of cum…show me what a good little cocksucker you are…” Her humiliating remarks made me blush with shame even deeper but I had little choice but to finish the job at hand. Finally, I felt the familiar sensation of her mighty cock swelling in my mouth and she soon erupted with a barely muffled moan, choking it back so as not to let everyone outside know what was happening. She filled my mouth with warm, creamy semen which I gulped down, only to be dwarfed with a second, even bigger load. That too, I swallowed but she pulled her cock out and proceeded to spray my face with the last of her milky ejaculation. Reflexively, I moved my hands up to wipe it off but she pushed my hands away, and using her still hard cock head, she smeared her cum across my lips and face. “Lick that up, sissy boy,” she told me breathlessly. Obediently, I did as I was told and quickly rose to my feet, extremely humiliated, yet relieved we had gotten away without getting caught. “Okay, I think we can allow you to leave for a quick break to take care of your pants,” she said with a superior wink. My cheeks still burning, I hastily cleaned my face up before heading out the door.

Chapter Ten The next couple of days, I managed to keep from peeing my pants at work, although to my frustration, I was still wetting the bed at home every night. Being somewhat stubborn by nature, I refused to admit I had a problem and I simply ignored the growing smell of stale pee that greeted me every time I walked into the door of my apartment. At work, my reputation, which at one point, had risen me to the enviable status of a rock star, had now plummeted to below what it had been before I started going out with Denise. Whereas before, I had just been considered a geeky loner, now I was considered a diaper dependent sissy with a fetish for bizarre porn. What few friends I had acquired now shunned me, and all the girls looked at me like I was some sort of freak. I was still going over to Denise’s house about three times a week but she never explained what the builders had been doing there, what they were working on, or the many packages that I saw arriving in the mail when I came over. The room they had been in remained locked whenever I was around and when I asked about it, Denise merely shrugged and replied with something vague, like “it’s storage”. I was working at my teller station, anxious for the hours to pass so I could flee my humiliating work conditions when unexpectedly, I received a short and simple text message from Denise; How would Mommy’s little baby like to cum tonight? My heart skipped a beat and I snatched up my phone, punching the letters so frantically, I had to re-type it three times. After telling her of my enthusiastic agreement, she instructed me to show up at her place at 8. For the rest of the afternoon, I willingly endured the pain of the spikes in my chastity device whenever Denise came by my station teasing me with her fabulous body. I reasoned that soon enough, my little penis would be free and I would finally, at last, get the relief I needed so badly. In the back of my mind, I hoped that Denise didn’t have some trick up her sleeve but I could only hope for the best. That night, I showed up at her place, dressed in my best clothes, a suit jacket, pressed slacks and crisp collared shirt. After giving me a long and affectionate kiss, she led me through the door and took me to her bedroom. “Take off all of your clothes and fold them up neatly,” she instructed me. I was a little surprised, hoping that after having endured everything I had, that I could assume more of a conventional role with her tonight, but then, anything that got that accursed device off me sooner was fine by me. In moments, I stood before her nude from head to toe, except for the emasculating pink chastity device securely locked around my genitals. With great ceremony, Denise removed the small silver necklace she regularly wore and brought the key over to where I was waiting. I was giddy with anticipation as she bent down and undid the small titanium lock securing the device. I exhaled with relief as she removed the spiked tube and worked the cuff ring out from around my sack. Looking down, I saw that my shriveled penis had numerous red indentations from where my head would repeatedly push up against the spikes. Taking my tiny member between her fingers, she pinched it somewhat hard and giggled aloud. “Do you ever wonder if the girls at the bank know just how small you are?” she asked with amusement. I shifted my feet nervously, wondering in the back of my mind if she was subtly implying that she had already told them. I blushed crimson, the very notion that Denise would share such a humiliating and private detail of my life with them. “You-you didn’t tell them, did you?” I bleated. Denise giggled, but didn’t reply as she led me over to the bed and sat me on a waiting stack of soft, but very thick diapers. “It’s time I got my little baby dressed for this evening,” she said with a devastating smile that washed over me like a tidal wave, “I have a few items that came in the mail I’ve been just dying to dress you in.” This wasn’t really what I had in mind but as always when I was in her presence, I was helpless to deny her anything. Taking some baby oil, she began slowly massaging my little member, which quickly responded to her ministrations by becoming stiff and erect. It was embarrassing to see just how small it was, even throbbing and hard, and her running commentary only served to dampen my arousal. “Look at this tiny little baby stick,” she giggled, “Its just exactly like a little toddler’s… It’s no wonder you’re still a virgin…Did your girlfriends laugh at you when you pulled your pants down?” I tried to fight the intense blushing of my cheeks as I listened to her humiliating comments. And yet, at the same time, her soft, steady caress of my pee-pee kept it rock hard and stiff. I was at once, extremely mortified and aroused all at the same time! Dipping her middle finger into a nearby jar of Vaseline, she slowly pushed it up inside my anus, making me squeal like a little girl with surprise. “Ever had a man take you here?” she asked with a knowing smirk as she plunged it in and swirled it around. “No!” I replied hotly, angry and humiliated that she would imply such a thing. “Hmm, well, we’ll have to see about that,” she said as she pulled her finger out. I fumed in silence and looked away as she wiped her hands on a baby wipe. Taking the container of baby powder, she lifted me up by my ankles and powdered my bottom generously before lowering my legs and getting the front. “I’m going to let my little baby girl cum in her diapers tonight,” she said with a playful wink, “which is entirely appropriate, given what a big sissy you are, don’t you think?” It was so humiliating to be treated by her like this, but I didn’t want to give away my one good chance for relief by saying something that would anger her. I just had to do my best and go along with it, and besides, no one else was ever going to find out about how I had achieved my orgasm. I nodded my head in shameful silence, wishing I had the backbone to stand up to her bossy personality. Pulling the big, soft fluffy diapers up between my legs, she pinned them securely on either side of my hips. “That’s mommy’s little baby,” she praised me, “Such a good little baby girl you are.” My cheeks reddened all over again as she pulled out some nursery print, snap-on plastic pants, positioning them at my feet. “Aren’t these cute?” she asked in her syrupy voice, “They’re perfect for when baby is taking his nap and mommy needs to check his diapers. I’m sure a chronic bedwetter like you can totally appreciate that feature.” I whimpered weakly as she pulled them up my ankles and over my smooth, hairless thighs. Even though this had come to be something of a ritual for us, it was still mortifying as an adult to have her treat me like a helpless, incontinent little infant. I bit my lip with embarrassment as she fitted them up over the fat, bulky diapers, working her long nails around the waistband to make sure all the soft cotton cloth was contained inside. “What a good little girl you are,” she said again as she beeped my nose and began putting some pink lacy anklets over my feet. “Look what came in the mail for you today,” she exclaimed as she held forth a pair of white glossy Mary Janes with buckles, “These will go perfectly with the cute little Sunday school dress I’ve been waiting to put on you.” I cringed and pouted fussily as she easily put the sissy style shoes on my feet and buckled them in place. I looked down at my babyish lower half, knowing my child-like penis was buried between layers of bunny soft cotton Birdseye. Denise turned around and then brought over a pink gingham little girl’s dress, with a built in petticoat that flared out the very short hem. “Isn’t this the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen?” she gushed proudly, “It’s like it was made just for you.” I whined with protest as she forced my arms up and dropped the frilly confection down over my torso. “It even smells wonderful,” she beamed down at me, “I got that baby powder scent from a company called Eternal Essence–it’s like the perfect perfume for diapered sissies like you.” My cheeks flushed as they attained an even deeper shade of red. True to her word, the powerful scent of a baby’s nursery surrounded me and I squirmed in place with embarrassment. As she zipped up the back, she slipped a small lock into the very top, snapping it shut. “The seamstress was very thoughtful to have put a pair of eyes up here on the neckline so that it could be locked in place–that will make sure mommy’s little sissy doesn’t get any ideas about removing her dress until I say it’s time,” she said with another wink. I bunched my fists in mute frustration, helpless to prevent her from dressing me up like a little baby girl. “And last but not least,” she said grinning as she held up a pair of lacy pink panties before me, “this little ensemble wouldn’t be complete without the piece-de-resistance.” I whimpered impotently as she held them in place for me and brought them slowly up my legs, teasing me again as she did so. “If only Ashley could see you now,” she said with a chuckle, “Just think what she’d say!” I felt the blood in my cheeks expand to my ears and chest as I imagined myself standing before my co-worker, dressed in all my little girly, babyish finery. After easily slipping the stretchy panties over my fat, bulging diapers, Denise stood me up and led me over to the full length mirror against the far wall. “Take a look at yourself,” she insisted with a big smile of satisfaction on her beautiful face, “Aren’t you the most precious little baby girl that ever lived!” She stood behind me and reaching down, she squeezed the thick seat of my diapers making me squeal in my high pitched voice. “This is the real you, Chrissey…not the boy that came over tonight masquerading as a man, but a diaper-wetting sissy who belongs in baby dresses and lacy panties. "We both know that’s where you belong.” My blood felt hot on my face and chest and I bunched my fists in anger and frustration, petulantly stamping my foot on the ground. “No!” I snapped, “I do not!” Denise laughed but reached down and planted a big wet kiss on my cheek, leaving a red lipstick imprint. “This is how you’ll be dressed whenever you’re at my house, so you better get used to it.” Giggling with amusement, she turned me around and swatted my bottom, sending me back like an errant little child to a seat next to her bed. “Okay Babykins, here’s your big chance,” she said as she took a seat opposite me, “You have three minutes to cum in your diapers before I pull them down and lock your little penis back up in your chastity device.” I gasped and looked around the room, as if expecting some other solution to inexplicably present itself. “Ju-just like this?” I stammered uncertainly. “Mm-hm, just like that–just imagine you’re back at home and looking at sissy porn–do what comes natural,” she told me. “Bu-but I can’t…not with you…you know…watching,” I whined. “Better make it quick, Chrissey–the clock’s ticking,” she smirked as she gazed down at her watch. With a gulp of despair, I spread my legs and reached down and began tentatively rubbing the front of my thick diapers over the plastic panties. Secretly, I had to admit that the fluffy soft cloth felt wonderful against my newly freed penis, but it was still tremendously humiliating to fondle myself in front of Denise, who was not only my girlfriend but also my boss at work. As I began rubbing myself, powerful sensations of arousal filled my being and my breathing soon became labored. “Oh wait!” Denise said as she stood up and came over to me. Taking my pink lace panties, she yanked them down around my ankles. “There. Now you look just like the little sissy masturbator that I always knew you were.” My cheeks flushed with shame and I momentarily stopped playing myself. “Better not stop now,” she warned me, “you’ve only got two minutes left.” I gulped and renewed my efforts, rubbing the front of my plastic covered diapers with abandon. In no time, my heart was pounding in my chest and I was breathing heavily again. The soft, pillowy Birdseye material felt so incredibly wonderful against my little pencil, it was an entirely new sensation for me. Denise giggled as she crossed her legs and sat back, enjoying the view of her diapered sissy baby, frantically masturbating like a horny adolescent school girl. I looked down at the fat diapers I was rubbing, reveling in how deliciously erotic they felt, only to look up and receive the shock of my life. Denise was sitting there, snapping pictures of me with her cell phone as she chuckled with glee! “Stop that!” I cried as I rose to my feet and stormed over to her. Denise tossed her long hair out of her face with a shake of her head while holding her cell phone out of arm’s reach from me. “Is my baby saying she’s ready to be put back into her chastity device?” she asked. I shook my fists with frustration, my little boner having shrunk back down from the fear of my being exposed with such incriminating pictures. “Go ahead baby,” she taunted me, “You can sit back down and play with yourself for another minute or I can pull your diapers down and put your chastity device back on–it’s up to you.” Her smug, superior smile made me burn with resentment–I hated being so completely helpless to her will. But on the other hand, I had been so close to cumming, I was desperate to finish the deal. Sighing with defeat, I walked back over and sat down on the chair, my thick diapers forcing me to waddle. “Go ahead sissy, show mommy how her little baby likes to play with herself.” No sooner did I begin fondling my diapers again when she pulled her phone out and began taking more pictures of me. And once more, my weak will prevented me from doing anything to stop her. Instead, I rubbed myself furiously, hoping to achieve that elusive orgasm before my minute was up. I blushed with utter shame as I imagined the images she was taking of me, my panties tangled around my ankles as I spread my legs and rubbed the front of my diapers. At that moment, nothing was more important to me in the world than spraying my creamy load into the soft, welcome embrace of my babyish underwear. I was panting like a dog, my head swimming with erotic abandon. My orgasm was bubbling up, ready to explode gloriously in a shattering climax like I had never experienced in my life. My eyelids became heavy and I felt filled with euphoria–this would make all the humiliation I had suffered and endured worth it. Suddenly, Denise’s voice cut through the air, abruptly derailing the freight train of my impending orgasm. “Time’s up!” she announced, “Looks like my little sissy didn’t have to cum that bad after all.” “NOOO!” I cried, “Please De-I mean, Mommy–please just give me thirty more seconds,” I begged her piteously. She stood towering over me, her hands on her curvy hips as she looked down at me, an unsympathetic look on her pretty face. “Chrissey, I gave you more than a fair chance, and you blew it,” she said firmly, “Now we’re going to do things my way.”

Chapter Eleven Before I could respond, she grabbed a tuft of my hair and forcefully pushed me to my knees. “Time to do what you do best,” she ordered me roughly. I whimpered and protested as she yanked her panties down and pulled her skirt up to reveal a big, thick hard-on staring me in the face. Without hesitation, she shoved the fat head of her cock deep into my mouth, practically choking me. “Suck it, sissy,” she hissed. My cheeks bulged as I struggled with her titanic member filling my mouth and it muffled the panicked, girlish squeal I made. Adjusting quickly to breathing through my nose, I began moving my head up and down her meaty shaft, caressing the underside with my tongue. The tip of her head had a bead of pre-cum on it, which served to awaken my saliva glands. In no time at all, I was bobbing up and down like a cheap whore, her massive piston slick and wet with my juices. “Ohhh…that’s it…that’s my little cocksucker,” Denise moaned, “This is right where you belong…on your knees with a big cock in your mouth…” She emphasized her point by grabbing my head and slamming her fat hard-on all the way into my throat, gagging me on purpose. “MFGHHHHH!!!” I squealed, before she relaxed her grip and let me resume my rhythm. “Okay sissy,” she said throatily, “Stand up, come on–stand up,” she ordered me. Momentarily confused, my mouth was still in the shape of a big 'O’ as she popped her big cock out of my mouth and helped me back to my feet. My chin and lips were wet with saliva and I could still taste her pre-cum coating my mouth. Leading me over to the bed, she turned me around and pushed me over it, none too gently. “Stay right there,” she commanded as she yanked my plastic pants open with a flurry of snaps. “Wha-what are you gonna do?” I quivered. Without answering me, Denise unpinned my diapers and let the back fall down between my legs, although bent over as I was, my little penis was still pressed up against the thick, soft, cotton cloth in front. With her high heeled legs, she forcefully kicked my feet apart and my bare bottom was exposed and ready for punishment. “Please don’t spank me, Mommy!” I wailed pitifully, “I’ll do better next time, just give me another chance.” “Don’t worry baby, you’re getting another chance, just not the kind you were hoping for.” I watched in horror as she dipped her tremendous cock into the jar of Vaseline and then took up a position behind me. Shaking my head violently, I pleaded with her to reconsider as she flipped up the back of my dress and using her hands, spread my cheeks wide. “Oh no–oh no Mommy!” I squealed. She pushed a big dollop of Vaseline into my hole, followed by another. “Your virgin days are over, Chrissey–I’m going to pop your cherry tonight,” she said with a wicked grin. “NOO! No–please!” I wailed, “Please Mommy!” I felt the fat, warm tip of her organ pressing urgently against my small sphincter and I pinched my cheeks shut in a desperate bid to prevent her entry. “Noooo!” I cried. Reaching over, Denise picked up the oval shaped paddle on her night stand and she brought it down hard, swatting the right side of my bare bottom harshly. “OWWW!!” I howled. Using my distraction as my bottom momentarily relaxed, she pushed with determination, hard against my hole and I felt her gigantic head push past and plunge deep inside me. My eyes went wide and I gasped again in shock. Gripping the bed sheets frantically in my hands, I sobbed with defeat. Denise moved slower now, pushing her big monster deep up inside me, stretching my hole tightly like it had never been stretched in my life. It felt like she was shoving a baseball bat into my pouting rectum. “OHHHHHH!!!!” I moaned. “There…” she whispered breathlessly in my ear, “Mommy’s little baby is getting just what she needs.” I struggled to try and get away but between being bent over the bed and having her weight upon me, I was completely helpless. I moaned weakly as she ground her giant cock against me, pushing it in as far as it would go until it bottomed out. Looking up, I saw our reflection in the big mirror covering the opposite wall of her bedroom. I looked so weak and pathetic, whereas she looked powerful and strong, the very picture of feminine superiority. Here I was, wearing a little girl’s frilly Sunday dress, holding onto the bed sheets for dear life as Denise stood imperious and proud, a smug smile on her face as she slowly pumped my aching hole. “You see who’s in charge in this relationship? Not you sissy boy–I am,” she said firmly. She emphasized her point by smacking my stinging bottom cheek again with the paddle and making me cry out in pain. “OOUCHH!!” A tear trickled down my face and I groaned as I felt her plunge deep inside again. “Your job is to take my cock–however and whenever I want you to.” I let out a weak moan of defeat and acknowledgment. I couldn’t believe I was a 22 year-old virgin who’s first real sexual experience was being helplessly raped from behind. I squirmed again with all my might but she slapped my bottom and forcefully rammed her phallus deep inside me again. “UUUGHHH!” I sobbed. “So if I snap my fingers at you at work, you better make haste to my office and get on your knees. You’ll be my little bitch and suck my cock whenever it suits me.” My cheeks reddened as I pictured myself being at her beck and call, constantly at risk of being discovered I was a sissy cocksucker. Grasping my hips, she began humping me purposefully, in and out, the long thrusts of her gargantuan shaft making me whimper and moan like a weak little school girl. Looking up at our reflection in the mirror, I saw the disparity of power between us. I would never be her equal, in or out of the bedroom. She would always be the one calling the shots while I was forced to do her bidding. She held all the cards and I held…nothing. “This is what happens to weak sissies like you, Chrissey–they get bent over and ass fucked like emasculated little boys. And you’ll take it because it’s the only sex you’ll ever get,” she explained in her bossy voice. She slapped my right cheek again hard with the paddle. I howled out and struggled against her but it was hopeless. As usual, Denise had complete control over the situation, like she did with everything in her life, and she was going to make sure I got what was coming to me. Her paced changed and began to get more urgent as she dug her long nails into my bare hips and thrust her huge member harder and harder into me. I was moaning and crying, alternately slapping the bed mattress and gripping the sheets for comfort. “Does baby Chrissey need his teddy bear?” she taunted me. Her pretty face held a dark fire I’d never seen before–one of absolute power, like a lion that had cornered her prey and was about to lunge for the kill. My poor hole was being stretched so wide from the battering ram of her cock and it ached like nobody’s business. And yet, somehow, I was getting a sensation of fulfillment like I’d never had before. My own little penis was rubbing against the soft cotton cloth beneath me and the weeks of deprivation meant the stimulation in my punished anus was translating to stimulation for my penis. I was deeply ashamed to admit I was getting turned on but I couldn’t help myself. Denise pounded me relentlessly and I felt my own orgasm starting to become imminent too. I felt her big balls slapping my own as she fucked me hard and relentlessly. Looking up at her in the mirror, she looked so powerful and beautiful, a patina of fine sweat on her brow which was creased with concentration. At some point, the aching in my hole became transformed into pleasure and my head was swimming deliriously as I felt myself teetering on the edge of my climax. I looked up to see Denise closing her eyes and I felt her big tool swell inside me. Shrieking like a banshee, she plunged it all the way until it bottomed out, filling me with a warm, gooey enema. At the same time, I toppled over the edge myself, squirting my little load into the welcoming folds of my baby soft diapers. As Denise spent herself, she collapsed on top of me, her fat, hard-on still buried inside me. Both of us were breathing heavily, and she leaned into me, kissing me gently on my ear. “Well Chrissey, you’re no longer a virgin,” she whispered with a chuckle, “And you have a nice tight, sissy ass that I’m going to enjoy taking on a regular basis.” I blushed hotly and whimpered weakly in response. Now that I had cum, I became acutely aware of her shaft stretching my hole to the limit and I mewled painfully. Sensing my discomfort, Denise pulled out and I let out a tremendous sigh of relief as her slippery tool slid out of me. Turning me over, Denise lay down next to me, her finger reaching over to gently describe a line from my ear to my chin. “How did my baby like her orgasm?” she asked me sweetly. I blushed to think of how my orgasm had been achieved, not something I was ever going to be able to brag about. I also became aware or a warm river of semen oozing out of my hole, reminding me of my new status. “It-it felt good,” I confessed ashamedly, my cheeks burning a hot shade of red. It was true at least that I felt a strong sense of relief that I hadn’t had since I last masturbated some four weeks ago. Pushing me over on my back, she knelt down and gave me the most sensuous kiss I’d ever experienced in my life. I sighed happily, my feelings of affection and love for her impossible to ignore. Bending down, Denise gathered the pieces of my pink chastity device and began working the cuff ring over my genitals. “Couldn’t we…you know…leave that off?” I asked timidly. “I don’t think so, Chrissey,” she said firmly, “You’d be masturbating first thing tomorrow morning.” I gritted my teeth with resignation as she fitted the tube onto my shriveled penis and mated the pins into the corresponding holes. Slipping the lock through the central pin, she clicked it shut and put the necklace with the key back around her neck. “And now, it’s time to get my baby bedwetter dressed for beddie-bye.”

Chapter Twelve Grabbing my car keys and closing the door of my apartment behind me, I was struck by the difference in the air outside. Or rather, how different it smelled from the pungent air inside my single room dwelling being affected by my thoroughly pee-soaked and stained mattress. My wetting hadn’t abated and I was seriously thinking I would have to start wearing diapers full time for nights. I absolutely hated the idea that I had no control over something like that at the adult age of twenty-two but what was I to do? I walked the far way around the building to my car, purposely avoiding my apartment manager’s room so as to avoid her seeing me. Once again, I was late on my rent, and I was running out of excuses. Nevertheless, I was in good spirits. I had received a text message from Denise that morning that was still making me swoon with desire; I can’t wait to have you nuzzling my cleavage again. ;o) It was followed by two pink hearts. I sighed with contentment. I think I was in love. I knew Denise wasn’t perfect–she had her flaws just like anyone. But I reasoned that her good points more than made up for her down side. Yes, she had taken part in my write-up at work, and to be sure, our sexual relationship was anything but conventional. But no one else knew about that side of her and besides, where I was I ever going to find a perfect woman like her? It would never happened again as long as I lived. She was so pretty, and sexy, and awesome in every way. And when she smiled at me my heart sang with joy. I could easily forget about the many humiliations she had made me suffer through, if only to get that sign of approval from her when we were alone. I pulled into the parking lot at work and locked my car, bringing my small sack lunch along with me. I was just turning the corner of the building when I received a rude shock that froze me in place like a statue. There, against the wall, I saw Jordan and Denise, locked in a wildly passionate embrace with their mouths eagerly pressed against each other’s, French kissing amorously as if they were in a bedroom instead of a very public place. I gasped and my mouth hung open as I stared at them in disbelief. Jordan’s back was against the wall and Denise had her hands pinned against it, as if she was forcing herself on her beautiful blond friend. However, that seemed highly doubtful–Jordan’s hands soon began freely roaming over her boss’s sexy body, exploring her shapely ass and cupping her big, heavy breasts. I staggered back and tried to grapple with the enormity of what I was seeing. Obviously, the relationship between the two of them was far more developed than I had ever imagined. And just as obviously, it put my own relationship with Denise in a whole new light. My entire being was blazing with an all consuming fire of jealousy, competing with alternating emotions of anger and anxiety. How could she do this to me? I wanted to burst into tears and it was only with great difficulty that I pulled myself together. As I staggered drunkenly into the bank, I walked in a daze, my heart turning somersaults. I ignored the usual disdainful stares of my co-workers and went to my station, trying desperately to focus my mind on my job. About ten minutes later, I saw Jordan coming in, fixing her hair and makeup, her face still flushed from whatever they were doing out in the parking lot. Needless to say, she was very late by now for her shift, but I thought it extremely unlikely that anyone was going to hold her accountable for her tardiness. I glared at her with unremitting hatred and envy. She had never given me the time of day ever since she first started working here and now I had a whole new reason to resent her. For the rest of the morning, I was tormented with the vision of those two making out and it gnawed at me like tiger on my leg. My emotions surged from despair to raging anger, back to despair again. It was just so unfair that finally, after finding someone that I thought was perfect, that I should discover that she had feelings for another person. What was I to do? I wanted to break up with her, but deep down, I wasn’t sure if I had the necessary emotional fortitude to do it. I felt helpless in the grip of her attraction, unable to stand up to her or demand she treat me with respect. The fact was, I felt weak in her presence and even now, I found her very intimidating. All morning I could think of nothing else and my work suffered for it. Four times, customers complained I had given them the wrong change and once it even came to Ashley’s attention. I knew I was on thin ice with her and I struggled with difficulty to concentrate on my job. I was with an older lady and trying to deal with that transaction when I saw a previous customer come up to Ashley’s station. An exchange followed in which the lady accused me of mishandling her funds and after taking care of it, Ashley turned to face me. “Chris, what in hell are you doing today? That’s the second mistake I’ve had to deal with just this morning alone. We don’t hire people to play willy-nilly with our client’s cash.” She was scolding me and my face was getting red as people were turning to look at us. Ashley was never one to turn away from making a spectacle and this one was turning into a doozie. I feared Denise or Mr. Jenkins would overhear and feel compelled to get involved. “Don’t you realize how important the funds are that we handle here? It’s not just babysitting money to them…” Her voice trailed off as I saw her gaze look past my shoulder to the computer screen behind me. Her mouth hung open in mid sentence, registering the shock that was apparent on her face. I had no idea what she was looking at but her features darkened even further and her mouth tightened in a grim line. With mounting trepidation, I slowly turned around to look at my computer. Due to inactivity, it had gone into screensaver mode except that instead of displaying the usual moving picture of the bank logo, I was now watching a slideshow presentation of pictures of myself. My mouth dropped open as I stared in horror at my image, dressed in the pink Sunday school dress, lacy panties tangled around my ankles as I was frantically rubbing the front of my bulging, fluffy diapers. I gasped in shock as the image was replaced with a close up of the side of my face, Denise’s monster cock buried to the hilt as my cheeks bulged to accommodate her. “That-is-it!!” Ashley shrieked, “I am going to make sure you get your ass fired!” My heart was in my throat and I was stammering out an incoherent response when Denise suddenly appeared behind Ashley. “What’s going on here?” she asked suspiciously. The rest of the tellers were looking now too and several of them could plainly see the incriminating images on my screen. In an instant, it all became crystal clear to me. Denise had been behind this from the very beginning. I still wasn’t sure how she’d accomplished it, but the first night I had been at her house and heard what I thought was a camera shutter, she had been secretly her taking pictures of me. And then the blatant cell phone photos she’d taken the other night of my masturbating had obviously been intended to supplement those. I was so utterly mortified, I was on the verge of tears. My mouth was moving but I couldn’t say a thing. That was until I saw Ashley’s gaze drop down to focus on my pants. Looking down, I saw the dark wet patch increasing in size as I helplessly wet myself like an incontinent toddler. Heather, one of the other tellers, had come over to see what all the commotion was about and she shook her head disdainfully. “Looks like someone needs diapers,” she muttered. My heart was pounding wildly and I blushed red hot with shame. I would never live this down for as long as I lived! Tears tumbled down my face as Denise looked down on me like a little boy who had failed his potty training for the umpteenth time. However, her expression hardened and she crossed her arms over her big, proud bosom to address me. “Mr. Jones, it is clear that you are unprepared to handle the adult responsibilities required by this establishment. You’ve been given ample warning about your filthy porn habits and you’ve chosen to disregard them.” “–You put these on here, you bitch!” I shrieked bitterly as I wiped the tears streaming down my face. Denise slowly shook her head patronizingly and Ashley angrily pointed her manicured finger at me. “You are some kind of sick pervert and you should have been fired a long time ago!” she snapped. I was tempted to argue that the cock shown in my mouth was actually Denise’s but I knew that would never fly, short of lifting her skirt up, which would probably get me arrested, on top of being fired. My shoulders sagged in defeat as she continued to dress me down. “Effective immediately, you are terminated, Mr. Jones,” she said in her no-nonsense tone, “Please take your things and leave the building at once.” Looking around me, I saw nothing but contempt and a total lack of sympathy for me on the faces of my co-workers. I snatched up my car keys and headed for the nearest door without bothering to gather up any of my other things. The entire front of my pants were soaked and I tried to shut out the sniggering comments being made at me as I pushed through the crowd around my station. Everything was in a blur and I was going on instinct alone. I ran to my car and started it, jamming the key in and mashing the gas pedal to the floor. Swerving wildly out of the parking lot, I only narrowly missed a soccer mom and her kids in a van that was heading down the street at that moment. I drove through the streets recklessly, not caring whether I ran through stop lights or crosswalks. By some miracle, I got home without being arrested. Getting out of my car, I violently slammed the door shut and strode across the parking lot to my apartment. My anger was soon replaced by grief and shame and I hung my head in despair as my pace slowed to walk up the steps. Because I was looking at the ground, instead of where I was going, I failed to see my apartment manager waiting for me at my door. “Well, looks like you’ve had quite a day,” she sneered. Looking up, I saw her standing defiantly in front of me, a slip of paper in her hands. I had never really known Tasha, the woman who ran our apartment complex, although we had had a few brief exchanges. I knew she didn’t think much of me and of course, I resented her for that. She was about thirty-something, slim, with long brown hair and a very attractive face. In other circumstances, I might have tried flirting with her but putting aside her distaste for me, she was way out my league anyway. I was used to being treated like trash by beautiful women and Tasha was just one more example in a long line of females throughout my life. “This is your written eviction notice to vacate the premises. You have five days to clear your stuff out before I call the sheriff,” she said sternly. Walking past me, she shoved the paper in my hands and strode off without another a word. Looking down, I sighed heavily as I gazed at the harsh notification, so impersonal and final. I fumbled with my keys and opened my door. This day had gone from good, to bad, to worse and now to disastrous. I honestly couldn’t think of how things could possibly be any worse for me. I had no job, no income, no savings, no girlfriend, and now, no place to live, with nowhere to go. What in the world was I to do?? And that’s when it hit me… Denise was still holding the key to my chastity device!!

