SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

-1-

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 had never really gotten along, and she was against my wife and me getting married.

After a couple of hours out in the yard, I was hot, tired, and no longer wanting to do 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 on her face. 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. Maybe my prayers were answered, and nothing would come from it. It wasn’t until the next weekend that I realized that event had changed my wife.

-2-

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 for her to refer to them as “big boy” clothes. By the time I reached my clothes, my wife was out of 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 day’s end, 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 weird 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 guard at each door?” My wife looked up in surprise. “No. I heard you drive 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 looked a lot like 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 not knowing 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 turned very stern, 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.

-3-

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 I 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 asleep. I must have slumped over because I ended 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 quick 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.

– 4 –

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 the left.

With the pressure of my body, my dick was demanding some immediate attention. Still very close, I decided 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 that I just humped the bed, or do I let her think that 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.

– 5 –

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,” and she 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.

– 6 –

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 down 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.”

– 7 –

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.

– 8 –

We worked in silence for about half an 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 express 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.” Astonish, 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 with my 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 on her face. “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, 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 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”

– 9 –

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 close and close 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 held 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 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 most kind and sweet voice I had ever heard come out of her mouth. “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 regard for my 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 have 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 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 baby-sit 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.”

– 10 –

“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 hairs were wild and uncut and 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 how’s dickie hasn’t grown up yet. Isn’t that right?” She paused and 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 somewhat 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 to drink. 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 after Trish stood up. “Come on,” she said impatiently and waited 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 frig 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 me 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.

-11-

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 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 awhile 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.

-12-

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.

-13-

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 the the other is you’re skins 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.

-14-

“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, like 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 more husky 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 another activity. By bedtime, my crotch showed signs of improvement. The redness and bumps have gone down, and the itching has all but subsided.

-15-

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 up the teacher’s skirt to get 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 “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 shamed 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.

-16-

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 underwear 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 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 to see 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?”

– 17 –

“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 like she was expecting me to come to the same absurd conclusion that she had come to. “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 anymore incidences 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.”

– 18 –

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?” Sexy 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 got the sense 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 feeling of impending doom and the feeling of seeing something that I wasn’t supposed to be looking 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 quick 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.

– 19 –

It took her awhile 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 coworkers saw the waistband above my pants.” I was starting to relive 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 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 in the process.

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 before. 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’d 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 and took me by the hand, 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 awhile. 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 like I 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 of 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 I like to sleep in, and within minutes I was out cold.

– 20 –

The morning came too soon. The result of drinking too much the night before was becoming evident by the throbbing in my head. My wife was already up and dressed when I dragged my body out of bed.

“Well, well. We’re sure a slow mover this morning.” My wife was up and dressed and way too chipper in the morning. “You stayed dry all night, so let’s get you to the potty before it’s too late.” I followed her into the bathroom and sat down and peed. “What a good boy you are for peeing in the potty.”

“Now let’s get you dressed. You’ve got some decisions to make,” she was standing at her panty drawer looking in. She picked out three pairs for me to choose from; one had a pink flowery print all over it, one had a lacy waistband, and the third was a thong. My wife gave me a quick rundown of the different styles and cuts of panties. Evidently, the style my sister-in-law prefers is a bikini. My wife, on the other hand, felt that thongs best suited her style, at least until recently.

“Let’s try these on and see what you like,” my wife said.

“I really don’t think it matters much; I’ll go with these.” I reached for the pink ones.

“Okay,” I could hear the disappointment in her voice. I put them on, but somehow they didn’t fit right, and not in the way I would have expected. The waistband was too loose, and the leg openings were too tight. My wife looked at me and raised her eyebrows. She placed her hands on her hips and said, “Well?”

“They don’t fit,” I said in a small voice.

“No, they don’t. Are you going just to wear them, or are you willing to try on the next pair?”

I felt like I was being scolded, and I wanted to avoid another session over my wife’s knees. “I’ll try on another pair.”

“Let’s try the thong on next.” Her smile was devilish.

I was starting to feel like Goldilocks; the first one was too big, and this one was too small. The sight of me wearing a thong made my wife laugh. To be honest, I had to laugh too. It was uncomfortable, and I couldn’t understand how she could wear them all the time with it pulled up between her butt cheeks. “How is this not like a continual wedgie?” I asked my wife.

“You get used to it,” she replied as she helped me out of them. “Well, we are down to the last pair. These should work fine for you.”

“They’re kind of feminine,” I said, examining the lace.

“Yes, they are, but they are women’s panties after all.” Her smile was beautiful. “But before you put these on, we should talk about what happened yesterday.”

“I tried to be good when going potty.” I was feeling defensive

“Well, there was that too, but I’m talking about the other fluids you drip out down there.”

I started to feel ashamed and wondered if I was heading for another round of spankings.

She continued, “Maybe a preemptive strike would help.” My mind was racing as I tried to comprehend what she was talking about. She got a tissue from the nightstand and came around behind me. With the tissue in one hand, she slowly stroked my hardening cock. Leaning back on my fully clothed wife, I could feel the fabric of her skirt on my naked butt. The way she rhythmical worked my cock up and down, the way she was whispering “That’s right” and “good boy” in my ear, and the way she was squeezing and releasing at just the right times was driving me to the brink faster than ever before. I was getting close, and when my hips began to pump against her hand, she moved the tissue into position to catch. Not the most intense orgasm, but effective. She backed away from me so I would stand on my own.

“Well, that only took two minutes,” she said matter-of-factly. “And not too much mess.” I could see what she meant; there wasn’t much on the tissue from where I ejaculated. “Now, that should help curb your desires today and help you focus on your work.”

I had a feeling of letdown for the experience, like I had been cheated somehow. I slid the lacy panties on and finished getting dressed. My wife handed me my coffee cup and lunch on my way out the door for work. I sipped at my coffee on my drive into work, but it wasn’t coffee this morning. My wife had filled my cup with tea. Once I reached the office, I called home to demand an explanation.

“Sweetie, I decided you didn’t need the caffeine. You’ve been wetting yourself lately, and since you are wearing my panties, I have a vested interest in you not peeing in my clothes,” she was being very blunt, and the truth stung. “Now, enjoy your day and be a good boy.”

As soon as I was off the phone, Jessica was at my desk. “So…,” she said, leaning against my desk, “I was thinking about your problem last night.”

“Jessica! Why don’t you just leave it alone?” Julie interrupted, joining the conversation.

“Oh, hear me out. I have you thought about pantyhose?”

My jaw dropped, and Julie gasped.

“No, really. Think about it. You’d get a lot better coverage, and you won’t have chafing anywhere.”

At least the logic was there. “I don’t know how practical that would be,” I said.

“More practical than lacy panties.” She said, pointing to the exposed waistband.

Julie gasped again, and I blushed. “My wife picked them out,” I said sheepishly.

“Does she also put you over her knee when you’re naughty?” Jessica teased

“Jessica! I insist. You get back to your desk and leave him alone.” Julie sounded mad.

“Pantyhose. I’m telling you, it could help.” With that, Jessica sauntered away.

After Jessica left, Julie gave me a considering look, almost as if she wanted to know the answer to Jessica’s question. I tried hard to focus on my work, but the morning conversations kept coming back. The bluntness of my wife about my wetting problem. Jessica asking if my wife spanked me. I had made several trips to the bathroom trying to make sure there would be no problems for my wife to find when I got home. Jessica left me alone the rest of the day, but I caught Julie looking over at me like she wanted to say or ask something.

As the end of the day approached, I was hopeful that I would escape without another pow-wow with the girls. “You had a lot of bathroom trips today,” Julie said as I was packing up for the day.

“Maybe your pan… I mean underwear is too tight. Maybe…”

“They’re not too tight. They fit fine,” I said hastily. I looked up at her to see an odd expression on her face.

“They… fit… fine?” she said slowly. “I would have thought they would be, well, a bit binding in some places.”

“I didn’t mean that… I… well yes, they are tight… It’s that…” I was panicking. “I’m having bladder issues.” I finally blurted out

She blinked, and a look of sympathy and concern worked its way across her face. “I’m sorry,” she said regretfully, “I guess that I…”

I stopped her there. “I’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.” We both went silent.

“For your rash?” she asked. She looked like she was putting the pieces of a puzzle together, but there were still a few gaps. I turned to leave without answering and found Jessica standing right behind me, speechless. She looked like she had finished putting the puzzle together.

“Maybe I could just call in sick tomorrow.” I pleaded with my wife.

“Sweetie, the appointment is just for a few hours in the morning. You shouldn’t miss too much work.”

“But I don’t feel like going to work.”

“Did your friends tease you about your pretty panties?” she said jokingly, then with concern, “Did something happen?”

I tried to explain the conversation I had with Julie. My wife smiled at me, kissed me on the forehead, and said, “You’re going to work tomorrow, and that’s final.”

– 21 –

I woke up before the alarm went off. The diaper my wife put me in at bedtime was soaked. My rash was inflamed, and I had a sense of dread for the coming day. When my wife came in, she was surprised to see me awake. “Anxious about your day?”

“Just a whole lot.” I replied weakly, “You sure I can’t call in sick?”

“Are you sick? Do you want me to take your temperature and find out?”

“No, I’ll get up.” After taking the diaper off me and cleaning me up, she led me to the bathroom for our normal potty routine.

As she was picking out clothes for me, I got a bit excited about the possibility of another morning treat from my wife. It looked like she wasn’t thinking along the same lines, so I asked, “Do you think I need another ‘preemptive strike’ this morning?” The look I got from my wife made me doubt I was speaking English. It seemed to take her a minute to process what I said, as if she didn’t have the context to put it in. “Oh, that. No, Sweetie, I don’t think we’ll need to do that this morning. I picked you up a pair of training pants. See?” She held up what somewhat resembled my regular underwear but looked different. “Some of the children at the daycare wear these when they have trouble getting to the potty on time. It has an absorbent, reinforced front panel to catch the pee. You still should try to get to the potty on time today, but this should keep you dry if you don’t quite make it.”

“And they don’t look like panties.” Oddly, that seemed to give me a feeling of confidence.

“No, they don’t look like panties. I thought you might appreciate that.”

By the time I was heading out the door, I was almost looking forward to getting to work. It wasn’t until my wife said, “Trish said she’ll pick you up at the street just after 10 am. She’s sweet and all, but she doesn’t like to wait,” that all the anxiety came flooding back and I felt a sense of urgency. I looked down at my crotch. My wife joined my gaze. “Did you just have an accident?” she asked cautiously.

