SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

A couple of months ago, my wife invited her sister over one Saturday morning to do some scrapbooking. My wife recommended that I work in the yard so they could have some privacy. Yard work is one of my least favorite ways to spend a Saturday morning, but it did need some attention, and I was not in the mood to deal with my sister-in-law’s criticism. We never really got along, and she was against my wife and me getting married.

After a couple of hours out in the yard, I was hot and tired and no longer wanted to do any more yard work. Upon entering the house, I headed straight for the shower, doing my best not to disturb my wife and her sister. Because I was so hot from working in the yard, I decided to run the shower a bit on the cold side to cool down. That did the trick. I felt totally refreshed when I stepped out of the shower. My relief quickly turned to horror when I saw my sister-in-law standing there with a sarcastic smile. She was looking at my dick and called back over her shoulder, “Yup, Sis, he’s got a tiny dick.” My wife walked in, looked at me, and sighed. “Well, it’s confirmed,” she said, and they both left the bathroom. There I stood, wet, naked, and completely humiliated.

I stayed out of their way for the rest of the afternoon. After my sister-in-law left, my wife acted as if nothing had happened. When I tried to mention the incident, she changed the subject. Perhaps my prayers were answered, and nothing would come of it. It wasn’t until the next weekend that I realized that the event had changed my wife.

*****

All that week, life went on as usual. I had believed that all was forgotten until Friday morning when I reached for my towel after my shower. The towel was huge! I mean, it was more like a blanket than a towel, and there stood my wife, looking at my goods. “Are you too small for it?” she asked. “Umm… I guess so,” was all that I could manage. “That’s too bad,” she said and left the bathroom. Leaving the bathroom, my wife said over her shoulder, “I picked out some big boy clothes for you. They’re on the bed.” It was not unusual for her to pick out my clothes, but it was very unusual to refer to them as “big boy” clothes. By the time I reached my clothes, my wife had left the room. I checked, and the selection of clothes seemed normal enough. “Maybe I’m just hearing things,” I thought. I quickly dressed and headed to work.

All day, when I went to the bathroom, I would stare down at my penis and wonder if I really was too small. Maybe my sister-in-law was right, and I did have a tiny dick. By the end of the day, I had decided to talk to my wife about the matter.

When I got home that night, I saw my sister-in-law’s car parked in my driveway. My normal irritation with that turned to fear. For some reason, I was afraid of any interaction with her. I tried to sneak in through the side door to avoid being noticed when I arrived home, but as I quietly opened it, I saw my sister-in-law standing there with a strange smile on her face. “Hi Trish,” I muttered weakly. “He’s sneaking in the side door, Sis,” she called over her shoulder. I pushed past her and went into my house. I found my wife putting some things in boxes on the dining room table. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Sis,” my wife said to her sister as she was heading out the front door. I was a bit put off by being caught, so after she left, I said, “Putting a guard at each door?” My wife looked up in surprise. “No. I heard you drove up and didn’t come in through the front, so Trish went to see what happened to you. Why did you come in the side?”

“Why do you think?” I snapped, “Your sister is scary, and I didn’t want to deal with her tonight.”

“Scary? Are you serious? You’re acting childish. Is this because of what happened last weekend?” She had a look of concern on her face that bore a striking resemblance to pity.

“Honey, I think we need to talk.” I stammered

“I think so too, Sweetie, but dinner is almost ready, so why don’t you come sit down and we can talk over dinner?”

My wife is a great cook, so we enjoyed a wonderful meal and chatted about our day, then the moment came. There was an uneasy pause. “Honey,” I said, “about last weekend.”

I paused, hoping this moment would somehow become less awkward. “What your sister said…”

“I think it’s cute,” she interrupted. “Huh?” was all I could manage.

“I think it’s cute, ” she repeated. “In fact, let me see it right now.” She pushed away from the table and walked over to me. Looking down at my crotch, she said, “Come on. Take the little guy out so I can have a peek.” I was shocked. My wife had never been so forward with me, and yet she wasn’t being mean. I just sat there, unsure of what to do. I felt like a little kid who was being told to eat his vegetables. “All right, little one, I’ll do it myself,” and she reached down, unzipped my pants, and pulled them down to my ankles. Now shrunken by fear, my penis truly looked tiny, even to me. “Yup, it’s cute,” she said with a smile, and then sat back down at the table, as if nothing had happened. “Do you want to watch a movie tonight? I could pop some popcorn if you would like,” she asked.

“Umm… sure,” I stammered, not sure what was going on.

“Great. You get the table cleared off, and I’ll get the popcorn started.”

I stood up, pulled up my pants, and started clearing off the dishes from the table. After two trips back and forth to the kitchen, my wife stopped me. “Sweetie? I’d like to see it again.”

“What?”

“Your cute little dick,” she said, winking at me.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Come on, take it out for me,” she said, touching my arm lightly.

So I unzipped my fly and fished my penis out. All this was getting kind of kinky, so my dick was getting pretty hard. She looked at it and started to giggle, “Look, it’s getting hard for me. It’s even cuter now.” Then she turned and went back to rinsing off the dishes that I had brought in.

“Could you finish bringing in the dishes, Sweetie, so that I can finish up?” she said over her shoulder to me. “Uh, sure…” I was now more confused than ever about her behavior.

“And Sweetie, why don’t you just take your pants off in case I want to see it again later?” she said sweetly.

“No.” I had reached my limit, maybe.

“Now!” Her tone quickly changed to a very stern one, reminding me of being scolded by my mother as a child.

“No,” I said much more timidly.

She turned and glared at me. “Yes.” I slowly unzipped my pants and slid them to the floor. “And your underwear,” she said sternly. I complied and found myself naked from the waist down. Her smile returned, and a twinge of fear crept into my heart. There I stood, confused and half-naked; my erection was gone, along with my pride. My wife handed me a bowl of popcorn and said, “Good. Let’s go see if we can find something to watch.” I obediently followed her into the family room.

*****

My wife grabbed the remote and flipped channels for a bit, and after pausing briefly to watch a tampon commercial, landed on a documentary about androgynous tree frogs in South America.

“This should be educational,” she said as she put the remote out of reach.

I was in a daze. Sitting naked from the waist down, eating popcorn, and my wife watching a show about tree frogs like it wasn’t the most boring thing on the planet.

After ten minutes of tree frogs, I was getting a bit drowsy and rested my hands in my lap. My wife saw where my hands were and overreacted. “What are you doing? That is so immature! Big boys don’t play with themselves.”

“No… It’s just… I’m…” I was taken off guard by the whole thing; I couldn’t seem to explain myself. Then came the awkward pause. With a look of concern, “I’m sorry, Sweetie. Did I embarrass you?”

I flushed red. “It’s just that I have my hands resting in my lap.”

“No need to make excuses. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the show.”

I’m not sure if it was from the big dinner or the boring TV show, but I drifted off to sleep. I must have slumped over, ending up with my head in my wife’s lap. My wife’s muffled giggles woke me. I could feel the weight of her breast against my face, and I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her giggling continued, and as I looked up at her, I realized she was staring at my crotch. Noticing that I was awake, “It gets even smaller when you sleep. Isn’t that precious?” Then she reached over and held my penis between her index finger and her thumb. With my wife touching my dick, my erection returned.

With her slowly stroking my cock with her two fingers, she said, “Even hard, it’s not that big. It’s like you never grew up down there.” Her words were stinging, but her touch was bringing me to the edge. “It’s not like a man’s dick at all. More like one of the boys I used to babysit in high school.”

That was the breaking point. Hand job or not, I was going to say something… put a stop to this taunting. I rotated my head against her breast, ready to speak out, but then the unexpected happened.

“Awww, you’re nuzzling at my breast like a little kid. Did you want something?” And with that, she lifted the edge of her shirt, and her left breast popped out at my face. My mind went blank. All I could see and think about was my wife’s breast only a breath away from my face. With her hand still slowly stroking me and my lips reaching out for her nipple, the inevitable happened. The phone rang.

As quickly as could be, her hand released my dick and her breast was covered, and I found myself watching my wife get up to answer the phone. “Sweetie, if you’re tired, why don’t you go lay down,” she said before answering the phone.

“Hi Trish, what’s up?” And off she went to the kitchen to talk to her sister.