Chapter Thirteen To say I was between a rock and a hard place, was a woefully inadequate understatement. Denise was utterly and irrevocably out of my life now, and I still had no more access to my penis than I had when she was my girlfriend. My little member was still locked up tighter than Fort Knox and my chastity cage was going nowhere without getting possession of her key. The obvious thing, would have been to simply go over to her house and demand she give it back to me but I wasn’t so sure. What if she refused? Worse yet, what if she and Jordan met me at the door and simply laughed at me? I had already suffered more humiliation than a person should have to go through in one lifetime and I wasn’t prepared to endure some more. But the fact was, I had much bigger problems to deal with than that. I had one day left before I became homeless and I was no closer to being employed than I was when I had gotten sacked. Yes, I had applied at numerous places but due to the nature of my termination and the small size of our town, I was quickly finding out that I was persona non grata everywhere I tried to get a job. That, combined with the fact that I would soon be without a roof over my head, made my situation increasingly dire. I was wracking my head for a solution and I honestly had no idea whatsoever as to how to proceed. I had 24 hours in which to come up with a solid plan and every hour made me increasingly desperate. During this time, I found myself pondering what Denise was thinking about me, why she had conspired to get me fired, and why she had shown such an apparent interest in me in the first place. What was she thinking now? Did she despise me? Did she still like me? In my heart of hearts, I hoped for the latter. But I had no way of knowing without communicating with her. It wasn’t like I saw her any more on a regular basis and her texts had grown silent since I lost my job. Then again, if I was ever going to cum again, I had to face the fact that she was the only person who had the key I needed. As much as I loathed the idea, it seemed increasingly that I was going to have to make the first move and reach out to her. After considerable deliberation and much soul searching, I finally took up my phone and punched the thread that had her name on it, typing the following message; Can I call you? I must have waited a half hour before getting the courage up to send it and then I finally hit the button. The phone remained silent for several minutes. It was infuriating, sitting there waiting for an answer. I kept turning my phone on to see if maybe I’d missed a notification, only to see that nothing at all had transpired. Finally, after 56 minutes, my phone did its familiar 'bleep-ba-bleep’. I scrambled to get it and I shakily scrolled the icon over to reveal the message. Sure sissy I wasn’t sure how to take that response exactly but at least it wasn’t a flat out rejection. Nervously, I went over in my mind how I should conduct myself and what I should say. It wasn’t made any easier by the fact that she held all the cards and I had none. Finally, I tapped the icon to call her and listened to it ring. She answered after the first ring but said nothing into the phone. “H-hi, Denise,” I began uncertainly. “Hi sissy Chrissey,” she greeted me cheerfully. I breathed a small sigh of relief. That was a positive sign, albeit a humiliating one. “Umm, how-how’s it going?” I asked, for lack of anything else to say. “I’ve missed you, baby,” she told me. Despite myself, my heart surged. In that instant, I forgot all about the many things Denise had done to ruin my life and humiliate me. All I could think about was the spectacularly beautiful woman on the other end of the phone that I had fallen in love with. Before I could say something in reply, she took the initiative. “Have you missed sucking my cock?” she asked with amusement in her voice. I thought I heard another woman’s giggle in the background. Was that Jordan? My heart skipped a beat. “Are-are you with Jordan?” I asked, my voice quivering. “Mm-hm,” she replied. Although I couldn’t see her, I knew she was smiling. Once again, a massive surge of jealousy swept through me unchecked, my anger not far behind it. “How could you do this to me?” I angrily demanded, “You got me fired and now you’re cheating on me with that slut!” Denise didn’t reply immediately but her voice took on a bored tone. “Was there a point to this call?” She sounded ready to hang up. I had thought I would be able to keep my emotions in check but the presence of Jordan had unexpectedly pushed me over the edge. Nevertheless, I still had to resolve my living situation and this was my only chance, slim as it was. “I’m sorry, I just…um…I mean…” all of a sudden, I felt my emotions getting out of control and I choked up, unable to speak. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” I sobbed miserably. “What do you mean?” she asked, her interest returning. “I’m about to get evicted from my apartment!” I blubbered, barely coherent. “Awww,” she said in her honeyed voice, “You could stay with me, baby.” I wiped the tears off my face as I straightened up. “I-I could? I mean–you’d let me…live with you?” I could hardly believe my ears. “Mm-hm,” she said pleasantly. “As-as your b-boyfriend?” I stammered anxiously. “Well…not exactly as my boyfriend,” she giggled. Again, I thought I heard Jordan giggling in the background. “Wha-what do you mean?” I asked suspiciously. “If you live in my house, you’ll live by my rules,” she said firmly, “You’ll do as I say–without question.” I bit my lip nervously. “Li-like what?” I asked timidly. “We can discuss the details when you get here. But first, I have to know that you will agree without question. Otherwise, we’re through talking.” Her voice had taken on that bossy character that I knew all too well. There was zero room for discussion when she had her mind made up like this. “Do you agree or not?” she demanded. I looked around my mostly empty apartment at my ratty furniture and pee-soaked mattress. “I-I agree,” I replied. What choice did I have? Once again, she had me cornered and checkmated. “Good. Then there’s something you will have to do to show that you agree that I’m the one in charge here. "Remember that outfit I sent you home with a few weeks ago?” I cringed as I looked over at my couch and saw the white and pink ruffled fleece top laying on it. “Ye-yes,” I answered her. “I want you to put that on, along with your anklets, Mary Janes, and the biggest, thickest diapers you have. That’s how you will come over here. If I don’t see you get out of your car and walk up the driveway in that outfit, I won’t even answer the door,” she explained to me. I gulped hard as I tried to imagine how excruciatingly humiliating that would be. “Bu-but couldn’t I…couldn’t I just put that on when I got there?” I whined. “Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.” I bit my finger in angst, knowing I had little choice. It was either that, or become a homeless beggar in the streets. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way out but I couldn’t see any. I was going to have to go crawling back to her on my hands and knees, and dressed in the most humiliating way possible. I gulped in trepidation and then began trying to think of ways to justify doing it. After all, it would mean room and board, and an end to all my troubles, to say nothing of a life with a beautiful woman. The short ride over would be embarrassing, for sure, but on the other hand, I wouldn’t be seeing anyone here again anyway, I reasoned. “Okay,” I agreed quietly. “That’s 'yes Mommy’,” she corrected me. “Yes Mommy,” I quickly replied. I could hear Jordan giggling in the background. “Good. Be here by 4, I want there to be plenty of light still outside.” “Yes Mommy,” I responded submissively. “See you then, sissy,” she said before she hung up the phone. I looked down at the phone and sighed heavily. It seemed that ever since I had met Denise, humiliation and degradation had become a normal part of my life. With little else to do, I decided I might as well get this over with. I could come back for the rest of my stuff later. Walking over to the couch, I laid out three of the soft Birdseye diapers Denise had given me, along with some pins and baby powder. She had only given me one pair of plastic panties, a white nursery print with babyish characters on it. It was going to be mortifying to go out in broad daylight wearing them but if this was the price for free rent, I was going to have to do it. After arranging the cloth diapers in a thick, rectangular stack, I sat down upon them and proceeded to powder myself as I had seen Denise do so many times before. These particular diapers had an absorbent soaker section sewn down the middle and I was amazed as I pulled them up between my legs to see just how bulky they were. They spread my legs apart just like a baby’s and I blushed with the familiar sensation. Taking the pink headed diaper pins, I pushed them through the soft cloth awkwardly, unaccustomed to having to do this for myself. It took a few attempts before I got the right fit and then I was ready for the plastic panties. Holding them in my hands, I blushed again that I was willingly doing this to myself. What would people think if they were to see me? I tried not to think about it as I slid them up my legs like my usual underwear. I had to work them around the diapers which were so fat and bulky but eventually, all the fluffy, spongy cloth was contained inside the waterproof vinyl. I put the top on next, a white and pink fleece garment with short, puffy sleeves and a frilly lace hem that came down to about my navel. A diapered teddy bear amongst some building blocks decorated the chest. Very mature indeed. I went into my closet and found the white lacy anklets and glossy pink Mary Janes, idly wondering to myself where Denise found all this stuff. Sitting down, I slipped the socks and sissyish shoes on, standing up to look at myself in the mirror. Of course, I had seen myself dressed like this at Denise’s house many times, but this was the first time I had seen myself in my apartment, and more importantly, having agreed to dress in it myself. I blushed a hot red as I beheld the thickly diapered sissy looking back at me in the mirror, looking like he needed his mommy and a bottle. I swallowed hard, grabbed my car keys and headed for the door. Was I really going to do this? How many people would see me? I could only hope I would be able to run to the car and once inside, people wouldn’t really be able to pick up on just how ridiculous I looked. I was holding the doorknob in my hand, afraid to twist it open. With my heart pounding in my chest, I took a deep breath and opened the door. Looking down the second story balcony hallway, I didn’t see anyone in either direction. With my heart feeling like it was about ready to jump out of my chest, I tried to walk briskly toward the stairwell going down to the parking lot, only to discover that the extreme thickness of the diapers forced me to waddle like a baby. I went as fast as I could, bolting down the steps but then when I turned the corner, who should I find standing there before me, but Tasha! Her mouth dropped open (as did mine) and she stared incredulously at me, her gaze taking in my pink Mary Janes, baby smooth thighs devoid of hair, my thick, bulging diapers with the shiny nursery print plastic panties, and lastly, the white and pink sissy baby top. I nearly dropped my car keys but then I felt a familiar and childish sensation happening in my diapers as I suddenly flooded them in panic. “Oh-my-god,” she said in awestruck shock. Completely at a loss for words, I tried to move around her but she stepped in my way. “Whoa there, baby boy,” she said with a smirk coming to her face, “I always suspected you were some kind of weird pervert but I had no idea…” My face flushed a deep red and I felt another stream of hot pee saturate the cloth between my legs. I ducked around her and fled for my car, her raucous laughter ringing in my ears. Once again, I was making a panic stricken escape, mindless of my surroundings. Driving like a maniac, I just wanted to get to Denise’s house as fast as I could. I took the on ramp to the freeway and floored it, accelerating into the left lane as quickly as I could. Keeping my eyes forward, I ignored the cars that were slowing down or speeding up to keep pace with me and see the strange sissy in the driver’s seat. I had almost reached the exit for Denise’s street when the flashing red and blue lights suddenly caught my attention in the rear view mirror. With a sinking realization, I knew my day was just about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Chapter Fourteen As I looked with disbelief into the rear view mirror at the red and blue flashing lights closing in, my entire being surged with panic. How was I going to explain my appearance? How could my situation be any worse? I bit my lip so hard, I almost drew blood. With my heart beating wildly, I slowed the car and started pulling over to the right lanes of the freeway. Maybe, just maybe, he was after someone else. But no, he followed right behind me as I made my way over and I knew with sinking certainty that it was me he was after. My breathing was coming in short gasps and I thought I was going to hyperventilate. What would he do when he saw my sissy top and diapers? I was already blushing a deep red and I hadn’t even stopped the car. At last, I pulled off the active lane and onto the wide shoulder, shutting off the engine. The policeman had been driving a suburban and he kept the lights flashing as he got out, which had the effect of calling attention to every motorist who should happen to drive by us. I swallowed hard as I watched him walking toward me, his dark sunglasses making him look all the more menacing. The big cop rested his hand on his gun as he approached and I squirmed in my seat, only to realize I had just let out another stream of pee into my thick, fluffy diapers. Rolling down the side window, I tried to get my erratic breathing under control. The cop came alongside and looked down at me, his expression darkening as he beheld the ridiculous image of the sissy baby behind the wheel. I couldn’t read his eyes, but his look was that of contempt and displeasure. Without a word, he put both his hands on his hips and his chiseled jaw hardened. “What in god’s name are you wearing, boy?” he demanded. I swallowed hard and tried to say something but my mouth was so dry I could only stammer foolishly. “Never mind,” he cut me off in a curt tone, “Do you know why I pulled you over?” I-I-I wa-was speeding?“ I quaked, guessing the obvious. "That’s right sissy boy. Give me your license and registration.” My face flushed as I suddenly realized that in my haste to get over to Denise’s house, I had left my driver’s license in my pants pocket which was now lying on the floor of my apartment. With my hands visibly shaking, I fumbled for my car’s registration from the glove box and almost dropped it on the ground as I gave it to the stern officer. “Driver’s license,” he barked at me. I felt another stream of pee surge into my already wet diapers. “I-I-I seem to have, um, uh, forgot it,” I replied lamely. He regarded me with a fierce expression that made me cringe in fear. “Looks like your going to be taking a trip to jail today, young man,” he told me simply. I gasped in horror. There was no way I could go to jail dressed as I was–no way. “Please! Wait–please, isn’t there something–something we could do?” I was beside myself with panic. I tried to squeeze my thighs together to staunch yet another steam of terror-induced pee into my diapers. The cop looked at me long and hard without saying a word as he appeared to consider the alternatives. At last, he put his ticket book into his breast pocket and stood back a step. “Get out of the vehicle,” he ordered. With my heart threatening to jump out of my chest, I fumbled with the door handle and stepped out, the cars passing by enthusiastically honking at me as they caught sight of my babyish outfit. Looking around nervously, I followed him as he led me to the opposite side of his suburban from the traffic. He then made me face the oncoming traffic while he stood behind me. I wanted to hide behind the vehicle but he pushed me forward so I was next to the rear view bumper, ensuring everyone in the near lanes would get an unobstructed view of me as they drove by us. I blushed hotly as I stood there, every fifth or sixth car honking at me as they whizzed by. I heard him undoing his belt and unzipping his pants and wondered what exactly he had in mind. Before long, I felt the waistband along with the back of my diapers being pulled back. I squealed with surprise but the worse was yet to come. I knew I had no choice but to submit to whatever he was going to do to me and in my naivete, I thought maybe he’d just drop something down the back of my diapers. It was with mortified shock that I felt a strong stream of hot pee suddenly splashing against my lower back and into the crack between my buns as began peeing into my diaper like it was his own personal urinal. The cars passing us could probably see his head behind me but it was my full body that they saw as he slowly relieved himself into the thick, absorbent cloth inside my plastic panties. My face went a bright shade of red and I bunched my fists, stamping my feet in frustration as I stood in place, letting him do his business without any sort of interference. He must have thought me a complete weakling to stand there and do nothing. Somehow, all my previous moments of spinelessness seemed to come back to haunt me, as if to say that all my cowardice in the past had led me to this ultimate of humiliating degradations. To be sure, I was showing absolutely no backbone now or doing anything to discourage this bully. I could feel his hot pee accumulating in a deepening pool in my seat as the fluffy, soft cotton struggled to absorb it all as fast as it could. I felt the soggy warm wetness seeping in between my legs and up into the crotch of my diapers to surround my little balls and caged penis with his nasty urine. The force behind his stream was very strong and as it splattered against my lower back, I pictured he must have had quite a big cock. He kept peeing freely, emptying what must have been a very full bladder until it trickled to a halt. And then, just when I thought he was finished, he started with another equally strong stream. I sobbed with humiliation and felt my eyes filling with tears of shame. My diapers were sagging by now with the weight and I whimpered with helplessness. Who else was so totally lacking in dignity to let another man pee freely into the back of his diapers? But then, who else would have willingly put on diapers, plastic baby panties and a sissy outfit to drive around in public? Obviously, my shame had no bounds. I waited until he was finally done, and then stood there submissively as he let go of my plastic panties and slapped my thickly diapered bottom roughly as a form of dismissal. “Run along, sissy boy,” he commanded me. “Yes sir,” I whimpered in defeat. In my utter humiliation, I waddled back to my car, holding my diapers on either side to prevent them from sliding down my smooth thighs from the weight of all that pee. With a humiliating squish, I sat in my seat, the warm pee seeming to surround me completely as my snug plastic panties ensured I felt every soaking square inch of my diapers. I sniffed away the sob threatening to engulf me as I pulled back onto the freeway and slowly took the exit to Denise’s house. Needless to say, I could never tell anyone what just happened. If she asked–and I knew she would–Denise would have to be told I simply couldn’t hold it anymore and I’d peed my diapers like any other incontinent toddler.

Chapter Fifteen After my humiliating encounter with the cop, I drove much slower, and with a heightened sense of apprehension as I made my way to Denise’s neighborhood. I rebuked myself for forgetting my driver’s license–I wouldn’t be swimming in another man’s pee now if I had just been more careful and less impulsive. Earlier, I had been dreading my arrival at my former girlfriend’s house but by comparison to what I had just been through, walking up her driveway in my sissy top and exposed diapers was going to be easy. I hadn’t wanted to move too much in my seat but regardless, I couldn’t escape the cop’s warm pee surrounding me everywhere. There wasn’t one section of my diapers that wasn’t fully saturated and I felt like a toddler who couldn’t be trusted with training pants yet. I was utterly ashamed and part of me even felt like I had gotten what I deserved for my total lack of backbone and my cowardly personality. Getting out of the car, I closed the door behind me and waddled awkwardly up the paved driveway to Denise’s front door. My diapers were so heavy, they sagged under the weight and I was forced to use one hand to help support them. With my free hand, I knocked on the door and waited nervously, hoping my exposure outside would be as brief as possible. Before long, I heard the sound of Denise’s high heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she approached. The door opened wide, and I beheld my former boss for the first time since she had fired me so ignominiously at the bank earlier in the week. She was wearing a snug, form-fitting white skirt and matching crop top that clung deliciously to her big, mouthwatering breasts. In all my trauma lately, I had forgotten just how mesmerizing they were. No wonder I was willing to do anything and everything she had wanted! Her lovely long black hair spilled over her mostly bare shoulders in big curls but it did nothing to hide the deep, sexy cleavage between her big, proud breasts. Now that I stood before her, I felt foolish and weak when confronted by her power and beauty and I found myself blushing all over again. She stood well above me, her hands on her curvy hips as she looked down at me imperiously, as if I were an errant child. “Well…Did my little baby manage to keep her diapers dry for the ride over?” she asked skeptically. I squirmed and turned bright red with embarrassment. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped outside, physically turned me around to face the street, and squeezed the thick, spongy seat of my diapers. I squealed with embarrassment. “Oh my, you are absolutely soaked!” she exclaimed, “You really do need diapers, don’t you?” My face burned with shame as a neighbor across the street came out to check her mail. The woman looked across to gaze at me and I could see her eyebrow rising quizzically. “Um, can-can we go inside?” I whined. Denise answered me by swatting my seat and I stumbled forward clumsily, showing anyone who was watching who wore the real pants in this relationship. Just as I turned to go in, Jordan appeared next to Denise blocking the way, and she looked down on me, the disdain plain on her face. “Oh–it’s you,” she said by way of greeting. I squirmed awkwardly and shifted my feet, not knowing what to say. “That outfit suits you perfectly,” she remarked, “Just what I’d expect from a big sissy like you who can’t keep his pants dry.” My cheeks burned with shame as I stood before the two of them, thoroughly humiliated. And to be sure, things weren’t made any better by the fact that the thick diapers I was wearing were sopping wet, only confirming her dismal opinion of me. “Chrissey, I think you need to tell Jordan what you did,” Denise told me. Biting my lip, I looked down at the concrete walkway in front of us. I badly wanted to duck inside and hide but she was apparently going to drag this out and make me humiliate myself in front of everyone. “I-I w-wet myself,” I admitted shamefully. Jordan shook her head in disgust. “What a surprise.” “Don’t worry, Chrissey,” Denise said with a forgiving smile, “Your days of wearing pants are over. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you to your room.” Feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation, I followed them inside but not before looking over my shoulder to see if their neighbor was still there. Sure enough, the woman was still standing by her mailbox, staring at me and trying to figure out what kind of weirdo I was. I rushed inside, waddling awkwardly behind the two sexy women as they led me down the hall toward the mysterious room Denise had been having work done to previously. As the two of them went in and stepped aside, I entered and looked around in shocked amazement. It has been re-designed as a nursery, and judging by the pink and white decor, it looked like it was intended for a baby girl, albeit, a rather large one. An over-sized pink crib dominated the room, with a teddy bear nestled cozily amongst it’s Disney Princess baby blankets. Next to it, a low vinyl-covered changing table sat nearby, stacks and stacks of thick cloth diapers and other supplies ready for use along with a short chest of drawers that were open to reveal many pairs of waterproof plastic panties. My stomach buzzed with nervous anticipation. A shelf containing nursery books and baby toys was to one side and next to it, a folded playpen stood ready for use. Three sides of the room were wallpapered with designs of baby bears and building blocks while the fourth wall was covered with a mirrored set of closet doors. A warm light shone in through gauzy pink curtains over the only window on the opposite side of the room. In the far corner, stood a large pink dresser, with dolls lining the top, it’s sides decorated with more playful nursery characters. Hanging above it on a peg, I suddenly shivered as I recognized Denise’s formidable Spencer paddle, an instrument of discipline I was all too familiar with. I gasped as I took it all in. I guess I hadn’t really given too much thought as to what the conditions of my living here would be but I never imagined this! “This is where a sissy like you belongs and it’s where you’ll be spending the majority of your time, Chrissey,” Denise explained firmly, “Judging by how wet your diapers are, it’s obvious you need them 24/7 now.” My face reddened and I wanted to blurt out that most of the pee in my diapers wasn’t my doing but somehow, I didn’t think that explanation was going to do me much good. “Time to explain a few ground rules,” Denise said in her no-nonsense tone, “First, under no circumstances are you to touch your diapers. If either of us catch you doing that, you will immediately get a severe spanking. Your diapers will be changed at our discretion, either by one of us, or one of your babysitters–” “–Ba-babysitters?” I spluttered, trying to take it all in. “Yes, babysitters. We won’t always be here to watch over you so I have a number of girls in mind that will be babysitting you when we’re gone.” She saw the shock and horror registering on my face and a sly smile appeared on hers. “Oh yes, Chrissey, don’t think for one minute that when people are visiting that your diapers will remain a secret. These are your underwear from now on,” she said slapping my thickly padded bottom, “And we’ll change your wet diapers regardless of company, so you might as well get used to the idea.” I bit my lip and balled my fists as I struggled with the intense frustration, humiliation, and fear rising within me. “Second, your bedtime will be 7:30 sharp. Any bad behavior during the day and I’ll move it up to 7, or even earlier. That means you will be in your crib, diapered and locked in with the lights out by bedtime. Any whining or complaining will result in trip over my lap.” My mouth hung open again and my lips quivered as I tried to deal with what she was telling me. “Third, I’ve already told you that you are to do whatever I tell you without question. That goes for Jordan here too. She has equal authority over you and if she feels you need a spanking, she has every right to do it.” As I stood there in shock, Jordan strode over to the dresser and reached over to pick up the Spencer paddle. “And just to get things off on the right foot so you’ll see who’s boss around here, I’m going to give you a taste of how things are going to be from now on,” Jordan told me. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me. The very woman I resented and hated and had stolen my girlfriend was about to pull my diapers down and spank me! I gulped in panic and felt a fear-induced stream of pee flood into my already soggy diapers. “No-p-please,” I begged her as I put my hands up in protest. She snatched my wrist roughly and yanked me over as she took a seat on a sturdy stool that I assumed served one purpose only–one in which I was about to participate in. With grim determination, she tugged my plastic panties and heavy wet diapers down with one quick move, leaving my pink chastity device fully on display. I blushed hot red with shame as the strong smell of pee surrounded us. “Pathetic…absolutely pathetic,” she said shaking her pretty head, “And I can see why Denise locked up this tiny little thing. A sissy like you doesn’t deserve to be able to cum anyway.” Looking back up into my fear-filled eyes, she fixed me with a stern gaze. “I’ve been wanting to paddle you for a long time now, Chrissey,” she told me, “so you can be sure I’ll make this one count.” “Please don’t spank me!” I begged her shamelessly, the panic rising uncontrollably and making my knees weak. “Get over my lap,” she told me tersely. I squealed like a little girl as she yanked me over her skirted thighs, causing me to fall face forward helplessly. “Wait! Please–please don’t spank me,” I sobbed. I knew there was no escaping now and as usual, my weak nature had put me in a place where I was going to receive a painful, humiliating punishment at the hands of the very person who was my arch enemy. “By the way…I just thought you should know…” Jordan said smugly as she rubbed the fearsome paddle against my damp bottom, “Everyone at work knew you were wearing diapers–you smelled like baby powder and pee all the time and the girls used to call you 'Pamper Princess’.” I groaned with crushing shame at the realization even as I squirmed feebly on Jordan’s lap. I opened my mouth to say something but I was cut off by the harsh, biting impact of the hard wooden paddle being seared across both my tender cheeks. I gasped in pain and howled as the paddle came down again and again in quick, scalding succession. Jordan was letting loose with months of pent-up frustration and resentment and she spanked me with all her strength. I burst into tears immediately and kicked my feet as I bunched my fists and beat the floor. My wet diapers had only served to make my bottom more sensitive and I bawled with bitter indignation as each hard slap of the paddle impacted my damp, pee-soaked buns. With tears flooding my eyes, I could no longer see Denise clearly as she stood above me, but her hands were on her hips as she watched her lover soundly paddle me with impunity. It felt like a thousand wasps were stinging my blazing cheeks and I was crying like a baby, struggling to escape Jordan’s terrible retribution but her grip was like steel as she continued my excruciating punishment. Denise must have taught her well because after bringing the center of my buns to a flaming hot, cherry red, she turned her attention to the virgin sides, slapping them harshly until they glowed equally to an angry, red crimson. I prayed that she was done but then she returned to the center of my seat, repeatedly bringing the paddle down hard, delivering deep, vengeful swats right at the soft curve of my bottom where it reached my thighs. I wailed at the top of my lungs, kicking wildly as the hot tears spilled off my face to splatter on the floor while I pounded it with my fists in bitter, impotent frustration. Was this to be my fate? Being paddled like a naughty little boy whenever the mood struck them? While I had some sort of relationship with Denise (the exact nature of which I was still unsure), I could tell Jordan wouldn’t think twice about putting me over her lap for the slightest infraction. I had resented Jordan from day one and it was the worst possible fate for me to find myself under her harsh and unforgiving authority. And now–to be spanked by her! It was more than I could bear. At last, the terrible spanking was over and Jordan dumped me unceremoniously on the floor. I immediately reached around and rubbed my flaming, swollen cheeks as I cried like a baby before them. “That was only the first of many spankings you can expect from me, sissy boy,” she informed me. Denise came over and bent down to my level, smiling warmly at me in sharp contrast to Jordan. “Aww baby,” she said, her voice for once revealing her sympathy, “Come here, sugarplum.” Scooping me into her arms, I sobbed miserably as she held me to her soft, pillowy bosom in a tender, motherly embrace. “I’m sorry that was necessary but it was important for you to learn that Jordan means business when she tells you what to do,” she said in a voice for simple toddlers. I wiped my arm across my wet face and looked over to Jordan who still had the paddle in her hand, her arms crossed over her chest defiantly and an unrelenting, smug look on her face. As much as I hated and begrudged her, she was my boss now and I was going to have to respect her rule over me. Whereas before, I had been an insignificant worm to her–now, I was her bedwetting sissy baby for her to punish and humiliate as she pleased. Denise was soothing me and rubbing my head in a maternal way as she pushed my wet nose between her mammoth breasts. “Poor little sweetums,” she cooed, “Mommy needs to put her little baby back into her diapers.” I wasn’t about to resist her. I had no strength left. Choking back a sob, I let her take me over to the changing table where she laid out three thick cloth diapers. I certainly didn’t want to live the life of a little baby girl but these two gave me no choice. I pouted and continued to cry as she sat me down on the diapers but I howled out as soon as my blazing bottom came into contact with them. Denise smiled down on me again and she pushed a big, pink rubber pacifier between my quivering lips to quiet me. I found it oddly comforting and I tried not to look at Jordan who was still standing there looking superior, staring down at me with disapproval. I whimpered as Denise pinned me into my new, permanent underwear; thick, embarrassing diapers, and I tried not to think of how it would be like to be seen by everyone that came over. “Time for your baby panties, Chrissey!” she said gleefully as she positioned a pair of pink nursery print waterproof panties at my Mary Jane-clad feet. I sniffled as she worked them up my smooth legs and worked them over the bulky cloth, running her fingers around the waistband to be sure all the cloth was contained inside. Rising up, she went over to the closet and came back with a fluffy pink and white baby dress which she held before me proudly. “Is this what my little girl wants, hm?” she asked in her syrupy voice. With the fat pacifier stuffed in my mouth, I nodded submissively. “Well, don’t you worry sugarplum, 'cause Mommy bought a whole wardrobe for you, and you’re going to be just the cutest little baby girl from now on,” she said enthusiastically as she removed my fleece top and replaced it with the frilly dress. Standing me up, she stood behind me as she zipped up the back and adjusted the short hem of the girly ensemble which barely covered the top of my diapers. I cringed as I stared at our reflection in the mirror, looking like mother and baby daughter. Even without her heels, Denise was much taller than I but with her stilettos on, she practically towered over me. She stood behind me proudly, beaming with pleasure at the final result of all her careful scheming and planning. “From the first day I met you, I knew I had to make you my baby girl,” she said with her beautiful smile, “And we both know this is where you really belong, Chrissey–not trying to impersonate a man, but wearing dresses and diapers in your very own nursery like the big sissy we all know you are.” I blushed hotly from behind the fat pacifier filling my mouth at her humiliating words. Jordan stepped forward and stood next to Denise. “I think we should invite the girls from the bank so they can see the diapered sissy that used to work with them.” “Oh my god–what a great idea!” Denise agreed, clapping her hands with eagerness, “I can’t wait to tell Ashley and see the look on her face when she sees him.” Turning around to face Jordan, Denise threw her arms around her neck and planted a big, passion-filled kiss on her lips. As I watched the two of them groping each other lustfully, I seethed with mute jealousy and envy. Breaking her kiss momentarily, Denise looked into Jordan’s willing eyes but kept her arms around her. “I think we need to leave our baby to play with her toys while we have some fun of our own,” she suggested in a husky voice. “I thought you’d never ask,” Jordan grinned. The two left me standing there, locking the door behind them to prevent me from leaving or interfering with their lovemaking. I sniffled and sighed heavily, sitting down to look at the dollies and toys that had been gotten for me. Several minutes later, the rhythmic sounds of the two of them moaning could be distinctly heard from the adjoining room as I stacked my colorful building blocks. I didn’t even notice as I began wetting my soft, fluffy diapers. THE END

It was inevitable, thanks to @whiteboi-inferiority 😭

Also, this was a little less "collaboration" and a little more of @sissymissyxo bullying me until I caved.