“I think so,” I said.

“You think so? You’re not sure?”

I wasn’t sure. “It felt like I might have peed.”

“Well, let’s just check and see. I don’t want to send you out with wet pants first thing in the morning.” She opened my pants and tucked her index finger into the leg opening. She felt around, brushing against my penis a few times. I quickly reacted to her touch. When she realized that I was getting aroused, she quickly removed her hand.

“Were you trying to get me to feel your little pee-pee?” She said mockingly with a smile

“No, honest, I thought I might have… ” Then it happened: I peed in the training pants. We were both taken by surprise. I was still staring down at the wet spot when my wife said, “At least your body was telling you that you needed to go. We just didn’t get you to the potty. Come on, let’s get you changed. At this rate you may get your wish.” She stopped dead, turned, and looked at me sternly. “Did you do this on purpose?” Her tone was harsh. “Did you just pee yourself so you wouldn’t have to go into work this morning?” I must have had a look of sheer terror on my face because she softened. “I just don’t want to have that kind of deceitful behavior around here.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear.” I was afraid that I was headed for another spanking. “I just…I’m sorry.” I could feel tears welling up.

She stopped again but gently this time. “I’m sorry too. Maybe you aren’t feeling well. I’ll take your temperature and see if you have a fever. Why don’t you go sit on the potty for a bit while I sort things out for this morning?” I headed for the bathroom, and she headed for the phone.

“I called your work and explained you’d be in later. Trish will pick you up here…” My wife was talking as she entered the bathroom. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you,” I said. I was standing there with my pants still on and the wet underwear cooling against my skin.

She laughed and helped me out of my clothes. “It helps you pee standing up, but I’m afraid you’d spray the walls the way you’ve been reacting to my touch lately.” So she sat me down on the potty. Standing there, she looked very matronly. I don’t know why I’d been so horny lately, but everything seemed to be setting me off. My penis was sticking straight out and looking for trouble. She seemed embarrassed when she noticed it. “Well, maybe you’re okay after all.” She stood there a minute without making eye contact, then finally said, “I think you’re done. Please wipe and let’s get you dressed.”

“I thought you’d need more than one, but I didn’t think it would be this soon.” She was holding up another pair of training pants for me to wear. The first one was plain white; this one had a childish print on the front and back. I hesitated for a moment.

“Sweetie, I need to get ready for work too, so if you could pick up the pace, that would help.”

I complied and put on the new pair of training pants. Looking at me, a smile came to her face again, and that made me happy. “Now you can go get some tea or juice and watch some TV until Trish gets here to pick you up.” I stood there watching her for a moment. She blushed. “Go on,” she said and shooed me out of the room.

There wasn’t enough hot water in the kettle for tea, so I decided juice sounded good. In the cupboard where two sippy cups next to the normal glasses. I reached for the sippy cups then caught myself. I poured a big glass of apple juice and decided to read the paper for a while. After a couple of minutes of that, I was bored. I wandered around the house a bit and settled down in front of the TV. Flipping through the channels, I couldn’t find anything to watch. I had finished my juice and took the glass back to the kitchen. I left the TV on the last channel, playing a dumb commercial about getting a degree from home.

When I got back, my wife was standing in front of the TV with her back to me.

“Whatcha watchin’,” I said. She turned, revealing the TV was tuned to a preschooler show.

“I was wondering the same,” she said, laughing.

“It was…” I started

“It’s okay, whatever makes you comfortable.” She winked and continued, “Trish should be here any minute, so don’t forget to lock the door behind you when you leave. Give me a call when you get done. I may be busy, so leave a voicemail. Please be kind to Trish; she is going out of her way to help you. I didn’t make you a lunch because I wasn’t sure what time you’d be done at the doctor, so you may have to pick up something on the way back into work.” A wave of information and words was washing over me. I almost thought I should be taking notes. She turned off the TV and kissed my forehead, “Be a good boy today, alright?” I nodded, and a minute later she was out the door. Not too long after that, Trish was honking her horn outside.

She had a basket of stuff in the front seat, so I had to sit in the back. “I hope we aren’t going to have any problems this morning,” she said gruffly.

“Thank you for taking me; I won’t cause any trouble,” I replied respectfully.

She turned around and looked. “What gives? You’ve never been that polite to me.”

“I was told to be nice,” I reported.

“This will be a nice change.” She faced forward again, and we were silent the rest of the time.

 

 

– 22 –

The doctor’s office had a smallish waiting room filled with brightly colored murals of rainbows, flowers, and friendly-looking animals. There were a few mothers there with their little children. When we got in the door, Trish pointed to a seat and told me to wait for her there. I complied without a word. She paused a moment in wonder. I was beginning to enjoy making her feel unsettled by my good behavior. After Trish signed me in and chatted with the desk nurse, she joined me. “You’re all set,” she said happily, patting my knee.

I scanned the waiting room. “What kind of doctor is this?” I asked her. I was just putting the pieces together when I read the word ‘Pediatrics’. I turned to her and, in a harsh whisper, said, “You brought me to a pediatric doctor.”

She had a wicked smile on her face. “You were told to be nice.”

That was it; I wasn’t going to stand for that kind of humiliation. I stood up abruptly and glared down at her. She glared back at me. It’s hard to explain why you do what you do when you have lost control of your emotions, but at the moment all I could think to do was stick my tongue out at her. She escalated by standing up and said a little too loudly, “They have a place here where I can take a naughty boy who needs a spanking.”

Before the conflict went any further, the nurse called us back to settle into an examination room. “I am going to have to tell your…” the phrase stuck in her mouth, and she went silent. We sat quietly in the examination room, working hard not to look at each other. I was upset and embarrassed both by her threat to spank me and by my behavior. I could tell she was still mad at me, but I had another issue that was becoming important. I had that feeling again, like I did that morning. The one who told me I needed to be taken to the potty.

“Trish?” I said softly. She wouldn’t look at me. “Trish? I’m sorry I behaved badly.” The shock on her face was worth the humiliation of having to apologize. “Thank you for apologizing,” she finally said.

“Trish?” She was looking right at me now. “I have to use the potty.”

“It’s through that door there.” She pointed to a door just to the left of the one we came in. “They have a bathroom in each exam room.” I waited.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Come on.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the bathroom. She quickly pulled my pants down but hesitated a moment when she saw the training pants. Pull those down to my knees as well. She pointed me towards the potty, and none too soon. That cup of juice had caught up to me, and I was relieved to let it out. Trish stood there impatiently watching me while I finished up. When I reached to pull up my pants, she stopped me. “Not so fast, Honey.” I saw a look of mischief on her face. “Don’t forget to wipe.”

I reached for a piece of toilet paper and squeezed a few drops from my penis. “And flush,” she added. I complied with her request and then pulled up my training pants. Before I could pull up my pants, she stopped me again. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to tell my sister or not about your behavior,” she started, “but your defiance and rudeness must be dealt with.”

She put the lid down the toilet and motioned for me to lie across her lap. Panic set in when I realized that this might be the room she spoke of earlier. My hesitation didn’t help the situation. She reached over, pulled down my training pants, and drew me across her lap. I whimpered a bit in anticipation. “Now, because you apologized, I’m only going to give you five swats. I would remind you that the walls are kind of thin, so if you decide to scream and yell, everyone will know that you were naughty and got a spanking. Do you understand?” I nodded and braced myself for the punishment.

The first two came quick and hard. My butt stung like it never had before. She paused a moment. Then two more quick smacks. I lay across her lap for what seemed like an eternity waiting for the last one. Finally it happened. My ass was on fire. I don’t know how she managed to make it hurt so much, but I prayed she’d never share her technique with my wife. I was done, and she let me stand up. I wanted to cry so bad but didn’t want anyone to know what just happened. Although I’m sure they could hear her swatting me. I looked at her, and I could have sworn I saw a tear in her eye. Maybe I was wrong about her. I could see in the mirror the state of my butt. It was bright red with the perfect outline of her hand emblazoned on my left cheek.

When we opened the door, a nurse was standing there, waiting to check my vitals and start my chart. Her eyes flipped between me and Trish. She gave Trish a sympathetic look and me a scornful one. “Now, young man, let’s get started,” the nurse said, taking control.

She took my blood pressure, my weight, and my temperature, then turned to Trish and asked, “And why are we here to see the doctor today?”

I could have sworn it was Trish’s birthday, Christmas, and every holiday you get gifts. Trish looked like she had been given the golden goose. “Where should we start?” she said, looking at me. “We’re concerned that he is underdeveloped in certain areas.”

“You need to be specific, so I know what to put in his chart,” the nurse interjected

“Well, to say it bluntly, his penis seems to be too small for his age.”

The nurse paused, looked up slightly, then made a few notes.

“And,” Trish continued, “he hasn’t been making it to the toilet on time and wetting himself.”

The nurse looked up at me this time, then made a few more notes. “Is there anything else? Other symptoms?”

“His behavior hasn’t been real good lately. He’s been rude and defiant.” Trish was on a roll.

The nurse just nodded but didn’t make any notes. “Anything else I should make note of?” the nurse prompted.

“Well, there is one thing,” Trish was really enjoying this, “he’s been touching himself a lot lately.”

The nurse dropped her pen, and I wanted to curl up and die. The nurse regained her composure and cleared her throat. “I’ll let the doctor know all this, and she should be with you shortly.”

I was sure I heard laughter coming from the hallway after the nurse left. I looked up at Trish, and she just smiled back at me. When the doctor came in, Trish got to her feet and greeted her friend. “It’s been a while, Trish,” the doctor said warmly.

“Thank you so much. It was good that you could see us this week.” Trish and the doctor chatted briefly before the focus shifted to me. She scanned my chart, pausing a couple of times to re-read some sections. Finally, she looked at me and said, “I’m going to need you to take off your shirt and pants; you can leave your underwear on for now.”

I looked at the doctor, then at Trish. I didn’t really want to be there, and I certainly didn’t want to be sitting in just my underwear. Trish leaned forward and asked, “Do we need to have another talk in the bathroom?” I quickly took off my shirt and handed it to her. Reluctantly, I took off my pants, exposing the training pants with the juvenile print.