*****

At this point, I was more than confused. I was sexually frustrated. I took my wife’s suggestion and lay down on our bed. Now I hadn’t jerked off since I was a kid, but tonight was getting to be too much for me to take. I really needed a release from this tension, so I took matters into my own hands. If I could just cum, then my head would clear, and my wife and I could sort this all out. It didn’t take long before I was close to cumming, but before I could get to the point of no return, I could hear my wife walking towards our room. Since I had already been chastised for “playing with myself,” I was embarrassed to be caught by my wife, so I flopped over onto my belly, pressing my erection hard against the mattress. I heard her suppress a laugh at the sight of me, and I didn’t blame her. I’m sure I looked silly sprawled across the bed face down with only a shirt on pretending not to have been jerking off just moments before. She rustled around in the room for a moment, then left.

With the pressure of my body, my dick was demanding some immediate attention. Still being very close, I decided just to hump the bed, going hands-free for the big finish, and finish I did. With the task being done and being completely spent, I quickly slipped off to sleep.

About twenty minutes later, my wife found me still face down but asleep. “Sweetie? I’m off the phone now. Do you still want to talk?”

Slowly I regained consciousness and sat up to straighten things out with her. She gasped suddenly, and her expression changed. “You wet the bed!”

“I did no such thing,” I demanded.

She pointed to the wet spot on the bed where my crotch had just been. “Then what is that?”

I was doomed. Do I admit I just humped the bed, or let her think I wet the bed? I went with staring at her blankly and hoping the moment would somehow pass. Impatiently, she grabbed my wrist. “Well, I guess it can’t be helped with a baby dick like yours. Let’s get you to the potty before we have more problems.” She led me by my wrist to the bathroom, and I stood in front of the toilet. “Oh no, little one. You have to sit down. I don’t want you spraying all over the toilet.”

I can’t remember the last time I was made to sit to pee. My wife was making me feel like a little kid. There I was sitting on the toilet with my wife towering over me, waiting for me to pee. After a moment, she said in a tone reserved for toddlers, “I don’t hear any tinkling, so you must not be done on the potty.” I had had enough. I stood up, but she quickly pushed me back down onto the toilet again. “No, you don’t, little mister. I’m not waking up in a puddle of your urine. You’ll sit here until your bladder is empty.”

I sat there for a few more minutes looking down at my limp dick, wondering what had happened and worried about what was going to happen next. When she broke the silence, her disposition and voice were dramatically different.

*****

The look on her face was a mix of kindness and concern. “Sweetie? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your leaky faucet.”

“My what?” I said, standing up.

She headed out of the bathroom, saying, “Come with me and don’t forget to wipe your pee-pee.”

I tore off a piece of toilet paper, wiped my dick, and joined her in the bedroom. She had my laundry basket turned over on the bed. She picked out a few of my underwear and handed them to me. “Your leaky faucet. I’m talking about the pee stains in your pants.” I stood there, looking at my underwear, and for the first time, I noticed the pee stains. I thought I had reached the peak of humiliation, but then she continued, “So I asked Trish about it.”

“YOU DID WHAT?” My voice cracked

“She does have a kid, you know! She’s a parent, and I value her advice.”

“A kid? She has a teenage daughter. Was this before or after she saw me naked?” I sat on the bed totally defeated.

“A few weeks before. But Sweetie, you have the evidence in your hands. Trish recommended you sit to pee and wipe when you’re done, but after seeing your bed-wetting incident, you may have a bigger problem,” she spoke so gently and stood in front of me, wrapping her arm around me, pulling my head again towards her breasts.

I looked up at her, “Sit to pee? Are you serious?”

“I don’t think you would like to hear her other suggestions, so just give it a try for this weekend, and we’ll see how it goes. Help me change the bed so we can get some sleep tonight in a dry bed.”

Reluctantly, I agreed, “Alright, I’ll go along with it this weekend. Any more surprises I should know about?”

“Not tonight, Sweetie,” she said, and winked at me.

Moments later we were both in bed. My wife was sound asleep, quickly leaving me to stare at the ceiling wondering what else my evil sister-in-law suggested and how I could ever face her again knowing that she thinks I pee my pants. Finally, I drifted off to unrestful sleep.

*****

The next morning I woke up naked and alone. My wife is normally up before I am, especially on Saturdays. Still waking up, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a big T-shirt, then headed for the bathroom. Standing there peeing made me feel like I was forgetting something important. Shrugging off the feeling, I finished off and headed off to the kitchen to get some coffee. From the kitchen window, I could see my wife in our backyard working in her flower garden. My wife took great care of her garden and often enlisted me to maintain it. After a couple of sips of coffee, she noticed that I was awake and joined me in the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep?” She asked in a gentle, loving voice.

“So-so,” I muttered, still joining the land of the living.

“Can you help me in the garden today? I could really use your help,” her gaze slipped to my crotch.

“Um… sure. I’ll give you a hand,” my eyes followed hers to my crotch. Then without warning, she pulled the waistband of my sweatpants out and peered in at my penis.

“Really, Sweetie,” she said with a disappointed tone. “You said you would try.”

I was confused at first, but I slowly remembered my promise to pee while sitting down. “I’m… sorry. But Honey…”

She ignored me and intruded with a stern tone that gave me flashbacks to grade school, “And you’ve gone and wet your pants too.”

She pulled my sweatpants to my ankles. She said, “Lift your shirt and wait right here while I go get something.”

What a sight that must have been. There I was with my pants around my ankles, and my shirt held up like a little kid. My wife came back with the box that I saw her packing up last night. For it, she took some baby wipes. “What are you going to do with those?” I demanded, still holding up my shirt.

“Gee, I don’t know. I thought I might wipe off your little pee-pee because you don’t know how to wipe and I don’t want you getting a rash,” she said sarcastically. I stood there as she wiped me off and said nothing. I was so embarrassed by this whole thing that I didn’t know what to say or do.

When she was done, she threw away the wipes and then stood in front of me. “Sweetie, I want you to see something.” She pulled the waistband of her shorts out so that I could look down into her pants. “Do you see this?” she asked. My heart was racing. I started to pant. I felt like I was in grade school looking up skirts under the desks.

She continued, “No pee. See? I wipe myself when I’m done so I don’t end up with pee in my panties.” At this point I wasn’t really listening. I was fixated on my wife’s neatly trimmed pubic hair and the way the fabric of her panties clung to her crotch. My dick was so hard that it was bouncing in the air. I can’t remember being this turned on before in my life.

“Trish said you might have some problems rehabilitating,” €she said softly. At the sound of her sister’s name, my heart sank.

“Come along, little one. I guess we’ll have to start potty training you.”

*****

My wife sat me on the toilet just like she did the night before. She towered over me like I was a toddler who needed to be helped in the bathroom. Finally, a few trickles escaped. “Good boy!” she said with a great big smile, “Now stand up and let me wipe you off.” I obediently complied.

Standing behind me, she reached around and took a piece of toilet paper. Taking the toilet paper in one hand and grasping my dick with her index finger and thumb of her other hand, she gently wiped the head of my dick. “See, Sweetie? When you tinkle you need to wipe.” I could feel her breast pressing against my back. I knew she didn’t have a bra on because I could feel her stiff nipples poking me. I got hard in her hand, and she couldn’t help but notice.

“My my, what a big boy you think you are.” She turned me around, put the lid down on the toilet, and set me back down. Her shorts and panties quickly came off, and I was staring right at her crotch. She rubbed herself a few times, then guided my face in. I had performed oral sex on my wife only a few times before and never in the bathroom with her standing over me. This whole situation must have been some sort of secret fantasy for her because she was not only hot but sexually aggressive.

She humped my face until her legs buckled from orgasms. I was in a daze. My sweet innocent wife was teasing and taunting me, humiliating me, and now using me to satisfy her sexual desires. I was way past horny. I wanted so much to grab my dick and start pumping. Recovering from her orgasm, she stepped back and picked up her shorts and panties off the floor. Precum was dripping from my dick.

“Aww. See you’re peeing yourself again. At least you made it to the bathroom this time,” she winked and headed out the door, “and don’t forget to wipe, Sweetie.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed release. I grabbed my dick and started pumping. With my eyes closed tight, I was reliving the last few minutes in my mind’s eye. Then I felt a stinging in my hand, and again. I opened my eyes to see my wife standing over me smacking the hand that I was jacking off with.

“What are you doing! You are so immature; here you are playing with your pee-pee like some kind of little boy. Now knock that off and help me with the garden.” She stood there waiting for me to move. I was frozen. I couldn’t even remove my hand from my now limp cock. She finally smacked my hand away from my dick and motioned for me to stand up. She helped me back into my sweatpants like a kid. With my head hung low, I followed her out to the garden.

*****

We worked in silence for about a half hour. It was getting hot, so my wife went inside to get some lemonade. Upon her return, her demeanor was so kind and gentle that it was hard to believe she had been so harsh with me earlier. We took a break and sat quietly on the porch. She broke the silence first, “I was thinking we should clean out the spare room while we’re at it today.”