.

@queendestiny6912

.

Nothing New

The door gave a dull thud as it swung open, followed immediately by the crinkle of thick padding shifting with every reluctant step, the scuff of sneakers against tile, and the low, embarrassed whimper of Evan’s protests as his mother half-guided, half-dragged him inside.

Evan, twenty-two and red-faced, tried to keep his head down, but the unmistakable sag in the seat of his jeans betrayed him before they even reached the sinks. A handful of women paused in their routines. Two chatting moms at the mirror glanced over mid-conversation. A college-aged girl touching up her lipstick caught the scene in the reflection and raised an eyebrow. An older lady drying her hands turned slightly, her expression calm and faintly amused.

“Mom, please!” Evan whispered, voice cracking. “Not here!! Everyone’s staring…”

His mother set the heavy diaper bag on the counter with a soft thud. She turned to him, hands on her hips, expression a familiar blend of exasperation and quiet amusement.

“Honey, it’s hardly anything they haven’t seen before.”

His face burned hotter. He tried to shrink away and disappear, but she was already steering him firmly toward the large changing table bolted to the far wall. With practiced efficiency, she unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down to his ankles, exposing the sodden, discolored disposable taped around his waist. The cartoon characters on the front had faded under the weight of multiple wettings and a heavy mess in the back.

She patted the padded table. “Up.”

Evan hesitated, hands clutching the hem of his shirt. “Mom… come on. Can’t we just go home??Please?”

Her voice dropped to that stern, no-nonsense tone. “Now, Evan. Or your bottom will be blistered too, right here in front of everyone. You think that will be any less embarrassing?”

He whimpered and climbed up awkwardly, the loud crinkle of his soaked, droopy diaper echoing off the tiles as he lay back and covered his face with both hands.

She peeled the tapes free with sharp rips. The heavy, used diaper flopped open, the smell hitting the air immediately, pungent and unmistakable. A soft murmur came from the sinks. One of the moms whispered something to her friend, who stifled a small laugh behind her hand. The college girl glanced over again, lips twitching in amusement before she returned to her phone, angling it ever so slightly towards them. The older lady rinsed her hands slowly, watching with mild interest.

“Are you embarrassed because your mother is still changing your diapers?” his mom asked sweetly, pulling out a stack of cool wipes and beginning to clean him slowly, methodically. The wipes dragged across sensitive skin, making him squirm. “Or because you’re still immature enough to earn one?”

Evan whimpered again, peeking through his fingers. “Mom… stop. Please.”

She didn’t stop. She kept wiping, folding each soiled wipe neatly before setting them in the used diaper. “Just think,” she said, finally balling up the ruined diaper into a thick, sagging bundle. “You could be off in college right now. Drinking, partying, meeting a nice girl. Going to classes, making friends, living like a normal twenty-two-year-old. But instead, you threw away all those chances. One bad decision after another. Skipping responsibilities, lying, refusing to grow up… and now here we are. Again.”

She pressed the warm, heavy dirty diaper into his hands. “Here, sweetheart. Hold this for Mommy, okay? It’s heavy, huh? No one packs their pampers quite like you now do they?”

Evan’s cheeks flamed as he clutched the soiled diaper against his chest, the plastic crinkling loudly with every shaky breath. The women at the sinks didn’t stare outright, but their glances lingered, curious, amused, and politely averted only after a beat too long.

She unfolded a fresh diaper from the bag, this one even more cartoonish than the last. Bright primary colors, smiling teddy bears holding balloons, oversized ABC blocks scattered across the front panel, and little rattling crinkles built into the padding itself. Extra-thick, absurdly bulky, clearly designed for the heaviest users who needed the most unmistakable reminder.

She slid it under him, powdered generously, and pulled the front up snug between his legs. The tapes ripped loudly as she secured them. One, two, three, four. Pulling each one tight so the waistband sat high and the cartoon print stretched prominently across his groin and hips.

“Do I need to throw away all your underwear too while we’re at it? Hm??” she continued, smoothing the front of the fresh, crinkly padding firmly. “You seem to have no trouble using diapers to their fullest potential. Honestly, Evan, if you’re going to fill these like a tottler every time we leave the house, what’s the point of pretending you’re ready for big-boy briefs?”

Evan stayed frozen on the table, clutching the heavy, used diaper, cheeks burning as his mother finished tucking in the creases and leak guards.

“Theerrre we go!” She cooed exaggeratedly, “All done!”

She pulled him upright, tapping the bulky bundle in his hands. “Now can you be a big helper for Mommy and throw away your poopy present for me?”

Evan’s eyes went wide. “B-but my pants—”

“Will go back on as soon as you do as you’re told.” She finished with a sharp, commanding tone.“

Evan whimpered, but slid off the changing table slowly. Jeans pooled around his ankles, the massive, crinkling diaper fully exposed, forcing his legs apart in a helpless waddle. He shuffled toward the door bin, soiled bundle pressed to his chest, every step a loud crinkle-crinkle-crinkle.

The college girl stared openly. The moms smirked. The older lady paused, amused.

He got within arm’s reach of the bin when his mother’s voice cut in, sharp and sweet: “Uh uh uh! Stop right there, sweetie.”

Evan froze mid-waddle.

“We can’t just toss your poopy mess in like that. It’ll stink up the whole store!! Be a good boy and grab one of these nice scented bags to put it in. Mommy’s waiting.”

The bags were all the way back at the changing table. Evan’s face flamed hotter. He turned, waddled back the full distance past the staring women again, retrieved a bag with shaking hands, and shuffled all the way back to the bin.

“Now slip your big present in, tie it up tight like I taught you, and drop it in. Nice and considerate for everyone.”

He fumbled the warm, sagging diaper into the lavender-scented bag, knotted it clumsily, and let it fall into the bin with a muffled thud.

His mother stepped up behind him, voice syrupy. “Good boy.”

She reached down and began tugging his jeans up slowly, inch by inch, over the bulky padding. The waistband strained as it fought to stretch over the high-riding crinkly pamper. “Aww, look at that! Mommy has to pull your pants up for you again, doesn’t she? Such a helpless little thing. Can’t even manage your own jeans with that big puffy bottom in the way.”

Teddy bears peeked through the stretched denim in bright patches as she worked the fabric higher. “There we go, sweetie… up over those silly bears and balloons. Isn’t it cute how they still show through? Everyone can tell exactly what kind of diaper you’re wearing, can’t they?”

She finally got the waistband seated, then slid the zipper up with deliberate slowness, tooth by tooth. “Ziiiip… all the way up! See? Mommy’s got you covered! Well…mostly covered. Still so crinkly and obvious, my big baybee boi!!”

She fastened the button with a soft snap, then gave the front a possessive pat. Crinkle-crinkle. “There! All fresh and clean and ready for the rest of the day!” She turned him around gently. “Come along, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can make it through the next couple hours, or if we’ll need to find another place to change you.”

Evan shuffled out after her, head down, thick waddle crinkling loudly with every step. The women’s faint smiles followed them out.

BJ Bib

"Mommy's on her time of the month, so guess what that means, sweetie? Yep! You get the special bib this week!

That's right, cucky! You're on sucky duty!

Awww! No pouting, princess! Don't give Mommy that lip. You knew this was cumming the second your Auntie Flo showed up, didn't you??

So pick your little head up, sweetheart. That's enough of the pity party. Pull back your piggie tails and let Mommy get this on you!

Snap

Theeerrre we gooo!! Awww!! Don't you look adorable in your wittle dwess and bibby?

Now listen close, cleanup boi: You need to put that pretty mouth to good use tonight and keep Daddy happy. You don't want him getting all fwustwated and grumpy because Mommy can't play, do you?? Noooo, you sure don't! We both know what happens when Daddy gets fwustwated, don't we?

Mmm...yea. He takes it out on your soft little sissy bum bum, doesn't he? Mhm. So you're going to be a very good helper and give him the extra sloppy toppy he deserves.

You better keep it nice and wet, baby. I want rivers of drool running down your chin the whole time. I want to see you blowing bubbles on that fat cock while you suck and slurp like the greedy little cock-warmer you are. This bib better be fucking soaked by the time he's done, do you understand me? Dripping. Heavy. Clinging to your chest like one of your wet, pissy pampers. You're going to earn every single diaper change this week with your mouth, aren't you, princess?

Open wide for Mommy. Show me that tongue. Further. Good girl. Such a pretty sight.

Now, you're going to suck it exactly like it's your favorite paci. Except… oopsie! It isn't a paci tonight, is it? Nooo… it's a big, thick, meaty ba-ba! Your special grown-up ba-ba that gives you all your yummy milkies straight from the tap and into your tummy. Mmm, that's right. You're gonna wrap those pretty painted lips around it and suckle like a good little nurser. Loud. Sloppy. I want to hear it, sweetie. I want you doing the gluck gluck like a good little cuck. Let the whole room hear how grateful you are.

You'll lick his balls and you'll even lick his asshole if he tells you to like the filthy little bib-boi you are. And when he's ready? When you hear those deep grunts, feel his thighs flex and his balls draw up tight?

You pull off just enough, open that mouth reaaally wide, stick your tongue out flat like a little pink landing strip, and you say: "Ahhh!!" You hear me?? You fucking goo-goo and ga-ga and beg for him to give you his goo goo. Nice and loud and pathetic so he knows exactly where to aim. Then you stay perfectly still while he paints your face… your tongue… and especially this pretty bib. Every hot, sticky rope belongs right here on your reward napkin.

And when he's finished? You don't wipe. You don't swallow unless I say so. You just kneel there letting it cool and dry on your skin and plastic while Mommy takes a few pictures of her pretty little helper for the scrapbook. Because this, all of this, is what good little cuckies do when Mommy's week comes.

Ohp! I think I hear him down stairs!!

The Keyholder

"Coochie-coochie-coo!! Ahh-coochie-coochie-coo!! Whose da most adorwable widdle man-baybee in da whole wide world?? Who is it?! Huh?? Who is it??"

She dangled the stupid ring of rainbow plastic keys right in front of my burning face, letting them swing like a taunting pendulum. Each jingle felt like a slap to whatever scraps of adult dignity I had left. She knew exactly how much the infantilizing tone shredded me...and she loved watching it happen.

“D'awww!! look at youuuu! Look at Mommy’s big, helpless, padded princess all squirmy and desperate in his crinkly diapee! Does my sweet baybee boy see something he wikes? Hmm? Does he?”

She swung the keys closer, letting them brush the tip of my nose before snatching them back with a playful giggle. Her eyes sparkled with pure, wicked delight.

“Ohhh nooo…is something wongg??" she gasped in mock surprise, pressing a manicured hand to her chest. "Are these not the keys you wanted, sweetie-pie? These silly, jangly baybee keys that go clickity-clack and jingle-jingle-jingle? Silly me! I thought my widdle locked-up loser only wanted pretty plastic toys to play with!” She tilted her head, batting her lashes like she was genuinely puzzled. “You’re...you're not still thinking about these big, scary metal keys Mommy’s keeping nice and warm between her boobies, are you? Because those are for real grown-up boys! Not for silly little diaper messers like you!”

I whimpered, the sound coming out high, broken, and pathetic. The real keys—the ones that could finally free my aching, denied cock—were tucked right there in her cleavage, glinting just enough to torture me. My hips twitched uselessly, my cage throbbing inside the padding in protest.

“P-please, Mommy…” I tried, but she cut me off with a theatrical gasp.

“Uh-uh-uh!" She tutted, wagging her finger "No big-boy words, princess. If you want these special keys soooo badly, you’re gonna have to earn them the only way a baybee like you can. I want the most ridiculous, drooly, adorable baybee babbles you’ve ever made. I want raspberries. I want goo-goo ga-ga’s so silly they make me laugh till I cry. I want you waving those useless little mitten paws like you’re trying to fly to the moon. I want drool running down your chin, legs kicking in the air, the whole nine yards! Show Mommy how pathetic her locked-up diaper boy can be, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll think about it.”

My face burned hotter than the sun. But the ache between my legs and the way her voice wrapped around me like warm honey made resistance impossible. I hesitated at first, clinging to my last shred of dignity, but eventually the throbbing ache in my balls won out. I lifted my mittened hands and started flapping them wildly in front of my face like a little bird.

“Goo goo! Ga ga! Ma-ma! Ba-ba-baaa!” I whimpered in the highest, most ridiculous pitch I could manage. Spit flew from my lips as I blew the wettest, longest raspberry I’d ever made—ppppppbbbbbtttt!—right into the air. Drool immediately started sliding down my chin in a shiny trail. I didn’t wipe it. Just let rain across my chin and cheeks instead.

I rolled onto my back, kicking my padded legs up high in frantic bicycle kicks. The diaper crinkled so loudly it echoed off the nursery walls. “Ah-goo! Ah-goo-goo! Pwease pwease pwease, Mommy! Bay-bee need keys! Wittle baby so hawny in his diapee! Pppppbbbbbtttt! Goo-goo-ga-ga-goo!”

In a desperate attempt to earn more performance points, I flopped over onto my tummy, shoved my face into the mat, lifted my bottom high in the air and wiggled it back and forth like a happy puppy while still babbling nonsense. “Ma-ma! Ba-ba-ba! Wuv you Mommy! Pwease keys! Pwease unlocky!! Drooly bay-bee! Cage so tight! Wahhh-wahh!!!”

When I finally looked up, panting, drooling, chest heaving, my stomach plummeted. Mommy had her phone raised the whole time. The white light shining like a bright sign to show she'd been filming the whole thing.

Mommy clapped her hands together in delighted, mocking applause, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. “Oh my goooodness gracious! Look at that wittle tushie shaking! And those silly mitten waves! Who’s Mommy’s most ridiculous, drooly, desperate little diaper dumper, huh?? Is it you? Is it youuuu? Awww, you’re making such a big mess of yourself! Look at all that drool! Look at how pathetic you look!!”

I cringed in shame, head hung low, but despite it all, I was proud of my little performance. I looked up at her hopefully, drool still dripping down my chin.

She tilted her head and her eyes danced across the ceiling, she even tapped her lip to show that she was pretending to think. "Hmm...that was pretty good..." she mused, then shrugged. “But…i'm afraid it wasn’t quite good enough, sweetie." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Not for the real keys. I think Mommy needs to see even more desperation next time.”

My heart sank. A pathetic whine escaped me, like a dog denied its treat.

“Awww, don’t cry, my precious little padded prince!” she cooed, stroking my hair with one hand while still dangling the plastic keys with the other. “Mommy’s got a special consolation prize for her brave little babbler. Here… you can try these keys instead. Go on, take them, honey. Show Mommy how you’d unlock yourself if you were a big boy.”

Before I could even process it, she reached down, popped the tapes on my diaper with two quick rips, and peeled the front down. The cool air hit me instantly. My diaper was absolutely drenched, the entire front was dark yellow and sagging heavily. And there, completely exposed, was my steel chastity cage. My balls were swollen into large, purple plums. The tip of my denied cock was pressed hard against the end of the tube, leaking a steady, humiliating ropes of clear precum that ran down the cage and soaked into the already-wet padding beneath me. It glistened obscenely under the nursery lights. I looked so completely broken, purple, throbbing, and utterly helpless.

“Awww, would you look at that leaky little mess!” Mommy cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy, then she pressed the plastic keys into my mittened hands. "Here, why dont you try to unlock yourself, sweetie! You never know...maybe one of these silly keys will actually work!" She inclined her head and gave me a firm look. One that told me I better play her little game for her amusement if I knew what was good for me. She lifted her phone again, and aimed it at me once more.

With a defeated sigh, I fumbled with the keys as much as my useless mittens would allow. Eventually, I managed to press one against the tiny lock with a clack. Nothing, of course. But I did it again anyway, more out of frustration than anything. Clack clack clack.

“Awww! Looks like that wasn’t the one…” she tsked, lips pursed in exaggerated disappointment. “Maybe try another, baby. Mommy’s rooting for you!”

I whimpered and whined pathetically as I performed another pitiful display for her. Fumbling the stupid plastic keys until i had one pressed between my mittens so I could pretend to give it an honest shot at unlocking me. Even with how futile the exercise was, my caged cock still twitched and bobbed in anticipation each time I pressed the plastic against it. Like it was too dazed to even understand. It just wanted out. But instead it had to endure this cruel torture.

Every clumsy attempt made the cage bounce and more precum ooze out in a fresh drip. I looked utterly ridiculous, drool still on my chin, soaked diaper open like a flag of surrender, mittens flapping as I poked at my own locked-up, leaking genitals.

Mommy’s giggles bubbled up brighter with every futile clack. “Ohhh, listen to that little symphony! Clack-clack-clack… drip-drip-drip… Poke-poke-poke! Look how swollen those poor balls are! So purple and tight and so full. And still nothing opens. Isn’t it just the cutest thing?? My big strong husband, reduced to drooling and leaking while he pokes his own cage with baybee toys… poor widdle guy!!"

She leaned in closer, the phone still rolling, her tone dipping into something sharper, sweeter, more cutting.

“Maybe if I hadn’t found a key to another woman’s apartment on your ring, we wouldn’t be in this little situation now, would we?? Hmm? Maybe if my husband hadn’t been sneaking around into someone else’s front door… Mommy wouldn’t have had to take away the only key that really matters. The one to your pathetic, leaky little pee-pee!”

The words landed like a slap. My stomach twisted. Heat flooded my face anew. The plastic key I’d been fumbling slipped again, landing in the sodden landscape of my diaper. My cock gave one last helpless throb, another thick rope of precum sliding free, but the shame burned hotter than the ache.

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The babbling spilled out before I could stop it. High, broken and desperate.

“Pwease… Mommy… pwease…” My voice cracked into that humiliating infantile whine, mittens flapping weakly. “Pwease… pwease open for bay-bee… I sowwy… I so sowwy… no more bad boy… just Mommy’s bay-bee… pwease unlocky… pwease pwease pwease…”

The words tumbled faster, wet and garbled around the drool still coating my chin. “Goo goo… ma-ma… bay-bee need keys… weal keys… no more secwets… pwease Mommy… I be good… I be good widdle bay-bee fowevew… pppbbbttt… pwease open cage… pwease…”

I kept poking anyway. Clack, clack, clack. Each useless jab punctuated by another whimper, another plea, another fresh drip. The mittens slapped against my thighs, the keys kept sliding, and my whole body shook with the effort of debasing myself further, trying to erase what I’d done with sheer, ridiculous surrender.

Mommy’s smile widened, slow and satisfied, like she’d been waiting for exactly this collapse.

“That’s it, princess,” she cooed softly, almost tenderly. “Let it all out. Tell Mommy how sorry you are. Keep babbling, keep leaking, keep poking like the pathetic little diaper boy you are. Show the camera what real remorse looks like.”

I didn’t stop. The words kept coming. Goo goo's, pweases, sowwy's, ma-ma's, all mixed with wet raspberries and broken sobs, until finally the last key slipped from my useless mittens and clattered onto my wet, throbbing balls with a final, pathetic tinkle.

She tapped the screen her phone a few times, and I heard the unmistakable swoosh of a message being sent.

“We’ll see what my girlfriends decide. Maybe they will think your pathetic little baybee babble and apology is enough” she said sweetly. “Or maybe your little followers on Tumblr will have mercy on you. But judging by the last few polls… I wouldn’t get your hopes up, princess.”

She snapped the same cold, wet diaper back up tight over my still-leaking, still-throbbing cage with a few rips and crackly crinkles. "But until then..." she scooped the plastic keys back up, going right back to giggling and cooing once more.

Look What I Found

I was in the middle of scrolling on my phone when Vicky, my stepmom, walked into the living room. She had a cold, calculated look on her face. She stood over me for a long moment, close enough that I could smell her perfume. Too close. Uncomfortably close. She held my gaze without blinking as she slowly sat down on the couch across from me. Then she let the silence stretch, thick and heavy, until I started to squirm.

After what felt like forever, she finally spoke. Her voice was casual, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.

“I was in your room earlier today.”

A lump formed in my throat. That was never good. I didn’t like anyone in my personal space, and there was one very specific reason why.

I tried to play it cool, clearing my throat. “Oh yeah? What for?”

“I figured I would change your sheets for you” she said. “God knows you haven't done it in months.”

My stomach dropped.

“And you want to know what I found?” She reached between the couch cushions like she had planned this moment perfectly. My heart pounded as she slowly pulled out the crinkly padding and unfurled it. She held it aloft with two fingers, right in front of my face.

“You see this, Evan?” Vicky said, her tone flat and accusatory, eyes locked directly on mine. “That's a diaper.”

My throat felt like it was closing. My mouth went completely dry as she dangled the little pamper, the bright Clifford the Big Red Dog print facing me like it was laughing at me.

“So tell me…" she continued. Her voice was cold and measured, with just the faintest hint of dark amusement. "Why does a twenty-two-year-old grown man have a diaper hidden in his room?”

“I… it's not mine!!” I stammered, my face already burning.

She stared at me for a long time, watching me squirm. “Oh really? Well then, whose is it, Evan? Did you have a baby without my knowledge?” She scoffed softly at that. “Haha...no, I don't think that's it. Because that would require you actually fucking a woman now, would it not? You've never had a girlfriend, have you? Never brought anyone home. Never even mentioned going on dates. At twenty-two, still living at home, still acting like a little boy who can't handle real adult responsibilities.”

She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping. “You're still a virgin, aren’t you, Evan?”

My face flushed bright red, giving her the answer she already knew.

“So I'm going to ask you again..." she said, "why there a diaper in your room?”

“S-someone must have left it there or—”

“Oh, you can do better than that,” she tutted, shaking her head. “Are you having accidents at night? Is that it? Do we need to get you some plastic sheets because you’re a little bed wetter?”

“I… no. It’s not that at all!”

“Honey… I’ve heard all kinds of noises coming from your room. Crinkles and whimpers and the most pathetic little sounds.”

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. She sat there, perfectly composed, the childish diaper still held in plain view, waiting for me to break.

Finally, she sighed. A calculated, patient sound.

“Stand up.”

I hesitated. “What?”

“Stand up and drop your pants.”

My eyes widened in shock. “B-but y-you're my stepmom! I can't just—”

“I said drop your pants.” she repeated, her voice firm and ice-cold, leaving zero room for negotiation.

I don’t know what made me obey, but I found myself rising from the couch. My hands shook as I fiddled with my belt and pushed my pants down to my ankles.

“Boxers too,” she said calmly.

I protested weakly, but her face remained resolute. She even raised one eyebrow in silent threat.

I hooked my thumbs into my boxers and slid them down.

There it was. My cock stood straight out, rock-hard and betraying me completely. It twitched visibly, the tip glistening with a thick bead of pre-cum that threatened to drip.

Vicky’s cold expression finally cracked into a wide, delighted, almost hysterical smile. She looked genuinely thrilled, like she'd just won a bet with herself.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, a soft laugh escaping. “Look at that! You're one of those diaper boys, aren't you?? One of those pathetic little pervs who gets hard just thinking about wearing pampers!”

I moved to cover myself, mortified. “No, wait, it’s is not—”

"Don't!" She snapped sharply. "There's the evidence, right there! Your tiny little three-inch thing, leaking and twitching like it's having a seizure. No point in lying when your pathetic baybee dick is giving you away so obviously.”

She stood up slowly, still holding the diaper, and stepped closer until she was only a foot away. Her presence felt overwhelming.

“You've been fantasizing about this for a long time, haven't you?” Her voice dropped lower, still calm but now laced with mocking amusement. “Hiding your diapers, sneaking around, probably jerking off while imagining yourself taped up like a big helpless wittle baybee. Well, congratulations. Your little secret is out!”

I tried desperately to explain. “It’s not like that! I don't!! It is just—”

“Oh please...” She interrupted, gesturing at my throbbing, leaking cock with the diaper still in her other hand. “It's practically begging for this!”

I tried one last desperate explanation, voice cracking. “Vicky, please… I swear it’s not what you think!! I can stop—”

“Stop?” She laughed again, colder this time. “Oh, honey. You’re not stopping anything. This is what you want, deep down. And now it’s what you’re going to get. From tonight onward, you’re wearing diapers. Every single day. No more big-boy underwear in this house. No more pretending you’re anything other than a 22-year-old diaper-dependent little boy.”

She reached out and gave my hard, leaking cock a single, patronizing flick with her fingertip, making it bounce humiliatingly. She smirked, then leaned over, holding the diaper open. The inside was already crusty and stained from...previous use. “Step in.”

I whimpered, but still obeyed. My legs shaking as I aimed my feet through the leg holes. She worked the thick, undersized padding up around my waist and re-taped it snugly into place. It was clearly too small. The cartoon Clifford print stretched tight across my hips, and my hard cock made a ridiculous, obvious bulge in the front.

“There we gooo!” she cooed, sitting back with a satisfied smile. “Much better! Isn’t this what you wanted??”

I said nothing, face on fire as she leaned back and crossed her legs.

“Now..." she said, taking a sip of her drink, "show me what you do in them.”

I blinked at her, jaw slack. “Wh-what?”

“You heard me. I know you’re not wearing them for protection. So show me exactly what it is you do when they’re on.”

I stood there frozen, the too-small Clifford diaper crinkling with every tiny shift of my weight. My face burned hotter than ever. “Vicky… I can’t. Not… not right here in front of you. Please.”

She raised one eyebrow, that cold, amused smile playing on her lips. “You can, and you will. You’ve been doing it in secret for who knows how long. Now you’re going to do it right here where I can see. Don’t make me ask again, Evan.”

My hands trembled at my sides. The thick padding felt ridiculous around my waist, the cartoon print stretched tight over my hips, my hard cock straining obviously against the front. I wanted to sink into the floor. But the way she was looking at me with that patient, unyielding, slightly entertained gaze left me no escape.

Humiliated beyond words, I finally pressed my palm against the front of the diaper.

The thick padding gave slightly under my hand. I started rubbing in slow, hesitant circles, kneading the padded material against my pulsing three-inch cock.

The loud crinkling immediately filled the room. Every small movement made the plastic rustle obscenely. The sound was impossible to ignore. It echoed off the walls, constant and humiliating, announcing exactly what I was doing.

I closed my eyes tight so I wouldn’t have to see her staring at me in amusement. The plastic rustled louder with every stroke. Shame burned through me, but it only made me grind harder. My hips started to buck. Soft, pathetic whimpers slipped out despite my best efforts. The diaper felt warm and restrictive, every crinkle reminding me how ridiculous I looked, humping my own hand through a tiny diaper right in front of my stepmom.

It didn’t take long. My legs began to tremble. My breathing turned ragged. I let out a choked moan as my whole body spasmed. I came hard inside the already-stained padding, adding fresh sticky shame to the crusty interior. My knees nearly buckled from the intensity.

When it finally ended, I stood there panting, face burning.

Vicky smiled. She leaned forward, slipped a finger into the front waistband, and peered inside. She grinned at the sight of my mess.

“Quite the little load in there,” she said, letting the waistband snap back against my skin.