“My, my. But aren’t those cute.” The doctor said playfully. “Now sit up on the table and let’s listen to your heart.” After a few minutes of moving her stethoscope around my chest, she said, “Now lie down on your back. If you feel any pain, let me know.” She proceeded to press on my belly and down toward my hips. “Now I’m just going to roll down your underwear a bit.” True to her word, she pulled the waistband down before she started putting pressure on my bladder. At first, I was glad I had recently gone potty, but with her pushing, I got the urge to go again. Before I realized it, a wet spot had formed on my training pants.

“Mmmm,” said the doctor in a clinical tone, and she made some notes in my chart. “Now, let’s get these off and take a look and see what we got.” She pulled the training pants the rest of the way off and handed them to Trish.

The arrangement of the examination room put Trish at the end of the table, looking straight down the length, so when the doctor told me to lie back and put my feet flat on the table with my knees bent, Trish had a full view of everything. The table was set at a slight angle so I could look to see Trish watching with amusement.

“Looks like someone has recently needed an attitude adjustment,” she said, noticing my sisters-in-law and print on my butt. I hope we’re done with any problems we may have had,” she looked me in the eye. I nodded quickly. “Well, okay then. I just need to take a few measurements here, and we’ll be done.” The doctor produced an instrument called a caliper and measured from the edge of my scrotum to my anus. “Interesting,” she said, making more notes in my chart. She then pressed that same area a few times and asked if that hurt. Shook my head. “Interesting,” the doctor said again.

Turned my head to look at Trish, who was fixated on what the doctor was doing. She had uncrossed her legs and was sitting in such a way that I could see up her skirt. From my vantage point, I could see her panties.

The doctor was looking away, making notes, and Trish was doing her best to read them. My sex organ began to react to the visual stimulus I was receiving. I couldn’t look away, and the more I looked, the harder I got. Trish shifted and opened her legs wider. I could see more of her panties. Shifted again, and I thought I could see some of her pubic hairs poking out the side. I was starting to pant, and that got the doctor’s attention.

“Oh my. I don’t see that a lot in my practice,” she said, reacting to my erection. I looked up to see Trish staring right at me with an evil grin on her face. She did that on purpose.

“I got excited looking up my skirt,” Trish was enjoying my humiliation, but she wasn’t crossing her legs again. The doctor positioned herself at the end of the table with her caliper, again taking measurements of my erect penis. With the level of clinical attention, my erection subsided; that was until the doctor went back to make more notes in my chart. Again, I could see up Trish’s skirt, but while the doctor had her back turned, Trish had shifted, and I could clearly see her thick pubic hair peeking out around the leg hole.

My erection jumped to life, and my penis was fully inflated again. “You know,” the doctor said to Trish, “I’m not really setup to do that kind of test, but I have a colleague that can do some tests if we had a sperm sample. Would you be interested in that?”

“I think I would like that.” Trish nodded and closed her legs so as not to get caught with her part in the farce. Shifting her attention to me, the doctor said, “Now, since you are fully erect way don’t you masturbate, and I’ll catch the sample when you ejaculate.”

I really wanted to jack off but felt weird doing it with the doctor and Trish watching. The doctor must have sensed the conflict because she said, “It’s alright, you have permission to touch yourself. Right, Trish?” She turned to my sister-in-law.

Trish smiled, “It’s alright, Honey. Can you do this for me?”

“I think so,” I replied and shakily reached up and started masturbating with my right hand. Off and on, I tried looking at Trish’s panties, but she had crossed her legs again. I was pumping away for a while when the doctor came alongside and took my left hand. It startled me at first, but she put my thumb in my mouth. I started sucking right away. “For some boys,” she said to Trish, “there is a psycho-sexual connection between masturbating and thumbsucking.”

“Interesting,” Trish said in awe. I looked down and saw that she had opened up her legs again. I suck hard on my thumb and pumped harder with my right hand. I was close to bliss, and I didn’t care how silly I looked. I closed my eyes and released into the waiting dish.

“Good boy,” Trish said encouragingly.

“Hmmm,” said the doctor, “I would have expected a little more volume. Trish, could you get him cleaned up while I take care of this sample? Thanks”

The doctor handed a package of baby wipes to Trish and left the room. Trish loomed over me.

“That wasn’t fair,” I protested.

“You looked,” she retorted and wiped my limp penis and pubic area clean. Trish helped me back into the training pants and the rest of my clothes before the doctor came back.

“Thank you for waiting. I sent the sample to my colleague, but we won’t hear anything back for a couple of weeks. I’d like to go over some of my notes and let you know what I found.” She addressed me first, “Let me reassure you that you are perfectly healthy, and there is nothing to be concerned about…but,” and she turned to Trish, “he does have a short perineum resulting in an abnormally small API or anal position index. A normal male should measure about 54 cm, but he is measuring at 46 cm; that’s closer to the average female length. There is nothing to be alarmed by; it’s not detrimental, but it would explain the small stature of his genitalia.” Trish nodded, trying to look concerned.

The doctor continued, “I noticed when I pushed on his bladder he wet a bit, and that indicates he doesn’t have a strong Pubococcygeus muscle. Incontinence at his age is normally treatable with diet and exercise; however, I noticed that you have already implemented some precautions, which I think is wise. With the physical examination, I also noted that his prostate is slightly enlarged. Again, at his age it isn’t something to be alarmed about, but you need to focus on his diet and maybe look into a prostate massage from time to time to drain the contents. I don’t have that literature here, but it’s readily available. I noticed that his pubic area had been shaved. I’m assuming that was to help keep the area clean due to frequent accidents?”

“Yes, that has been a problem lately,” Trish replied with a half-truth.

“Okay then, I’ll prescribe a depilation cream that will work really well even with his sensitive skin. Do you have any questions?” The doctor had given Trish more than she bargained for, and I think it was more than she could process. She had worked this all up to humiliate me, and it turned out that I did have a medical issue. That somehow made it all worth it.

It was a quarter to noon when we left the doctor’s office, and I was getting hungry. “What time do you need to be back to work?” Trish asked me. “Do we have time to get some lunch?”

“I need to be back by 1 pm, so I guess we have time.”

Trish pulled through the drive-thru and ordered for both of us. We ate at a park not far from my work. My mind was preoccupied with all that had just happened. Was there really something wrong with me? The doctor did say that I had a prostate problem. Was I going to get cancer? What was going to happen to me? I was staring blankly towards the playground equipment.

“I don’t think you have time to play today,” Trish said out of instinct.

“Huh? Oh, I was just thinking about what the doctor said,” I replied

Trish reached over and lightly touched my arm. “I need to tell you something,” she said, looking me in the eyes. “You have to know that my sister loves you more than anything else, even me. I guess that’s why I’ve always disliked you. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve been a jerk. But I just want you to know everything she does is because she loves you.”

I remained silent. I didn’t know what to say or if I should say anything. There had always been a rivalry between us, and I always thought it was because she thought I wasn’t good enough for her sister. “Trish? Can I ask you something?”

“What is it, Honey?”

“What? Honey?” She just smiled. “It’s a term of endearment.” She got up and walked back to the car. Within minutes, I was back at work.

– 23 –

Jessica was talking with Julie when I got back up to my desk. They both fell silent immediately as I approached. Jessica spoke first, “I got to know. Please tell me because it is killing me. Don’t lie or make something up, alright.” Her words seemed to bubble out of her. “Did you have a…,” she paused, looked around, and continued in a harsh whisper, “a diaper rash?” Continuing in a normal tone, “because that’s what Julie thought.”

I looked from one to the other blankly. Then I sat down to work, ignoring the question. “I’m sorry,” Julie said from somewhere behind me, “I’m really sorry.”

“What?” Jessica implored, “You wanted to know, so I asked.” Jessica huffed off feeling betrayed.

I avoided contact with everyone the rest of the day. I snuck out a few minutes early to avoid any conversation with my co-workers. It was the weekend, but I still had to explain to my wife what had happened at the doctor’s. I was feeling depressed. I must have had really bad karma because Julie was waiting for me at my car.

“I just wanted to apologize. I am really sorry. Jessica got out of hand and…”

“I have a prostate problem.” I said, looking down at the pavement, “And yes, it was diaper rash. The doctor says I have some other issues, so if you would just let me go home, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’m…”

“I know,” I interrupted, “please let me go home.”

Then she hugged me. That was the breaking point. All the emotions, all the problems, all the changes that had been happening to me, I broke down and cried.

Soothingly she said, “It’s all right. It will all workout. Shhhh now. Don’t worry.” Finally I composed myself and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s not that bad, and everything will work out. It’s not like I’m dying; I just have a few problems.”

“If there is anything I can do to help, let me know, and I’m sure Jessica feels the same. I hope you have a good weekend.” She took a few steps, then turned back. “You’re going to want to go straight home.” She smiled kindly and pointed to my crotch. I looked down and saw a wet spot on the front of my pants. With the emotional release, I had another release too.

At home, I found my wife and her sister sitting at the kitchen table talking. When my wife saw me, she jumped up and gave me a big hug. “I am so relieved to hear that you’re healthy. I was also glad to hear that you didn’t give Trish any problems.” I shot a glance at Trish, but she didn’t react.

“Sis, I think he needs to get changed before dinner,” Trish said, noting the spot on my crotch. Just then the oven started beeping. “Oh, that’s my roast,” my wife exclaimed. “Trish, could you help him out, please?” When we were out of earshot of the kitchen, Trish said, “I didn’t tell her everything. In fact, I didn’t tell her much. She wanted to wait until we had dinner to talk about it. She just wanted to know if you were healthy.”

“Why didn’t you tell her that you gave me a spanking?”

“No point. You misbehaved and got punished. Seems to me it’s over.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully.

“Don’t think for a moment that I wouldn’t hesitate to spank you again if there was a need. Now come on and let’s get you changed.”

“I wondered,” my wife said from behind us. We both jumped from the surprise. She had quietly come up behind us and heard our conversation. Looking at me, she said sternly, “Did you learn your lesson?” I nodded quickly. Then, to her sister, “I want to hear the details to see if I need to take action as well.” Trish shrugged.

“The roast isn’t quite done, so I’ll take it from here, Trish.” I couldn’t tell if my wife was mad or not, but I knew that I was in for another spanking. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I got upset because I didn’t realize the appointment was with a pediatric doctor.”

“That’s all?”

“I guess I was a little disruptive.”

“Seems odd to get a spanking for that.”

“And I stuck my tongue out at her.”