I agreed and finished my drink. Soon, we were pulling out years’ worth of junk from the spare room and sorting it into two piles: give away and throw away. I guess my wife was worried about me getting dehydrated because she made sure that I always had something to drink. As we worked, I couldn’t help watching my wife’s tits bounce unrestrained beneath her shirt. I could swear she was teasing me, but she acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. A few times she even accidentally backed into me, pushing her ass hard against my dick. By lunchtime I was so horny I was cross-eyed.

With a full bladder and a bad case of blue balls, I needed release of some kind. I stood in the doorway, my raging hard-on tenting out the front of my sweatpants. “What do you say we take a break?” I offered with a stupid grin.

“Sounds like a great idea. Do you want some lunch?” My wife totally ignored my subtle hint

“Come on, honey!” I pleaded pathetically. She paused and turned. Her expression was a bit confused, then it seemed like she understood.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sweetie. You’ve been drinking so much, and I haven’t taken you to the potty. Thank you for reminding me,” and with that, she took my hand and led me off to the bathroom.

I stopped at the doorway. I was done messing around. “Honey. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m done playing. I’m not a little boy.”

“Oh really!” She seemed a bit angry by my resistance. She yanked down my sweatpants and pointed at my now deflated penis, “You look like a little boy.”

I was crushed. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I slumped to my knees. Some maternal instinct must have kicked in because my wife stooped down and began stroking my hair to comfort me. She stood me up and led me over to the bed where she stripped me naked. Lying on my back, she straddled me, putting all her weight on my bladder. I really had to pee now, but my wife seemed to have shifted back to the sexually aggressive mode, and I wasn’t going to do anything that would derail that. She leaned forward, and I could feel her hard nipples on my bare chest. “Do you want to show me that you aren’t a little boy?”

“Uh-huh,” I gasped.

“You will have to do whatever I say. Can you do that?” I could feel the heat from her crotch on my belly

“Uh-huh,” I gasped again.

She slid off me and sat cross-legged beside me, taking my rock-hard cock in her hand. She held my dick tightly and then whispered gently, “Hump my hand.” Astonished, I didn’t quite know if I should really do it. “Hump it,” she said more forcefully. That was the green light. I started thrusting my hips up and down. I was confused by the whole situation, but at least I was getting a hand job and would finally get to cum. I was pumping hard, eyes closed, with passion.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you come in.” My wife said simultaneously, letting go of my dick. At that point, I was humping free air. I opened my eyes and saw my wife looking towards the doorway of our bedroom. I looked over to see my sister-in-law standing there with a disgusted scowl. “Sis. I don’t know how you can deal with such a baby dick like that.”

“I think it’s cute,” my wife said as she got up and followed her sister out of the room.

At that point I was at rock bottom. My sister-in-law walked in on my wife giving me a hand job, my wife treating me like a little kid, I was horny and couldn’t think straight. I didn’t care anymore. I WAS GOING TO CUM. I grabbed my dick, shut my eyes, and started jacking off.

“That is unbelievable! You are such a naughty little boy!”

I opened my eyes, and to my horror, my sister-in-law was taking pictures of me with her camera phone.

“I… it’s …” I was babbling at this point. Fear and humiliation welled up in me. After she left the room, I just lay there with my now limp cock in my hand.

Moments later, my wife came back in with her sister with a sad look on her face. Obviously she had seen the pictures. She sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for me to join her there. I slid in beside her, not sure of what I could say, “I can explain.” I started

“Trish has the evidence. You can’t deny what you were doing.”

“I know,” I said, completely humiliated.

“Sis? Maybe it would be better if I handled this,” Trish offered

“Maybe so,” my wife said, standing up and trading places with her sister.

In one move, Trish sat down and pulled me over her knees. She delivered three hard smacks across my ass before I even knew what was going on. There I was naked and being spanked by my sister-in-law while my wife watched because I was caught masturbating. I lost it; I couldn’t deal with the situation anymore. I broke down and cried.

I couldn’t count the number of swats my ass took, but at one point my bladder gave out. I completely flooded her lap, and when she realized what had happened, she stood up with a scream, dumping me onto the floor. “The brat peed on me! He is such a baby!” She smacked my ass one last time and stormed out of the room.

I hid my face. I couldn’t look at my wife after all that had happened. I could tell that she was standing over me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to look at her. Then I felt her gentle touch and turned to look up at her. She had a smirk on her face as if she was suppressing a laugh. “I guess I should have taken you to the potty earlier”

*****

My ass hurt from the beating it received. My pride was shattered, and I was completely humiliated. My wife stood me up and said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She wiped me off again with baby wipes and directed me to lie face down on the bed.

“This should help with your sore bottom.” She applied some cool cream to my hot butt.

The burning sensation subsided, and I was quite enjoying my wife’s soothing touch. As she worked the cream into my sore bottom, I noticed her touch getting closer and closer to my ass hole. Then she said, “Up on your knees.”

I got up on all fours, but she pushed my shoulders back down to the bed and spread my knees wider apart. There I was with my ass up in the air and my ass hole fully exposed. I knew what was coming next, but I just couldn’t believe it. My wife started to work her finger into my ass. I could hear her breathing change. She was really enjoying this.

I could hear her breathing getting shorter and shorter as she worked her finger in and out of my ass. Then something changed; she stopped pulling in and out and just left her finger in me. “Your prostate is quite large,” she said.

Suddenly I felt an immense pressure and a strong urge to pee. I could feel something leaking out of my dick, but from the position I was in, I couldn’t quite tell what it was. The feeling was incredible but not altogether comfortable. She massaged my prostate for what seemed like hours. Finally she took her finger out of my ass and said, “You had quite a lot in there. We may have to do that again.”

I felt completely drained. I rolled over onto my back and looked at my wife.

She seemed different now, more in control and really liked it. I was wiped out and didn’t have the strength to move. I lay there limp dicked. To my surprise, my wife stripped off her shorts and panties and climbed onto my chest. She laced her fingers in mine and held my hands above my head. Moving her crotch to my face, she said, “You’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.” For the second time that day, I was bringing my wife to orgasm orally. I was starting to enjoy the ability to please my wife in this way.

I felt an odd sensation in my own crotch. At first I could not identify what was happening. I felt a cold hand rap itself around my cock and balls. If my wife was holding both my hands, then whose hands were they? Then it hit me. “Trish!” My cry was muffled in my wife’s crotch. I looked up and saw my wife looking down with a sadistic grin.

“I wouldn’t move around too much, buddy boy,” I heard Trish say. She was shaving all my pubic hair off. My wife slid away from my face but remained on my chest and holding my arms down. I didn’t dare move for fear of losing more than just hair. “All done,” my sister-in-law announced, “Just like a little baby, see Sis?”

My wife shifted so she could see, “Yup, just like a baby boy.” She climbed off my chest and slid her panties back on. “It reminds me of that kid we used to babysit in high school.”

My wife and her sister chatted back and forth like I wasn’t there or anything out of the ordinary and just happened. “Remember Eddy?” My wife asked her sister.

“No way.” Trish said emphatically as if she understood the inside joke, “I don’t think so.”

“I do, and I’ll bet you one night of babysitting.” My wife retorted

“You’re on, Sis,” and with that my sister-in-law reached up under her skirt, still wet from my pee, and pulled down her panties and took them off. She came over to me and held them open at the waistband as if she wanted me to put them on. I was confused.

“It’s all right, Dear,” Trish said in the kindest, sweetest voice I had ever heard come from her. “Be a good boy and slide them on.”

She moved them closer to me. Before I really understood what was happening, I was stepping into the panties, and she was pulling them up on me. She stood back and gave a little chuckle. “You were right, Sis. I didn’t think he would actually wear my panties.”

The two of them started talking to each other again without any regard for me being there. My head was swimming, and I didn’t understand what was going on.

 

 

I could still feel the warmth of my sister-in-law from her panties, and the feeling of the fabric on my now smooth balls was entirely different than I had ever felt before. I seemed to have lost control, and then the unthinkable happened. “Oh my god,” the word slipped from my lips involuntarily. That drew the attention of the two women.

“Oh my,” my wife said with amusement.

“Damn it!” Trish said angrily, “Your brat has just wet my panties.”

“That’s not pee, is it, Sweetie?” my wife asked me playfully.

I just hung my head. I had just ejaculated into my sister-in-law’s panties that I happened to be wearing because of some weird kind of bet between her and my wife. “No,” I said sheepishly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Trish’s composure completely changed. “You got off from wearing my panties? That might have been the nicest compliment that you’ve ever given me.”

I was a broken man. Whatever was going on, I gave up.