I didn’t know what to say. I’d never felt more humiliated… and turned on… in my life. But the post-nut clarity was already hitting hard.

“Do you usually wet them?” she asked.

I nodded weakly, voice barely a whisper. “Y-yes…”

“And do you poop in them?”

“No,” I said. That was one line I’d never crossed.

She smiled slowly. “You will.”

She let that hang in the air for a long moment.

“Now, I want you to go grab all of your underwear,” she continued. “Then I want you to get the scissors.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because I’m going to watch while you cut them all to pieces. Every last pair.”

“But…”

“This is what you wanted, sweetie. So this is exactly what you’re going to get.”

She stood up and picked up her purse.

Under Their Nose

Cody lay on his back atop the oversized changing table, his legs hoisted high in the air by his step-sister Sofía. She pinched her nose between two fingers and made a dramatic show of turning her head and gagging, but still manage to giggle at his shame all the same.

“Ewwww gross!!! Mom! He stinks! What the hell have you been feeding him?”

“You should know,” his step-mother Isabel replied matter-of-factly. “You’re the one on bottle and highchair duty.”

Sofía blinked, then laughed. “Oh, right. This must be the result of the bottle from yesterday, huh? Banana rice cereal and prune concentrate? Guess it worked.”

She gave the seat of his swollen diaper a firm, squelchy pat. “Yup. Definitely worked.”

Cody whimpered behind his pacifier, face blazing. He hated how easily she could talk to him like that. Like this was all a game. Like he was beneath even her mockery.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Just a few months ago, Cody had been a free–if slightly aimless–22 year old guy. Drifting between jobs, spending too much time gaming, and occasionally mouthing off to his newly blended family. His step-sister Sofía had just moved back home after college, and Isabel, his father’s new wife, had become the de facto authority in the house once his dad took a job overseas.

Cody hadn’t respected her. That was his first mistake.

It didn’t happen all at once. At first, it was just new rules — curfews, scheduled chores, phone checks. Isabel called it structure. Cody called it controlling. But when he started skipping job interviews, sneaking out at night, lying about who he was with, she didn’t argue. She watched. Quietly, patiently. And then one morning, the bathroom was locked. His clothes were gone. In their place: a stack of folded diapers and a note that read, “Actions have consequences. Let’s try again.” There was no shouting, no second warning — just a new reality, imposed with the same calm finality she used for everything else.

Now, several months later, Cody lay back on the padded changing table, legs lifted high and held firmly in place by Sofía’s perfectly manicured hands. She let out a groan of exaggerated disgust, her nose wrinkling as she inspected the swollen, soiled diaper beneath him. A soft, humiliated sound escaped him around the pacifier in his mouth. His face burned, cheeks flushed with helpless shame. His exposed bottom twitched slightly in her grasp, still sticky from the mess he’d made earlier. He hated the way she held him, like he was some dirty, helpless doll, something to be handled and wiped down without dignity.

Across the room, his stepmother, Isabel, tied her thick dyed hair into a tight bun. “I warned him,” she said, almost more to herself than to Sofía. “There’s a difference between immaturity and deliberate disobedience. Once he crossed that line, I had no choice.” She snapped on a pair of latex gloves, as though about to perform a procedure, not just a diaper change.

Sofía laughed. “He does look kinda proud of himself. I mean, just look at him—laid out like a wittle baybee, butt up, waiting for Mommy to come clean his dirty diapee! Hahaha! Pathetic.”

Isabel approached the table, giving Cody’s hip a firm pat. “Legs up higher, sweetie. If you’re gonna make a mess that big, you can display it proudly..”

Cody obeyed, the movement awkward and humiliating. Sofia helped him, but only a little, letting him do most of the work. His abs and limbs trembled slightly with the effort, but Isabel didn’t acknowledge it. She was already focused.

With practiced motions, she unfastened the diaper’s tapes, letting it peel away with a wet squelch that made Cody wince. Her expression was unreadable. She didn’t even flinch at the sight—or smell—of his mess. She’d done this many times. 

“I told you this would happen,” Sofía said in a singsong voice, adjusting her grip on Cody’s thighs to hold them high, his messy exposed bottom fully on display. “You kept pushing her, and now look at you. What’s that expression? Play stupid games, win stupid diapers?”

Cody squirmed, the changing table creaking faintly beneath him, his body completely at their mercy.

Sofía smirked. “Remember when he used to argue with you, Mom? All that swagger, all those little tantrums. What was it you used to say, Mamá? ‘If you act like a brat…’?”

“‘…you’ll end up over my knee,’” Isabel replied with a quiet smile. “And he did.”

Cody whimpered, his face flushing. That first spanking had been a turning point, dragged across Isabel’s lap in front of Sofía, pants around his ankles, dignity gone. 

“You cried like a little niño, remember?” Sofía added with a grin. “Kicking, crying, and whining while I held you down and your first diaper got taped on. Your behavior hasn’t improved much since.”

Isabel’s voice was calm as she began to wipe him down with slow, deliberate strokes. “You stopped acting like a man, Cody. So I stopped treating you like one. This isn’t punishment, sweetheart. It’s retraining. You made it clear you didn’t want the responsibilities of adulthood. So we stopped giving them to you. No more decisions, no more privileges.”

“Translation?” Sofía leaned in, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You threw tantrums until you got put back in diapers. And now you’re stuck in them. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

Cody squeezed his eyes shut.

Sofía sighed, glancing down at him, “you’re lucky we didn’t go straight to the highchair and bottle feedings from day one. You were practically asking for this! Acting like such a brat almost immediately!” Sofía added, brushing hair from her face with a hand she wasn’t using to hold his ankles. “All bark, no backbone. Honestly, Mom, you were too soft on him at first. Letting him eat real food and use the toilet like a big boy? You spoiled him.”

Isabel wiped thoroughly, clinically, making no effort to spare his dignity. Fondling the wipe around his balls, swiping through his buttcrack.

Isabel chuckled softly. “I wanted to give him a chance to grow up. Turns out he needed the opposite.”

Sofía scoffed and forced his legs wide open to expose him further, allowing her Mother to get better access to cleaning her step-brothers’ puckered little butthole. “If he were mine, boy clothes would be banned. He’d be all bows, ribbons, and pretty dresses.”

Isabel smiled faintly as she reached for the cream. “Don’t tempt me. He still has some privileges… for now.”

Cody flushed deeper as she gently, but thoroughly, rubbed the ointment across his skin, applying it with slow, practiced fingers.. He hated how routine it had become. How normal it now felt to be changed by his stepmother while his stepsister watched. 

“Unfortunately… touching yourself isn’t one of those privileges you get anymore, is it, Cody?” Isabel said, her voice almost proud as she gave his cheek a playful pinch. “Not since we added the cage, huh?”

She tapped the flattened little metal prison around his cock and balls, making it clink on the end of her nails. He flinched and gave a small, instinctive nod.

Sofía leaned closer, grinning. “Aww. Poor wittle baby. Stuck in diapers, and still can’t make his little cummies. That must be so frustrating!!”

Isabel gave a slight nod of approval. “It’s necessary. He showed us he couldn’t be trusted with his body, so now he doesn’t get to make decisions about it.”

She unfolded the new diaper and slid it under him. “Soon, he won’t even remember what freedom felt like,” Isabel said gently. “Just routine. Obedience. And maybe, one day, gratitude.”

“How long has it been since you used the potty like a big boy?” Sofía mused aloud. “Two weeks? Three? You should hear how he whimpers when the ten-second timer goes off and he has to get off the toilet and go fill his diaper instead. It’s adorable!!”

“He’s lucky I still let him earn pull-ups on good days,” Isabel said as she dusted powder across his skin. “But lately…there haven’t been many of those, have there, Cody?”

Cody didn’t answer. He stayed quiet, his body still as she pulled the thick diaper up between his legs and taped it snug around his hips. Shame pooled behind the pacifier bulb in his mouth. Isabel approached the table, calm and in control. 

“He’s been slipping this week,” Isabel said to her daughter, her voice low with carefully measured disapproval. “Wetting before nap. Messing after breakfast.”

Cody flinched behind his pacifier, heart sinking. He thought that was what they wanted. That was how babies behaved. That was what they'd trained him to do.

Wasn’t it? Or was it the other way around?

Sofía clicked her tongue. “Poor guy just can’t seem to figure it out, huh?”

“He’s trying,” Isabel said finally. “In his own way.”

Sofía leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Trying’s cute. But you’d think after six months, he’d have picked up a few things.”

Cody flinched at that, but stayed quiet. He had picked up on things. He thought he had. Wake up. Drink what they give you. Mess after breakfast. Nap wet. Don't ask too many questions. Smile when praised. Apologize when scolded. But no matter how carefully he played the part, it always came back to this: them being disappointed, him being confused, and him getting taped back into yet another diaper.

Isabel smoothed powder over his skin. “Some lessons take longer to sink in.”

Sofía smirked. “And some boys just aren’t meant to graduate.”

“There,” Isabel said, dusting her hands with quiet finality. “Fresh and dry. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Sofía let his legs drop with a dramatic sigh. “You’re welcome, baby bro. Auntie Sofía’s arms are tired from holding up that heavy little mush tush!”

Cody had a lot of things he wanted to say to his step-sister, but all of them would  only lead to bars of soap in his mouth, or another trip over Sofia’s knees for a date with Mr. Hairbursh.

Isabel gave the front of his diaper a final pat, sealing the last tape with clinical precision. “You’ll thank me for this one day, cariño. But for now, we keep working on your attitude… and your control.” She nodded towards the kitchen. “Sofía? Bottle, please.”

“Vanilla formula with a splash of prune juice,” Sofía called, already moving. “He’s overdue, isn’t he?”

Isabel leaned down and gently brushed his hair back. “This isn’t a punishment, Cody. It’s structure. The same structure your father needed…and responded to.”

Cody blinked, confused. His father?

Sofía reappeared in the doorway and froze, her smirk growing by the second. “Wait… you never told him??” she asked, laughing. “Oh my God! He really didn’t know!”

Cody looked between them, his heart thudding. “Told me what?”

Isabel didn’t answer right away. Instead, she adjusted the fit of his diaper, smoothing the waistband in slow, practiced strokes.

Sofía crouched beside him, voice syrupy but quiet. “Your Papá was in diapers too. Right here. On this table. With Mama changing him, except he didn’t drag it out like you.”

Cody’s eyes widened, stomach twisting. “No…” he breathed behind his pacifier.

“Oh yes,” Sofía whispered. “Two months. He was messy, entitled, mouthy…just like you! But he learned. Fast.”

Cody’s cheeks burned. “How did I not know?”

Isabel placed a hand on Cody’s belly, smiling. But this time her smile wasn’t matronly in tone. It felt sharp, almost cruel. “Because we didn’t want you to.” She said, face impassive, “Your dad…he was tougher. We gave him room to fail, to mess up, to figure things out. You…you need this more. You’re fragile. You slip. So we have to be harder on you. Tighter. Because you’re not ready to be free yet.”

Cody swallowed hard, a creeping understanding settling inside him like cold stone. Suddenly it all made sense.

They always found a reason to deny him the chance to get out of diapers. If he wet and dirtied too many, they claimed he didn’t know how to control his urges, so he needed to stay in diapers. But if he managed to hold it too long, they would say he “must be constipated” and give him a suppository, an enema, or something extra in his bottle to help things move along.

His reactions never helped. If he cried over a dirty diaper, they called him too whiny, unable to handle discomfort. But when he didn’t cry, they whispered that he must like the feel of it, that he was getting used to it, so there was no sense in taking him out of diapers now

Feedings were no different. Sofía would spoonfeed him mushy food, but often ‘accidentally’ missed his mouth, letting soft bits drip down his cheeks and chin, then she’d scold him for not even knowing how to eat properly, too clumsy and helpless to manage something so simple. But if he stayed too clean and neat, swallowing every bite without a spill, she’d say he wasn’t acting ‘little’ enough. No matter what, he couldn’t win.

Every small action was scrutinized, judged from every angle. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how perfectly he followed the rules, it was never enough. The standards were impossible, and that was the point.

When Sofía’s friends were over—lounging on the couch, watching, laughing, helping with his changes—the rules got even crueler.

If Cody didn’t whine or whimper about his cage hurting, if he managed to stay quiet and composed, he was punished for being unimpressed. For not finding them hot enough.

“Not even a twinge?” Sofía would say, circling him slowly. “Wow, girls. Guess we’re not hot enough for him.”

The next thing he knew, he’d be over her knee–or theirs—reminded, painfully, how wrong that answer was.

But if he did leak—if the pressure built and a few shameful drops escaped—he was labeled a disgusting little pervert.

“Filthy boy,” one of the girls would sneer, holding up the damp padding like evidence at a trial. “Couldn’t even keep it in.”

And then came the spanking. From one girls lap to the other, until he was red and raw, sobbing into his mittens while they laughed and posed for pictures.

There was no winning. Only different flavors of shame.

Isabel’s voice cut softly through his thoughts. “It’s not about numbers, Cody. You’re not being graded. You’re being watched.”

Sofía leaned against the table, casual and cruel. “That’s why we only give you ten seconds on the potty. If you really wanted to be dry, that should be enough, right??”

Cody’s stomach turned.

“You keep trying to win a game we never told you the rules for,” Sofía said. “But you’re not here to pass tests. You’re here to learn trust. Obedience.”

“Exactly,” Isabel said gently. “A baby doesn’t ask how many bottles he needs to finish to grow up. He just drinks when he’s fed, wets when he needs to, and trusts his caretakers to decide when he’s ready. That’s what we’re teaching you.”

His mouth felt dry, even as he felt the damp bulk of the diaper beneath him. It was conditioning. Not training. They didn’t want him ready—they wanted him regressed.

“But we’re not completely cruel,” Sofia said brightly,  voice syrupy and saccharine. “We’ll give you a chance to earn a pull-up today. Maybe even big boy undies. All you have to do is have one dry nap!”

She knelt beside the table, brushing a strand of hair from his flushed face. “Do that, and maybe we talk about a pull-up..”

She paused, letting it sink in. Then:

“Or maybe we finally unlock that little pee pee prison of yours. Let your little guy breathe for a minute.” Her grin sharpened. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Cody’s brow furrowed, skeptical, but the idea of getting out of chastity for even a little bit. But he’d be lying if he said the idea didn’t excite him. It was months ago when Isabel last slid that small silver key into the lock of his cage, clicking it open.

“Today’s a test,” his step-mother had said softly, “You just have to get through a diaper change without spewing your little goo goo. Do that, and you won’t have to wear the cage ever again. Show us you can handle it.”

But it wasn’t Isabel changing his diaper that time. It was Sofia, and she didn’t have a shirt on. Her tits were out, and they bobbed up and down while she wiped him down, humming casually like it was nothing, her fingers slow, gentle, firm.  She said his thingy was dirty, really dirty from being in the cage for so long. She just kept wiping it..and wiping..and wiping…and wiping..and wiping.

“Gross!” they said when he shot his load all over his chest, her hand, his diaper, the ceiling.

“Disgusting!” They said, as they clamped the cage back around his pitiful penis, “Your STEP-SISTER is kind enough to change your diaper, and you can’t keep yourself from spurting all over the place in less than a minute?”

They reminded him of that every chance they got. He hadn’t been allowed out since.

Now they had another ‘challenge’ for him. A ‘test’ to see if he could earn a chance at better underwear.

“One dry nap, baby boy,” Sofia whispered. “That’s all it takes. Wake up dry, and you get to get all sticky in a pair of big boy boxers!”

Cody’s breath hitched behind his pacifier at the possibility. He nodded in agreement.

Isabel smiled, then turned toward the kitchen, commencing the test. “A big bottle. Full formula. No drops left behind this time.”

Sofia returned with the bottle already prepared. Cody should have guessed it would be one bigger than he’d yet to see. Huge, warm, heavy with thick vanilla formula and just enough prune juice to “keep things moving.”

“You can drink it right here,” his step-sister said sweetly, lifting his head and guiding the nipple to his lips.

Cody tried to protest, but the pacifier was swapped out for the rubber nipple before he could speak. They held the bottle for him, tilted it high.

Sofía counted down softly. “And not a single drop left. You know what happens if there’s condensation...”

His lips moved obediently, throat working to swallow the sickly-sweet liquid. It seemed endless. The bottle gurgled and sloshed with every pull. By the time it was done, he could feel the pressure in his belly—heavy and inevitable.

“There we go,” Isabel cooed, wiping his chin. “Such a good boy.”

Isabel picked him up with practiced ease and patted his back, gently, rhythmically, until a quiet burp slipped free. He flushed. The humiliation was almost routine now.

He looked up at his step-mother as she laid him down in his crib, desperation flickering behind his eyes. “How long…how long do I have to nap?”

Isabel tucked a blanket over him. Her smile was serene.

“Until we think you’re ready to get up.”

Cody closed his eyes. He didn’t need to ask what that meant. They would wait. Wait until the moment he lost control. Because that moment would come. It always did.

The diaper rustled softly as he shifted, pressure building in his gut. He could already feel it happening—his body giving in, the conditioning too deep, too practiced.

Sofía dimmed the lights on her way out, humming as usual.

Isabel lingered, stroking his hair. “Have a good nap, sweetheart” she whispered. “You’ve earned it.”

I love it!

“Stand up straight–quit slouching,” Mrs. Campbell snapped, as she carefully adjusted the wide, silky pink sash from behind Ethan.

They were facing a full-length mirror and he was cringing with shame as he beheld his humiliating, girlish reflection. Mrs. Helen Campbell, his domineering mother-in-law, was fitting him for a new dress that she had just finished, and to his chagrin, it was even shorter than her usual ones. That is to say, it barely came down past his waist and when she tied the big satin sash in the back, it only pulled the frilly hem even higher.

He stared down at the glossy pink Mary Janes that were his normal footwear now, and his knee-high schoolgirl socks, which left his baby-smooth, hairless thighs completely exposed.

But to be sure, the worst and most shameful part of his outfit was the fat, bulky diaper swaddled around his hips and the infantile shiny white nursery print plastic panties surrounding them. Ethan knew from his years of constant bedwetting just how necessary they were, but he bitterly resented having to wear them during the daytime, like an incontinent toddler.

Ethan’s hair, which tended to be on the long side, had been combed out into two little girl-style pigtails, with flouncy pink bows that matched his babyish dress.

They were standing in his nursery, a room that only four months previously had been a spare room used just for storage. Now, with the help of some contractors that his wife Megan had hired, it had been converted into a full-blown nursery for a baby girl, albeit, a rather large one.

Everywhere one looked, it shouted out toddler femininity–from the gauzy pink curtains, to the white and pink walls with their nursery print design of giraffes, diaper pins, and building blocks. A large pink dresser stood in the corner, it’s top lined with dolls and baby toys. Next to it, was a crib with high sided rails and a mobile above it that played childish nursery rhymes whenever Ethan was put to bed.

A low but sturdy changing table was next to it, and the stacks of thick, fluffy diapers alongside attested to the only underwear the big sissy boy was allowed anymore.

Between his mother-in-law and his wife, the two of them had filled the closet with a vast assortment of cute dresses, onesies, and romper suits, all in soft, babyish pastel colors.

Hanging from a couple of pegs next to the door were two menacing Spencer paddles, one in solid oak and the other in clear lexan–instruments of punishment Ethan was all too familiar with, and they were used without hesitation to make sure he toed the line. His mother-in-law was particularly strict with him, and when she babysat, she ruled the nursery with an iron hand. Defying her was out of the question, and with either paddle, she could bring Ethan to tears in mere moments. He lived in constant fear of being bent over her lap to receive another humiliating and painful lesson at her hands.

Behind him, Mrs. Campbell was taking her time, fussing with the wide satin sash and tying it into a pretty, fancy bow.  It was obvious that she had spent a great deal of time and effort in making this dress, what with the lacy accents and little bows in profusion. It looked like something a little girl would wear to Sunday school and it had a built-in petticoat underneath that flared out the hem.

Ethan squirmed in place and shuffled his feet, wanting this mortifying, emasculating experience to end as soon as possible.

Helen hadn’t liked Ethan from the day they first met, nor had she made any attempt to hide her disdain for him ever since. When she first took in his petite, almost feminine stature, and his soft-spoken nature, Mrs. Campbell was certain he was nothing but a big sissy. But it was when she learned of his chronic bedwetting habit, that her worst suspicions were confirmed.

She still remembered the tearful call she had gotten one day from her daughter, in which Megan had let out all her frustrations and dissatisfactions regarding Ethan. It had been the second time that week that she had woken up to wet sheets and she was at her wit’s end.

“Sounds to me like he needs diapers,” her mother had quipped caustically.

At first, Megan was taken aback by such a radical solution but after encouraging her to make a call to Ethan’s mother, she began getting a much clearer picture of the man she had married. To her horror, she learned that Ethan had been wetting his bed all through his teens and his mother had taken what she thought was a very sensible solution of putting him in diapers every night.

In fact, it was not until he had moved out of the house that diapers and plastic panties stopped being a regular part of his nightly routine.

That afternoon, Ethan’s mother paid her a visit, bringing over several boxes of his diapers and supplies. Megan was amazed as she unloaded stacks and stacks of thick cloth diapers, plastic panties in every color and style, baby powder, diaper rash cream, safety pins, and a waterproof changing sheet–everything a big baby still in diapers would be in need of.

That night, Ethan was in for a huge surprise as his gorgeous wife laid out a trio of diapers and yellow translucent plastic panties, telling him it was either that or he could sleep on the floor. Needless to say, Ethan was quick to cave in and for the first night in several years, he slept soundly, knowing he was once again safe and protected.

The next morning revealed the wisdom of her plan, for his diapers were soaking wet, as they were to be every following morning thereafter.

While this had solved the problem of wet sheets at night, the room soon began to take on the smell of a baby’s nursery; the pungent, sour smell of pee-soaked diapers permeating the air despite the large rubber bin supplied by Ethan’s mom. This was something Megan had no intention of tolerating, and she immediately moved Ethan into the spare room, although not before putting the waterproof mattress cover on the bed he would be sleeping on.

Megan’s 27th birthday was later that month, and her mother gave her a wooden paddle as a gift, saying that she was sure she could find a use for it. At the time, Megan had laughed it off, thinking of it as no more than a gag gift, but as time went on, she began to think of it in a more serious light.

There had been numerous times when she had walked in on Ethan, only to discover him playing with himself as he looked at pictures of big breasted women on the computer. In the past, this has resulted in some very vocal arguments and a contrite, shame-faced Ethan.

But later on at work, as Megan pictured her husband wearing his nightly diapers and babyish plastic panties, the idea of a childish punishment seemed all too appropriate for him.

Two weeks later, she came in one afternoon to find Ethan masturbating again. Snatching up the paddle, Megan grabbed Ethan by the ear and threw him over her lap, giving him the spanking of a lifetime. Fueled by anger and determination, she paddled him until the tears were streaming down his face and he was bawling like a baby. After that, she put him in his diapers and forced him to wear them the rest of the day as an additional shaming punishment.

It was not long after that, that their sex life–such as it was, was severely curtailed by Megan. She had become tired of his pathetic, ineffectual attempts to satisfy her, and between his minuscule penis, and his tendency to prematurely ejaculate, the amount of orgasms she had experienced with him was exactly zero. While this had become a source of irritation and frustration for her, Megan was hardly the type of person to take it lying down.

After spending several hours online doing some research, she soon found what she was looking for. A company called Sissies-R-Us sold a variety of male chastity devices and she carefully selected the one that had the highest rating for security.

If her bedwetting husband couldn’t satisfy her–she was going to make damn sure that he went high and dry as well.

When the device arrived two days later via FedEx, Megan excitedly opened the package and spent some time getting a thorough understanding of how it worked. That evening, as she was preparing Ethan for bedtime, she took out the device and began installing it on his prepubescent-sized genitals, explaining that his inability to satisfy her meant that enforced chastity was going to be a part of his life from now on.

Ethan had been weak-willed all his life, and he was not unaccustomed to being bullied around by those around him. Nevertheless, this was a line in the sand he felt compelled to draw. There was simply no way that he could imagine a life without having orgasms at his whim, and this alarming device spelled an abrupt end to all that.

He argued loudly and vehemently but soon found himself in the familiar position over Megan’s firm lap, getting a blistering spanking with her paddle.

He was still crying uncontrollably as she secured the device around him and snapped the lock shut.

“Your first period of lock-up will be three months,” she explained flatly to the whimpering sissy, “that will break up your cycle of masturbating and get you used to a life without erections or orgasms.”

Her words brought on a fresh torrent of tears from Ethan who had begun pulling and tugging at the device, desperately hoping to extract his tiny little penis from it.

“And now,” she told him firmly as she looked him square in the eye, “it’s time for your diapers and plastic panties, you big sissy.”

That had been the turning point for the couple, and the balance of power had shifted irrevocably and forever into the hands of Megan. In the subsequent days, she became bossy and more authoritative with him, dictating how everything in his life would be, from how much computer time he could have, to when his bedtime would be. Arguments were quickly resolved with Ethan being bent over Megan’s lap for a well deserved spanking. In fact, the paddle had become so useful, that Megan soon added another one made of lexan to her collection.

One day, Ethan was foolish enough to be disrespectful towards his mother-in-law, who was visiting for the day. He soon found himself across her knee, his pants around his ankles as she used the new lexan paddle to teach him a painful and humiliating lesson in manners. It was a sorry, sobbing, pantywaist that made his apologies to Helen as he tearfully rubbed his blazing bottom.

As humiliating as this was, it was even worse when her friends were around and Megan made no effort to hide their unequal relationship. She frequently dressed him down in front of them, ordering him around like a servant, and showing everyone who it was that wore the pants in the house.

Ethan had always had a submissive streak through him and he seemed completely unable to stand up to his controlling wife. What little respect her friends had had for him, quickly vanished.

Nor was his bedwetting kept a secret, and soon all of Megan’s friends knew about his humiliating nightwear of diapers and plastic panties. Frequently, she would lead him back out of his room after being changed, to be paraded before her guests like a toddler fresh out of his nursery.

To be sure, they felt absolutely no sympathy for the weak pansy.

Often, if he hadn’t been changed yet, they would tease him beforehand, asking him, ‘where are your diapers, sissy?’ or, ‘looks like someone isn’t wearing his protection yet’. The snide comments were always accompanied by giggles and smirks from her brazen, mocking friends.

The endless humiliations were difficult for Ethan to bear, but perhaps even worse, was his inability to satiate the gnawing sexual desires he felt. He had been a chronic masturbator all his life and having that taken away had left him constantly horny now and desperate for satisfaction. The first two weeks of his chastity were maddening for him, but it only got worse as time went on. Being married to a woman as sexy as Megan meant he was constantly being aroused by her presence; every time he saw a flash of her big, pillowy breasts or her long silky legs, he was beside himself with desire.

He had tried everything he could to extricate his little member but the device had proved to be infallible.

Bed times were another source of frustration for him, as he used to take advantage of his soft, fluffy diapers every night to play with himself. He recalled with longing, splashing his little load into the waiting folds of the absorbent Birdseye cloth and then drifting off to blissful sleep. And since they were always completely soaked by morning, there was never any chance that Megan was going to catch him.

But now–all that was impossible.

His diapers seemed to mock him, teasing him with their multiple cushiony layers while he rubbed himself furiously to no avail.

Often, he would have dreams of Megan, sauntering around the house in her sexy lingerie and heels and he would wake up in a state of frenzy, beads of sweat upon his forehead. He would reach down into his diapers, and for the millionth time, yank and tug at his chastity device in futility.

He had tried making promises to Megan, that he would redouble his efforts to please her, but she merely laughed at him and told him to get used to it. She wore the key to his chastity device on a delicate necklace around her neck, deliberately teasing him with it. Every time Ethan gazed at his wife’s deep cleavage, he was forced to look at the key that could free him from his implacable penis prison.

And all this time, it was Megan’s mother-in-law who kept pushing her to take the next major step with her sissified hubby.

“Megan, there’s absolutely no reason why a woman of your looks should have to live a sexless life,” she had explained, “Go out and find yourself a real man–start dating again. With your body, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Megan had listened in silence every time she and her mother had this conversation.

“How about your doctor–isn’t his name Frank? He’s incredibly handsome and so tall–he would be a perfect match for you. You know you could have him in an instant if you just sent him the right message.”

Megan nodded her head slowly, considering her mom’s words while in her heart she knew the older woman was correct. And how she had longed for the embrace of a big strong man, one that could sweep her off her feet and fulfill all of her considerable sexual needs.

When she thought of her regular doctor, it always sent a flutter of excitement through her being. He was gorgeous, and the idea of getting him in her bed made her wet with desire. She had never felt that kind of attraction for anyone.

Her marriage to her diaper-wetting husband had been so unsatisfying and here was finally the chance to make things right.

It didn’t take long to achieve. Flashing her pretty auburn eyes and dropping several seductive hints, it only took a routine visit before the masculine doctor asked her out on a date.

Megan was a beautiful woman by any standard but that night, she took special care to make herself look as ravishing as possible. Wearing a plunging, low-cut cocktail dress that showed off her generous bosom and long, shapely legs, she chose a strappy pair of tall high heels to complete the outfit. She styled her long, luxuriant chestnut hair in an elegant style, with pretty tendrils hanging down to frame her high cheekbones.