My wife laughed as she undid my pants and I stepped out of them. “That would do it,” she said, shaking her head. Before taking off my training pants, she said, “Looks like you’ve been peeing in these all day. I can tell by the rings of dried pee. I guess your big accident was on the way home.” I didn’t want to correct her because I’d have to explain the whole hugging thing with Julie.

“I think it’s best to let you dry out a bit so you don’t get a rash,” my wife said, pulling my shirt over my head. “Let’s see if we can find a longer shirt so you can cover up a bit more.” She poked around my drawers and then in the closet. “Looks like this is the best we can do.” And she handed me an old shirt that covered my crotch if I pulled it down, but if I did that, my butt was exposed. “I can’t go around like this with your sister here,” I exclaimed.

“It could be worse,” she said.

“How could it be worse than me walking around bottomless in front of Trish?”

“I could put you in a dress.” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or not.

We rejoined Trish in the kitchen, and I did my best to cover myself up. Trish did her part by making fun of me. My wife found it funny. “A bit breezy there, Honey,” Trish teased.

I sat down at my spot, but my wife put food on my plate and cut up my meat. She also gave me a sippy cup with dinner. The only saving grace with the humiliation was that the cup was filled with beer. My wife turned to Trish and asked, “Why don’t you tell me how the doctor’s visit went?”

I interjected, “Well, the doctor said…” My wife put up her hand, “You need to be quiet and eat while Trish talks.” This brought a smile to Trish’s face.

“Well, the doctor said,” she began fully empowered, “that he is relatively healthy but there are a few problems.” She went on to explain that my wetting was because I had weak muscles and that the doctor was able to make me wet by pressing on my stomach. Trish tried to explain the measurement thing, but my wife didn’t seem to get it until Trish said, “He’s more like a girl than a boy.” My wife looked over at me but seemed to be still talking to her sister, “So is that why his penis is small?”

I decided that I wanted to get drunk. I finished my beer and got up to get another. My wife and her sister both giggled as I tried to keep myself covered under the watchful eye. I filled my sippy cup and sat back down. As I quietly ate my food, Trish continued, “The doctor also said that he has an enlarged prostate. Isn’t a problem now, but you want to make sure to drain it from time to time.” I was quickly finishing my second beer when my wife asked me to stand by her. “Sweetie, please come here.” I finished the second beer and headed for the fridge for my third. Her hand connected with my ass completely. “Please come here,” she said firmly. I stood beside her and pulled my shirt down in the front. My ass was still stinging from the little correction I just received. “Trish? How did the doctor know his prostate was enlarged?”

“Well, I guess it was when she rubbed his perineum,” Trish replied, eager to see what her sister was up to.

“Sweetie, can you please lift your shirt a bit?”

I was two beers into a good buzz, and this was killing it. I complied and lifted the hem of my shirt, exposing my penis to both my wife and her sister. My wife snaked her finger under my balls and rubbed the spot where the doctor had hours before. “I see what she meant,” my wife said. Although I was humiliated, her touch brought my penis to life, and I started to get hard. Trish laughed and said, “He did this at the doctor’s office too.” My wife looked up at me with a grin

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Trish got up and guided my left thumb to my mouth as the doctor did before. “He’s got this psychosexual connection between thumb-sucking and masturbation.” I stood there sucking my thumb for a moment until my wife said, “Ahh… he looks kind of cute like that.” I came back to reality and pulled my thumb out of my mouth. Pulling the shirt back down, I got myself another beer. I was determined to find my happy place.

My wife got up and poured herself and her sister a glass of wine. Returning to the table, she said, “Ok sister of mine, I want to hear what happened that got him a spanking.” I was trying to get as much alcohol in my system, hoping that would take the sting out of the impending punishment.

“Well, Sis,” Trish started with a devilish grin on her face, “After I got him checked in and we were waiting to be called back, he started to get loud. I tried to quiet him down, but then he stood up and stuck his tongue out at me. I tried my best to remain calm and handle the situation without causing a scene. I asked the nurse if we could wait in an examination room. I’m sure they didn’t want problems in their waiting room either.” Her recollection of the events seemed quite different from mine, but I wasn’t about to interrupt to call her a liar. She continued, “While in the exam room, I decided that we needed to deal with this before the doctor arrived so that he wouldn’t cause a scene for the doctor. When he asked me to take him to the potty…”

My wife looked at me. “You asked her to take you to the potty?” She was almost laughing at that point. I hung my head. “Did you make it in time?”

“Yes, he did, but just barely. Since his pants were down already, I decided that was the best time to address his attitude.”

“I said sorry before that, ” I added pleadingly.

“That’s true,” Trish acknowledged, “and that’s why I only gave you five swats. And we didn’t have problems for the rest of the visit anymore”

“Well, sounds like you were able to handle the situation appropriately.” My wife said to her sister, “But…” she continued, “You did lie to me about it at first.”

“I was trying to help him out. He’d had a rough morning.” Trish retorted.

“But you still lied to me.” My wife was insistent.

“Okay. I did leave out that part. What are you going to do? Spank me for it?” Trish said in a mocking tone. My wife pushed her chair away from the table and patted her knees.

Trish laughed, “You don’t have it in you to spank me.” My wife just patted her knees again and raised her eyebrows. “Don’t I?” she replied

“Fine, I’ll play along.” Trish got up and lay across my wife’s lap to accept her spanking. Looking at me, she asked, “How many swats for a lying?” I wasn’t about to answer.

My wife went on, not waiting for a response from me, “How about five? That seems to be a popular number these days.” My wife didn’t seem mad, but she did glint her eye.

Trish was lying across my wife’s lap facing away from me, so I had a view of her butt waiting for the spanking to commence. She was playing the part by squirming around and pretending to fuss. I was a bit disappointed that all my spankings were on my bare ass while Trish was allowed to get her spanking over her skirt.

My wife drew back and administered the first swat. “Now, lying is a bad thing and will lead to a bad character.” Her lecture began in a playful tone. Her next swat landed. “Especially to adults. That is very naughty.” I was starting to feel cheated. When I got into trouble, my butt ended up sore, but it seemed like just a game to them. Well, at least it wasn’t me this time.

“So that you really remember this lesson, ” my wife began, “I think I need to raise your skirt and smack your bottom.” I couldn’t believe my ears. I quickly finished my beer and hurried to get the next one. My wife watched with amusement but waited for me to return before proceeding.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Trish in a serious tone. “I played along when it was over the clothes, but…” and she tried to get up. My wife is surprisingly strong and managed to keep her sister in place.

“Oh yes, dear sister,” my wife’s tone had gone serious as well. “You lied to me about spanking him. And you tried to hide it from me. I had to eavesdrop to get the truth.” Trish gave up her struggle and said, “I guess you’re right, but at least send him out of the room.”

“No, I want him to stay and see what happens when you lie.” My wife drew up her sister’s skirt, exposing her panties. I had seen them earlier but from a completely different angle. The memory of that, and the event I was now witnessing, were eliciting a notable response in me. As I watched my wife rub her sister’s pantied ass, I was getting tremendously hard.

SMACK. My wife landed her first swat, and Trish’s bottom turned pink.

“Ouch!” Trish responded. My wife pulled back a second time and hesitated. Trish looked back over her shoulder, looking worried. “Come on, just get it over with.” My wife smiled slightly and lowered her hand. Trish’s whole butt shook with the impact.

Without thinking, my thumb made its way to my mouth. My wife smiled at me. “Now,” she said, resuming her lecture, “If I am ever going to trust you again to watch over him, I have to know that you have learned your lesson.”

“Oh, I have,” pleaded Trish, “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Well, I think I should just pull these panties down and spank your bare bottom.”

“Please no. I won’t lie to you ever again. Please don’t pull my panties off.”

But it was no use. My wife slowly pulled her sister’s pantied down, exposing her red butt to the cool air and to my view. My wife looked at me again and smiled. I couldn’t help looking at Trish’s naked ass, and from the angle she was across my wife’s lap I could see her ‘private’ parts. I couldn’t help it, my hand went for my cock, and I started masturbating. I felt so dirty, but there I was sucking my thumb and masturbating while watching my wife spank her bare assed sister.

My wife quickly administered the last of the punishment, and Trish popped up and rubbed her butt. Before Trish could turn her attention to me, my wife told her to stand in the corner with her face to the wall, holding her skirt held up to her waist and her panties at her knees. Coming over to me, she lightly smacked the hand I had on my penis. I quickly let go and started to take my thumb out of my mouth. “No, you can leave that in.” And I did. It wasn’t a good substitute for cumming, but it still felt good. I was still pretty keyed up from what just happened, and I guess my wife didn’t want Trish to see my reaction because it wasn’t until after my erection subsided that she let Trish out of the corner.

I was still sucking my thumb when Trish turned around; she glared at me. She quickly got all her clothing in place and downed the glass of wine. The look on her face indicated that I might be in for some retribution for the humiliation she had to endure. My astute wife said as she poured more wine for her sister, “Now Trish, this was all your own doing. Behave better next time.”

I was finishing my third beer and feeling pretty good. My wife and her sister were chatting again, and like they were friends again. They weren’t including me in their conversation, so I decided to wander off. At that point, I didn’t pull my t-shirt down to cover myself. I got up and milled around the kitchen, finally ending at the fridge to get another beer. I could tell Trish was watching me as I moved around the room, so I decided to give her a little show. I’d pull at my penis from time to time, grab at my balls, and once I bent over to expose my butt. There was a bit of shame on her face from watching. Trish finally said to my wife, “Can you get some clothes on that boy?”

“Is he not behaving?” My wife asked rhetorically, “Sweetie, come with me.”

We went to our bedroom, where she pulled out a skirt. “Since you are messing around so much, you’re going to have to wear this. It’s called a gypsy skirt, and it should be comfortable for you.” And, expecting that I was now wearing girls’ clothes, it was comfortable. “Why don’t you find something to watch and we’ll join you in a little bit.” She patted me on my butt, and I was on my way. I didn’t much feel like watching TV, so I just walked around the house. The feel of the skirt swishing against my legs was a new sensation. I could feel it rubbing against my dick, but the alcohol in my system prevented me from getting an erection. I remembered that my beer was still sitting on the kitchen counter, so I meandered that way. The moment I entered the kitchen, Trish started to laugh. “Cute skirt, Honey.”