Trish peeled the panties off of me and gave them to my wife. “He can keep them since he’s so fond of them.”

My wife and her sister laughed at her joke as I stood there naked and shaven without any more modesty left in me. Trish left the room, leaving my wife and me alone. “I didn’t mean to do that,” I said apologetically, “it just kind of happened.”

“I know, Sweetie. Sometimes little boys just can’t control themselves,” she said. Her tone was so maternal and understanding. I stood there silently as I watched her pack an overnight bag. By the time my wife was finished, her sister returned with something in her hands.

“I’m going to spend the night at Trish’s with my niece tonight, and she’s going to babysit you,” my wife said. “…so behave yourself and don’t cause her any grief. You need to obey her and do whatever she tells you. If you are a good boy, tomorrow when I get home I’ll reward you,” my wife winked at me and walked out with the overnight bag on her shoulder.

Moments later, I heard the front door shut and our car drive away. There I was, naked and alone with the one person that I didn’t want to be either naked or alone with.

“Lay down on the bed,” she said firmly, “I’m going to put this diaper on you so we don’t have accidents anymore.”

*****

“You’re not really going to put that diaper on me, are you?”

I was hoping it was just a show for my wife. With ninja-like speed and agility, my Trish grabbed me by my balls and squeezed. “Now this can go one of two ways,” she said in a husky whisper. “You can obey me, or I can rip you tiny little nuts off.” With tears welling up in my eyes, I whimpered an agreement.

Releasing her grip, she said, “Now lay down on the bed like a good little boy.”

I complied and soon found myself being diapered by my sister-in-law. From years of experience with her own child, she quickly secured my manhood in a diaper.

“Since you peed on my skirt, I will just have to borrow something from my sister.”

Without any apparent shame, she slid off her skirt and walked half naked around the room searching for something to wear from my wife’s drawers. I couldn’t help but stare. Her pubic hair was wild and uncut, a complete contrast to my wife’s well-trimmed pubes. My own body betrayed me. “What’s going on?” she said, looking back at me. “You’re panting.”

She then noticed that my gaze was fixed on her crotch. “Oh, I see,” she smirked. “…you noticed my hairy pussy.”

Her tone changed, and she started talking to me as if she were explaining something to a child. “You see, adults have hair on the private parts. That shows that they are all grown up. How about you? Do you have hair on your private parts?”

With that, she came over, pulled back my diaper waistband, and looked in. “Nope, no hair. You must be a little boy whose dickie hasn’t grown up yet. Isn’t that right?” She paused, looked at me, and waited for me to answer. “Isn’t that right?” She said more forcefully.

“Yes,” I muttered, completely humiliated.

She found a pair of shorts that seemed to fit and led me out of the bedroom to the kitchen. Although it was still early in the day, I was getting worn out from the emotional roller coaster I had been on. “Sit down, and I’ll make us some dinner,” she motioned to a chair at the table. She made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cut into triangles for me, with a glass of milk to drink.

I slowly munched on my food as I watched her make a roast beef sandwich for herself, with a cup of coffee. I was feeling rather childish with my meal. We sat quietly throughout the meal, except for her encouragement to drink. She kept my cup full and alternated between milk and apple juice. By the end of lunch, I was tired and felt waterlogged. After she cleared the plates, she stood with her hands on her hips, sternly looking down at me.

“You look ridiculous,” she said finally. “You have a tiny baby dick.” She tucked her finger into the front of my diaper down and checked for wetness. “Still dry. But I bet your bladder is as small as your dick.”

I hung my head in shame. I stared down and realized she was right. I had a substandard-sized penis, and I was completely speechless. “If I have to babysit you tonight, you aren’t getting out of my sight, so come and sit on the couch while I watch some TV.”

I followed her to the living room, where she settled on the couch, flipping through channels, looking for something to watch. It was slightly reminiscent of the night before with my wife. Like her sister, she found some boring nature show to watch. I just stood at the end of the couch, not sure what I was supposed to do (or not do).

“Well, sit down,” she finally said, sounding annoyed, as Trish stood up. “Come on,” she said impatiently, waiting for me to get up. I was confused about what was going on. “You don’t leave my sight, remember? I’m thirsty, so come on.”

I followed behind her like a toddler following his mother through a store. She pulled a beer out of the fridge, and we headed back to the living room. All the milk and juice caught up to me, and my bladder was uncomfortably full. As I watched her drink, I tried not to think about my problem. I began to shift my weight and find a comfortable position to put off the inevitable.

She must have known something was up because she motioned for me to come over to her. I resisted at first, but after a stern look, I thought better of being disobedient. She tucked her finger into my diaper as she had done earlier, but this time her hand was cold from holding her drink. When her cold finger touched my penis, I couldn’t control it anymore. My bladder gave way, and I began peeing uncontrollably.

“I guess I was only a tiny bit early in checking your diaper.”

I started to cry as she started to laugh. The flow of pee slowed to a trickle and tears were streaming down my face. I could tell that Trish was really enjoying my humiliation. She lifted my chin so she could look me in the eye. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “All babies wet their diapers.”

She smiled at me warmly and stood up. I was completely confused. I thought she would be mad and want to spank me, but she was being kind. She patiently waited for me to stand up, then led me into the bedroom.

“Lay down on the floor so I can get the wet thing off you.”

Her kindness was killing me. I didn’t expect any of it. I lay down as directed, and she knelt between my legs and pulled down the diaper. Looking down at her, I realized I could see down her shirt. Her breasts weren’t as full as my wife’s and seemed a bit saggier. I had a flashback to earlier seeing her walking around half naked. I remembered her unshaved crotch, and now I was seeing her breasts. With great speed and agility, she quickly had me in another diaper. “All finished,” she said, putting a big ‘X’ on the front of my diaper with a marker.

She then realized that I was looking down her top.

“Are you still hunger, little one?” I winced, expecting to be smacked for peeking, but she still seemed to be in a good mood, so I just shook my head.

“Well, I have to go potty myself.” She got up and waited. Was she expecting me to go with her? “Well, come on,” she motioned to me, “don’t make me wait.”

Again I was following her like a child into the bathroom. I was totally confused and wondering what would happen next.

*****

I stood there dumbly wondering if I was going to get to see her pee. My wife never let me in the bathroom while she was using it, so this was a completely new experience for me. “No, no, little boy. No more peeking. Put your nose in the corner until I’m done.”

My heart sank a bit, but I complied. Facing the corner, I could see nothing, but then I realized that I could hear everything. I could hear her sliding the shorts down over her thighs. I remembered that she wasn’t wearing any panties. I could visualize her uncut pubic hairs being exposed behind me. I was unashamedly getting really horny. She began to pee, and I could hear it all, from the first drops to the full flow.

My knees were getting weak as my dick strained against the diaper. I wanted to peek so bad. I heard her get some toilet paper and wipe herself off. The sounds of this experience were driving me mad. I wanted to reach down and start jerking on my cock so bad. I heard her pull up the shorts, hiding her bush once more. I couldn’t control myself anymore. As she flushed the toilet, I reached up and squeezed my stiff cock through the front of the diaper. I shot my load, and my knees buckled. I hit my head on the wall and fell back. Lying on the floor, I found myself looking up at Trish.

“You fell from standing. I hope you weren’t being naughty.” She winked at me and headed out of the room.

I scrambled to my feet to follow. I didn’t know if she knew what just happened or just how horny I was getting around her. I had completely forgotten that we had previously hated each other and was focused on seeing her naked crotch again. We resumed our places on the couch, and she finished her beer. For the next hour and a half, I tried to figure out a way to see her naked patch again. I followed her to the kitchen a couple more times. Maybe we’d make another bathroom trip, and I could accidentally turn around too soon. During that time, for every beer she drank, she made me drink two cups of water.

Finally she said to me, “Following me around was fun for a while, but why don’t you sit this one out?” She got up and went to the kitchen without me. To my surprise, she returned with two beers. “You’ve been a good sport this evening, so why don’t you enjoy one of these?”

She handed me the beer and plopped down on the couch. After finishing her last beer, she turned off the TV. I had long since finished mine and was eagerly waiting for another potty run.

“Well, I’ve got to go to the Ladies’ room again,” she said as she stood. I stood too. “You can stay here.”

“I can put my nose in the corner again.” I offered all too eagerly

“Why? So you can cum in your diaper again? I don’t think so.” The edge in her voice was coming back. “And besides, the sedative I put in your beer is starting to kick in.”

I hadn’t realized, but I was starting to wobble, and then I slumped to the floor. The last thing I remembered was Trish standing over me with an evil smile on her lips. But at that angle, I could see up her shorts, so a faint smile crossed my face.