Before she left, she pinned Ethan into his nighttime diapers and sent him to bed early with strict instructions that he was not to get up or there would be serious trouble. He was fussy and he peppered her with anxious questions about where she was going but she remained coy, telling him only that she was meeting with a friend. Seething with jealousy, Ethan pouted petulantly but put up little else in the way of resistance–he didn’t want to be sent to bed with a sore bottom.

Closing his bedroom door behind her, she placed a small piece of clear tape on the door so she would know if it had been opened during the night. If that tape wasn’t still in place the following morning, Ethan could count on taking a trip over her lap for a long, painful session with the paddle.

Megan’s date with Frank, as expected, went fabulously, and she followed it up with others, until she started spending the night at his house. Frank was a complete gentleman and the polar opposite of Ethan as a lover. To her surprise and delight, his cock was everything she could hope for–8 inches of thick, heavenly glory. He showed Megan how fantastic sex could be and she would always leave his place completely exhausted but satisfied.

She knew it was inevitable that she would have to tell Ethan of her romantic liaisons, and she debated how best to do it until one day she got an idea. Once again, the internet proved invaluable, and as soon as she found what she was looking for, she placed an overnight order for a particular item.

When it arrived, Megan led Ethan into his room and told him to undress. At the same time, she removed her blouse and slacks to reveal a sexy push-up bra and satin panties. Putting her high heels back on, she told Ethan to bend over his bed, which by now, had begun to smell strongly of stale pee. As he assumed the position, wondering what his exciting wife had in mind, his nostrils were assailed once again with the shameful smell of his childish incontinence.

While his back was turned to her, Megan slipped into the sturdy harness of the large strap-on dildo she had ordered, cinching up the straps around her shapely hips to make it secure. She had purposely bought one who’s length and girth matched Frank’s impressive cock.

When Ethan looked over his shoulder to see what his wife was doing, he gulped hard.

“Wha-what are you d-doing?” he quaked nervously.

“Don’t worry baby,” she told him, “I’ll be gentle with you.”

Taking a dollop of Vaseline, she eased her finger into his back passage, working it around until she could fit two more fingers in. Then she dipped the blunt head of the dildo into the lubricant and pressed it against his puckering hole.

“No-no-no,” he whimpered as he tried to squirm away.

Megan slapped his ass hard and threatened to use the paddle if he didn’t quit struggling. That threat was sufficient to make him settle down as she firmly began applying pressure to his back hole. Whining like a little girl, Ethan fidgeted nervously but he squealed loudly when Megan finally pushed the fat head of the dildo past his defeated sphincter.

However, true to her word, she allowed him to get accustomed to the tremendous girth of the phallus before pushing it further in. Ethan moaned helplessly as he gripped the sheets of his bed, struggling to contend with the big, fat, rubbery invader stretching his virgin hole to the limit.

In and out, Megan began slowing pumping her chaste, sissy husband. He was gasping and whimpering, his eyes half shut as Megan initiated a tortuously slow rhythm with the leviathan dildo. To be sure, he felt emasculated and filled to capacity by the monster inside of him–he had never experienced anything like it in his entire life!

Conversely, the huge shaft reminded Megan of Frank’s enormous cock, slipping in and out of her own juicy hole. The thought aroused her tremendously and she began plunging the dildo in with greater enthusiasm.

“You feel this cock, Ethan? This is what every woman needs,” she told her helpless hubby, “this is the kind of cock that I need, and you are totally unable to give it to me.”

As he moaned and squealed like a little girl, Ethan knew just how right she was.

Her excitement level was increasing and her breathing was becoming more rapid. The thought of finally telling Ethan about her wonderful lover was really turning her on.

“That’s why I’ve decided to get it from someone else.”

Ethan’s eyes opened wide as he listened to what she was saying. He felt like his wife had just poured a bucket of ice water over his head.

“I’ve been dating my doctor, Frank…” she paused for effect, “and for the first time since I met you–I’ve finally been satisfied. He has a big, thick cock like this, and he’s reached places you never have.”

She emphasized her remark by plunging the massive rubbery phallus all the way in until it bottomed out, making Ethan squeal helplessly. His legs kicked and he tugged desperately against the sheets but with Megan’s 120 pound frame against him, it was impossible for the weak pantywaist to escape.

“He has such a fabulous, huge cock, and he definitely knows how to use it,” she growled as she ground the dildo hard against Ethan.

“He’s not a bedwetting sissy who wears diapers like a toddler,” she added, gripping his narrow hips firmly with her long-nailed hands. He was forced to endure the full length of her shaft, stretching his aching hole with the mighty cock.

With that, she began a much more aggressive rhythm, pumping Ethan forcefully with the strap-on and bucking him physically against the bed. He slapped the mattress and groaned but he could do nothing to prevent her mercilessly pounding his ass.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s prostate was being vigorously massaged with the big, slippery shaft and even while he struggled to contend with his wife’s shocking announcement, a number of complex feelings were surfacing that were somehow feeding into his arousal. The physical stimulation was hard to ignore and for some reason, the submissive streak inside of him was starting to combine in an unexpected way.

By now, Ethan was two months into his three month chastity sentence, and every day had been an agony of horniness and sexual deprivation for him. The fact was, he was desperate beyond belief all the time now, and totally unable to satisfy his need. Now, as he looked up at the full-length mirror in front of him, he could see the look of firm determination on his gorgeous wife’s face. She had never looked so strong, confident, and beautiful. As she pumped him ever harder, he felt to his shock, the beginnings of an orgasm bubbling up and he moaned again helplessly like a little girl.

Megan partially pulled out her monstrous dildo, only to forcefully ram it back in even harder.

With that, Ethan shrieked out, as he came explosively in his chastity device. He gasped and gulped as he groaned in humiliated orgasm, realizing his own lack of self control had shamefully betrayed him yet again.

Megan collapsed on top of him, burying the dildo to the hilt inside Ethan who was still panting for air.

As he slowly began recovering from his eye crossing climax, Megan eased out the dildo, quickly replacing it with a soft, but fat jelly buttplug. It was specially designed to fill him up totally, yet its narrow neck made it impossible to expel.

“Okay,” she said with a smug grin, clapping her hands together for emphasis, “It’s diaper time!”

Deep down, Ethan knew he was utterly incapable of satisfying his wife. For that matter, as a woman, she was clearly out of his league anyway. He had always wondered how he had been so lucky to get her as a wife and now he was realizing the false economy of that relationship. She was beautiful and sexy and still young enough to turn heads everywhere she went–it was absurd that she should do without sex indefinitely.

Nevertheless, as she powdered and pinned him into his thick, bunny soft diapers, he felt ashamed and humiliated at his inadequacy, to say nothing of the emotional turmoil that had left his head spinning. As she pulled his pink plastic panties up his slim, hairless thighs, it only made him feel more pathetic and childish.

From that day on, Megan no longer made any attempt to disguise her dates with Frank. Ethan knew without being told what was happening as he watched his wife carefully putting on her makeup and doing her hair, preparing for a long evening of sex and multiple orgasms with her hunky man. His chastity device guaranteed that he would never be a part of that again. He wanted to put his foot down and tell her that she was his wife and not someone else’s but the paddle was never far away. More often than not, when she told him to pull his pants down and get across her lap, he simply didn’t have the backbone to stand up to her.

Nevertheless, there had been several evenings before a date when she had been required to re-assert her authority, spanking him to tears before pinning him into his diapers for an early bedtime.

That had been three months ago, and perhaps the strangest thing of all, was the subtle change that had evolved in Megan’s attitude towards Ethan. As he gradually began to accept his subservient role, becoming less of an obstacle and an impediment to her sexual pleasure, she began looking at him again with warmth and affection. This was all welcome from Ethan’s perspective, who had thought he had lost his wife irrevocably.

And then, once again, his mother-in-law interceded in their lives, encouraging Megan to make yet further changes. One night, after Megan had put Ethan to bed, the two of them were sipping wine in the living room.

“Do I understand correctly that he hasn’t had a dry night in months?” Helen asked her daughter.

Megan nodded her head with resignation. “He’s no different than a two year-old infant. He wets his diapers every night without fail.”

“I think it’s time you started treating him like the big baby he acts like,” her mother replied.

Megan sat up straight and faced her mother.

“What do you mean?”

“If he’s going to act like a baby, you should start dressing him like one. Let’s get him some outfits for the big toddler he really is. You should dress him in rompers, diaper shirts, onesies, and hey–why not little girl dresses?”

Megan giggled to herself.

“And now that you’ve got a real man in your life, it’s time to convert his room into a proper nursery fit for a big bedwetting baby.”

Megan was clearly intrigued by the idea and her mind raced as she considered the possibilities. She could easily picture her weak, simpering sissy of a husband, toddling about in a nursery complete with a crib and a playpen. And he could be contained, controlled, and restricted in the same way a real baby had to live. It was the perfect solution.

In addition, there was a part of Megan that actually liked the idea of caring for a baby, albeit an adult one. Due to medical reasons, Megan knew she would have difficulty trying to conceive and it occurred to her that this might, in some small part, satisfy her maternal instincts.

“I love it!” she said at last, her voice filled with enthusiasm, “A bedwetter like Ethan needs a crib to sleep in, so that will be the very first thing I get for him.”

“I can easily make outfits for him on my sewing machine that will fit, but I also think they should be made purposely to humiliate him,” her mother added, “I’ll make them in a prissy, feminine style to emphasize what a big sissy he is.”

“Ha ha!” Megan laughed, “Mother! You’re outrageous!”

Together, they conspired and planned, mapping out the future of her diapered husband who was contentedly sleeping just down the hall.

The next day, Megan placed a call to a contractor with instructions to make a crib, playpen, and a stout changing table, large enough to accommodate an adult, albeit, a petite one. Over the course of the next three weeks, these items were gradually added to Ethan’s evolving room. He watched with concern and consternation as the room began to take on a distinctly infantile character, with nursery print wallpaper going up and a pink dresser installed. Over time, it accumulated a large collection of rompers, diaper shirts, and a large assortment of panties, all cut generously to accommodate his ever present, big, thirsty diapers.

One day, Megan and her mother came into his nursery with a pair of scissors. With great ceremony, they cut up his remaining pairs of underwear and threw them in the garbage, putting a final and permanent end to his adulthood.

Helen finally finished tying the bow in the back of Ethan’s baby dress and she stood behind him, looking critically at the finished product. Making a few adjustments to the frilly hem and the short, puffy shoulder sleeves, she smiled down on the diapered sissy.

“I think it’s adorable,” she exclaimed proudly, a big smile appearing on her face.

Just then, Megan stepped into the room, looking stunning in an expensive, dangerously low-cut evening dress. Her big, beautiful breasts were practically spilling out of the top and in her high heels, Ethan was forced to look up into her pretty face. As usual, the act made him feel weak and inferior to his fabulous wife, particularly so, since by comparison, he was wearing a frilly short dress and his fat, embarrassing diapers. The vast difference only reinforced his childish status to her.

“Well–you look spectacular!” her mother gushed in admiration, “Frank is going to love that dress.”

“I think so too,” she replied giddily, “I just got this bra in today–look at how much support it gives me.”

Peeling away the spaghetti straps, she modeled in front of them, beaming her gorgeous, infectious smile.

Ethan gaped at the blatant sexual display before him, his tiny little penis quickly stiffening within his tube. He gulped hard, and his mouth went dry as his breathing quickened.

“And how is my little diapered sissy boy this evening?” she asked cheerfully.

Ethan swallowed hard again as he stared first at the two massive globes within her lacy push-up bra, then to the key to his chastity device dangling between them, and finally up at his wife’s ravishing face. Her eyes glittered with excitement and it was painfully obvious she couldn’t wait to see her boyfriend for tonight’s date. Ethan had never seen her so enthusiastic and he was consumed with equal parts jealousy and desire–right now, he wanted Megan more than anything. His tight chastity tube was feeling horribly restrictive and he craved release like never before.

“I’ve just finished this cute little ensemble for him,” her mother explained, “What do you think?”

“I think it’s absolutely darling,” Megan said appreciatively, “My baby has a pretty dress of her own to wear tonight.”

She gave him a playful wink and reached down to pat him patronizingly on his thickly diapered bottom.

Ethan’s heart was beating wildly as he gazed lustfully at his sexy, unattainable wife. His impotent penis was throbbing painfully, fighting in futility against the restraining tube it was imprisoned in as he took in her flawless body.

Seeing the focus of his attentions, Helen slapped his diapered bottom harshly and pushed his pink rubber pacifier into his gaping mouth.

“Silly sissy–that’s not for you. She’s going out on a date with a real man, not a bedwetting pansy that wears diapers and dresses.

“Look at you,” she scolded him, her voice taking on a cutting edge.

With her hand, she forced his head to turn and look back at his humiliating reflection in the mirror. It had the effect of destroying what little confidence he had remaining. There he was, wearing a dainty baby dress with lace and ribbons galore, a Peter Pan collar and puffy sleeves, thick diapers and waterproof panties, his sissy knee socks and glossy pink Mary Janes.

“You’re not a real man–you’re a sissy!” his mother-in-law added, giving his fat bottom another condescending slap.

Her firm hand landed with a dull thud.

Ethan hung his head in shame, as he often did when Helen berated him but Megan was smiling with satisfaction. She loved how strict and controlling her mother was with Ethan–the perfect babysitter for the diapered sissy.

“If you’re a good boy for grandma, maybe I’ll give you a session with the strap-on tomorrow,” Megan promised with a flirtatious wink.

Under the circumstances, that was as much as Ethan could hope for anymore, but although his opportunities for an orgasm were few and far between these days, being pumped with a big dildo while still locked in his chastity cage seemed like small consolation. This seemed all the more so as his eyes wandered over the breathtaking form of his smoldering wife–the same wife that would soon be wrapping her legs around another man’s waist as he thrust his cock into her eager, wet pussy.

“Come on, Sissy, it’s your dinnertime,” Helen said, interrupting his daydreaming as she took hold of his wrist and led the dispirited pantywaist out of the nursery.

Taking him into the dining room, she helped him into the oversize highchair and secured the strap around his waist, locking the buckle that was purposely behind him and out of his reach. Then she slid the large plastic tray in front where it clicked shut against the sides, further imprisoning him. If that were not enough, two strong velcro straps were soon wrapped around his wrists, completely immobilizing his hands and arms.

Thus, fully secured, his mother-in-law busied herself in the kitchen, preparing his dinner.

There was little Ethan could do, other than to swing his Mary Janes and look around the room bored.

Before long, Megan came out and grabbed her keys, striding over to look at her babified hubby, now trapped in his highchair. Helen had tied a large plastic bib around his neck and the playful character of Barney adorned the front.

“Where are you going for dinner tonight, Megan?” her mother asked solicitously.

“Frank’s taking me to this really expensive place uptown–I hear it’s really something,” she replied excitedly, “But to tell you the truth–I can’t wait for dinner to be over so we can head back to his place and I can have fantastic sex with him again.”

“Megan!” her mother chided her with mock anger.

Her daughter giggled and bent down to kiss Ethan on the cheek who was pouting in silence.

“Don’t worry baby, that’s nothing you need to concern yourself with anymore. You just try to keep your diapers dry.”

To think that that one childish task was the only responsibility he had anymore!

Feeling extremely frustrated, Ethan’s lower lip puffed out as he sulked and his gaze once more dropped down to the long line of tantalizing cleavage disappearing into Megan’s elegant evening dress. To be sure, all he had to look forward to was a messy dinner of baby food, followed by an early bedtime in his crib.

“And looks like grandma has prepared a yummy dinner for you tonight of Chef Boyardee,” she enthused as she shared her mother’s grin.

Bringing over a bowl of the steaming canned pasta, Helen set it down on the pink tray in front of Ethan.

“Well, be a good boy for grandma tonight, sissy,” Megan instructed him again before sauntering out the door, her sexy high heels clicking loudly on the parquet floor.

Ethan sighed heavily, his disappointment plain on his face.

“Din-din time!” his mother-in-law announced, bringing his attention back to the present situation.

She scooped up a big spoonful of food and quickly shoveled it into his mouth.

“I’m so glad Megan has finally found a real man that can satisfy her–aren’t you?” she asked in a tone of voice deliberately intended to goad him.

Ethan could hardly respond as his mouth was full of Chef Boyardee noodles but he shook his head in disagreement.

“You should know that it was me that encouraged her to cuckold you–in fact, I’m the one who told her to start flirting with Frank,” she told him, twisting the knife even further in the wound, “He’s so much more of a man than you’ll ever be. And now he’s satisfying Megan every chance he gets.”

Although his mother-in-law was 15 years his senior, the years had done little to detract from her obvious beauty. And while she was no longer as slim as Megan, one could certainly see where her daughter got her impressive bosom. Helen had known from early on that Ethan had a weakness for big breasts and she purposely made a point of wearing snug, low cut tops to tease him with. Today was no different, and she was wearing a plunging, scoop neck, fitted top, that clung temptingly to her full bosom, an effect that was not lost on Ethan.

Unlike many older women, Helen had chosen to keep her hair long, and while it had a few grey streaks in it now, it still looked lustrous and full. Today, however, it was tied behind in a look of stern severity.

She still resented Ethan for trapping her daughter in marriage and as a consequence, she took every opportunity to punish and humiliate the chaste sissy, every chance she got.

Ethan swallowed the food in his mouth and glared back at his mother-in-law, the anger rising in him. He was tired of being pushed around by her and he couldn’t stand her constant, condescending and demeaning attitude.

Taking another heaping spoonful of noodles, Helen shoved it into his mouth before he could utter a reply.

“AWGFF!” he squealed, twisting his face away. Some of the messy noodles didn’t make it and they spilled down his chin to plop onto his baby bib.

Ignoring the mess on his face, his mother-in-law continued taunting him.

“Did you see that sexy outfit she was wearing? Wow! What man could resist that?

“By the way–she told me the other day that she stopped taking her birth control. And I know Frank doesn’t wear a condom either when he makes love to her.”

Ethan’s temper finally snapped. He spit out the food in his mouth and flailed his arms furiously with all his might. Unfortunately, the velcro straps were made for just such a display of infantile fury and it achieved him nothing.

At the same time, his rage manifested itself in another, completely unexpected way, and the floodgates of his bladder suddenly opened up, inundating his diapers with a strong surge of hot, insistent pee.

“You’re a bitch!” he shrieked, “I hate you!”

His glossy pink Mary Janes kicked impotently beneath him.

Helen set down the spoon with calm deliberation as she looked down at her captive, diapered sissy struggling against his bonds a mere foot away.

“All done? Because you’ve just earned yourself a nice, hard spanking,” she informed him matter-of-factly.

Ethan twisted and tried to escape, thrashing against the straps around his wrists with all his strength as he continued kicking but it got him nowhere.

Turning on her heel, his mother-in-law strode down the hall towards his nursery where the paddles were kept.

Knowing exactly what was coming, Ethan redoubled his efforts, wriggling and fighting against his bonds but it was no use. By the time Helen returned, he was resigned to his punishment and his head sagged in defeat.

He grew nervous now as he watched her reverse the routine by which she’d originally put him into his highchair. First, she undid the velcro straps and removed the tray table before going behind him to undo the lap buckle.

He always found her calm, cool demeanor the scariest of all her moods–instead of yelling at him, she kept her emotions in check and barely raised her voice. Ethan knew from experience he was really in trouble.

“I-I’m sorry,” he apologized contritely, “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Ethan, that little tantrum just earned you a trip over my knee and an early bedtime,” she told him firmly as she led him over to an armless chair in the kitchen.

The effeminate sissy whimpered and whined, pleading with her in a desperate, but futile attempt to dissuade her.

“Please–I really didn’t mean what I said,” he blabbered, “I think it’s good that Mommy has a man that can satisfy her.”

At this point, he was willing to say anything to avoid the painful spanking he knew with absolute certainty was only moments away. His mother-in-law had gotten the lexan paddle and he knew it produced much more of a sting than the wooden version.

“That’s good, because you’ll have the opportunity to tell her yourself,” she replied cryptically as she took a seat and set the paddle down next to her.

Ethan stamped his feet in frustration. It was all so unfair!!

Reaching her fingers inside the elastic waistband of his plastic panties, Helen tugged them down past his trembling knees, only to discover the pee-soaked cloth in the front of his diapers.

“Ethan–did you wet your diapers?!?” she demanded angrily.

With all his stress and anxiety, Ethan had been totally unaware of having wet himself but now that it had been called to his attention, he looked down with shock and shame, realizing he had indeed peed his diapers without even knowing it.

His face blushed a bright red and he looked away as he bit his lip in angst. This was a totally new loss of control for him and as bad as his nightly bedwetting was, this was a much worse development.

“I asked you a question, sissy boy,” Helen snapped at him.

Turning to face her dark features, his cheeks burned with humiliation as he slowly nodded his head.

“What is the matter with you?” she rebuked him, “You really are a big baby, aren’t you?”

His eyes brimmed with tears as he struggled to think of something to say.

“You never cease to amaze me. Just when I think you can’t get any more pathetic–you go and prove me wrong.

"Wetting your pampers during your dinner like a little toddler–you should be ashamed of yourself!”

She scolded him like a naughty little boy.

With that, she yanked him over her firm lap and swiftly unpinned his soggy diapers. Ethan let out a sob of despair and he bunched his fists as he suddenly felt the cold air upon his soft, bare bottom. Waves of fear and panic made him shiver as she carefully set his diaper pins aside–he knew just how hard his mother-in-law spanked and he fought back the tears filling his eyes.

Picking up the light but very strong paddle, Helen swung it upwards and brought it down as hard as possible across both his exposed sissy cheeks. The sting was shockingly, painfully intense and it took Ethan’s breath away. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened as he gasped for air, unable even to cry out. However, by the second blistering swat, Ethan found his voice.

He bellowed out at the top of his lungs, kicking wildly as the third and fourth swat landed in quick, scalding succession. Desperate, frantic tears spilled down his face now, as he pounded the floor with the palms of his hands. His soft, curvy cheeks danced merrily under the hard, angry swats of the Spencer paddle while his mother-in-law continued her punishing assault.

Distinctively different from the wooden one, the lexan paddle seared his tender flesh cruelly, producing bright red patterns across his defenseless bottom. The sting was unlike anything he had ever experienced and he sobbed bitter tears of pain and indignation.

For Helen, who deeply resented her pansy son-in-law, she saw this as nothing more than what he deserved for his many inadequacies, although his tantrum during dinnertime had provided a welcome excuse to put him over her lap. Now he was getting a humiliating and childish punishment, fit for a bedwetting pantywaist in diapers.

Suddenly, she stopped the spanking, and laid the paddle upon his burning, inflamed bottom. Ethan lay sobbing in his vulnerable position, his bright red bottom fully exposed and his plastic panties tangled around his ankles.

Taking out her cell phone, Helen quickly dialed her daughter’s number and let it ring.

“Hey mom–what’s up?” Megan answered brightly.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone,” she told her daughter, “Ethan threw a temper tantrum during dinnertime and he earned himself a trip over my lap.

"Say hi to mommy, Ethan.”

She held the phone lower and the spanked sissy could barely utter a word that was intelligible, such was the intensity of his sobbing.

“Now Ethan, I thought I told you to be a good boy for grandma tonight,” Megan said with mock gravity.

Before he could reply, the paddle swooped up and came smashing down again across both his singed cheeks, making him howl out in agony.

“WAH-HAH-HAH!!!”

“Tell her what else you did during dinnertime, you little bedwetter,” his mother-in-law snarled.

Trying to reign in his crying, Ethan sobbed and swallowed hard.

“I-I-I w-wet my diapers, Mommy!” he wailed piteously.

He felt utterly ashamed at his announcement.

“Wait–What??” Megan asked incredulously.

“That’s right, the little sissy wet his diapers without even knowing it during dinnertime,” Helen said for him, “Looks like he can’t even control his wetting during the day now.”

Ethan’s wet cheeks burned with humiliation.

There was a pause and they heard Megan giggling in the background.

“Okay,” she said, “you guys are on speakerphone too, now.

"Tell me what you just said, Ethan,” Megan giggled again.

Ethan wasn’t sure what was going on and he hesitated, suspecting she was trapping him in some way.

The paddle came down and left another stinging, angry rectangular pattern across his soft bottom, causing him to shriek loudly and kick frantically.

“Answer her,” Helen prompted him.

“I-I wet my d-diapers during dinnertime,” he wailed tearfully.

This time he heard two voices laughing, one female and the other, male.

“Ethan, meet Frank, my boyfriend and lover,” she said with a proud but smug tone.

Ethan’s face flushed as he realized his humiliating punishment was being witnessed by his wife’s bed mate. Not only that, he had just admitted one of the most shameful things he had ever done to both of them. His cheeks and chest, already a bright red, only blushed a deeper crimson.

“Hey, sissy boy,” a baritone, manly voice said.

Ethan sobbed deeply with shame–this was the most mortifying experience of his entire life!

“He has five more swats to go–would you two like to listen?” Helen asked them.

“Absolutely!” Megan replied as her boyfriend laughed deeply again in the background.

Five more times, the paddle slapped the sissy’s bright red bottom harshly, producing more tears and sobbing along with his helpless kicking.

He was crying uncontrollably when his mother-in-law finally lifted him up.

“Well, I have to go now. I need to change his wet diapers and then I’m putting him down in his crib for an early bedtime,” Helen explained.

Megan giggled and said her goodbyes, ending the call.

As Ethan stood on wobbly feet, bawling his eyes out, Helen looked her sissy son-in-law up and down with disdain.

“You’re nothing but a big baby,” she said, shaking her head, “It’s diaper time for you, followed by beddie-bye time.”

Stopping in the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of warmed milk, she led the sniveling pantywaist back to his nursery. Once there, she sat him down on his changing table, gave him his bottle, and then reached into her purse for something.

“I think it’s time we upgraded your chastity device, sissy boy,” she said as she brought forth a small pink cage-like device made of steel.

Ethan wiped his arm across his wet face and stared anxiously at the diminutive object, certain the change wouldn’t bode well for him.

“This one is different because it has a small, flexible shaft down the center that goes up inside your pee hole. It’s even more secure than the one you’re wearing which is just what a little masturbator like you needs.”

Reaching in her purse for a spare key, she bent down and unlocked Ethan’s chastity device, removing the pieces and cleaning his tiny, shriveled penis with a baby wipe. Despite himself, he started getting hard as he began gazing at his mother-in-law’s full cups, stretching her top in an arousing display before the deprived sissy. Even though he bitterly resented her pushing him around all the time, he couldn’t help but be turned on by her big, sexy breasts.

As soon as she noticed his little nub growing, she stopped what she was doing and shook her head.

“That is absolutely pathetic! Just look at this silly little thing,” she said, pinching his short, thin shaft between her thumb and index finger, “You look more like a four year-old than a man down there. But then, I guess it kind of suits your prissy personality.

"Did you know that Megan never had even one orgasm with you?”

His mother-in-law never passed up an opportunity to make him feel inadequate.

She shook her head in disgust as his under-sized penis wilted under her belittling comments.

“Nope. This little thing needs to be kept locked up and deprived of erections,” she said as she began fitting the snug cuff ring of the new pink device behind his sack.

“See this inner shaft?” she said as she offered him a view down the inside of the chastity tube, “Every time you try to get hard in the tube, it will become increasingly painful until you go soft again. It was specially designed for sissies like you who don’t deserve sexual pleasure. Now, no matter how hard your mommy pounds you with her strap-on, you still won’t be able to cum. I wanted to make absolutely sure you wouldn’t be capable of having another orgasm again.”

Ethan choked back a sob of anguish. To think even that last avenue of pleasure was to be taken away, however small and infrequent it was.

Placing some lube on the tiny stainless ball tip of the shaft, she positioned it before his quivering penis

“Okay baby, this will go inside you easier if you are just a little bit erect. Can you help momma to make sure you won’t be able to have any more orgasms? Go ahead sissy boy, stare at my breasts and fantasize about them while I insert this into you.”

Ethan could have and should have resisted something that clearly wasn’t in his best interests but he was so weak-willed and submissive, he willingly did as he was told, staring hungrily at her big bosom in the stretchy top. Besides, with her warm hand around his little penis, he was completely helpless to his desires. Softly squeezing his shaft, it started to grow again and she rewarded it by carefully working the ball tip into his urethra and down inside him.

“There…that’s a good boy…just what a little sissy needs,” she commended him.

“Oh!” Ethan squealed, unaccustomed to the strange feeling as the cool steel slipped into him.

“Say hello to your new best friend,” his stern mother-in-law said with satisfaction as she watched the flexible shaft slowly disappear into his penis. At the same time, the head of his wiener gradually grew closer to the end of the stubby, short chastity tube until it couldn’t go any further. Mating the pins on the cuff ring with the matching holes in the tube, Helen closed the device, trapping his penis within and compressing it even further. Now the poor sissy’s pee-wee was trapped tighter than ever!

Slipping a small titanium lock through the front, she clicked it shut with a crisp and audible snap.

“There,” she said again, “that’s much better. See how it’s even shorter than your old one? It looks like a little pink thimble on you.”

She giggled with amusement.

Ethan gazed down in dismay at his diminutive caged penis, still trying to get used to the strange feeling of having something inserted into his shaft.

“Wha-what about when I hafta go pee?” he asked anxiously.

“Oh, don’t worry about that–you’ll wet your diapers just like you always do–in fact, you may find it’s a little harder to hold back now. Although after seeing you wet yourself today during dinner, I think you’ve already gone past that stage.”