I looked at my wife for support. “It is cute on you,” she said, joining her sister’s teasing. “Maybe you should wear it more often.”

“I could bring over some of my girl’s old things, and maybe you could see if some of it fits.” Trish was on a roll. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I asked her nicely.”

I just got my beer and left.

“Sweetie? Could you get the diaper bag for me?” my wife asked. “That’s your fourth beer, and I’d like to get a diaper on you before we have a mess to clean up.” I paused briefly, then went to look for the diaper bag. As I walked around looking for it, I became increasingly aware that I needed to pee. I searched harder. I couldn’t seem to find it anywhere. Desperate, I went back to the kitchen to find the two of them laughing. “I have to go potty really bad,” I whined. “And I can’t find the diaper bag anywhere.”

Trish started to laugh harder, and my wife said, “Sweetie, it was right by your chair. You were in such a hurry to leave you didn’t look in here. I felt embarrassed that I had overlooked such an obvious place, but I really needed to pee. “Can you take me to the potty?” I pleaded

Trish slowly stopped laughing and said, “I’ll take you if you like.” She stood up and took my hand. In just a few steps, I knew we wouldn’t make it. “I’m going to pee my skirt; I’ll never make it.” This wasn’t my finest hour. “You sure?” Trish stopped.

“I can’t hold it,” I cried.

I didn’t know Trish could move that fast. She grabbed a diaper from the diaper bag, opened it up, and thrust it up under my skirt, cupping it around my penis. As soon as I felt the diaper, I released. She held the diaper in place until I was finished. “That felt like you were peeing on my hand,” she said with disgust.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, “but thank you for doing that.” She softened and said, “Lie down, and we’ll get you cleaned up. My wife brought the diaper bag over and watched as her sister wiped down my crotch and diapered me.

“Well, what was a bit of excitement,” my wife said when I was all done. I was getting drowsy, so I told them I was going to bed. “Why don’t you sit with us a little while longer on the couch?” my wife insisted. “I’ll get your drink, and we can sit and talk some more.”

Trish and I sat down on the couch, and my wife retrieved drinks from the kitchen. She returned with two glasses of wine for her and her sister and a baby bottle for me. I sighed, resigned to having to drink from the bottle. The two women sat on the ends, forcing me to sit between them. The couch was big and comfortable. I was able to lie on my wife’s lap and stretch out a bit while she fed me my bottle. I was really tired, so I soon fell fast asleep.

– 24 –

I woke up slightly when my wife slid out from underneath me. I watched as my wife and her sister went off to our bedroom. After they were safely out of sight, I reached into my diaper and started to jack off. I wanted to finish what I started before. With my thumb in my mouth and pumping away, I was soon close to cumming. I heard an odd sound from the bedroom. I tried to ignore it, but it happened again. I stopped masturbating, thinking they were coming back. After a moment, I decided to investigate. I opened the door just a crack, only to see both my wife and her sister completely naked on the bed. My wife was on her back, and Trish was on top in between her legs, pumping away. Trish was wearing a strapon, and my wife was biting down on a pillow, trying not to make a sound. The sound that I heard was Trish hitting up against my wife’s thighs.

I didn’t know what to do. I was mesmerized and confused. I found myself sucking my thumb and jerking off as I watched. I was soon cumming all over my hand. I stumbled back and sat on the floor. I must have nudged the door because it swung all the way open. My wife cried out in ecstasy even as she saw me sitting, sucking my thumb. Trish pulled out and closed the door. Soon, my wife and Trish reappeared in bathrobes.

“Sweetie, we need to talk…”

– 24 –

“Sweetie, you need to wake up.” My wife was gently shaking me. “It’s time to go to bed. Trish, can you help me here?” My sister-in-law pulled on my arms, trying to get me to stand up. I opened my eyes, trying to make sense of what was going on.

“What happened to the bathrobes? Why are we all still on the couch?” I muttered.

“What are you talking about, Sweetie?” my wife asked.

I was trying to focus on Trish’s face, but the room was spinning. “You were…” I tried to speak, but my words were slurring.

“He’s not looking too good, Sis. I think we need to get him to the bathroom.” Trish said, sounding worried. They pulled me off the couch and dragged me to the bathroom. I wasn’t feeling good, and it was a good thing they got me to the bathroom. My stomach cramped and I started puking.

Slouching back against the wall, my head cleared enough to start processing the situation. Normally I could take my liquor better than this, but something was changing. My motor skills were still lacking, so my wife and her sister stripped the shirt and skirt off of me. “Looks like his bladder is empty as well. That diaper must weigh a ton.” Trish noted.

“Why don’t you get me another one and I’ll move him to the bed?” My wife helped me get to my feet and guided me to the bed. Although I was lying there naked and exposed, I didn’t feel any shame from my sister-in-law seeing me like this. She returned with the diaper bag and started chatting with my wife like this was totally normal.

My wife slid a diaper under me, but before closing it up, she pushed my legs up towards my head so that my knees were against my chest, exposing my ass hole. “So Trish, what were you telling me about before?” She asked her sister.

I could feel Trish’s finger tracing my perineum as she explained, “You see, Sis. The doctor said that his anus and balls should be farther apart.” She was lightly running her finger from the base of my balls to the edge of my ass hole. If I weren’t so drunk, I would have been hard as rock.

“And we need to do something about his prostate?” My wife asked.

“Yes,” she responded too quickly. “The doctor said that his prostate needs drained.”

“I think I might have done that before by accident,” my wife confessed.

“Well,” Trish said breathlessly. “Maybe you should try again right now.”

I was still feeling out of it, like I was observing a conversation but didn’t realize it was about me. In that position, with my knees pressed against my chest, I couldn’t see what was going on, but I could feel a finger gently circling my sphincter. Another finger was lightly rubbing my perineum.

“Maybe you’re right,” said my wife, “but think he’ll need a little bit of lubrication. There’s some in the bathroom cabinet.”

I soon felt something cool, then pressure on my hole as a finger was inserted and withdrawn. Although my penis wasn’t reacting, I still was feeling turned on by all this. Trish sat down beside me on the bed. I could see her watching what my wife was doing and could tell her breathing was getting shallow. Her hand brushed against her breast and her nipple reacted. She looked like she was really getting turned on by all this. I soon could feel pressure from inside me like I had to pee but slightly different.

I had felt this before, the last time my wife had done this to me; but this time I was in a completely different position. I looked up at my dick and could see the sticky fluid slowly leak from the head of my penis. Trish reached over and slowly tugged on my cock like she was milking the contents of my prostate out of me. Staring up at my dripping, flaccid penis, I realized I was totally at the mercy of these two women. As the fluid was being milked from my dick, it dripped down my belly and pooled on my chest.

“Sis, I think he’s just about empty,” Trish said, giving my little member a few more pulls. I could feel my wife ease her finger out of my hole and release me from my exposed position. I lay there naked, exhausted and drained. My limp dick seemed tiny even to me, and at that point I didn’t care about anything but sleep, and that’s what I did: sleep.

When I woke up, my head hurt from the hangover; I was wearing one of my wife’s old nightgowns, and my ears hurt for some unknown reason. I dragged myself out of bed and went looking for my wife. “Morning,” she groaned at me when I found her in the bathroom. She was leaning over the sink washing her face, but it looked like she wasn’t happy about it. She looked up at me and winced.

“I’m really sorry. I mean it.” She came over and hugged me.

“Huh? What?” I was confused. “What are you sorry about?”

“Well,” She seemed like she had a hangover too.

“After you passed out, Trish and I got a little drunk.”

“So? I think I drank too much myself. Nothing to be sorry about there.”

“Well… we got a little crazy and pierced your ears. I’m really, really sorry.”

“WHAT!?” I panicked as I looked in the mirror. That explained the pain I was feeling. Both my ears had small diamond studs. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I immediately started to pull them out.

“Don’t,” my wife said, pulling my hands away. “If you pull them out now, you’ll run a greater risk of getting an infection. Best just to leave them in for a couple of days. We’ll take them out Sunday night.”

“But I’ll have holes.” I pleaded.

“Don’t be silly. The holes will close fast once the studs are out and no one will ever know. And,” she continued, “they do look kind of cute.”

I looked at myself again in the mirror. Still, before I could say anything more my wife pulled me over to the toilet but before she sat me down she said, “Now you gather up the nightie from the bottom like this,” she reached down and started pulling up the nightgown gathering it up to my waist, “then you need to pull down your panties, but in this case your diaper, “and she pulled down my diaper, “then you can sit down.”

I sat down, confused about why she was instructing me on such things. “What’s this about?” I asked, looking up at her.

“Well,” she said, retrieving a clean pair of training pants, I think we’ll keep you in a skirt today so it will be easier to get you on the potty.”

I sat there, but since my bladder was empty, I couldn’t pee. Finally, I stood up, pulled the training pants back into place, and let the nightgown fall back into place.

My wife moved me aside and said, “You might not need to go, but I do.” With expert speed and skill, she performed the same task she just helped me with. I just stood there looking at her.

“No, no, little boy. No peeking. Put your nose in the corner until I’m done.” As I complied, I had a flashback to when Trish did the same to me. I could hear my wife relieving herself behind my back, and for some strange reason I was getting really turned on. Without thinking, my thumb found my mouth. I was glad that I was wearing the nightgown because my erection was hidden. She was just pulling up her panties when I turned around early, hoping to get a peek.

“Naughty boy trying to peek at girls peeing. But I guess that’s what to be expected. Come here,” she said playfully. She lifted the nightgown and noticed the erection in my training pants. She quickly pulled them down, exposing my little boner. “Did that turn you on?” she grasped the tip of my penis. “Did you get hard listening to me pee?” She started to slowly stroke my cock.

I was horny and couldn’t think straight. “Uh hu…” I mumbled with my thumb still in my mouth. That made her smile.

“I’ll make you a deal. If you can stay dry all day today, maybe we can have some fun tonight. Deal?”

What was I going to say? “Deal!”

“Well, then. Let’s get you dressed and start our day.” My wife quickly pulled up my training pants and led me to the bedroom. She helped me put the gypsy skirt back on and found an oversize shirt to wear on top. With my pierced ears, the outfit made me look like a tomboy. My wife slid on her usual sweats and t-shirt, which she wore most weekends.

After breakfast, my wife had me help her with normal chores around the house. We did some cleaning and dusting, washed dishes, and I even helped with the laundry. She kept me well hydrated, and every so often she would lead me off to the bathroom to pee. I’d go first, then she would go, each time with me facing the wall.