*****

When I awoke, I found myself in bed with my wife and sister-in-law standing over me. “He wasn’t much trouble, I hope,” my wife said.

“Nope, we watched some TV, and then he fell asleep. I haven’t changed him, so I’m sure he’s quite wet.” Trish informed her sister.

I looked down and saw the big ‘X’ she had put on the second diaper. I was very wet and very uncomfortable. Trish left, and my wife turned her attention to me. “It’s time to get up, you’ve nearly slept the day away.”

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s nearly noon. I guess you needed the sleep. Come on, get so that we can finish cleaning up the extra room,” my wife said, waiting at the end of the bed for me. As I moved to get up, I realized two things fairly quickly. The first was that my diaper was full, and the second was that my ass hurt. Panic flooded over me. What had Trisha done to me while I was out cold? “Come on, honey. Let me get that thing off you.” My wife’s gentle voice brought me back, and I eased my way towards her. Lying on my back with my knees up, my wife removed the soaked diaper. “Oh, honey. You have a rash. I’m sorry, I guess we should have changed you sooner.”

She cleaned me up and rubbed some cream on my rash, spending a lot of time working it into my ass. “I think you can wear your big boy clothes for a while unless we have problems again.” With that, she handed me an old t-shirt and my sweatpants and left the room.

Putting on regular clothes cleared my head; it was like a fog lifting. I started remembering the events of the weekend, playing out the twisted role I had been pressed into. Then I remembered my feeling for Trish and a flood of shame swept over me. I couldn’t believe I had felt that way about my sister-in-law. I went looking for my wife to tell her how sorry I was. I found her working in the extra room, clearing out stuff. Before I could say anything, she jumped up and threw her arms around me. “Do you love me?” She asked.

“Absolutely,” I said with resolve. “But I think I ought to say something. I …”

She interrupted, “I just wanted you to know that I love you too. I’m glad we got married even if your… well… even if your equipment is small.” I was overcome with emotions. I was humiliated, ashamed, angry, and scared. At that moment, all I could do was slump down and cry.

“Oh honey,” my wife said, pulling my head into her lap, “it’s alright. I’ll take care of you.” I just lay there weeping in her lap as she stroked my hair, whispering reassurances quietly in my ear.

*****

By the time I went to sleep Sunday night, I wasn’t sure about anything anymore. That’s not true; the one thing that I was sure about was I had a tiny baby penis. Lucky for me, it seemed my wife didn’t mind and actually liked it that way. I went to sleep confused but woke up even more confused. Everything seemed back to normal. My wife was back to her normal Monday routines without a hint of the weekend’s events. Normal? Could I pretend nothing happened? Did anything happen? I searched for proof that I hadn’t imagined the last two days of torment and humiliation. I got up and went to the bathroom, sitting down to pee. My wife smiled at me from the doorway, “Good boy!” Nope, not completely normal. I looked down to see my shaved cock and balls had some stubble growing back. The rest of the morning played out as usual; I got dressed for work, and my wife prepared for her day.

My drive in taught me something about crotch stubble: it’s uncomfortable. All day I was itchy and distracted. It was a constant reminder that there was something wrong with my dick. I started hating my sister-in-law all over again for doing this to me. By lunchtime I had little red bumps all over the place from where my cotton briefs were rubbing on my pubic area. I realized why my wife trimmed her pubes instead of just shaving them off.

By the end of the day, I became fairly numb to the problem in my crotch and decided never to let this happen again. The drive home was better than the drive in, but the rubbing of my underwear made me irritable. Arriving home, all I wanted to do was change into something comfortable and relax in front of the TV. My wife had food on the table ready to start dinner when I got home.

“Isn’t it a bit early for dinner?” I asked, “I was hoping to get changed and relax a bit before we ate.”

“Yeah, but I got started early on dinner, so let’s just eat before it gets cold. You can change afterward,” she suggested, sitting down at the table.

The food looked good, and I was hungry, so I sat down to dinner and some small talk. As the meal wrapped up, I said, “I don’t know how you do it. My crotch has been itching all day from being shaved down there.”

“I’m sorry, I was wondering if that would give you problems today. Part of the problem is your underwear, and the other is your skin’s not used to being shaved there,” she offered.

“Well, it’s growing back in, so I think I can endure it for a few more days.”

“Unless you get ingrown hairs.”

“Ingrown hairs?” I hadn’t thought about that

“Yeah, that happens a lot, then they get abscessed.” My wife, as cleaning off the table, was scaring me to death about my pubic problems.

“So what should I do?” I was really getting concerned

“Keep the area clean, and I have some cream that will help. But really, your underwear will keep making it worse.” Her eyes met mine, and a slight smile crossed her lips.

*****

“My underwear?” I pondered that for a moment, wondering where she was going with that.

“Yes. You don’t fill out your briefs enough to make them tight, so they just chafe your skin.” Her tone was matter-of-fact and a bit edgy, as if she didn’t like having to explain herself.

“Well, what do you want me to do? Where are your underwear?” I retorted, feeling frustrated by the whole thing.

“Do you want to wear my panties?” She seemed shocked and confused. “I was going to suggest you go bottomless while you’re at home,” she gave me a weird look. “How about we go with my plan for a while, and if it doesn’t seem to help, we’ll go with your plan.”

I was humiliated. I jumped to a strange conclusion, and now my wife thinks I want to wear her panties. I stood up and took off my pants and underwear. My wife examined my pubic area. “Yeah, that’s not going to feel great for a while. How’s your diaper rash doing?” With that, she circled behind me and rubbed my ass cheeks. “Looks like you need a bit of cream back here too.”

I felt ridiculous standing in the kitchen wearing only a shirt and socks while my wife talked about my hairless crotch and diaper rash. She led me by the hand to the bedroom where she had me lie down on the end of the bed with my knees spread apart like I was going to be diapered again. She smeared cream all over my front and ass. She seemed to be getting turned on by this because her breathing was getting huskier and she was rubbing harder and harder. Her handling of my cock and balls was almost to the point of pain, making it hard for me to get excited. When she finished up, she headed for the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

For a moment, I lay there on the bed, wondering what I should do. I finally decided that maybe she was just trying to help and I should go about my evening like normal, or at least what I would do normally. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled in to watch some TV on the couch. After a while, my wife reappeared with a bit of a glow about her. She joined me on the couch for a while, then got bored and moved on to some other activity. By bedtime, my crotch showed signs of improvement. The redness and bumps were gone, and the itching had all but subsided.

*****

I was getting tired, so I decided to find out what my wife was up to. I found her sitting on the floor in the guest room going through some boxes. The way she was sitting, I could see up her skirt. I felt like a little boy peeking under the teacher’s skirt for a thrill. I think she noticed and shifted a bit to cover her sexy exposed panties. She gave me an odd little smile and went back to the box she was rummaging through. I stood there awkwardly for a moment. “€I… I was thinking about going to bed.”I finally said in a small voice. She looked up again with a smirk. “€What?” I asked, wondering what that look was for.

“€You don’t want to know.” Her smirk was turning into a small laugh. Now I was really feeling self-conscious. “What is it? You obviously have something on your mind.”€I insisted

“The way that you’re standing there. You look like a little toddler that forgot to put his pants back on.”€ The smile on her face just fueled my embarrassment. I tugged down the front of my shirt, trying to cover myself. “This… this was your idea.”I stammered in a small voice. I felt like a little kid who got caught doing something foolish.

“Okay then,” she said as she got up, “Let’s try your plan.”€ And before I could comprehend the situation, she was reaching up under her skirt and pulling off her panties. She held them out for me to step into them.

I froze. I had no idea what was going on. It seemed like the whole room was spinning and nothing was really real. The next few moments seemed disjointed and surrealistic, like I was watching a film that I could only half understand. I remember my wife saying, “Ahh, it’s alright,” and “And don’t worry about it, “and something about taking care of it later. My head was swimming as she led me back to our bedroom. Things started to come back into focus. I could see her holding her panties in her hand, and then I became aware of the cool breeze on my butt and the wetness on my …OH MY GOD!!!

“Sweetie, if you need to go potty, you can just go or let me know, and we’ll try to get you there on time. Okay?” My wife was talking to me like I was a three-year-old. Maybe that was appropriate now. What was going on with me? “Do you want to try to pee a bit more in the potty or should I just put a diaper on you?”€・

“Maybe just put a diaper on me.”€ WHAT?!! Did I just ask to be diapered?

“Okay, Sweetie,” she said kindly, and moments later she was tucking me into bed.