Ethan didn’t like this development at all but all he could do was to bunch his fists in frustration as she firmly grasped his ankles and swung them over his head, slathering his bright red bottom with Desitin. He whimpered weakly and nursed from the warm milk in his bottle as she laid his legs back down and powdered him thoroughly with the Johnson’s.

“That’s mommy’s little bedwetter,” she praised him as she pinned his fat cotton diapers snugly around his hips, “How does it feel to know that while you’re being put into your diapers and sent to bed in your crib, another man is having wild, passionate sex with your wife, hm?”

Ethan blushed with shame and sucked feverishly on his baby bottle. He always tried hard not to think about what Megan was actually doing when she was gone but his mother-in-law insisted on reminding him of it all the time. But now, with his little penis compressed in this cruel new chastity device, he felt even more powerless and inadequate.

“It must make you sad,” she said unsympathetically as she shook out some yellow translucent baby panties, “But then–this is really where you belong; pinned into some nice, thick diapers and plastic panties like a baby so you can sleep uninterrupted in your crib. You must be very happy that you don’t wake up in a pool of pee anymore.”

Much as Ethan hated it when his mother-in-law derided him like this, he had to admit she was right, even though it crushed him to accept it. And though he could barely admit it even to himself, a small, secret part of himself drew comfort from being safely swaddled in the bunny soft, bulky diapers every night. He no longer gave his nightly bedwetting a second thought.

Ethan winced as she worked the plastic panties around the bulky Birdseye cloth–his bottom still stung terribly from the after effects of the lexan paddle and the snug elastic leg bands cut into his throbbing, punished cheeks. Not only that, he was certain the lingering pain was going to force him to sleep on his stomach in the crib tonight.

Powdering between his thighs, Helen put away his diapering supplies and went over to his dresser to retrieve a night top for him. Quickly selecting a lemon-yellow fleece one, she brought it over and after removing his fancy dress, dropped the baby soft top over his outstretched arms. This one had a cute motif of a teddy bear in diapers across the chest and some script she had personally sewn on it saying ’Diapers–a bedwetter’s best friend“.

"This is certainly true, isn’t it, Ethan?” she said as she showed him the front briefly.

He had been so humiliated when she had first presented it to him months ago, so she had begun making a habit of putting similar phrases on the rest of his jammies.

“Beddie-bye-time!” she announced unnecessarily as she helped him into his crib, pulled his fuzzy pink blankets up and starting the mobile above his head. A nursery rhyme began to play softly as she put his pacifier in, raised the side rail of his crib and clicked it closed.

Ethan clutched his favorite teddy bear in his arms and tried to ignore the painful stinging of his cheeks within his diapers. It didn’t help that his snug plastic panties trapped the scorching heat inside, making his humiliating punishment impossible to ignore.

Walking out the door, his mother-in-law turned off the light switch and tuned to face him.

“Nightey-nite, baby Ethan,” she said pleasantly before closing the door behind her.

    **********************************************************

Ethan was fast asleep in his crib, blissfully dreaming of Megan again…he was watching her on her big bed as she masturbated with her fingers and moaning in glorious ecstasy. His excitement level was rising steadily, like a kettle on a stove, and his eyes roamed over her beautiful, sexy body, drinking in her luscious curves. But just as he was really starting to enjoy the show, at the same time, he began feeling a corresponding pain growing with his penis.

Drifting into uncertain wakefulness, Ethan began to gradually become aware of his surroundings. For one, the moaning he had been listening to was not in his dream, but rather coming from his wife’s room next door. The pain he had felt was also real, and it emanated from the cruel new chastity device his mother-in-law had fitted him for earlier that evening.

He grimaced as he shifted in his crib, feeling now the soggy warm wetness of his diapers that were surrounding him. He took small consolation that there would be no danger of leaks, what with the triple layers of Birdseye cloth and two thick soaker pads in the middle. That, and his big plastic panties ensured his bedding would remain dry, except on nights when he really wet heavily. Feeling carefully all around him, he confirmed that every square inch of cotton was completely saturated and the childish smell of pee drifted up under the baby blankets.

He was distracted by the sound of Megan gasping with pleasure in the room next over. The walls in the house were somewhat thin and it seemed he could hear every little nuance of the sex taking place only several feet from his crib.

To be sure, Ethan had never heard his wife moan like this. She was crying out in ecstasy as her new boyfriend plunged his big cock repeatedly into her welcoming pussy.

Ethan felt his cheeks burning with shame and humiliation that she was brazenly having sex just next door to him and making no secret about it. Obviously, she knew full well that he would hear it, and it would excruciatingly drive home his place of subservience.

His rubber pacifier was still lodged firmly in his mouth and he began to suck on it desperately, clinging tightly to his teddy bear for comfort as he heard another man’s deep grunts in the other room. The headboard was banging rhythmically against the wall as Megan’s cries became more urgent–clearly, she was getting closer to climaxing.

Ethan felt his little penis throbbing within his chastity tube and it ached painfully. He tried to think of something else–taxes or sorting laundry, but Megan’s sex-filled voice kept intruding insistently. His member swelled against the inside of the tiny tube and he moaned in agony. Even the residual soreness of his bottom was forgotten as his pecker fought against the invading shaft inside of him.

At last, Megan cried out, her tremendous orgasm shaking the walls with its intensity. He pictured his beautiful wife, only a few feet away from him, breathlessly panting like an animal while he lay trapped in his crib, the soggy wet diapers embracing him only verifying his proper place in the house. Sucking his pacifier, he angrily slapped his mattress and kicked his feet, feeling more helpless and inadequate than ever.

He thought they were finished, but then ten minutes later, Megan began softly moaning again. Ethan was shocked by her boyfriend’s stamina–he seemed superhuman!

Sure enough, Megan’s sexy voice grew in volume as her lover began all over again. Were they in a different position now? He had no way of knowing. Probably.

He pictured her on her hands and knees, her shapely bottom in the air as her stud pounded her from behind. The vision caused his penis to swell against his chastity tube and he winced again. This was a whole new torture he hadn’t considered. He tried to plug his ears but the urgent banging of the headboard and Megan’s cries of joy slipped past his fingers. Oh, how his little penis ached!

Ethan had to endure another half hour of their lovemaking before the house finally quieted down. Nevertheless, he tossed and turned for quite a while before he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Warm morning sun shone into the nursery, diffused by the gauzy pink curtains in the window. Ethan could hear birds outside and the others moving about elsewhere in the house but he knew better than to get up. He was only allowed out of his crib when either Megan or his mother-in-law chose to come get him. Until that time, he was required to lie quietly, experiencing the unpleasant feeling of his soaking wet diapers surrounding him and clinging to his skin.

As much as he wanted to be changed, he dreaded the inevitable humiliating meeting with Megan’s lover. He couldn’t imagine being in more shameful circumstances than he was this morning. Greeting his wife’s lover while laying in his baby crib wearing wet diapers was going to be utterly mortifying, that was for sure.

At last the door swung open and Megan came strolling in, followed by her boyfriend. He was much taller than Ethan had expected and his handsome, craggy features revealed how much better looking he was too. He was wearing a pair of boxers and his broad, muscular chest was lightly covered in hair.

Ethan cringed and whimpered against his pacifier as his wife came over and lowered the rail to his crib.

“Good morning, sissy,” she said brightly, “It’s time for you to meet your new daddy.”

Ethan drew his Disney Princess blankets around him protectively, trying to hide his embarrassing baby outfit and diapers from the masculine stranger. With one hand, Megan pulled away his blankets and with the other, tugged him out of the crib, sitting him on the floor of the nursery before them.

“Ethan, say hello to Frank–you are to refer to him as ‘Daddy’ or 'Sir’, at all times,” she told him, her slim hands resting on her curvy hips.

Megan never went nude around Ethan anymore and this morning, she was wearing a sexy thong and her breathtaking push-up bra.

Ethan blushed hotly, squirming in his seat as the big man looked down on him with a smug smile.

“Well sissy boy, now I can see why Megan wasn’t getting satisfied–looks to me like the only thing you could handle is jerking yourself off,” he said in a mocking, deep voice filled with confidence.

Ethan gulped with shame as his cheeks and ears burned red.

“He’s a little embarrassed because you pegged him exactly right–instead of trying to satisfy me, he used to play with himself every day,” Megan explained.

“I see your mommy made the right decision–putting you back in diapers and chastity, you certainly don’t belong in a man’s world,” Frank observed dryly.

Megan giggled as she boldly looked down at her intimidated sissy husband.

“Ethan, why don’t you tell Frank here why you have to wear diapers and plastic panties.”

Sitting there with the soaking wet cloth surrounding him, he blushed furiously.

“Come on, baby boy,” she prompted him.

“It’s c-cause I’m a b-bedwetter, Sir,” he said, his shaking voice practically a whisper.

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head, “now I’ve seen everything.”

Megan began stroking her boyfriend’s big cock through his boxers and Ethan could tell it was enormous.

“And now it’s time for you to thank your daddy for making love to me and finally satisfying my needs,” Megan said with a smirk.

Ethan blushed deeper at her stinging words, swallowing hard nervously.

“Th-thank you, Sir…for…for pleasing my wife,” he stuttered haltingly. The words 'my wife’ sounded so incongruous in the present setting.

“That’s very good, but I think there’s a better way for you to show your appreciation,” Megan said as she continued stroking Frank’s growing erection. By now, it was tenting his underwear and Ethan feared Megan’s intentions.

Slowly peeling Frank’s boxers down, she revealed the biggest cock Ethan had ever laid eyes on. It was truly massive! Her hands looked small as she gripped the wide base of his shaft, unable to span the huge circumference

His fearful eyes darted from the big bulbous tip to Megan’s mischievously grinning face.

“M-Mommy–please–please don’t make me do it,” he pleaded desperately.

Frank had his hands on his hips, looking god-like, as he stood arrogantly before the weak sissy.

“You’ve got about five seconds before I pull those wet diapers down and put you over my knee,” Frank warned him menacingly.

Ethan gulped with fear–this guy looked like he could break him in two like a twig!

Hesitantly, Ethan leaned forward, unsure just how to proceed.

Without another word, Frank suddenly grabbed the back of his head and simply jammed his big cock into the sissy’s quivering mouth.

Ethan squealed loudly, his jaws barely able to open wide enough to take in the gigantic head of the man’s magnificent cock. His jaws were stretching and his lips made a tight seal around the big mushroom shaped head. It felt warm in his mouth and he felt it pulsing eagerly, throbbing with his need. Already, Ethan could taste the salty, pre-cum that was oozing out of the tip and onto the back of his waiting tongue.

He struggled to back away from the monster being thrust down his throat but Frank maintained a steely grip on his head.

“Use your tongue, sissy boy,” he barked sternly.

Scared to defy him, Ethan swirled his tongue under the throbbing underside of his manhood, slurping the sensitive gland that ran the along the front of his mighty sword-like shaft. Frank let out a sigh and he relaxed his grip ever so slightly but not enough to allow the sissy to escape.

Ethan’s cheeks were bulging wide and he marveled at the fat girth of this man’s member. Frank began pushing it in until it bottomed out against the back of the sissy’s throat and he heard Ethan beginning to choke. Then, he slowly eased it out before plunging it back in again.

Meanwhile, Megan was grinning ear to ear and she took out her cell phone, happily snapping close up pictures of Ethan’s mouth filled to capacity with hard man meat.

“This is right where you belong,” she purred, “On your knees, with a big cock shoved in your mouth.”

“Get ready Diaper boy,” Frank said in a husky voice, “cause I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re going to swallow every last drop.”

Ethan whimpered in anguish but his jaws were stretched to the limit trying to take in the massive shaft pistoning in and out of his warm, wet mouth.

Suddenly Frank held his breath and he backed his cock out just enough to keep the head in Ethan’s mouth. With a loud roar, he blew his manly load, filling the sissy’s mouth with warm, creamy semen. Ethan’s eyes went wide and he squealed as he waved his hands in helpless desperation. Forced to swallow the sticky goo that was overflowing his mouth, he tried to back off but Frank held his head firmly as he sprayed another big load down his throat.

Megan clapped her hands with glee as her sissy hubby struggled with what seemed like a gallon of semen. No sooner did he swallow one load than another erupted into his eager mouth.

“Good job, cocksucker,” Frank commended the distraught pansy in a condescending voice, “Just keep swallowing.”

Ethan was waving his hands in protest but there was little he could do.

The inside of his mouth was lined with a slick coating of cum and as the gargantuan cock finally popped out his mouth, his tongue unconsciously licked his sperm covered lips.

“Don’t worry–you’ll get plenty of chances to practice. I always wake up with a hard-on and every time I stay the night here, you can count on giving me a blow job,” Frank informed him.

Ethan was crushed with humiliation. It was bad enough that he had to tolerate his wife sleeping with another man (in his deluded mind, Ethan still thought he had some say in the matter), but now he had to get on his knees and suck this man’s cock every morning? How degraded could he get?

Six months later…

“Quite struggling sissy…” Helen sternly warned Ethan as she began firmly applying greater pressure to the big blunt dildo positioned between his trembling cheeks.

He was bent over her lap, with his thick diapers unpinned and pulled back between his smooth, girlish legs. His baby dress and petticoats were piled around his torso and a look of dire concern was on his face.

“Oh! No, Nana–its too big!” he squealed as he helplessly waved his hands in the air.

“I know its bigger than your usual nozzle, but a sissy like you can take it–spread your legs wider and relax, it will go in much easier for you if you just submit.”

The nozzle, which resembled a very large, lifelike rubber cock, was attached to a long white hose that ran upwards and ended at a glistening red rubber enema bag, hanging from a hook that was bursting with two quarts of hot, soapy water.

Ethan’s bottom was still showing some residual markings from a hard spanking he’d received the other day and he was reluctant to say or do anything in opposition to his strict, domineering mother-in-law.

“Come on sissy–be a good boy for momma,” she urged him in her usual kind but condescending tone.  

Whimpering and bunching his fists, Ethan did as he was told, submissively spreading his legs wider and trying to relax enough to allow the rubber leviathan to get past his puckering, reluctant sphincter.

“Theeere you go,” she said with satisfaction as she finally pushed the big, bulbous head inside him, making him squeal loudly.

“OHHHH!!” Ethan cried as his eyes went wide.

“There you go,” she said again, twirling the slippery fat rubber nozzle around inside him before slowly pushing it in farther.

Ethan’s tight hole was stretched to the very limit as the huge nozzle was pushed in even further and he moaned weakly. While it was true that he had become somewhat used to being invaded like this, either from Megan’s strap-on dildo, or his mother-in-law’s usual enema nozzle, this one was much bigger.

Helen pushed it until it bottomed out, eliciting more girlish moans and squeals from her weak-willed, sissy son-in-law.

She smiled to herself when she thought of what Megan had in mind to announce to him later today and this emasculating enema seemed like the perfect prelude to that meeting. She had found that a good soapy enema always left Ethan feeling a little more subdued, compliant, and submissive, and willing to accept further humiliations more readily. She had in mind to make him wear his biggest, fattest butt plug during the meeting, which would only further embarrass him.

They were in Ethan’s nursery and Helen could see the look of angst on his face, reflected on the wall mirror across from them. She toyed with the nozzle a bit and then plunged it back in all the way before holding it there steady.

“Ready, baby Ethan?” she asked cheerfully.

The poor sissy found he was never ready to receive his enema but of course, it was truly a rhetorical question. He was going to get his purging whether he was ready or not.

Sure enough, without waiting for an answer, his mother-in-law released the clip on the hose and hot soapy water surged unhindered, deep into his bowels.

“Unnngg,” Ethan grimaced.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, gasping as he tried to deal with the feeling of fullness that was quickly developing inside him. Glancing up at the mirror, he saw his mother-in-law with her usual, smug, superior expression on her face. She was wearing a pretty white blouse that she had purposely unbuttoned to show off her deep cleavage but at the moment, that was the last thing on Ethan’s mind.

Open and closed, taking her time, she carefully manipulated the clip, watching him squirm and waiting until she thought he could take another dose of the warm, sudsy liquid before opening the clip again.

When she had first started administering enemas to him nine months ago, he had barely been able to take a quart, but since then, she had learned that by stretching out the process, and patiently making him take it over a longer period of time, a much greater quantity of the soapy water could be taken in. And she wanted to make sure he took in every possible drop for a nice, full, punishing enema.

Helen often used these sessions to scold him for his shortcomings or some failure on his part with the housework, which had become his primary task in the household. Bent over her lap and completely at her mercy, Ethan could do little more than squeal and moan helplessly as she scolded him like an errant child.

Today, however, she decided to use it to give him some rare praise.

“Frank tells me you’ve become quite the little cocksucker,” she remarked while she was waiting for the water to settle inside of him.

Ethan moaned and squirmed on her lap, trying in vain to get comfortable.

“Yes, he says you’re the best cocksucker he’s ever had and that you can make him cum in less than five minutes now…that’s quite an achievement,” she remarked sardonically.

Sensing that he could take some more, Helen undid the clip and another powerful surge of soapy water gushed into Ethan’s waiting bottom.

“He says he looks forward to his mornings here when he knows you’ll eagerly slurp and suck on his big cock, anxious to swallow his huge loads of creamy cum.”

Ethan blushed with bitter shame. He hated having to get on his knees for his wife’s lover and submit to giving him blowjobs like a cheap hooker, but he’d already suffered several blistering spankings over the larger man’s lap and didn’t want to experience another one again. To Ethan, five minutes of degradation (and the humiliating, demeaning comments that followed) were well worth avoiding the pain and suffering of one of Frank’s hard paddlings.

“Its good that a sissy bedwetter like you knows his place and has finally found something that you’re good at,” she said, sounding almost genuine in her flattery, “To be sure–your place in this house is on your knees, with his big fat cock, balls deep in your mouth.

"What’s it like when he blows his load down your throat? Do you have a hard time swallowing it all? He says you don’t gag anymore so you must have really mastered the skill.”

Ethan was moaning and squirming–most of the rubber enema bag was empty now and he could feel the volume of warm water distending his belly and giving him cramps.

“If you were more of a man, maybe you’d be in the other room, making love to my daughter. Instead, you’re in here, with your diapers pulled down, bent over my lap getting a long, soapy enema…I’d say you’re right where you belong, wouldn’t you?”

Ethan lay there and moaned weakly until his mother-in-law pushed the dildo in to prompt him.

“Wouldn’t you?” she asked again more forcefully.

“Y-yes ma'am,” he squeaked, “This-this is where I belong.”

Helen rewarded his submissive obedience with another surge of soapy water.

Ethan gritted his teeth and swallowed the groan escaping his lips as he reflected how true her words were. He had gone from being 'the man of the house’, to being the cocksucking, baby cuckold of the house, subject to daily humiliations and punishments at his cruel mother-in-law’s hands. She had become his primary caretaker, although it was questionable just how much caring she did. Since Megan had become more and more deeply involved in her affair with Frank, Helen had assumed the role of Ethan’s babysitter and guardian, changing his wet diapers and dressing him for the day, feeding him in his highchair and putting him down in his crib for his naptime.

Finally, the last soapy suds disappeared into Ethan’s pink bottom, but Helen held the nozzle firmly in place, just to make sure. Ethan whimpered weakly, praying silently that she would allow him up to release the churning liquid in his bowels.

At last, to his utter relief, he felt the wide, slippery nozzle easing out of his aching hole, along with his mother-in-law’s admonishment not to let any leak or he’d be right over her lap again for a blistering spanking.

Precariously, Ethan limped off to the bathroom where he spent the next ten minutes expelling the punishing liquid.

After he returned, he found his mother-in-law once again seated in the only chair in the room, a stool that served as Ethan’s spanking chair. Next to her on the changing table, was a tall, fluffy stack of diapers awaiting the emasculated sissy.

She beckoned him over impatiently, holding a large pink butt plug in her hand.

“Over here, Ethan,” she said as she took his hand and briskly guided him back over her lap.

He recognized it as his biggest one and he put up his other hand in protest.

“No Nana–please–not that one.”

Ignoring him as she always did, she firmly pulled him over her lap and forcefully spread his legs as Ethan whimpered miserably. Taking a big dollop of Vaseline, Helen pushed it up inside his hole and then positioned the imposing butt plug at his quivering anus. Fortunately, it had been stretched pretty thoroughly by his new enema nozzle so that when she began pushing the butt plug in, his sphincter was quickly defeated.

“OHHH!!” he cried as the fat plug slipped inside him, filling him completely.

“That’s my sissy boy,” she commended him as she patted his cheek and helped him over to the changing table.

Handing him his baby bottle of milk, she busied herself slathering his bottom with a sticky coating of diaper rash cream before powdering his hairless groin and tummy with baby powder. Looking down at the diminutive pink chastity cage imprisoning his little penis, she smiled again at her own resourcefulness. That tiny nub would never experience an orgasm again now that she was in charge of him, she thought with satisfaction.

Ethan studiously tried to ignore his mother-in-law’s big breasts swaying within her unbuttoned blouse as she reached past his head to get his diaper pins but he was unsuccessful. Nevertheless, he had discovered that so long as he didn’t actually stare at them for more than a few seconds, he wouldn’t suffer too greatly. It was those long periods of boring inactivity spent in his playpen, when his eyes would wander and fixate on her busty profile, that he would start to feel the pain in his tiny pee-wee.

And it was made worse by the fact that his diapers were so soft and fluffy–just brushing his hands against the slippery plastic front of them brought back pleasurable memories of his previously unrestrained masturbating habit, before chastity had been forcefully imposed upon him.

He certainty couldn’t complain that they were uncomfortable. The fact was–secretly–he loved wearing his bunny soft diapers. But putting aside the embarrassment of actually using them, he found them to be a double-edged sword. On one hand, they made him feel safe and secure, but on the other, they constantly teased him with their soft, spongy layers.

Helen selected a pretty yellow pair of Disney Princess-themed plastic panties and gathering the leg holes together, worked them over Ethan’s feet and ankles. These were a favorite of hers, since they had three cute white plastic rows of bouncy ruffles sewn across the top half of the seat. Working them over his fat, bulky diapers, she ran her fingers around the elastic waistband, making sure all the soft Birdseye cloth was contained inside.

“There–no need to worry about you wetting yourself and leaking now,” she said as she powdered between his legs, “Now you can play until naptime and I’ll change you then.”

Ethan bit his lip in embarrassment as he unconsciously glanced once more down his mother-in-law’s deep cleavage. It was becoming harder and harder to keep his diapers dry, even during the daytime. Often, he would have what he called 'accidents’, particularly if he were surprised suddenly, or scared in some way. It was always humiliating having to ask Helen for a diaper change during the day, and more often than not, she’d make him wear his wet diapers until naptime or bedtime, just to spite him.

Ethan was at a loss to explain his increasing loss of control during the day, but his mother-in-law seemed to expect little better from him.

“I think we’ll leave this top on you today,” Helen remarked as she began putting his glossy white Mary Janes over his feet. Made of soft, fuzzy fleece, the top matched his panties and had the humiliating script; ’Bedwetters wear diapers’ on the front.

It was all the same to Ethan these days, who obviously had no say in how he was dressed anyway, and he took Helen’s hand as she led him out of the nursery and into the kitchen where Megan was making coffee.

“Morning mom–would you like a cup?” she asked solicitously.

“That would be great, she said as she helped Ethan climb awkwardly up into his highchair. As soon as he’d settled into the seat, Helen moved the step stool away, leaving Ethan’s feet unsupported. The sissy shifted in his seat gingerly, the fat butt plug inside him making him feel invaded and serving as a constant reminder of his lowly position in the household. After securing his waist strap and his wrists, his mother-in-law busied herself feeding the captive sissy. Today, she was particularly haphazard with his feeding and his mouth and chin were soon caked with the slop of his breakfast.

Megan was fully dressed this morning and she wore a low cut sweater that clung deliciously to her mouthwatering bosom. Ethan presumed she was going somewhere, because she was wearing tall, high heeled pumps with a pair of silky slacks that were hugging her perfect figure. As usual, she looked very adult, while he looked like the epitome of a sloppy-faced, helpless toddler.

Suddenly, the front door opened and Frank came in, followed by a woman Ethan had never seen before. She was smartly dressed in a feminine pant suit and her expensive sunglasses lent her a very sophisticated air–in fact, everything about her exuded style and class.

Her hair was pulled back and arranged in an elegant manner, and she immediately strode across the room to get a better look at Ethan.

Even though by now, Ethan had become somewhat used to being exposed before others, each time it was someone new, he found it to be an excruciating experience. Removing her sunglasses, the woman came up to him and looked down on the squirming sissy, the disdain obvious on her pretty face. As the fat butt plug ground deeply into his back passage, Ethan helplessly felt his diapers suddenly growing wet and warm and he blushed furiously.

With his Mary Janes swinging uselessly, he struggled pathetically against his wrist straps and looked around the room, as if seeking help from Megan or his mother-in-law.

Reading the script on Ethan’s chest, the woman smirked condescendingly.

"So–this is your little bedwetter,” she remarked scornfully, “I can certainly see why you put him in diapers and found yourself a real man.”

Ethan whimpered as he felt another strong surge of hot pee flooding his diapers. This was SO humiliating!

He tried desperately to stop the flow as his fat, bulging diapers happily absorbed all his panic-induced pee.

“I have to confess that a part of me didn’t believe you, but now that I’ve actually seen him for myself, it all makes perfect sense,” the woman said as she turned to Frank and set a satchel she had been carrying down on the kitchen table.

Helen stepped forward and shook the woman’s hand.

“Ms. Milani, I’d like you to meet Ethan Grant–Megan’s sissy hubby,” she explained, “Yes, he is a chronic bedwetter and masturbator–or rather I should say–a former masturbator. Since he’s been in strict chastity for almost a year now, he’s been prevented from being able to play with himself like he used to.

"Needless to say, with his tiny, baby-sized penis, he was completely incapable of satisfying Megan–or any woman, for that matter.”

With the fat butt plug stuffed inside him, and his warm, wet diapers embracing him, Ethan felt vulnerable and inferior. He blushed with shame as Ms. Milani looked him over critically and shook her head, the disapproval written all over her pretty face.

“You smell like pee, powder, and pampers,” she remarked in a superior, patronizing tone.

Megan sauntered over to Frank and wrapped her lithe arms around him, reaching up to give him a passionate kiss of greeting. His big hands roamed all over her slim, curvy body as he kissed her back enthusiastically. Ethan blushed again and looked the other way, embarrassed to have his shameful cuckold status so blatantly demonstrated.

Finally, Megan released her embrace of Frank and turned to face Ethan.

“We have an announcement to make,” she said with a smile.

Rather than looking at her daughter, Helen turned to face Ethan, as if more interested to see what his reaction would be.

“Ethan, you are a pathetic excuse for a man. I have no idea why I ever agreed to marry you, but thankfully, Jordan here is going to take care of all that.

"I need a real man–not a sissy who can’t even keep his diapers dry.”

Walking over to look down at her cowering husband, Megan reached underneath the plastic tray and stuck a finger inside the elastic leg band of Ethan’s plastic panties.

“Oh my god–you’re wet again?? Can’t you even control your wetting during the day now?” she demanded.

Ethan blushed hotly as everyone in the room stared at him.

“It-it w-was…uh, an accident,” he stammered as he squirmed in his seat.

“You should paddle this little sissy when we’re done,” Megan said as she turned to face her mother.

“I’ll be happy to make him cry,” Helen said as she crossed her arms over her impressive chest and looked down at the sniveling sissy, “Jordan–if you’ve ever wanted to see a sissy bawling his eyes out like a baby, stick around.”

“I’ll do that,” she said as she began taking papers out of her satchel and arranging them on the table.

Mirroring her mother’s pose, Megan crossed her arms and looked down at Ethan.

“Well sissy, you don’t have many choices around here but today you have two. I can have our marriage annulled and have you tossed out in the street, or…”

Tears misted Ethan’s eyes and he held his breath…whatever else she was going to offer couldn’t possibly be worse than what she just suggested.

“Or…Frank has generously offered to let you move in with us, into a separate wing of his mansion. There, mom will be fully in charge of you–she has shown a real knack for how to handle bedwetters and sissies like you, so I know you’ll be in good hands. She’ll make sure you get all the diapers and discipline you so obviously need.

"Don’t worry–I’ll still come in and take you with my strap-on from time to time. Or maybe Frank will decide to pop your cherry…he’s mentioned your little sissy bottom might need a big hard cock on occasion.”

Ethan squirmed as he considered his choices, the intrusive fat butt plug only adding to his discomfort.

“And after our marriage is annulled, I will become your legal guardian–the inheritance you received last year will all go to me.”

Ethan swallowed hard as another strong surge of pee saturated his diapers.

“Well–what’s it going to be sissy boy?” she demanded.

“I-I…I wanna live with you,” he whimpered weakly, his cheeks burning with the shame of his capitulation.

“Very well,” Ms. Milani said, “I have everyone else’s signatures–I just need Ethan’s.”

Bringing over a sheath of papers, she placed one of them on the highchair’s pink plastic eating tray.

“This one recognizes that your marriage was brought about under false pretenses and should be annulled. Obviously, Megan thought she was getting a man out the arrangement but we both know that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Just sign here,” she said pointing to a place on the lengthy document.

Ethan sniffled and accepted the proffered pen, scribbling his signature on the line.

Placing another paper before him, she pointed at another line.

“And this one gives Megan complete rights over you as your legal guardian…I was able to find some ambiguous mental clauses that speak to your…immature behavior and childlike disposition.