By lunchtime, I was getting quite skilled at flipping my skirt up, pulling down my training pants, and peeing while sitting down. I could tell that this pleased my wife. After lunch, Trish came by with some hand-me-downs from her daughter. Surprisingly, most of the clothes fit me quite well; some even had the tags still on.

After my wife explained all the chores we had accomplished that morning, her sister said, “If the dress fits, wear it.” I didn’t get what she was talking about. The afternoon was filled with the two sisters chatting while I was given small tasks. I was mostly given instructions but not really allowed to join the conversation. I was still encouraged to drink frequently, but with the distraction of her sister, my wife didn’t take me to the bathroom.

I was becoming desperate, but my wife didn’t seem to take the subtle hints that I needed to be taken to the potty. Finally, I had to resort to tugging on her shirt.

“Sweetie, I’m talking. Can you please wait until I’m done?” she scolded. By this time, I was holding my penis through the skirt and shifting my weight from side to side.

“Sis?” Trish said, pointing at me. “Maybe she needs to go potty.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Sweetie. Let’s hurry to the bathroom before you have an accident.” And my wife quickly led me off. Trish followed, still chatting, but laughed when she witnessed my new skill.

“She seems to be a quick learner.”

“Don’t tease,” my wife said. “It’s only been a day. I made a deal with her. If she stays dry all day, tonight we’ll have some fun.” My wife turned to me and winked. It took me a moment, but I realized they were referring to me as a female.

“I’m not a girl,” I said quietly, but the two women just ignored me. When I finished, I took my place with my face to the wall; this drew another laugh from Trish.

“Sweetie, I don’t have to go this time; you don’t have to face the wall.” My wife took my hand.

“But I do,” said Trish, and before I could face the wall again, she had flipped up her skirt and sat down to pee. I couldn’t believe that I was standing there watching her pee on the potty, her skirt draped across her lap and her panties at her knees. I could hear the pee flowing out of her; my heart was almost beating out of my chest. My wife was as astonished as I was.

“Trish!”

“What? No one in here but us girls, right, Honey?” Trish said teasingly to me.

I looked at my wife, then back at Trish. I didn’t know what the right answer was. Before I knew it, my wife was pulling me out of the bathroom.

“We may have to come up with something different,” she muttered under her breath.

When Trish joined us, she had a smug look on her face. I was asked to gather up all the trash from the waste bins in the house while the two sisters talked about what just happened. I tried to complete the task as quickly as possible, but I must have missed the talking part of the talk because when I got done, Trish was standing facing in the corner with her skirt up, panties at her knees, and distinct handprints on her butt.

“Sweetie, come over here.” My wife beckoned me to stand in front of her. “What Trish did was naughty, and she got a spanking for it. When someone is naughty the need to be punished.” My wife pulled me across her lap and exposed my butt. “You should have turned around, but you didn’t, so you were naughty too.” My wife gave me three quick, hard swats and stood me back up.

“Now go and stand next to Trish.”

What a sight that must have been, the two of us standing with our faces to the wall exposing our spanked bottoms. After my wife left the room, Trish must have had enough because she pulled up her panties and left. I obediently waited for my wife to come back and release me from my punishment.

The rest of the evening went by without further incident. As bedtime drew close, I reminded my wife that I had stayed dry all day. “I know, Sweetie. I know,” she said with a wink. She disappeared into the bathroom for quite a while. I lay on the bed, thinking about the various things my wife could do as a reward for my good behavior. She emerged completely naked. This was something I had not anticipated. I noticed that she had stopped trimming her pubic hair, and it was growing back thicker than before. Without saying a word, she helped me out of my clothes and positioned me on my back.

Lying on her side beside me, she lightly ran her hand over my chest and stomach. She circled my chest several times and then moved down to my pelvic area, but intentionally avoided touching my genitals. I was in sensory overload. She then focused all her attention on my nipples, lightly touching them, then gently pinching. My penis was so hard that it hurt; a thin line of precum was leaking out of it. “You look so cute sucking your thumb like that.” She whispered as I became aware that I was sucking my thumb. She leaned in and started sucking on my right nipple while stroking my left one. I could feel her teeth pulling at the tip awhile sucking strongly. I knew she was enjoying this too because I could feel her hard nipples pressing into my side.

Just before I passed out from pleasure, she stopped and climbed on top of me with her back towards my head and her butt pressing down on my face. She leaned forward so her face was inches from my cock. I could feel her breath on my balls. She situated herself so that I could please her orally. I reached up and spread her butt cheeks. From there I could see her damp vagina that was now covered with mature pubic hair. I got to work on licking and sucking, giving it my all to bring her to orgasm. My wife hadn’t yet touched my dick, but instinctively I began to thrust my hips. My face was getting saturated with her juices as she came closer and closer to cumming. Finally, she pressed hard against my face, and I knew she had arrived.

At last she took hold of my balls. Without touching my shaft, she slowly but gently started jacking my balls. It wasn’t the best sensation and caused my erection to weaken. When my erection was down enough, she situated herself again. This time her pussy was more on my chest. She reached back and held her ass cheeks apart, exposing her anus to me. I paused. Sensing my hesitation, she pushed back so that my lips touched her asshole.

I pushed my tongue past my lips and lightly touched her sphincter. Her body quivered at the contact. I traced my tongue around her tight hole. I replaced her hands with mine, holding back her cheeks. With her hands free, she returned to my genitals. Now completely taking my penis in her mouth, she continued the ball jerking motion. The combination of feelings was incredible, and I completely forgot that I was licking her ass. She could sense if I was getting too close and would respond by releasing my cock and just pulling on my balls.

With my spit as lubricant, I decided to make a bold move. I pressed the tip of my index finger against her hole. She responded by pulling a bit harder on my balls. In an act of sheer kink and maybe defiance, I pressed my finger in more. She pulled harder on my balls. My fingertip was just inside, and my sack was feeling a bit sore, but I decided to go for broke. I pressed on. She leaned back, resulting in my finger going all the way in. I heard a gasp come from her but couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain. She had released my balls and seemed to be focused on my intruding digit. She rocked slightly, and then I felt her muscles contract against my finger, like she was trying to push it out. I eased my finger out as she rolled off me.

“I guess it’s only fair,” she said, handing me a baby wipe to clean off my finger. “I stuck my finger in your bum, and you’ve stuck yours in mine.” She sat cross-legged beside me on the bed, looking me over. I wasn’t hard anymore, but I desperately wanted to have a sexual release.

I reached down and started stroking my penis. She watched while my member became hard again. She didn’t interrupt but guided my thumb to my mouth. I took this as approval and started masturbating in earnest. As I brought myself closer to release, she just sat there patiently watching like I was performing some kind of normal routine. Just before I came, she put a baby wipe on my belly to catch whatever came out. I twitched, pulled, and was finally done. My wife cleaned me up without a word. She got up, put on a nightie, and then went to get something for me to wear.

I was lying there naked and still feeling a bit naughty. She returned with a feminine pair of pajamas and a diaper. She pulled the top over my head and slid the diaper under my bottom, but before she could close it up, I started to pee. I peed all over her, the bed, the pajamas, and myself. I knew instantly that was the wrong idea. I guess poking her in the derriere then peeing on her was more than she could take. Leaving me wet and half-dressed, she went to her nightstand and brought back her wooden hairbrush. I was over her knee getting my ass beat before I knew what was happening. If my wife had set fire to my ass, I’m not sure if I would have known the difference. I soon began to cry and beg for forgiveness. The spanking subsided, and she held me for a while. I know it’s weird, but I felt completely connected to her afterward.

“You did so well today staying dry, but you blew it right at the last. Tomorrow I think I’ll just keep you in diapers. Now let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

– 26 –

My ass was still a bit sore when I woke up the next morning. I lay there for a moment trying hard not to think about anything. I felt that I was changing into someone else, but I didn’t want to think about what was going on. I looked down at my wet diaper and realized that I didn’t remember needing to go to the bathroom. The diaper was heavy, so I must have wet myself a lot in my sleep. To avoid getting another rash, I took my diaper off and lay there naked. The sensation of cool air on my crotch felt soothing.

“Glad to see you awake,” my wife said as she came into the bedroom. “Looks like you started getting changed without me.” She came over and wiped down my pubic area with a baby wipe. Even with her gentle touch, my penis had no reaction; I remained flaccid. “Maybe I’ll let you air out for a few minutes before putting a new diaper on, but you better not pee anywhere.” I remained in bed naked for a few more minutes.

She pulled out a light t-shirt and some sweatpants and told me to get out of bed. I raised my arms as she pulled the shirt over my head. She laid out a diaper on the floor and motioned for me to lie down. She had a washcloth and a tube of cream. “I got the prescription for the cream the doctor recommended. This may burn a little, but I’ll wipe it off if it gets too bad.”

She proceeded to cover my whole pubic area with the thick cream. Again, my dick remained soft. I had an awkward sense that I should be aroused, but it just wasn’t happening. The cream soon began to work, and it felt like a smoldering fire had been laid down in my lap. The chemicals were killing the hair follicles at the root.

“I know it’s uncomfortable, but you just need to last another minute,” my wife said. “Can you do that for me?”

I nodded and tried to fight back tears. She soon began wiping the cream off and with it any trace of pubic hair. The result was incredible; I was completely smooth. My limp cock seemed so immature lying there.

I looked at my wife, “Is it alright?” I wasn’t sure quite what I was asking.

“Yes, Sweetie,” she said kindly. She lightly touched my lifeless member, “It’s alright.”

After getting me dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, she explained that we would be working in the garden today. I really enjoyed the time we spent working together the day before, and even though gardening wasn’t one of my favorite things, I was looking forward to doing it with her. She had a sippy cup of juice ready for me as we went out to work in the backyard.

I wasn’t much help. Seem like I was interfering more than helping. So finally, she had me just sit there and drink my juice. I watched her bending over pulling weeds, digging in the dirt, and various other tasks. By the way that her breasts moved underneath her shirt, I realized that she hadn’t put on a bra. I became fixated on watching her body. As I watched, I became aroused. Now and then she’d look over and smile sweetly or say a few things. But it seemed like she just wanted me out there with her, and I was fine with that.