I could hear her calling her sister, and I strained to hear what she was saying. “I think you may be right, Sis. I’ll see if we can get an appointment with a doctor as soon as we can… Yes, he just peed while standing there… I know… well, just before that I caught him peeking up my skirt… well, he is a little perv…” Her emphasis on little seemed a bit too pointed. I couldn’t catch much more because she began to walk farther away. My shame seemed to deepen as I lay there, realizing she was talking to her sister about me like I was a child.

I fell asleep determined to put an end to this… tomorrow.

*****

By the time my alarm went off, my wife was already out of bed. There was a note on the dresser that read, “Good morning, Sweetie. I’ve got an appointment first thing, so I’ll see you when you get home. Love you!” My wife left me notes from time to time but rarely left the house before me.

We’ll just have to sort things out tonight. I stretched and started my morning routine. I got my first surprise when I went to my underwear drawer. All my underwear was missing. “Great,” I said testily out loud, “what the hell is with this!”

“Watch your language, young man,” my wife said ruefully from the bedroom doorway.

Startled, I spun around. “I, uh… what… I mean…”

“Well, spit it out.” From her tone, I could tell she was in a hurry.

“Where’s all my underwear?”

“I threw out the ones that had pee stains, and the rest are in the wash.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” I must have been a bit whiny because her look became more impatient. I just stared at her for a moment. I was at a complete loss.

“Go commando or wear the panties that Trish gave you.” I could hear the frustration in her voice

I froze. For some reason, I just couldn’t process what was going on. I just stood there.

“Fine!” She pushed past me and retrieved the panties Trish had left. “Here, wear these. I swear, sometimes I feel like I married a child.” My heart sank with my shoulders. I guess lately I’ve been acting kind of immature, peeing myself and all. I felt a soft touch on my arm.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie. I’m just really nervous and in a hurry.” She kissed my forehead and quickly left. I looked down at the panties in my hand, and something in me snapped. I threw them on the floor, determined to take control once more.

“Going commando it is,” I said definitely to the empty house. I finished dressing, but my slacks were already chafing me and causing discomfort. I was determined to push through and take my manhood back.

My job would never be mistaken for rewarding work. However, it would be classified as mindless data entry. It may seem odd, but I rather enjoy the lack of challenge. I guess that I’m not what you would call ambitious, so this job fits me well. The environment is pleasant, and the work is steady; the only drawback is that my department is mostly women. I’m familiar with my co-workers but not close, so my discomfort didn’t go unnoticed. “You feeling okay?” my cube mate Julie asked. “You look like you’re having some problems over there.”

How am I supposed to explain that my crotch is agitated from having all my pubic hairs shaved off and I’ve got a diaper rash because I was left in a diaper too long and I’m not wearing under because my wife threw them out because they had pee stains from my small penis.

“Ummm… I’m okay. I guess I’m gaining some weight because my pants aren’t fitting me right.” That seemed to throw her off the scent because she went back to clacking away at her keyboard.

By lunchtime, I was in bad shape. Anytime I moved, I hurt; it was like I was having an allergic reaction to my pants. Between the rash on my ass and the pubic stubble, I was having a hard time thinking, which would have been helpful when Julie and some of the other girls started chatting with me. It was close to the end of the day, so I was just focused on getting through and getting home. I was beginning to regret not wearing Trish’s underwear.

“Well, you know, you don’t seem like you’ve put on any weight.”

I was too distracted to think straight. “It’s mostly because I didn’t want to wear my sister-in-law’s panties.” No one could believe that came out of my mouth, let alone me.

The three women looked like statues, unsure what to say next.

“Bikini or briefs,” one finally said.

“Jessica!” Julie exclaimed. Jessica looked me in the eye with an odd glint. “Or was it a thong?”

“I was just joking.” I tried to recover. “I wasn’t sure you were listening, so I made something up.”

“Don’t freak out, Julie, he said. ” He said he wasn’t wearing his sister’s panties.” Jessica wasn’t making the situation better. Julie broke in, “He said sister-in-law, not sister,” turning back to me, “but you really don’t look like you are very comfortable.” All three women looked back at me, but this time with concern rather than horror.

“It’s a long story, and it’s almost time to go. Let’s just say I had a laundry malfunction this morning and leave it at that.”

The third woman finally spoke up, “So it’s not that you’re wearing women’s panties, it’s that you’re not wearing any underwear.” All three women nodded like a decision had been reached and it was okay to move on.

At least they were now more sympathetic to my plight and were letting it go without further embarrassment. With one exception. “I’d bet you’d look cute in a thong,” Jessica said with a wink.

My drive home was much less comfortable than the drive in, both physically and mentally. How was I going to confront my wife about our situation when I was suffering the way that I was? How was I going to tell her to stop treating me like a child when what I really wanted was comfort? And more importantly, how was I going to deal with the fact that my sister-in-law was at my house when I got home?

“Sweetie, I’ve got a couple of things to tell you.” My wife said after greeting me at the door with a kiss. As I moved into the room, my predicament with crotch and rash was obvious.

“What’s wrong with you?” Trish asked coldly

“None of your business,” I muttered with contempt.

“Sweetie, be nice. He’s had a bit of trouble with the diaper rash. We’ll take care of that in a minute. I’ve got some great news to share with you.” My wife seemed to miss the discomfort I was experiencing with her oversharing with her sister. “I got a part-time job, and I also got you a doctor’s appointment for this Friday.”

My mind didn’t know where to start. A part-time job? What was that about? Doctor’s appointment? Is that part of what she’s been talking to Trish about? I needed to sit down and think. I pulled up a chair and winced as I sat down.

Both my wife and her sister were waiting for my reaction. “A job?” I asked, “I didn’t know you were looking. Maybe we could talk about it.”

“It’s really no big deal; it’s part-time and just up the street. I’ll be helping out at the new daycare. I had an interview this morning, and they liked me so much they offered me the job. I’m so excited, and I start tomorrow. I don’t have to go in until after you leave for work, and I’ll be home before you so that nothing will be different for you.” She was beaming, and it seemed very important to her.

“Okay. I guess… I’m okay with it then.” I said, trying to be excited with her, “What’s this about a doctor’s appointment?”

“Well, that’s where it gets a little bit more complicated. Since I’ll be at work,” my wife began, “I won’t be able to take you to the doctor. But Trish knows the doctor, so she said she’d be willing to take you.”

“Why would I need to have someone take me to the doctor? And what is this all about?”

 

 

“It’s about your little problem,” Trish interrupted, “And she’s a friend of mine doing me a favor by seeing you on short notice, so you should be grateful.” She stood to go. “The appointment is at 10:30, so I’ll pick you up at work.”

I looked pleadingly at my wife and got no feedback that she thought that this was at all a little weird. “Thanks, Sis. Talk to you soon.” Turning her attention to me, “Okay Sweetie, let’s see how bad it is.”

She led me to our bedroom, where she insisted on taking my pants off for me. “Oh my! You really must be hurting.” The rash was ten times worse, and my pubic area was glowing red from irritation. “I’m really sorry I was harsh with you this morning. But you should have worn your panties; it would have helped this a lot.”

I lay back on the bed, enjoying the cool air on my lower regions. My wife retrieved the cream she had used before and began to administer it liberally. “I’ve got some bad news for you. If you want this to get better, you can’t wear your normal underwear.”

I looked up at her, and I saw a gentle kindness that reminded me why I loved her so much. The combination of her tenderness, relief from the soreness, and the gentle rubbing made me get aroused. “Oh, do you like that?” my wife asked playfully. I tried to give her a sexy look, but based on her giggle, I don’t think it came across as intended. She helped me off with the rest of my clothes and shed her own. I could tell that she was letting her pubic hairs grow out, and that got me harder and more horny. “You must really want something,” she said, gently squeezing my dick. “But you have cream all over you, and you’re a bit sore down there, so let’s go with plan ‘B’.”

I wasn’t sure what plan ‘B’ was until she lay down on her back and guided my face to her crotch. I went to work on bringing her to orgasm. Lying on my stomach felt good because the weight of my body pressed hard against my raging hard-on. With all the cream down there, I found a little hip movement went a long way. Soon she was bucking hard against my face, and I was enjoying myself too. I sat up like I was going to mount my good lady wife, but the release of pressure and the cool air on my dick produced a fountain of sperm all over my wife. Her reaction was greatly different from what I expected.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to get used to little boys peeing on me if I’m going to be working at the daycare.”

“That wasn’t pee. Honey, that was sperm. I just came all over you.” I pleaded.

Her tone was kind but assertive, “Sweetie, you may have cum, but that was pee. You are limp and still dribbling a bit.”

As she rolled out of bed to get cleaned off, I looked down and saw that she was right. Could I have missed that? Maybe I do need to see a doctor.