"By signing this, you forfeit all your legal rights and won’t be able to do so much as get a library card anymore without Megan’s approval.”

Ethan cried softly as he submissively signed his name to the document, shamelessly handing over everything to his wife. Ms. Milani shook her head at his spineless display–it only confirmed in her mind that this is what he truly deserved.

Meanwhile, his mother-in-law had left the room to retrieve the paddle for his promised spanking.

“And lastly, this document relinquishes control over the inheritance you received last year. It now becomes the sole property of Megan.”

“Don’t worry baby–” Megan smirked, “I got you a piggy bank and your new allowance will be fifty cents a week.”

She watched eagerly as the defeated sissy signed away his rights to the staggering amount of money that he’d originally used to leverage his way into the marriage. Bitterly, he reflected how that deception had cost him!

His mother-in-law had returned, and was standing by his side now, the menacing long wooden Spencer paddle in her hand.

“And now, someone’s going to pay the piper for wetting his diapers,” she said as she began releasing him from the bonds of his highchair.

Ethan began crying openly now, his hands going up and waving in protest.

“No-no-no!” he wailed, stamping his feet in place. This was all so unfair!

First, he had just signed away every last bit of his rights and now he was going to be rewarded with a humiliating, painful spanking!

Taking a hold of his left wrist with her free hand, Helen jerked him forward and swatted him hard across his thickly padded, diapered seat. The sassy ruffles across the back of his plastic panties fluttered and then settled back down.  

“OWW!!” he cried out, causing the others to laugh at his weak, pathetic display.

With her commanding presence, Ethan didn’t dare stand up to his intimidating mother-in-law. He was about to get his bottom paddled and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Calmly seating herself on the armless kitchen chair, Helen reached over and began peeling his clinging plastic panties down off his sopping wet diaper. Tears of shame tumbled down Ethan’s cheeks as the childish smell of pee once more surrounded them, proving to everyone how little control he had.

“Well…I think this seems like a very appropriate way to start your new life, with a trip over momma’s lap for a good, hard spanking,” she said as she took the sniveling sissy over her knee.

In no time, his big, soggy diapers were unpinned and pulled back between his legs, exposing his tender bare bottom for punishment.

Ethan’s damp cheeks twitched and flexed as his sphincter nervously gripped the big butt plug lodged inside him, unable to expel it.

Without warning, the hard wooden paddle came down with a tremendous impact, loudly slapping both his soft, damp cheeks and flattening them before swinging back up for another vicious swat.

Ethan howled out in pain and shook his fists in the air as the paddle rained down in rapid succession on his quickly reddening bottom. Kicking his Mary Janes wildly, he slapped the floor miserably as his mother-in-law gripped him tighter and smacked his blazing bottom repeatedly with even greater force. The tears streamed down Ethan’s face to spill on the floor below him as he howled out with each nasty bite of the unforgiving paddle on his tender, scalded rump. The numerous air holes in the face of the paddle provided extra sting, while the hard solid oak ensured that the poor sissy would have difficulty sitting for days afterwards.

Helen had a well deserved reputation for efficiency and she made sure every square inch of his backside received its proper share of the paddle. When at last she was done, his bottom was thoroughly punished, bright red and swollen.

Ethan was crying hard, his breathing coming in ragged gasps as she helped him up on his shaky feet and stood him before the others. Ms. Milani looked down unsympathetically at his now exposed, caged little penis before gathering her papers and putting them back into her satchel. With his plastic panties tangled around his ankles, Ethan stood and cried unashamedly like a baby before everyone, partly from the spanking but also due to having been legally reduced to the status of a toddler.

But to be sure, his humiliating display only confirmed to Megan, the wisdom of the choices she’d made.

“Come on sissy–its time for your diaper change,” Helen said authoritatively as she firmly took his hand and led him out of the kitchen.

Ethan rubbed his scorched bottom as the tears continued to stream down his cheeks.

Now that his status had been confirmed, Helen thought she would try and cheer him up a bit.

“Frank tells me he spared no expense and you can look forward to a totally fabulous baby nursery when we move in with them,” she said enthusiastically, “Lots of baby toys, dollies, new outfits–everything a diaper-wetting, pampered princess could desire. Won’t that be wonderful?”

Ethan shrugged helplessly. Now he was well and truly trapped.

“Of course, now that you’ll be in the same house with him, I think you can expect to start off each day with his big hard cock in your mouth,” she added.

Ethan sniffled miserably as he looked down at his own tiny little penis, locked away forever in its thimble-sized pink cage, never to be hard again.

“Oh, and I’ve found a babysitter to help me out when I have my own errands to run. I know you’ll just love her–she’s very pretty and well–let’s just say you won’t have any objection to her body,” she said with a conspiratorial wink.

“Her name is Tiffany Johnson.”

THE END

***************************************************************

EPILOGUE

…Six months later

Tiffany Johnson slowly stirred the cup of cappuccino on the table before her, admiring Helen’s crisp, businesslike efficiency. Since she’d met the older woman six months ago, she had been very impressed with her natural authority and strict, no-nonsense style. Tiffany was convinced that she was perfectly suited to be Ethan’s guardian.

“You’ve done a magnificent job here,” she praised Helen, “Rarely have I seen a sissy so completely and thoroughly controlled.”

Helen smiled proudly, “Well, you’ve been a big part of that, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help,” she replied with humility.

“Oh no, you had it all taken care of by the time I came in. I just helped you to be able to take a break, from time to time.”

“And I’m very grateful for that,” Helen said, “Taking care of a big sissy baby is a lot of work. The laundry alone is a full-time job.”

They both laughed.

“Oh trust me–I know,” she said as they unconsciously turned their heads to gaze at the diapered ex-husband quietly playing with his toys in the playpen across the room.

Ethan was sitting on his bottom, his legs folded back on either side as he hummed to himself and stacked a set of large plastic blocks arranged inside the mesh walled enclosure. Today, he was wearing a short, babyish pink top, one his mother-in-law had picked out to make sure his diapers wouldn’t get wet when she put him down for his nap later on. As usual these days, he had his big rubber pacifier in his mouth, an object that had become something of a fixture for the diapered sissy. Indeed, he often became fussy if it was taken away, and it, along with his teddy bear, were never far from him at any given time.

Suddenly, and without any realization on his part, Ethan began steadily wetting his diapers. He rarely noticed it anymore, and his wetting had become as natural as his breathing. In fact, it had become so ordinary, he usually didn’t even notice it until several hours had passed and the layers of soft Birdseye cotton started getting cool and clammy inside his plastic panties. And since he wasn’t allowed to sit anywhere, except in his nursery or playpen, those places tended to smell like stale pee from the occasional leaks he experienced. Helen had grown immune to the smell, and she reasoned it was just the price to be paid in taking care of any incontinent toddler or in this case, an adult sissy baby.

Nevertheless, whenever Megan came into this wing of the mansion, she often remarked on the smell, making sure to humiliate Ethan while she was at it.

As the pee continued to flow uninterrupted, the thick seat of his diapers–which had only been changed not thirty minutes before–soon became soggy and saturated, and the warm cotton cloth hugged Ethan’s bottom closely. Eventually, it would work its way up around the sides and front of his diapers, until every square inch was completely soaked.

While wet diapers were an unfortunate reality for Ethan, at least he didn’t have to worry about messing himself–his mother-in-law’s daily enema regime prevented that.

Today, he was wearing a new pair of pink rubber panties over some cute nursery print diapers–Helen liked them for the snug, waterproof seal they made around his thighs without being too tight.

“How are the plans going for the wedding?” Tiffany asked, returning her attention back to her host.

“Excellent–Frank has made arrangements to throw a huge wedding and reception,” Helen said until a thought interrupted her own line of thinking, “–Which reminds me–before I forget–Can you babysit Ethan on that day? There won’t be any need for him to be there.”

“Sure thing, its such a special day, I would love to help in any way I can.”

Ethan was oblivious to their conversation about his former wife getting remarried as he carefully stacked more of the big plastic blocks in a row. In any case, he was used to being excluded in most discussions between adults so he generally didn’t notice anymore when they happened to be talking about him.

With his back to her, his former mother-in-law stood up and walked over to the playpen, reaching down to slip a finger into the back of Ethan’s diaper. He squealed with surprise and sat up, accidentally knocking his blocks over.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Helen chuckled, “I was just checking your diapers.”

Ethan relaxed as she pulled him up and had him step awkwardly out of the playpen. Leading him back to the table, she gently sat him in her lap and arranged him in such a way so that he was facing Tiffany.

“Did mommy’s wittle baby wet his diapers?” she asked solicitously, in her syrupy, sing-song voice for toddlers.

Pulling aside the elastic waistband of his pink rubber panties, she reached in tentatively, checking the cotton cloth on the sides and back carefully. Ethan whimpered through the pacifier filling his mouth, looking around and blushing as Tiffany gazed back at him.

“Oh baby–you are soaked!” Helen announced, “Absolutely soaked.”

Ethan squirmed on her lap, embarrassed that her statement was news to him as well as them.

“Mommy’s going to have to change you and then it will be naptime, Baby Bunnykins,” she told him, using her recent pet name for him.

The relationship between them had evolved considerably over the last twelve months. She now treated him with genuine affection, as if he really were her baby grandson.

Two years ago, when they’d first met, Helen had immediately disliked, then actively resented him, constantly plotting his eventual downfall. But once Megan had taken firm control of their relationship and began cuckolding him, those feelings slowly began to recede in the distance, to be replaced by maternal feelings of warmth and caring. She now looked at Ethan as if he were her own incontinent toddler, fussing over him like any doting mother would, while still keeping him under her strict, absolute authority.

Her captive sissy squirmed in her lap, uncomfortable being the object of their attentions.

“Tiff–would you get his bottle for me?–it’s in the warmer over there,” she said nodding at the counter.

“Sure thing,” she said as she went over to retrieve it.

Taking out Ethan’s pacifier, a string of saliva followed it and his mouth retained the 'O’ shape from having been sucking on the object all afternoon. He squealed and whimpered a bit but Helen promptly pushed the warm, wet nipple of his bottle between his lips, silencing his whining.

“There there, baby,” she said soothingly as she held the bottle in place, “drink your ba-ba.”

Ethan did as he was told, nevertheless humiliated at his childish treatment in front of Tiffany.

“Are those new baby panties?” Tiffany asked as she gently stroked the soft front of Ethan’s fat, bulging diapers.

“Yes–I decided to give rubber panties a try. They have some definite advantages over vinyl ones. I really like the watertight seal around his thighs with these–I can hold him on my lap and not have to worry about him leaking on my legs anymore.”

Tiffany looked down at Ethan’s pee-soaked diapers with newfound appreciation.

“No matter how much he wets—now it all stays contained inside the panties, which is where it belongs,” Helen explained as she gently patted the front of his diapers, “And my little baby bedwetter wets a lot, doesn’t he?”

Ethan blushed with shame but nodded his head submissively.

“That’s okay, sissykins…your mommy should have never let you out of your diapers, you know that?”

Ethan’s cheeks burned with humiliation and his eyes darted around anxiously, but he nodded again like the obedient pantywaist that he was.

“Oh well,” she said with a satisfied smile, “that’s all in the past. Your diapers are here to stay now–everyone knows you can’t go without them anymore.”

Gently, she helped him up to his feet, replacing her hand on the bottle with his so he could take over holding it.

“Come on baby, let’s go change your diapers and get you ready for your crib–it’s baby’s naptime.”

Ethan waddled after her sheepishly, totally resigned to his daily routines by now. Tiffany followed them both down the hall and into his nursery, which was much more elaborate than the one he had had at Megan’s house. Everywhere one looked, cute, babyish frills and touches abounded, from his girlish pink rocking horse, with the optional dildo fitting in the seat, to his fancy white and pink crib, layered with fluffy baby blankets.

Of course, despite the delicate, little-girl feel of the room, one could not help but notice the ever pungent, sour smell of his diaper pail that pervaded the room and reminded the visitor that a helplessly incontinent sissy and bedwetter lived here. It definitely gave the room a childish aura, distinctly separating it from every other room in the house.

Suddenly, they heard the doorbell ring, and Helen turned to face Tiffany.

“Would you be so kind as to see who that is? I have my hands full with little Miss Priss, here.”

Tiffany chuckled and nodded her head, leaving the room to go see who it was at the door.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Helen said assured him, “Mommy’s going to get you changed out of those wet pampers right away, and then its beddie-bye time.”

Ethan nursed his bottle as Helen pulled his stretchy, clinging rubber panties down off his soggy diaper, setting them next to the large diaper pail to her right. Unpinning his diaper, they heard voices coming from down the hallway.

“…As a matter of fact, he’s getting his diapers changed as we speak…”

Ethan anxiously bit his lip in confusion. Who could it be that was paying him a visit?

Without missing a beat, Helen pulled his heavy wet diapers from under his bottom and placed them also next to the changing table, the strong smell of pee surrounding them. Ethan looked anxiously at the doorway, watching as Tiffany came back into the room, a big smile on her pretty face, followed by someone immediately behind her.

“Mrs. Grant–say hello to your sissy son,” she said by way of introduction.

At the moment, Helen was gripping Ethan’s ankles over his head as she smeared diaper rash cream across his baby soft cheeks, giving them a nice, sticky coating of protection against his naptime wetting. The moment he saw his mom, he began desperately kicking his feet, struggling to be free of Helen’s steel-like grasp. Nevertheless, she easily held him in place and used her free hand to slide a thick stack of fresh diapers under the squirming sissy. As she lowered his legs, Ethan looked up to see his mom shaking her head in disdain at him.

“You’re just in time…” Helen announced, “I happen to be in the middle of changing his wet diapers before putting him down for his nap.”

Ethan jerked the baby bottle out of his mouth as his cheeks flushed a bright red. Never had he felt so embarrassed and vulnerable! To have his own flesh-and-blood mother witnessing him being changed like a helpless toddler in his baby nursery was too much to bear.

“Well, Ethan…” his mom said, her voice heavy with scorn, “Looks like you’re right where you belong. I guess it was expecting too much that you’d ever grown up and become a man. This nursery certainly suits you.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Helen asked, the pride obvious in her voice, “I have everything I need to take care of a bedwetting sissy baby like Ethan here.”

Mrs. Grant looked around the room, marveling at how perfectly babyish everything looked. Besides the crib and rocking horse, a big pink dresser with a row of stuffed animals and dolls on top stood next to another playpen, and the walls surrounding them had a playful, Disney Princess theme. There was a wide assortment of toys to play with and childish coloring books were stacked neatly on a low bookshelf.

Looking down at her son, she noticed the soggy wet diaper lying next to him and then she stared at his tiny little package imprisoned within a small, restrictive pink cage.

“Finally…someone has taken steps to curb his disgusting masturbating habit,” she said sourly.

Tears of humiliation brimmed Ethan’s eyes. Although he had often wondered how his mom would react if she were ever to see him again, this was hardly proving to be a welcome meeting.

“Yes, this is the tiniest cage I could find. It has a nice, inch and a half flexible shaft that goes up deep inside his urethra. Believe me when I tell you he hasn’t been able to escape or get an erection since it’s been locked in place.

"I don’t tolerate masturbators in this house, especially sissy masturbators,” Helen told her, “I’m just glad we could find one small enough to fit his baby-sized pee-wee.”

Tiffany nodded in silent agreement.

“I’m sorry to say that Ethan never measured up in a lot of ways,” his mother stated, the disappointment obvious in her voice.

Ethan bit his lip in angst, squirming with shame as they spoke of him in such disparaging terms.

The fact was–as a man, he was a total failure. He could only take some small consolation that in the role of a sissy baby, he seemed eminently suited. Indeed, considering his lifelong issues with bedwetting–he seemed born for the role.

Helen began sprinkling fragrant baby powder over Ethan’s diaper area, the infantile scent quickly surrounding him. His cheeks blazed with humiliation at his mom seeing him treated in such an immature, baby-like fashion. Not only that–she seemed to fully approve of his treatment. Ethan had been sure that if she knew exactly what was going on over here that she’d storm in and put a stop to it. Given that he had no backbone of his own, he had been counting on his mother to come over and rescue him. But quite the contrary–she apparently knew all about his lifestyle, Helen’s methods, and was behind it 100%.

Helen pushed the wet rubber nipple of his baby bottle back into his trembling mouth and resumed his diapering.

“I put two thick soaker pads down the center of his diapers,” she patiently explained to his mother, “Ethan’s really a heavy wetter–as you can see, and the extra padding is necessary when those floodgates open.”

She reached down and beeped his nose playfully.

“Yes, he’s always been hopeless,” his mom lamented, her arms crossed over her chest, “He wet his bed every night all through his school years and sometimes, he’d come home having wet his pants too. I suppose I should have just put him in full time diapers a long time ago.”

“Well–better late than never, ” Helen smiled as she cheerfully pulled the thick, fluffy cotton up between his girlish legs and pinned each side snug and tight with a pink safety pin, “Needless to say, we won’t be wasting any time trying to potty train him.

"Nope. The only underwear you’ll ever wear is thick diapers and rubber panties from now on, Ethan.”

With that, she began working the damp pink rubber panties back up his smooth legs and over his big, bulging diapers. Ethan whimpered as she pulled them along his soft, hairless skin–the elasticized legs holes were cool and damp from his previous wetting but he knew it was futile to argue with Helen about it. One time, he had thrown a tantrum about it and all it got him was a blistering spanking, followed by the same wet panties.

At last, the rubber panties were in place, the buttery, smooth material stretched tightly over his diapers and Helen quickly dusted between his soft thighs with more baby powder.

“Looks like baby Ethan’s all ready for naptime now,” Helen announced brightly.

He felt deeply ashamed to be facing his mother like this but he also knew there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He had to face the facts–all his life, he’d been nothing but a big sissy. And Helen was the first one to really recognize that–she had pegged him as a sissy from day one. He had never planned on losing such total control to a woman who was, after all, the mother of his former wife, but now that he had–he knew there was no turning back.

As he climbed into his crib, his soft but thick diapers forced his legs apart and the waterproof mattress sheet crinkled loudly beneath him.

It could be worse. It could always be worse.

As it stood now, he had someone who truly cared for him, there were no financial concerns anymore, and his wetting was no longer a source of stress that it used to be. Indeed, his only worries now, centered around avoiding his next spanking, what baby food Helen would feed him, how long he’d have to wear his wet diapers, and what sort of humiliating activity Frank and Megan had planned for him.

Helen took his empty baby bottle and pushed the big rubber pacifier back between his lips. Bending down, she kissed him softly on his forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Baby Bunnykins,” she said as she raised the side of his crib and clicked it closed.

“Bye Mommy,” he said to his former mother-in-law, although the fat, rubbery pacifier ensured it came out babyishly muffled and incoherent.

Helen turned the mobile on over his head and a pleasant nursery rhyme began playing soothing music to the submissive, diapered sissy. In no time, he would relax and nod off, dreaming innocent dreams of bunnies, teddy bears, and soft things, all while his diapers steadily grew soggy and wet all over again within his brave rubber panties.

Katy the Babysitter

You were desperately waiting outside the bathroom, needing to use the toilet. The night had gotten late, and the party outside had gotten lively. One by one, people had started to leave, and you'd completely lost track of time as you drank and laughed along with your friends, until the all-too-familiar pressure in your bladdar gently warned you to take your leave.

Excusing yourself, you briskly made your way to the nearest bathroom, where you were met by a firmly locked handle. As you tried to turn it, it clicked loudly, juddering to a halt. From the bathroom, you heard a faint, musical voice. "One minute!!"

Oh god, it was Katy, the host. She was housesitting for a family she usually babysat for and had decided to throw this little get-together at the last minute. So this was where she had ended up. Not five minutes ago, she had stood, drunkenly exclaiming she was going to make use of the pool, and that she hadn't brought her bikini here for nothing. No man had dared to argue with her logic. She was popular, and many eyes slid to follow her as she stumbled her way into the house to change.

You mind returning to your predicament, you let out a small whimper as your hand shot down in between your legs, trying to hold yourself until Katy finished changing and made her way back outside. You briefly considered looking for an alternative bathroom, but what if that too was in use? Then who knows how long it would take to make it to a toilet, and you didn't have the strongest bladder at the best of times.

Finally, the door in front of you opened, and Katy sauntered out, freshly changed into her new bikini, locking eyes and smiling sweetly at you. Her figure was to die for, and at the sight of the swimwear hugging her shapely body, your mind lost focus on controlling your bladder for a second too long.

You gasped as a small jet squirted out of you, dampening the fabric of your shorts, a pulse of warmth spreading quickly across your crotch. Katy noticed immediately, of course, and her hand went to her mouth in shock as you pushed your way past her into the open bathroom, slamming the cubicle door shut behind you.

You ripped down down your soaked shorts to sit on the toilet, finally finding relief. You could hear Katy laughing from outside the door. "Did I see you just wet your pants?"

"Yeah, no thanks to you!" You said bitterly, "you had me waiting outside the bathroom while you frolicked around in here, taking all the time in the world to change... For fucks sake."

You could hear her drunken giggling coming from behind the door. "Get real, I was only in here for a minute, you really couldn't hold it for that long?"

Your face flushed red as you processed her words. "No, I have a weak... Just.. Next time find an empty room or something to change in, okay?"

"Okay, okay... I'm sorry, alright? Do you need a change of pants?" Her apologetic tone of voice betrayed a shift towards a return to sobriety. Her slightly mother-like tone of voice rubbed you the wrong way, but at the same time, strangely excited you. At the very least she wanted to help you.

You assessed the damage bunched around your ankles. Your dark shorts had avoided the brunt of your accident, but your underwear was soaked through. Putting them back on would cause your shorts to get even more damp. "Uh, I just need a change of underwear. There was only a tiny leak, but I don't want to put a pair of wet underwear back on." You lied, downplaying the amount of urine that had thoroughly soaked through your underwear.

Katy paused thoughtfully outside the door. "Okay! One of the guys I babysit is around your size, I'll grab something for you."

You huffed as you waited in the bathroom while she fetched you some clean underwear. After what felt like an hour but was more like five minutes, Katie made her return, calling out to you. "Hey, you still in there?"

"It's not like I can just leave like this, did you find something??"

She was quick to respond triumphantly, "Of course I did, I'll leave the underwear for you here on the sink."

You heard a rustle as she left your change on the bathroom sink and gently closed the door behind her as to give you some modicum of privacy. You gingerly swung open the stall door, cautious to make sure she wasn't still there.

Your eyes caught sight of what she had left you, a pair of light blue underwear sitting neatly on the left side of the faucet. You washed your hands quickly, wanting to get changed so you wouldn't continue hogging the bathroom, but as you picked up the the underwear Katy had put out for you, you realised there was more to it than you had originally thought. The material was thick and rough, and the sides were a frilly, stretchy material. She had left you a pair of small, teenager's pullups.

"What the... Did you go and get me.. A diaper??" You angrily shot at her, knowing she was still behind the bathroom door, as her vague silhouette could still be seen through the glazed glass.

"It's not a diaper... it's just a pullup. There's no tapes or anything, and they apparantly feel just the same as regular underwear." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Stop messing around and get me a pair of proper underwear, I dont need this!" You indignantly spluttered to her, heat rising in your cheeks.

Katy's muffled response came through the door. "There IS no regular underwear, the guy I babysit that lives in this house still needs to wear pullups during the day, so he wasn't bought any underwear! Why do you think he still needs a babysitter at his age?? Just hurry up and put it on, no-one will notice, and hey, you won't have to worry about having any more little leaks in your pants like before..."

You were lost for words, but tired of arguing. At least she had done you the courtesy of trying to help. You thought what the hell and quickly pulled them on, the soft material gliding up your legs and snapping down around your manhood; enveloping all of you a little too easily. It was almost like the pullups were made for you.

Next you hastily slid your shorts up and over, washed your soiled underwear in the sink and threw them into your pocket.

You caught a glimpse in the mirror of your new underwear poking out of your shorts, so you made a note to pull your shorts up even higher. you meekly made your way out of the bathroom, seeing Katy waiting impatiently for you outside, arms crossed in front of her chest. "Well? Did you put it on?" She asked with a slight slur.

"Yes!! Now shut up about it." You hissed at her through your teeth, nervously glancing around you both to make sure nobody was within earshot. It was bad enough that she was aware of your diaper, but to have even more people find out wouldn't bear even thinking about.

You both rejoined the party outside, although the numbers had dwindled considerably in the time you had spent in the bathroom.

Katy broke from you, and made a splash as she jumped into the pool, and cheers rose here and there at the spectacle. You slowly sank into an empty chair, the padding of your pullups spreading softly underneath your legs. It was like sitting on a soft, down pillow. You hated to admit it, but it was actually quite comfortable. You reached over to pull another beer from the cooler, and trying to push your compromised position from your mind, rejoined the conversation.

* * * * *

Another hour passed, and everybody but you, Katy and three others had taken their leave. The music was turned way down, a gentle, bass-heavy pulse continued steadily underneath your conversation. Empty bottles and lids were scattered thoughtlessly across the lawn, the verandah light glinting off the discarded glass.

Katy sat across from you, a towel loosely wrapped around her small shoulders. You met eyes with her, and a small smile spread across her lips as she glanced down to your lap. You unconsciously moved her hands down to cover your shorts, blushing quickly at her knowing gaze. You stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom one more time before going home yourself. You felt Katy's eyes follow you as you walked towards the house, and heard her exclaim, "Alright, that's about time. I've gotta get up early for school tomorrow. Get outta here, guys."

The other men stood with a sigh, it was obvious that they had stuck around until the party's close with the hope of staying the night with the dark-haired bombshell. You supposed that nobodies night was going according to plan. You had made it in front of the bathroom door once again when you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You spun around, startled, to see Katy's smiling face looking up at you.

"Katy..." you started, doing your best to hold eye contact with her, distracting as her apparel was. "Aren't you forgetting something?" She teased, stepping closer to you. Your breath caught in your throat as the soft scent of chlorine from her body met your nose. "I was just going to use the bathroom, then head on home... Thanks a bunch for the invite..."

She shook her head at your words and stepped closer still. "I don't think you need to use the bathroom any more..." she giggled, pointing to your shorts. You looked down to the front of your light pants, not seeing anything. She brought her hand to the front of your shorts and gently pushed, and you gasped as you felt something warm and wet squish against your front. You had pissed your diaper without even realising it. Maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was the false sense of comfort wearing the pullups had given you, but it was unmistakable. At the very least, the front of your pullups were completely soaked, and you had a feeling the bottom would be the same too.

"I... Uh... How... Did you know??" Your mind completely blank, having no idea what else to say.

Katy put her hands on her hips again, and scoffed. "I told you before that I work here as a baby-sitter! And I happen to have a very good idea of when a diaper... I mean pullups... are full. It didn't take a genius to see how much your shorts slowly expanded over the last hour, I'm actually surprised nobody else noticed. Why didn't you just go and use the bathroom?"

Your words died in your throat, there was no way you were going to tell her that you weren't aware you had been wetting your pants for the better part of an hour.

She sighed, pushing you towards the bathroom. "Take a shower and clean yourself up, I'll get you some pyjamas."

"That's okay Katy, I'll just get my stuff together and head home." You said meekly, the embarrassment of your wet pair of pullups making you want to disappear as fast as you could.

"I'm not letting you go home in your condition. You're fine to stay the night. I'll get you some clothes and I'll use the upstairs shower." She shrugged, acting nonchalantly towards this whole situation. You guess she was used to this kind of stuff after all.

You gave in and went inside the large bathroom, stripping off and sliding your soaking pullups down your legs, leaving a slick trail all the way down the both of them. You washed yourself thoroughly in the shower, able to find a few moments of lucidity to think through your situation. Having a wear a pullup for an hour or two and getting to stay over at Katy's place for the night in exchange? People would kill for such a deal, and so you decided to make the most of your situation.

As you stepped out from the shower, steam rising off your skin, you saw a neat pile of clothes arranged, once again, for you on the sink. Another pair of pullups topped off the small pile, and you sighed as you quickly slid them up onto you once again, keeping Katy happy. Next was the shirt, a blue, childish print on it that matched the padding between your legs. And another pair of underwear, the material felt smooth and slightly stretchy to the touch, like spandex, and it snapped tightly onto you, pulling your diaper closer to your skin. As you looked down at the print of animals covering the front of your new, tight underwear, a frown forming on your face, the door behind you slid open to reveal Katy in a pair of soft, pink, pyjamas. She cooed as she saw you standing in your childish clothing, exclaiming, "So cute!!"

You looked back to the pile of clothes of the counter, but saw there was nothing left to put on. "Can I have a pair of pants to wear to bed..?" You queried her, as she made her way towards you.

"Don't be silly, you're wearing them." She responded, adjusting the waistband of your pullups so they hugged your body more comfortably. "All you need to wear is that diaper cover, and you're good to go."

A diaper cover? What was she playing at, that was why the underwear you pulled over the top of your pullups was so strange, it was designed to be worn with a diaper to hold it in place for somebody that wet the bed. And you had, for some reason or other, been chosen by Katy to be that bedwetting person.

"No way Katy, I'm not wearing this stuff to bed, are you serious? You made me wear that pullup earlier, and..."

"And you wet yourself." Katy interrupted your train of thought with her sharp reaction. "You wet your pants earlier, and you used the pullup that I gave you to wear, I didn't ask you wet your pullups, did I? Now you're going to try and tell me that you don't need a diaper to wear to bed?"