I must have been taking out my sexual frustrations on the sippy cup because my wife came over and took it from me. “You can always suck on your thumb if you need to.” Immediately, my thumb found its way to my mouth, and I started sucking voraciously. As she continued to garden, I sucked on my thumb as an erection grew in my pants. My hard cock pressed against the diaper and strained for attention. It seemed that the more I sucked my thumb, the hornier I got. My wife’s body moved gracefully around the garden, teasing me with her mature form. I started rocking slightly so that my dick could rub against the walls of its prison.

“Sweetie?” I froze as she spoke to me, “You alright?” How could I explain my arousal to her? Then before I could answer, a knowing smile came across her face. She walked over to me, took my free hand, and guided it into my diaper. With this approval, I started jacking off like it was an Olympic sport and I was going for the gold. She stood over me watching while I quickly brought myself relief.

It didn’t take long before I was exploding in my diaper. A wave of shame came over me, and I looked up at her. She looked at me with a warm smile and asked,

“All done?”

I lay back, hand still in my diaper, and watched her go back to gardening. That was one of the most mind-blowing orgasms I had had in a while. A deep calm flowed over me. My wife stood over me.

“You sure are a horny little monkey,” my wife said, looking down at me. “Come on, let’s go.”

After a moment, I got up and followed her inside. I hadn’t peed all morning and decided that I might be getting dehydrated. I downed the rest of my juice and went looking for my wife. I found her looking through some boxes in the spare room.

“Umm…” I started hoping to get her attention. “I don’t need to go potty.”

“Okay, Sweetie. You’re wearing a diaper if you do.” She said, distracted.

“I mean, I haven’t needed to go potty all day,” I said, concerned. She looked up at me and gave me a warm smile. “Come sit here a moment,” she said, patting the floor in front of her. “There’s a couple of things I’d like to talk to you about.”

I sat down obediently, but I was worried about what was on her mind. “Let’s start by taking those earrings out.” I had almost forgotten about those. “It doesn’t look like you’ve had your ears pierced, so don’t worry too much. If you get teased or bullied at work, you let me know, and I’ll take care of it. Now there is another thing I need to talk to you about.”

Her serious tone made my stomach sink. I looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. “Sweetie, the last few days I’ve noticed something, and I think you’ve noticed it too…”

“I know,” I blurted out, interrupting her. “I have a small dick, I can’t seem to stop peeing myself, and I seem to be masturbating a lot lately.” I continued with tears streaking down my cheeks, “Please don’t leave me. I love you! I need you.”

Aside from the loud pounding of my heart, there wasn’t a sound. Finally, I looked up at her. She was smirking, then she started a soft laugh that grew. I thought she was laughing at me until she pulled me close.

“Sweetie. I know you have a tiny penis, and I’m okay with that. You have been wetting yourself, but that’s why we have you in diapers. And yes, you’ve been playing with yourself more lately, but I think it’s kind of cute. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve been having the last couple of weeks. I feel like you are really letting me take care of you. I don’t want to leave you; I love you.”

“But,” said with a tone of concern. “There is something that I have noticed that I’m a little worried about. When was the last time you went poo-poo?”

I thought about it for a moment but couldn’t remember. “I’m worried that you may be constipated, and that’s not a good thing. Starting today, I’m going to change your diet, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll have to try something else.”

“What do you mean by change my diet?” I asked

“You will need to get more veggies and fiber and less meat. I also think you need to be drinking more juice and no alcohol.”

I was both relieved and confused. I wasn’t too sure about this new diet, but I wasn’t too keen on finding out what the ‘something else’ might be. Not too long after, we were heading for the kitchen for lunch.

She made herself a salad, but for me she pulled out some jars of pureed vegetables. She hummed lightly to herself, not making conversation with me. I sat quietly at the table waiting for her to join me. My mind didn’t seem to be processing anything at that point, but when my wife started feeding me scoops of food, I realized she was feeding me.

I hesitated as another spoonful headed for my mouth. “What the matter, Sweetie?”

“It’s just that… this is,” I felt ashamed even to speak.

“Soft food?” She finished my sentence

I looked at the table and said quietly, “Why do I have to eat this kind of food?”

“It has lots and lots of nutrients, and it will help with your constipation. And besides,” she said, touching her breast. “It’s not like I can feed you otherwise.”

She finished feeding me lunch to me, but I couldn’t help thinking about her breasts. For some reason, I was totally fixated on her breasts and couldn’t take my eyes off them. My wife finished her lunch too and couldn’t help noticing my gaze.

“Sweetie? Are you still hungry?” I nodded, not looking up at her. Then she did something I never would have expected; she lifted off her shirt, exposing her naked breasts to me. “Would you like to suckle for a bit?”

I could hardly breath. She reached over and pulled me to my knees so that I was kneeling between her legs, eye level with the objects of my devotion. She cupped her left breast in her hand and pulled my head closer while guiding her nipple into my mouth. “Gently,” she whispered. After a moment, my breathing went back to normal, and I gently sucked on her nipple. It wasn’t like I was really nursing on her breast, but it was calming nonetheless. She reached down to check my diaper, and her fingers brushed against my penis. Before, when this happened, I would become aroused, but this time I didn’t. My dick remained soft. I think that surprised her as well because she fished around some more, intentionally touching my penis. Getting no reaction, she quit trying. It wasn’t long after she broke the seal of my mouth around her nipple and got her shirt back on. She stood up, handed me my juice, and left the room. I sat on the floor for a moment thinking about what just happened.

My hand found its way to my limp dick. As I gently pulled on it, I thought about the things that had transpired. I was mentally aroused, but my body just didn’t seem to be responding. I thought about suckling on my wife’s breasts, her encouraging me to masturbate, the way that she was growing out her pubic hair, and the spankings she had given her sister. It seemed odd to me that I was getting so horny, but my dick just wouldn’t get hard. Frustrated, I just gave up.

I stood up, and, in an act of defiance, ripped my diaper off under my sweatpants. I felt foolish for letting my wife make me wear them. I felt foolish for eating baby food for lunch. I felt foolish for drinking from a sippy cup. At this point, my shame was turning to anger. What had I let myself get pushed into? It was like waking from a dream and realizing it was a nightmare.

– 27 –

My wife had gone back out to work in the yard again, and I was determined to straighten this all out. I saw my wife near our back fence talking to someone. As I approached, they quit talking, and I got an odd look from the neighbor lady.

“Did you spill something on yourself?” She said abruptly, “Because it looks like you pissed yourself”

I looked down as I heard my wife giggle, and to my horror, there was a wet spot on the front of the sweatpants at my crotch. My wife, taking me by the hand, said, “Looks like you need a change.” She led me back to the house, waving bye to our neighbor. Once inside, she asked, “What happened to your diaper? Did you take it off?”

My humiliation defused all my anger. I wanted to speak up, but my wife really didn’t give me a chance. “Well, we need to get you cleaned up now. I really don’t understand you sometimes. What are we going to do about you going to work tomorrow?”

Somehow, I hadn’t thought about work and not controlling my bladder. I panicked. “Maybe I should stay home.” I blurted out.

“What? I have to go to work too. I can’t just take off work to look after you.”

“What am I going to do?” I was feeling overwhelmed.

“Calm down. Let’s deal with first things first. Let’s get you changed, then we can talk about tomorrow. Do you need to pee more? Let’s get you to the potty before putting another diaper on you.”

“No.” I was as shocked as she was by my statement. Time seemed to stand still.

“No? No what? No, you don’t have to pee more?” She looked at me in astonishment.

“No, I’m not going to do this anymore,” I said flatly.

“I’m confused. What are you saying?” She was getting frustrated, and despite my attempt to take a stand, I felt weak. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t weak; I was a man.

“I’m not a man!” I yelled, “I’m a …” That didn’t come out right.

She cocked her head to the side and said, “Is that what this is all about?”

Now it was my turn to be confused. She took a more commanding tone. “You think that I can’t love you because you have problems? You think that to be a man you can’t let me take care of you? Do you think I like being embarrassed in front of our neighbor because you wet your pants?”

All my resolve left me. I hung my head and said, “I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

She hugged me and said, “You need my help. Will you let me help you?”

“Yes,” I said meekly.

“Are you willing to do the things that I ask you?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I think we need to get you changed.”

I followed her to the bedroom where she had me take off my wet sweatpants and put on one of the training pants. They were pink with a bow in the front. They seemed quite feminine, but I wasn’t about to say anything.

“Since you did so well yesterday and forgave the little accident you just had, I think you can wear just a t-shirt and panties for the rest of the day. Please let me know when you need to go potty so we can avoid any issues today. Agreed?” I nodded my head.

“I would like to finish up outside before dinner, so why don’t you keep me company?”

“Like this?” I pleaded, referring to my outfit

“Yes. Why would it be a problem?” she asked.

I hesitated. There was no way to pull the shirt down to cover what I was wearing. “It’s just…” I started to say, “It doesn’t cover my bottom.”

“It’s not like anyone is around to see you, and you won’t go through another set of clothing if you have an accident.” With that, she left the room.

I obediently followed her outside. The next hour was spent glancing over to the fence line, worried that the neighbor would see me. My wife chatted about just about everything, but I was too worried to engage in deep conversation.

My wife finished up her tasks, and we went back inside. I guess my anxiety was burning calories because my stomach was growling.

“Ummm…. I’m still hungry,” I mentioned to my wife.

She looked at me and winked. “I’m not falling for that; maybe I’ll let you play with them at bedtime.” She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I didn’t mean that.” I was feeling flustered. “My stomach is making…” Before I could finish my sentence, a loud noise came from my ass. My wife stopped in her tracks and looked at me wide-eyed.

“Did that just come from you?”

My embarrassment was paramount. I had farted in front of her before, but this was a completely different situation. She came over, rubbed my stomach, and said, “I bet your tummy feels better.” Then it happened again, but this time it felt a bit wet.

“Well,” she said, “looks like the change in diet is helping.” She gave me another kiss and headed for the kitchen.

“But what am I supposed to do?” I called after her.

“Follow me to the kitchen,” she called back.

I hurried to the kitchen, thinking she would change me or something. I found her pouring me more juice and getting some for herself. She offered me the juice, but I just stood there.

“What?” she asked.

“Well?” I pleaded and pointed to my underwear. She sighed and walked around behind me, pulled out the waistband so she could see in.

“All stink and no mess. Now, why don’t you drink your juice, and I’ll make some popcorn. Go and pick out a movie and we’ll relax on the couch for a while.”