My wife returned with new sheets, baby wipes, a diaper, and a smile on her face. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in a diaper so we don’t have to make the bed more than once tonight. Okay?”

*****

“Sweetie, we agreed about this last night. If you want your rash to get better, you need to quit wearing your boy underwear for a while. If you aren’t comfortable with the panties Trish gave you, you can borrow a pair of mine until we can get you your own.”

She waited for my answer. It seemed she was expecting me to reach the same absurd conclusion she had. “Really?” I said, maybe a bit too sarcastically. “That hardly seems like the only option.”

My wife obviously came from the same ninja spanking clan as her sister because I found myself bare-ass across her lap getting the second spanking in a week. She didn’t spank as hard as Trish, but it still stung, and the most humiliating part was the lecture.

“All I’ve been trying to do is help you,” SWAT, SWAT, “and you’ve been fighting me, and I’m tired of it.” SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT “My sister has gone out of her way to help you too, and you’ve been disrespectful and rude.” SWAT SWAT “You have a little problem with a rash, and you are acting like a bratty child when all I’m trying to do is help. Your defiance is unacceptable.” SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT SWAT

When she was done, she stood me up and handed me Trish’s panties. “Now put your panties on and get dressed. And let’s not have a problem like this again.”

I slid the panties on over my now twice-sore butt. Much to my annoyance, it did seem to help. My pants didn’t seem to irritate my rash or stubble. It was a bit snug in the wrong places but overall not uncomfortable. I soon joined my wife in the kitchen, where she had a cup of coffee waiting for me.

“I’m sorry, Honey. I know you are just trying to help me,” I said, wanting to put an end to the conflict between us. “I just feel weird wearing women’s underwear, and with all the other things going on lately, I just…”

Before I could finish my thought, she was beaming and gave me a big hug. “Oh, Sweetie. It’s not that I like punishing you like that, but you were acting childish, and I guess the mom in me just kicked in. It’s Wednesday, so if we don’t have any more incidents like this morning, you’ll be back in your boy panties by the weekend.” She was rubbing my butt over my pants to remind me of what incidents she was talking about. “Now your panties are thinner than you are used to and are made of a different material, so if you aren’t wiping properly after going potty, I will know. So be a good boy today.”

She went back to fixing lunches for both of us. After that tremendously awkward conversation, I was eager to find something else to talk about. “So it’s your first day of work this morning. What will you be doing?”

“I’m kind of a relief worker. I’ll be working from 10 am to 2 pm to help around lunchtime so the full-time staff can take breaks and have lunch. They need me to read to the kids, help out with the littler ones, make bathroom runs with those who need help, and generally be another adult in the mix. I’m really excited.”

Looking at the time, I realized it was getting late. “Sounds like you’ll enjoy it. I can’t wait to hear about it tonight.”

*****

At work, Julie seemed a bit standoffish and distant. I chalked it up to feeling awkward about the conversation from the day before. Mid-morning, Jessica came by and accidentally dropped a box of paper clips, and I bent down to help her clean them up. Soon after that, another girl came by with a stack of files. She slipped, and some of the files fell near me. This happened a couple more times with different objects and different co-workers. Each time, I found myself helping them pick something up off the floor.

Julie seemed really agitated when she rolled her chair towards me so she could speak softly. “Your waistband is showing.” She whispered without making eye contact.

“Huh?”

She whispered slowly and more deliberately, “We can see the waistband of your underwear.”

As the realization of what she was saying sank in, I found myself paralyzed with fear.

“Thank you,” I replied breathlessly, pulling my shirt down as best I could

For the rest of the day, I avoided any contact with my co-workers. I imagined every possible scenario in which the news of my underwear choice was spread throughout the office. I felt sick and contemplated just going home for the day. I couldn’t just forget about the fact that I was wearing women’s underwear because I was reminded every time I went to the bathroom. Having to sit to pee so I could make sure not to dribble in my underwear didn’t keep my situation far from my mind.

With only fifteen minutes left in the day, Jessica strolled over to my desk. I felt like I was back in grade school, waiting for the schoolyard bully to give me a wedgie. “Another laundry malfunction today?” She said playfully

I braced myself for the worst. “I’m sure you all had a good laugh at my expense today,” I was upset but trying to remain in control, “but I’d like it if you would just leave me alone.” My eyes never left the spot on the floor halfway between Jessica and me.

“I was just playing with you,” she said, a hurt tone in her voice. “No one really noticed but Julie and me. I just sent the other girls around just to have some fun. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

I looked up at her and didn’t see any malice in her face. I gave her a weak smile, “It’s been a rough week.”

“So what gives?” Jessica pressed.

“Just leave him alone, Jessica,” Julie snapped.

“Oh come on. YOU want to know as much as I do.” They both looked back at me expectantly.

I sighed heavily and began the excuse I’d been rehearsing in my head all day. “I seem to be having an allergic reaction to something, and my wife thought a change of material might narrow down the possibilities.”

“See Julie,” Jessica quipped at her friend, “there is a reasonable explanation.”

“You were right,” Julie said sheepishly.

” I’ve got a doctor’s appointment on Friday, so I’m hoping to know more then,” I continued.

“So you’ll be wearing panties for the rest of the week?” Jessica’s question hung in the air for a moment.

“Well, yes… I guess.” I stammered.

“But just for medical reasons, right?” Julie seemed worried again.

“Yes… right. Of course, just for medical reasons.” My confidence with this conversation was wavering. “I should be heading home, see you tomorrow,” I said, making my retreat to the door.

For the first time this week, I was really looking forward to getting home. I wanted to get out of these panties and relax with a beer in front of the TV. I started thinking about my wife’s first day at work and wondered how it went for her. I started thinking about what she might be wearing when I got home. I started thinking about how she’s been going bra-less around the house lately. I was getting more and more anxious to get home. Then I remembered noticing that she was letting her pubic hair grow out. I was really getting turned on and could feel my erection pressing hard against the soft, thin material. I was very relieved to find that Trish’s car wasn’t in front of my house when I got home.

By the time I reached the front door, I was in full horn-dog mode. I found my wife in the kitchen getting dinner together. I came up behind her and gave her kisses on the back of her neck.

“Somebody must have had a good day.” She said coyly, pressing her body back against mine.

I wanted to jump her bones right there but still tried to be conversational. “Did you have a good first day at work?” I could tell she wanted to share her day with me but didn’t want to break the mood.

She turned around and pressed her hips against mine. “You don’t really want to talk about my day, do you?”

Sexiness was oozing from her voice. There was no way she could miss my hard-on through the thin skirt she was wearing. We started to make out like we were a couple of teens on a Saturday night. I reached under her skirt and ran my hand over her thigh, discovering that she wasn’t wearing her normal sexy thong but a more conservative pair of panties. I started to hook my finger into the waistband to pull them down when she pushed back and began rubbing my cock through my pants.

I was panting hard when she opened my pants, revealing my pulsating hard-on straining against the thin fabric. “Oh, you’ve been a bit of a naughty boy, haven’t you?” Her voice was like an opiate. ” You’ve made a little mess in your cute panties.”

With her index finger, she circled the pre-cum stop I was leaving on the panties. Then she slowly lowered both my underwear and pants to my ankles, adding to the hurricane of sensations. As she stood back up, her hair gently brushed against the head of my cock. I was so lightheaded because the blood was rushing away from my head towards the only organ of importance at that point.

My wife stepped back slightly as if to admire her work. The anticipation was just to the point of pain when she reached out and lightly touched the most sensitive spot on my sex organ, that point on the underside of my cock where the shaft and head meet. Just then, this hurricane went from a category 5 to a category 0.

“Now that wasn’t pee.” She said with a laugh. I was still twitching from the mind-blowing orgasm I just had. When my eyes could focus again, I looked at my wife. “Did I get any on you?”

She laughed again and shook her head. “You don’t shoot that far, Sweetie.” She produced some wipes from what looked like a backpack and wiped off the remnants of sperm from her hand and my penis, then dabbed at a small spot on the floor. I could tell she was a little disappointed with the lack of participation in our sexual encounter, but she proceeded with the clean up without complaint.

“Honey,” I started to say

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, then I can check on your rash,” she interrupted. She picked up my clothes and examined the panties briefly. I couldn’t quite read her expression, but I could tell she wasn’t pleased with the mess I made in the panties. “You know I told you to be careful with these panties.” Her tone was changing from flat to stern. The closer we got to the bedroom, the more I sensed that something less pleasant was coming.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to be careful”

“Did you wipe every time you went potty?”

“I think so.” I was feeling less sure about my answer

She sniffed at the panties as she sat on the end of the bed and motioned for me to stand before her. “They smell a bit pissy to me,” she held them out for me to smell.