You stuttered, your pride deflating at her words. It was true. If you were her, you'd expect the person who had lost control twice in one night to lose control again.

"Now stop complaining about having to wear something just in a case tonight. I could always make you wear one of the tape-up diapers instead?" She raised an eyebrow at you as she stepped back, challenging you to respond to her.

You shook your head quickly. Just this apparel was more than humiliating for you. You couldn't even bear to think about her laying you down on a changing table and taping you into a baby diaper.

She nodded at herself, preening at her decisive victory over you. "That's what I thought, now come on, let's get you ready for bed."

She took your hand and led you upstairs, and your pullups crinkled softly with every step. Was this some kind of sick roleplay?? Why was Katy doing this to you?

But even more importantly, why were you LETTING her do it to you? She was treating you like a little kid, like one of the kids she was used to babysitting. Maybe once she got drunk, she couldn't turn off her "babysitter mode." But regardless of why she was doing it, you were slowly realising that you liked it. And you had no idea why.

You both entered a bedroom, it must have been the diapered teenager's room. Packages of diapers were stacked neatly into shelves on the right side of the room, and a large, adult-sized changing table lay adjacent. The left side however, was more like your typical teenager's room, with a computer, clothes strewn across the floor, and some posters tackily strewn over the walls.

Katy led you to the edge of the bed, pulling open the top sheet for you. "Katy..." You started, aware of your surroundings, "isn't it a bit weird for me to sleep in the kid you babysit's bed? I mean, maybe we should share your bed..." you said suggestively, your heartbeat quickening. Katy thought for a few moments before shaking her head.

"I would let you... but this is the only bed in the house that has a plastic-backed mattress... What if you leak?"

You looked at her incredulously. As soon as her accusation reached your ears, you were taken aback.

"Leak? Katy, I don't piss the bed! You're the one who put me in all of this. You don't know if I would wet the bed or not!!"

"Exactly, I don't know." She said back to you in a bemused manner. "But judging from your performance tonight, I'd say that waking up a little bit wet wouldn't be too uncommon for you, would it?

You heart sank as her words turned over inside of your head. You could feel your romantic chances with her slipping away as easily as you slipped into your pullups just moments earlier. But not if you did something about it.

It was her turn to gasp as you put a hand onto her waist, firmly signalling your intent. "Let me stay in your bed tonight." You asked again, pulling her slowly towards you. You felt her relent, and the two of you shared a kiss, right there on the edge on the bed. You hand slid down her waist, as her hand came to rest in your lap, brushing against your diaper cover. As if being brought back to sense by the feel of your babyish clothing, she immediately pulled back from you, much to your chagrin.

She licked her lips, blinking quickly in front of you, still obviously stunned by your audden boldness."I'll tell you what... you keep those pullups dry tonight, and I'll let you do more than just sleep in my bed tomorrow night."

And with that, she flicked off the light, closing the door behind her. Your member hurt, it was pressing painfully into the padding between your legs, unable to rise. You shook your head, your mind still swirling with the thought of your kiss, and lay down on the stiff mattress with an audible crinkle, your pullup warm between your legs, and tight around your waist.

How the hell had you gotten yourself into this mess?

* * * * *

You grunted and strained as your smoking hot girlfriend Freya taped you up. Your desperate cock twitched as she covered with a thick booster and followed up tightly by the fresh diaper. Your girlfriend sighed.

"No chance mister. I'm not risking your little thing firing off and squirting on me. I know you're pent up. But I have spent the whole night getting ready for Matts Halloween party and I'm not getting my cute costume all sticky."

You frowned as Freya turned around to adjust her makeup in the mirror her tight ass jiggling. Halloween night was meant to be epic. Plan was to hit up a party, get wasted and than end up undressing Freya in what ever smoking hot costume she decided to wear. In reality it wasn't going go that way. You'd leaked through your diaper this morning totally soaking the bedsheets and your mom was pissed, so she had grounded you for the weekend. When you told Freya about this and how you couldn't make a party she just rolled her eye's. You thought at least you guys could hang out for the night. Freya had made other plans.

"Obliviously a big bummer dude we can't have any Halloween spicy fun.. but I'm sure you and your mom will watch a scary movie or something. Just try not have a fudgie accident during it. Your mom said you're already low on pamps and your diaper pail is looking pretty full"

Freya chuckled nearly finishing her make-up. Instead of hanging out with you she earned herself a invite to Matts Halloween party. Matt was a douche you knew from college. Popular, cool and did well with the ladies in your class. A issue you'd always struggled with. When you suggested going with her for at least an hour she told you Matt thought it was best you stayed at home. If that wasn't bad enough Freyas costume wasn't exactly modest. It was going get a lotta attention from the worst type of guys, almost like that was her goal. When you suggested maybe she make it a little more innocent she added fishnets, not exactly taking on your advice. Her phone buzzed and she smiled cheerfully typing a reply to whoever contacted her.

"Okay lil fella I'm going head off my ride is outside. Have lots of fun tonight with your mommy.. uh mom!"

The Leaky List

The mall’s Christmas village glowed under soft amber lights long after closing hours, the gates locked tight for tonight’s private adults-only “Naughty List” event. The air was thick with cinnamon and pine, and the only people left in line were grown-ups in frills, leather, or footed pajamas.

Emily—formerly known as Emmett—stood there in the most humiliating outfit Miranda had chosen: a baby-pink satin dress with extravagantly puffed sleeves and a ruffled bodice that cinched tight at the waist before flaring into a short, frilly skirt. The glossy fabric shimmered under the lights, and the skirt was so brief it barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, offering no cover at all for the thick, white disposable diaper beneath. The padding bulged obviously, forcing her thighs apart into an awkward waddle.

Miranda had made it very clear in the car: four big bottles of juice, no bathroom, and a bright, cheerful reminder in that syrupy voice she used when she was being extra cruel:

“No potty until after you sit on Santa’s lap and read your list. Be a good little girl and hold it, okay? We don’t want another accident in public again, do we?”

Emily’s thighs kept scissoring together, knees knocking, hands pressed between her legs as she tried to dance in place without being obvious. The pressure was unbearable. Her bladder felt like it was about to explode.

The elf—a six-foot domme in a candy-cane corset—smirked and waved her forward. “Next! Come on up, princess!”

Santa waited on his throne, all jolly red velvet and snowy white beard, belly laughing as Emily toddled up the steps.

“Ho ho ho! Well, who do we have here?” he boomed, voice warm and cheerful. “Come sit on Santa’s lap, sweetheart, and tell me if you’ve been naughty or nice!”

Emily climbed up, the satin skirt fluffing everywhere, diaper crinkling like a crunched-up shopping bag. The second her padded bottom settled, his big gloved hands locked around her waist and pulled her snug against him. That was when she felt it: the thick, hard ridge of his cock pressing up under the velvet. Santa’s jolly smile never wavered, but his eyes went dark and sharp, like he was waiting for her to make the right moves.

“H-hi… Santa…” Emily squeaked in a quivering voice, trying to break the awkwardness.

He gave an exaggerated, delighted chuckle for the audience, bouncing her once so the diaper crinkled loudly.

“Oh! Such good manners!” His hand slid to her hips, pressing her harder against his erection. “Now tell Santa: have you been a naughty little girl this year?”

Emily glanced to his wife Miranda, who narrowed her eyes and nodded back at him. Emily  swallowed, cheeks burning, and managed a tiny nod.

“Y-yes, Santa… vewy naughty…”

The crowd laughed softly. Santa’s eyes flashed.

“Ohhh, I know you have, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for everyone, then lowered his voice again to that filthy growl. “But guess what? Santa’s been naughty too.”

He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear.

“Santa’s been having a jolly ‘ole time… with your wife.”

Emily’s whole body went rigid. A broken whimper escaped.

“Last night, while you were locked in your crib with your mittens pinned and your paci popped in, I had your wife spread wide on the big grown-up bed you’re never allowed in anymore. I fucked her so hard she screamed my name into the pillow that you used to drool on. She came over and over. Soaked the sheets way worse than your little bedwetting accidents ever did. Then she rolled over, looked me in the eye, and begged me to come here tonight so we could finish turning her pathetic little sissy husband into a crying, leaking mess together!”

Emily’s stomach dropped straight through the floor. The man currently holding her on his lap, the man whose thick cock she could feel throbbing under her diaper, had spent last night balls-deep in Miranda.

She tried to wriggle away, a panicked little squeak escaping her throat, but his arms tightened like steel bands.

“Nuh-uh. Stay right here and be a good little sissy girl,” Santa boomed cheerfully for the crowd, then leaned in so only she could hear the steel underneath. “You’re not going anywhere until you read every single wobbly word of that baby scribble your Mommy made you write with your wrong hand. Out loud. Let everyone hear exactly what a silly, diapered sissy wants for Christmas.”

He shoved the glittery pink paper into her hands and forced her arms up so the whole room could see the shaky, left-handed scrawl and the messy hearts doodled in the corners.

Emily swallowed hard, cheeks burning, and tried to save whatever tiny scrap of dignity she had left. She opened her mouth and forced out the deepest, most adult voice she could manage:

“D-dear S-s-s-santa, I’ve been a very naughty sissy this year and I—”

Santa cut her off with a loud, disapproving tut-tut-tut, wagging one gloved finger in her face like she was a toddler who just said a swear word.

“No no no, princess. That won’t do at all.” He gave her a hard bounce that made the thick diaper rub against her cage and her bladder scream. “We don’t use big-boy voices here. Try again, baby girl. High and lispy, just like Mommy taught you, or Santa will spank that bottom right here in front of everyone.”

Emily’s thighs clamped together, knees knocking. She could feel the pressure building so fast it made her eyes water. She tried one more time, whispering, “Please, I—”

Another sharp tut. Another cruel bounce. A warning spurt leaked out; she felt the warmth bloom against her skin.

“Last chance, sweetheart,” he sing-songed, loud enough for the front row to hear. “Talk like the dumb little baby you are, or I’ll make you stand up and show everyone how close you are to flooding that diaper.”

Tears spilled over. Emily gave up.

Her voice cracked into the high, quivering, lispy mess Miranda had drilled into her for weeks:

“D-deaw Santa…” she hiccup-sobbed. “I-I’ve b-been a vewy n-naughty sissy dis yeaw an’… an’ I want…”

Her legs scissored frantically, thighs rubbing together, trying anything to hold it back. Santa started the slow, deliberate bouncing again, each movement grinding the thick padding against her caged clitty and pressing on her aching bladder.

“Go on, potty-pants,” he cooed. “Tell Santa before you have a big accident.”

Another hot spurt escaped, longer this time. Emily squeaked, high and panicked, and the words tumbled out in a desperate, lisping rush:

“I w-w-want p-pwetty pastel dwesses dat shine when I move… a b-big sissy dowwy to cuddwe when Mommy wocks me in my cwib… a w-wocking diwdo paci so I stop tawking back…”

Her whole body was shaking now. She was openly potty-dancing on his lap, knees bouncing, bottom lip wobbling, tears dripping onto the paper.

Santa just laughed and bounced her harder.

Another spurt and, finally, the dam broke.

A loud, shameful hiss filled the air as Emily completely lost control, flooding the diaper in one long, helpless torrent. The padding swelled hot and heavy, sagging between her thighs, leaking warm trickles down her bare legs while the entire room heard every second of it.

Santa clapped like she had just done a cute trick.

“Aww, there it is!” he boomed, jolly as ever. “Baby couldn’t even finish one little sentence without making a great big pee-pee in her princess diaper! Who’s the most pathetic potty-pants in the whole mall? You are! Yes you are!”

He booped the tip of her runny nose with one white-gloved finger, then leaned in so his beard scratched her tear-soaked cheek.

“Keep reading, pissy girl,” he growled, low and lethal. “Every single baby word. And don’t you dare stop grinding.”

Emily was sobbing too hard to breathe properly, but the words still spilled out in a cracked, lisping wail:

“T-twaining bwas fow my puffy nipples… w-wumba panties to go ovah my diapurrs… an’ an even tiny-err cage pwease Santa… da kind dat pinches all day so I nevew fowget I’m nuffin but a…”

Santa’s free hand slipped under the frilled shirt and found her swollen little breasts. He trapped one aching, hormone-puffed nipple between thumb and forefinger and twisted slowly, cruelly, with increasing pressure.

Emily shrieked a high, broken sound and her hips jerked forward on their own, mashing the sloppy padding harder against his thigh.

“Look at that,” he laughed to the crowd, twisting the other nipple now, rolling both until she was shaking. “Sissy’s titties are almost as leaky as her diaper!”

He switched to the other nipple, tugging and squeezing, sending sparks straight to her cage. The diaper was a hot, squelching mess; every grind rubbed the soaked padding over her trapped clitty in slick, relentless strokes.

Her voice dissolved into pathetic whimpers:

“P-pwease gif me a whole case of diapees wif baybee pwints… an’ wocking pwastic pants to keep me fwum getting out of dem… an’ an’ pwease Santa make me stay wike dis fowevew, a dumb wittle sissy who can’t even sit on your wap without wetting an’ makin’ stickies—”

The last word broke into a mortified wail because Emily felt it happen: her caged clitty spasmed hard, again and again, spurting useless ropes of cum into the already drenched diaper. The ruined orgasm rippled through her while she was still grinding, still being groped, still lisping her  Christmas list like a broken doll.

Santa threw his head back and roared with laughter.

“Oh ho ho! Did someone just cream her pissy diaper on Santa’s lap? In front of everyone?” He gave her nipple one last vicious twist that made her sob. “What a dirty little dolly!”

He lifted a hand and beckoned with two fingers.

“Miranda! Come check your husband. I think she made a big sticky in her already-soaked diaper.”

Miranda sauntered over, phone up and recording, wicked smirk sharp as knives. Her smile was half amused, half disappointed, like she was looking at a puppy that had just piddled on the carpet again.

She stopped right in front of Emily, eyes flicking from the blotchy, tear-streaked face down to the sagging, yellowed bulge beneath the pink satin skirt.

“Again?” she sighed, shaking her head with mock sorrow. “You couldn’t even last five minutes on Santa’s lap without cumming your diaper like a desperate little sissy?”

Santa flipped the skirt of the satin dress up so that Miranda could slip two manicured fingers into the elastic of the diaper. Emily felt them push past the warm, swollen padding and slide right along her caged clitty.

Miranda’s eyebrows shot up. She let out a soft, pitying laugh.

“Oh honey… you really did it! All those sticky cummies floating in your pee-pee padding.” She swirled her fingers once more, just to make Emily whimper, then pulled them out glistening. “What a pathetic little mess.”

Only then, with the whole room watching, did Miranda grab the front of the diaper with both hands and yank the tapes open in one sharp RRRRIP!

The heavy, sodden padding flopped down between Emily’s spread thighs with a wet slap, exposing everything: the tiny pink cage still dripping, the yellowed inner lining streaked with thick white ropes.

Miranda left the ruined diaper open like a curtain so every phone in the room got a perfect shot.

“Look at that, everyone,” she announced, voice dripping with fond disappointment. “My big strong husband, reduced to a leaky, cum-stained sissy!”

She scooped up another glob of the mixed mess and smeared it slowly across Emily’s trembling lower lip.

“Say thank you to Santa, sweetheart,” she cooed. “Thank him for helping Mommy show the whole room exactly what a worthless little potty-pants you really are!”

Emily garbled out some broken babbles and garbles, face flushed crimson.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Miranda cooed, her voice dripping with syrupy sweetness loud enough for the entire crowd to savor every word. “Let’s go home.”

She glanced down at the sodden, sagging padding still dangling from Emily’s hips, the swollen inner gel a deep, shameful yellow, streaked with thick ropes of ruined sissy cum, and her wicked smile sharpened into something almost fond.

“Oh no, baby girl. We’re not wasting a perfectly good diaper.”

Miranda seized the dripping front panel and yanked it back up between Emily’s trembling thighs with a loud, wet, squelching slap. The hot, sloshy mess pressed instantly against Emily’s caged clitty and tender skin, forcing a high, broken whimper from her throat as she squirmed helplessly.

Miranda smoothed the soaked padding into place with slow, deliberate pats, savoring every flinch. Then, accepting a roll of tape from one of the grinning elves, she sealed the same ruined diaper back around Emily’s waist.

“There we go!!” she purred, delivering a sharp, resounding smack to the bulging, discolored seat. The impact forced a fresh, hiccuping sob from Emily. “You made this big sticky mess all by yourself, so you get to marinate in it all the way home! Maybe next year my little potty-pants will learn to hold her pee-pee and cummies a tiny bit longer.”

Santa chuckled deeply and gave Emily’s freshly re-taped bottom one final playful bounce before lifting her down. The re-sealed diaper squished warmly with every tiny movement, the sticky heat clinging relentlessly to her skin like a second, shameful layer.

Miranda clipped the short, jingling leash to the delicate heart-shaped ring on Emily’s collar and gave it a gentle, commanding tug.

“Come on… let’s go home, potty-pants.”

She turned to the crowd with a dazzling, triumphant smile. “Santa’s going to make sure every single wish on that precious little list comes true this year.”

Then she leaned in close, lips brushing Emily’s tear-damp ear, voice dropping to a velvet whisper meant only for her humiliated sissy.

Think about this…

You’re home from running errands with your mommy. There’s a trunk full of groceries, as well as a few more packs of diapers, wipes, and other supplies for your changing table that you picked up at the AB/DL supply store on the way home.

Meanwhile, your diaper is soaked. In your car seat you feel the warm padding, firmly pressed against your bits by the crotch strap of the five point harness.

Mommy turns off the car. She doesn’t let you out, not until she’s finished unloading the trunk and putting stuff away. She doesn’t want you wandering around unsupervised - so it’s better to keep you securely strapped into baby bondage.

It takes a while, 15 or so minutes. You’re bored the whole time, your pacifier is the only thing in reach, and thats just because it’s strapped to your onesie. The white teddy bears barely pop against the soft pink background, but the snaps look like they are struggling to keep hold.

Then, your mommy returns. Without saying anything she removes your buckle and helps you stand out of the car. She holds you by the wrist, and brings you to the nursery.

Obediently, you wait by the changing table for her to finish putting away your diapers. You still have a few to go through before opening the new packs, and even more in the closet of different thicknesses and designs.

Then, she picks you up by the armpits, and puts you on your back, so you’re lying down on the changing table. A strap is secured over your chest, and your wrists are slipped into the cuffs above your head.

She unsnaps your onesie, and checks your diaper.

“Hmm…” she says.

That’s it.

She starts to undo the damp padding and you look forward to a dry diaper. But instead, when she lifts your legs, she doesn’t start wiping you down. She just applies a fresh dusting of baby powder, checks the lock on your chastity device, and then tapes the padding back around your waist.

“Mommy?” you ask.

“Shhh, don’t worry baby,” mommy says. “You just need more powder to make sure you don’t get a rash, I was certain you pooped your pants back there, but you must have just tooted.”

She refastens your onesie, and then releases you from the changing table restraints.

We have begun making music for padded playtime☺️Here's Daisy Demure's first hit, perfect for little diaper ballerinas who need to be reminded of where they go!

"omg hey sissy, you really came!! we're so happy to see you!!" poki says

"i cant believe he actually wore that for us hahahahaha!" valkyrae whispers to the other 2 girls

*the three girls laugh and point at you, it's not hard to imagine why, you're walking around in a diaper and the girliest outfit imagineable*

"he looks so cute!!!!" janet says

"he does!! see, we told you this suits you much better!"

"yeah i mean, look at how many people are staring at you, they totallyyyy think you look hot!"

"why don't you strike a cute pose for us sissy!!"

"yesss, show everyone how girly you are!"

*embarrassed, you strike a cute pose*

"awwww good girl, you look so adorable!"

"and you can barely tell she's wearing a diaper!!!!" poki announces loud enough for most people in the area to hear"

"awwww is the little sissy baby blushing because she still wears diapers???"

"awwwww hahahaha that's so pathetic!"

*you let out a little whimper*

"hahahaha awww are you gonna cry??? do we need to get you a pacifier to soothe you?"

*you shake your head but deep down you know you want one*

"hahahaha omg girls imagine if we got him a pacifier and a baby bottle, and we put him in a stroller and rolled him around the mall all day for everyone to see!!"

"OMG, that would be amazing!!!"

"wouldn't you love that baby??"

*you start blushing and shaking your head as all 3 girls laugh at you until...*

*PPPFRRRBBBBLLTTTTT*

"omg girls..."

"did you guys hear that too?"

"hear it? bestie i can smell it... YUCK!!!"

"ugh you're so disgusting, you really couldn't hold it? the humiliation was just too much for your little sissy ass to handle? pathetic."

*you start crying and begging for a diaper change*

"oh you want a diaper change?"

"get down on your knees and crawl to us"

*you get down on all fours and crawl to them like a little baby*

"now, if you want a diaper change, you have to earn it"

"that's right, so start worshipping our feet loser!!"

"kiss our feet, lick our toes, worship every inch of our perfect feet"

*you start worshipping, kissing and licking their feet one by one, in front of everyone at the mall. people are pointing and laughing at you for being such a loser*

"so girls, shall we change her?"

"yessss let's do it in the public bathroom so everyone can see what a little sissy loser she is hahahaha"

Just Breathe

The tea was still warm when I set it down.

Not quite the usual blend she made, some essential oils crap she constantly raved about.

“This one’s for calming,” she said. “Just try it. A few sips.”

I don't even like tea. I told her that. Put up a bit of a fuss. But she was insistent. Smiled that smile. Brushed my arm. And I gave in. Like I always did. I was too tired to care. Now I wish I had.

Because now I can’t move.

My legs are stone. My arms barely twitch. My head lolls like it’s too heavy for my neck. And she’s right there, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, hands trembling as she unfolds a thick, white diaper in her lap.

I know what it is. I just… I don’t understand.

Not yet.

She doesn’t look at me. Not right away. Just keeps smoothing it out, like she’s working through something in her head. The crinkling is deafening in the quiet room. Like every fold is another nail in something I didn’t realize was being built.

Then I see it: a little glass vial. Clear. Innocent-looking. She uncaps it with a shake in her fingers, tips it gently over the padding, lets a few drops sink into the lining.

“Wait,” I croak, barely above a whisper. “What… what is that?”

She finally looks up. And God help me, she looks beautiful. Her eyes are red. Glossy. Her lips are trembling.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” she says, sniffling. “I really didn’t.”

She lifts the diaper, fully unfurled. Brings it closer.

My chest tightens.

“You drugged me,” I manage.

She nods. Just barely.

“You would have put up too much of a fuss otherwise.”

The diaper crinkles as she folds it inward. Closer.

“You’re going to wake up in diapers,” she continues, adjusting the folds again. Crinkle. “Every day. Every night. Until you forget what it felt like to wear anything else.”

"What the fffuck are you talkinggg about?" I try to say, but it comes out slurred. I try to push back, to lift my arms, to do something. But all I can do is stare as she positions herself in front of me, gripping diaper like she's a nurse with a gas mask about to put me under.

I flinch. Try to turn my head. But her hand’s already there, fingers firm against my cheek, guiding me back. Not rough. Not violent. Just certain.

The padding covers everything. My nose. My mouth. The soft bulk of it sealing me in. I try to shake free, but my neck barely responds. I try to pull back, to push her away, but my body doesn’t move.

And she’s holding it now, one hand behind my head, pressing me forward, the other cupping it to my face like she’s chloroforming me. Her thumbs press at the back of my neck. Her grip tightens just enough to make the crinkle echo in my ears. I gasp. Instinct, nothing more.

Too late.

The scent floods in: floral and powdery and chemical all at once. A deep, suffocating sweetness that spreads like heat through my skull.

She doesn’t let go. Just holds it there until I’ve taken several breaths. Until she feels me sag. Only then does she ease the diaper back. Slowly. Carefully. Like peeling a mask from my skin.

She exhales softly. Almost shaking.

“That’s one.”

I inhale. Fresh air this time, but my head is spinning. My brain hums.

The scent wraps around me like a net—powdery, sweet, but laced with something else. Something sharp. Not bad, just… thick. It fills the space behind my eyes. My brain hums. My head dips. My fingers twitch.

“You’ll be changed on schedule,” she whispers. “You’ll be spoon-fed. Bathed. Monitored.”

I blink slowly. Her voice is syrup in my ears.

“Wuz… whuz is goingg on?” My voice cracks. Slurs. “What are you… doing to me?”

She’s already shaking her head. Her eyes glisten, like she's pained to say it. “What has to be done.”

The diaper crinkles again as she turns it in her hands. Sharp. Clean. Certain.

I don’t even understand what I’ve done wrong. But something’s happening. Something final. And it’s already too late.

“You won’t ask for the bathroom,” she continues, her voice low and steady. “You’ll use your diapers. Just like a good little baby.”

And then, she brings it back.

Cupped firmly in her hand. Centered. Aligned. The thick, padded front pressing to my mouth and nose once more. The crinkle is deafening.

“Again,” she whispers.

I try to pull away. I can’t. Her grip tightens on the sides, holding me in place.

I breathe.

Not because I want to. Because I have to.

“Deep breath.”

The chemical hits faster this time. The warmth spreads down my neck. My mouth hangs open. My thighs relax.

I’m losing ground.

She watches me. Like she wants to stop. Like she’s begging me to give her a reason to.

“I thought you were one of the good ones,” she whispers, voice shaky, nose sniffling, “And maybe you were once, but you lost your way. And no matter how much I tried to get you back to the man I married, you always refused. Still, I thought I could change you."

Her eyes are misty, a solitary tear trails down her cheek, her voice cracks.

“But I was lying to myself.”

She presses the diaper in again.

“Breathe.”

I do.

A soft whimper escapes me as it floods in. My cheeks burn. "Pleashh, I'll be betturr" My muffled voice says through the chemical-laced padding.

She pulls it away, holding it gently now. Reverently. The smell lingers even without it pressed to my face.

“I tried everything,” she says, barely audible. “I begged you to grow up. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.”

She leans in, her lips just inches from mine.

“So now you’ll be something else.”

She smiles. Not cruelly. Almost lovingly. Then...she pauses.

I realize I’ve started to lean forward, as much as my sluggish body will allow. Just slightly. Toward the diaper in her hands. The smell is faint, still lingering. Powdery. Warm.

My breath hitches. I want to say no. To tell her to stop all of this. But I can’t.

Because it’s happening again.

The scent. God, the scent. It’s starting to feel good.

It makes my head light. My chest warm. My thoughts… slow.

And she sees it.

“You’re already getting used to it, aren’t you?” she whispers, her voice soft with heartbreak. "You're starting to crave it."

Not mocking. Not triumphant. Just sad. Like she’s watching the last part of me fade, and trying to tell herself it’s for the best.

“Don’t worry,” she says softly. “It’s not your fault. The compound does that. Rewires things. You’ll start to get addicted to the smell. The feel.”

The diaper presses against my face. I don’t pull away.

“You’ll beg for it,” she says distantly. “You’ll hold out your arms and whimper when you’re wet. You'll giggle when you're messy. You won’t even know why.”

She cups the back of my head. Brings it in.

“Again.”

I huff. This time I moan. A low, pitiful sound from deep in my chest. My mouth stays open. My nose presses into the padding. I nuzzle it, ashamed, needy.

She doesn’t speak. Just strokes my hair as I tremble.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispers.

“You needed someone to teach you. I just didn't have the right...tools."

I try to speak. Nothing comes out. Just a soft gurgle. My jaw moves. My eyes flutter.

“Good boy…” she coos.

She tilts the diaper again, releasing more of that scent. I whimper and press toward it.

“Shhh,” she murmurs. “It’s okay.”

She holds it to my face. This time, I suck in like I want it. I do want it.

I need it. Like an addict eager for his next fix.

It smells like safety. Like being held. Like the guilt is gone. The expectations. The failure. Just softness. Warmth.

I babble into the padding. A broken, burbling sound.

“That’s it,” she whispers. “Just let it happen.”

She strokes my cheek with the edge of the diaper, her voice a whisper in the growing fog.

“When you wake up,” she murmurs, “you won’t remember what it was like to be in control. This is the last time you’ll ever feel like a man. From now on, everything is decided for you. You won’t need grown-up thoughts anymore. You’ll be who you were always meant to be.”

Then, she presses it in again. Firm. Centered. Final.

“Just one more,” she whispers.

I breathe. I whimper. The scent rushes in, deeper than before. It floods my skull. Spreads behind my eyes. Everything softens. Thoughts slip loose. Memories come unstitched. Language curls inward and fades.

What was I saying? What was I so afraid of?

I don’t remember anymore. I don’t care.

She leans in close, and I feel her breath at my ear. Her voice cracks. Wet. She’s crying now. Full tears. Silent. Steady. Dripping down her cheeks as she holds the diaper to my face.

“You’re safe now,” she whispers, choking on it. “You don’t have to think anymore. Just be little.”

I try to respond, but nothing comes. Just a little sound. Muffled. Gurgling. My lips are slack. My eyes barely open.

Her fingers stroke my hair.

“That’s it,” she breathes. “Let it all go, sweetheart. Let the grown-up part go. When you wake up you'll be my little baby. Forever.”

The world fades to white.

Her silhouette above me. Blurry. Trembling. Weeping. The diaper pressed to my mouth.

The last thing I hear is the crinkling of the diaper. The sound I’ll become very used to over the coming years. The sound I’ll wake up in. The sound I’ll fall asleep to. The sound that will follow me… until there’s nothing left to remember but softness.