“Come on now,” she insisted, “take a good sniff.”

From the way that she was holding them, I could only see the spot made by my pre-cum. She pressed them into my nose, and, still a bit fresh, she ended up wiping them on my nose. I winced at the thought.

“See? You smell it too.”

I could tell by her tone that I should argue. She spread her legs and lifted her skirt, revealing a simple pair of cotton panties. My eyes were fixed on her crotch. She sensed that she had me hooked and leaned back slightly to show me a bit more. “Do you like looking up my skirt?”

I couldn’t respond. I was stuck between a sense of impending doom and the feeling of seeing something I wasn’t supposed to look at. “Do you see any pee stains on my panties?”

Her actions didn’t match her behavior. She still sounded like she was scolding me, trying to explain an obvious truth, but she was clearly spreading her legs and showing me her underwear.

“Get closer,” she demanded. “Take a good look.”

I was on my hands and knees with my face inches away from your panty-clad pussy. Since I had just recently released all my sexual energy, I found I was experiencing an odd clarity. I found myself actually examining her panties for pee stains. As quickly as it had started, it was over. She was sitting back on the edge of the bed, covering up her panties with her skirt. I was completely dumbfounded. Was this really an exercise in showing me she didn’t pee in her panties? Did I miss something?

“Now we need to deal with a couple of things,” she began in a serious tone, “First, I asked you this morning to be careful not to mess your nice panties, and you did. Second, because you’ve wet your panties, I think it best just for you to wear a diaper for the rest of the evening. Later we will have to talk about what to do about tomorrow. Now lie across my lap.”

Somewhere in my rational mind this all made no sense. But at that moment it seemed perfectly reasonable for my wife to be spanking me for cumming in her sister’s panties because I was horny. Maybe I did deserve a spanking for that.

After the punishment was administered, I was put in a diaper and sent back to the kitchen to wash the lettuce and cut up some vegetables while she “took care of something” in the bathroom.

*****

It took her a while to join me in the kitchen. She had changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. She returned with a big smile and a bounce in her step. Since she had taken so long, I had our salads made and the table set. I was just pouring a beer for myself when she came over and gave me a huge kiss on the mouth.

“What was that for?” I said, confused by the manic behavior of my wife.

“Because I know that you love me,” she said with a wink. “Now it looks like you did an excellent job getting dinner on the table.” She patted me on my diapered behind.

We sat and chatted like a normal couple for a long time. She told me all about her new job and the excitement she had for being able to help out. Anytime I was getting low on my beer, she would get me another. In stark contrast to earlier, I was enjoying this kind of attention from my wife.

It wasn’t until my third beer that the conversation turned to my day. “So did you have a better day today?” She asked innocently

“No,” I spoke too quickly and with too much emotion. I hadn’t wanted to talk about getting discovered by Julie and Jessica, but I was starting to feel tipsy.

“What happened? I thought the panties helped the rash.” She asked with concern

“It did, but a couple of co-workers saw the waistband above my pants.” I was starting to re-live the emotions of my day. The alcohol in my system was betraying me.

“What did they say? Did they bully you?” Her tone was taking on a motherly protective tone.

“It’s alright. I told them I was having an allergic reaction to my pants, so I needed to wear women’s underwear for a while.”

Her expression went blank. “That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.” She said flatly.

After saying it out loud to her, I had to agree. After a moment, her demeanor softened. “Did they believe you?”

“I guess.” I was feeling really dumb for such a lame excuse, and it dawned on me just then that Jessica and Julie probably didn’t believe me.

“I’m sure it will be alright. I’m disappointed you lied, and it seems you’ve painted yourself into a corner. Now you will have to wear panties to work for a while.” The amusement in her voice concerned me a bit. “Finish up that beer while I clear the table, then we can sit on the couch and talk more.”

I was only halfway through the bottle, so I chugged the rest down. The sudden flood of alcohol in my system tipped my scales to drunk. I stumbled a bit standing up, but my wife didn’t notice. She grabbed another beer for me and headed out of the room. I thought I should protest, but my judgment was already impaired. I wasn’t stumbling drunk, but it was taking great effort not to appear that way. My wife had already settled down on the couch with a glass of wine. She handed me the beer before I sat down, so I ended up spilling a little.

We chatted a bit more about my excuse to my co-workers. The topics seemed to jump around from there. The guest room needed painting, the car’s tires needed to be rotated, more stories about her first day at work, and other benign conversations to pass the time. I was doing pretty good until I started missing my mouth and dribbling beer down my front.

Without pausing what she was saying, she retrieved a child’s cup from her backpack, the one with baby wipes from earlier. She took the top off, and as if it was the most natural thing to do, she poured the remaining beer into the juvenile cup and handed it back to me. She was still mid-sentence when I interrupted, “What’s this?”

“A sippy cup, Sweetie. You seemed to be having problems, so I was trying to help you out.”

I was slightly amused with this new contraption but couldn’t quite figure out how to work it. My, noticing my difficulty, said, “You don’t know how to work it, do you? Here,” she sat down and pulled my head to her lap, positioning me on my back looking up at her. There had been something nagging at me for the last half hour, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it until that moment.

I had about three and a half beers and needed to pee badly. With the shift of position, my bladder gave out and flooded my diaper. The relief must have shown on my face because my wife smiled knowingly and guided the cup to my lips. “You suck on the end, and the liquid comes out,” she said softly once the cup was in place. After a couple of less-than-successful tries, I got the rhythm of it down and quickly finished the cup.

My loving wife was looking down at me, stroking my hair as I stared blissfully into her eyes. As the moment wore on, the hot urine filling my diaper turned colder. The change was starting to irritate my already sensitive skin. Again, my wife could read my face. “Something wrong, Sweetie?”

” I’ve wet myself,” I explained

“I know,” she replied, continuing to stroke my hair.

“It’s starting to irritate my rash.”

“Your diaper rash,” she corrected, “I’m sure that it is.”

She just sat there looking at me, stroking my hair. The more I lay there in my wet diaper, the more uncomfortable I became.

“Ummm, it’s really starting to hurt.” I was beginning to whine.

“Looks like you sure wet a lot. I can see how that would be affecting your diaper rash.”

She was distracted almost to the point of apathy.

I wanted to cry. Here I was with a wet diaper, and she wasn’t doing anything about it. We seemed to be at an impasse. She reached under my shirt and started rubbing my belly. Well, that had the wrong effect. I started peeing again. A little laugh escaped her lips as she realized I was wetting again. “I don’t know if that can hold much more.” She seemed to be enjoying my misery

Finally, she stood up and looked down at me. “Do you want something?” she seemed to be teasing me. I reached out to get up but only managed to pull my wife’s sweatpants down to her knees. She wasn’t wearing panties. “Really, Sweetie?” She said, pulling her pants back up, “I don’t think you’re up for that.”

I sat upright on the couch, and my wife squatted down in front of me like she was talking to a little child. “Do…you…want…something?” she repeated slowly. I wanted to say something, but for the life of me I didn’t know what she was getting at.

“Wait here,” she said, walking off. Now we’re getting somewhere. She’s finally going to help me. She returned shortly with the sippy cup refilled.

“I can’t drink anything else,” I pleaded.

“It’s just apple juice. I thought it might help you sober up.” She held the cup to my lips.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I peed again. I looked at her imploringly. “Will you please change me?” I sobbed.

She smiled gently, “All you had to do was ask. I’ll get the diaper bag.” She got the backpack she had been pulling stuff out of all evening and laid out a water-resistant mat for me to lie down on.

She peeled off the completely saturated diaper and began wiping all the urine off my pubic area. I lay there bottomless, expecting she would put another diaper on me. She just patted my leg, indicating she wanted me off the mat.

“What if I need to go potty again?” I asked as she was putting everything back into the diaper bag

“Do you need to go potty again?” She said, distracted with her task

“Well, maybe I do.” She gave me an odd look, then shrugged.

“Okay,” she sighed, taking me by the hand and leading me to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet for a while but didn’t pee again. She was very patient, but it was obvious I wasn’t going to pee any more just then.

“I think you need to air out for a while. Why don’t we go and watch something on TV, and if you feel like you need to go potty again, we can come back.”

“Why do you have a diaper bag?” I asked

She looked at me as if I had asked a rhetorical question. “Aren’t you glad that I do?”

I wasn’t sure if I was.

We didn’t spend much time watching TV. I drank a couple cups of apple juice, and she sat me on the potty before bed so I wouldn’t have an accident. I slid on the pair of shorts I like to sleep in, and within minutes I was out cold.

 

The End.

 

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