She shewed me out of the kitchen. I did as I was told and waited on the couch for her to return.

I found an action film I hadn’t seen in years and started watching it. My wife joined me with a bowl of popcorn and a jar of baby food. She watched with me for a few moments, then turned off the TV.

“That’s kind of violent for you, don’t you think? We need to talk about tomorrow anyway.”

– 31 –

Before I left the house the next morning, my wife handed me two envelopes, one with Julie’s name on it and the other with Jessica’s. Smiling, my wife said, “You are not to open these but to give them to those ladies first thing in the morning. I’ll know if you don’t, so be good and do as you are told.”

Julie wasn’t at her desk when I arrived, so I left it on the seat of her chair. Jessica came looking for me, but before she could speak, I handed her the letter. “What’s this?” she asked hesitantly.

“My wife wanted me to give this to you,” I replied.

“Did you tell her about our conversation?” I nodded, looking at the floor.

“Your wife isn’t dangerous, is she?” She opened the envelope and read quietly. As she did, a big grin came over her face. When she was done, she looked at me.

“Did Julie read her letter yet?”

“No, she wasn’t at her desk.” I had a sinking feeling in my stomach

“I’ve got to talk to Julie. Do you know what is in this letter?”

“Nope. I was told to give it to you without looking, and I did as I was told.”

“Julie isn’t as open-minded as I am, but I’m sure it will work out,” Jessica smiled at me.

I returned to my desk and saw Julie reading her letter. She paused and looked at me like she had seen a ghost. Her phone rang moments later, and I could tell it was Jessica, discussing the contents of the letters. Julie kept her voice low so I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

After she hung up the phone, Julie said to me, “I’m not sure about all this, but Jessica and I will take up your wife’s invitation to lunch.”

I had no idea what my wife might have put in the letters, but an invitation to lunch was inconceivable. “I brought my lunch,” I started to say.

“It seems that your wife wants to talk with Jessica and me without you there, so you’ll be able to eat the lunch your wife packed for you. If it’s the same as yesterday, I’d suggest maybe eating at your desk.”

That was the last Julie said to me until she and Jessica left to have lunch with my wife. While I quietly ate the baby food from the jars at my desk, I worried and wondered what the three women were talking about. Was my wife threatening them to stay away from me? Was she telling them stories about how I wet myself? What could they be talking about?

All the worry had nearly made me forget to go to the bathroom. As a wet spot developed on the front of my pants, I rushed to the bathroom. Luckily, the spot wasn’t any bigger than a quarter. Unfortunately, it would be noticeable to anyone who knew to look. It would dry before the end of the day, so I wasn’t concerned too much.

My phone was ringing when I got back to my desk, but I didn’t reach it in time. My wife left me a voicemail. “Sweetie, it looks like you have some good friends at work,” she said. “They’ve agreed to look after you, so if you have any problems or need help with anything, you can ask either of them. To be honest, Jessica seems a bit more willing than Julie, but they both agreed. I love you and will see you at home tonight.”

It wasn’t long after that Julie and Jessica returned from lunch. The two women hovered over me for a moment before Jessica said, “Let’s find a quiet place to chat.” I followed them to one of the small conference rooms where Julie closed the door behind us. “You have a very loving wife,” Julie stated. “Although she is very unconventional, I can tell she loves you very much.”

“So here’s the deal.” Jessica interrupted. “Your wife is concerned about you while you are at work, and she’s asked us, because we’re such great people, to look after you during the day. She said you have been staying dry pretty well but may need reminding to get to the bathroom before it’s too late.”

Julie pointed at the wet spot on my pants. “Kind of stressful today, huh?”

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Jessica quipped. “Don’t worry, it will dry before too long. Julie and I will remind you to go to the potty every couple of hours so that you won’t have to disappoint your wife by going home wet. We’re all friends here, so don’t feel embarrassed, okay?”

Our little meeting broke up, and I soon found myself at my desk, wondering how long it would take before other people would notice what was going on. For the rest of the day, Julie and Jessica quietly reminded me to go to the bathroom so that by the end of the day my bladder was empty and my underwear dry.

Before I left for the day, both the ladies cornered me at my desk. “You’ve done well today,” Julie praised, “I’m sure you’ll do just as well tomorrow.’

“I started a calendar for you,” Jessica said, showing it to me. “My sister did this with my niece, so I thought maybe we could do it for you. I’ll put a star on each day that you stay dry and…”

My face was red with humiliation. “Jessica!” Julie exclaimed. “You’re embarrassing him. But,”

she continued, “if you stay dry all week, maybe we could give you a treat or something.”

“I should go,” I muttered, pushing past the women. I felt completely humiliated and started to get grumpy. The drive home only magnified my disposition. And by the time I arrived at my doorstep, I was in a foul mood.

I stood at the door for a moment. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to calm down and remember that my wife loved me and was just trying to help. That moment of Zen did nothing for me. I was being treated like a child, and maybe I should act like one. I decided to do something to make her mad so she’d know how I felt.

I swung the door open and shut it hard behind me. I waited to see if that got a reaction. I could hear her working on dinner in the kitchen, and the thought of having to eat baby food again made me angry. I decided on my course of action.

I pulled down my pants and aimed my flaccid penis at the floor. I strained to pee, and just as my wife came into view, I realized a very important fact: my bladder was empty.

“Sweetie? What are you doing?” My wife was completely confused.

“I… I…” I didn’t know how to explain that I was trying to pee on the floor to make her mad in protest for being treated like a child.

A seductive smile came across her face. “Is that for me?” She said in a sultry voice. “Are you wanting something?” She closed the distance between us quickly and kissed me hard on the lips. She reached down and squeezed my hand that was holding my dick.

I was still mad but trying to get over it. Although my wife was attempting foreplay, I couldn’t get an erection. I figured it was due to my mood and decided to just go with it. She continued to kiss me while trying to pump my hand on my cock.

She broke contact to push me to the floor as she stripped off the last of my clothing. She slid off her skirt to reveal plain white panties. I could see her mature pubic hair pushing out above the waistband. “Do you like that?” She asked, noticing my gaze. I nodded breathlessly. She proceeded to push her panties down just a bit more to expose more hair. Without thinking, I started to suck on my thumb.

She danced a bit seductively, pulling her panties down further but not off. Soon she was pulling her top off to expose her breast trapped behind the fabric of her bra. My cock was inflating like a balloon, and she seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as me.

Without disrobing any further, she straddled me. I could feel the heat from her pussy on my stomach. My hips were thrusting involuntarily as she rubbed herself on my belly. Still sucking my thumb, I reached up with my free hand and grabbed her breast.

“Whoa there, Cowboy,” She said, winking at me. “If you want something, you’ve got to ask.”

My mind was racing a hundred miles a minute, but my thoughts just weren’t focused. I didn’t know what to ask for, so I reached up and grabbed again. This time she slapped my hand away. “You are such a naughty boy. Do you want to touch my boobs? All you have to do is ask.”

I felt silly asking, but from around my thumb I asked: “Can I touch your boobs?”

“No, but I’ll let you see them.” She unhooked her bra and freed her breast for me to see. “Now you can look but not touch.”

As she rubbed on me, her breasts swayed back and forth. It was all that I could do to keep from touching them. I sucked hard on my thumb as she leaned forward to brush her hard nipples against my cheek. Finally, she reached down, pulled her panties to the side, and slid down on my raging cock. It had been a while since I was inside her; I almost forgot what it felt like.

She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip as she mashed her full bush against my hairless pubic bone. As we both grew closer to orgasm, she reached down and pulled my thumb from my mouth, pinning both my arms against the floor.

“Did you cum already?” she asked suddenly.

“No!” I said desperately as my erection failed. I was getting soft in my wife, and she knew instantly.

“Oh,” she seemed like she didn’t believe me. As she leaned back, my limp dick easily popped out. She stuck a finger up into herself to check for semen.

“I guess you didn’t.” She said with amazement. “I guess you were just done then.” The whole event seemed to amuse her.

She could see the frustration and despair on my face. “Sweetie, it’s okay. It happens sometimes to guys. Normally men cum too quickly, but in your case, it seems that your little guy just seems to give up.”

“But I’m still feeling horny,” I pleaded.

“I’m sorry your equipment isn’t working right,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe it’s your prostate. Get on all fours, and I’ll see.”

Reluctantly, I got on my hands and knees, sticking my ass up towards my wife. “Wait right there while I get some stuff to help you out.”

I waited patiently with my butt up in the air, feeling ashamed that I couldn’t satisfy either myself or my wife. I was also feeling silly for acting so childish when I got home. A few moments passed, and my wife hadn’t returned. I still waited, but I started to wonder if she was coming back.

“Are you coming back?” I yelled out. “Just a moment more.” She called back from the bedroom. It sounded like she was out of breath, but I couldn’t tell.

Soon after that, she came back wearing just her bathrobe with a tube of lubricant and another object I couldn’t quite make out.

“Sweetie? Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“I did some research, and I’d like to try something that might help both of us when it comes to draining your prostate.” She came around behind me and pressed her body against mine. I could feel her pubic hair pressed up against my ass. She leaned over me so that her hard nipples lightly caressed my back.

“I found a tool that will help me. Are you willing to let me give it a try?”

I hesitated but agreed. “Now just relax, and I’m going to work in some lubricate.”

She quickly spread the cool liquid liberally over my ass hole and worked her finger in a bit to make sure there was good coverage.

“Now just relax.”

I could hear a hint of excitement in her voice. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I didn’t expect what came next. I felt something larger than her finger press against my well-lubbed hole. I could feel her pushing it slowly into me, working it back and forth. I tried to relax the best I could, but the pressure on my sphincter was intense and a bit painful. She reached under and gave a light tug on my deflated cock, and instinctively I pressed back against her, causing the tool to penetrate my anus more. Oddly, we both gasped when that happened. Her motion ceased for a moment as my butt hole expanded to accommodate the intruding device.

I could feel that familiar feeling of needing to pee as my prostate was being stimulated.

“You doing okay, Sweetie?” she asked.

I was a little uncomfortable, but I nodded.

The next two events took me by surprise. I felt both her hands on my hips and felt her pushing me forward as the tool slid farther into me. She began rocking back and forth, pulling and pushing the tool in and out of me.

“Oh Sweetie,” she moaned.

Suddenly I realized what the new tool was that she had found to stimulate my prostate. She was fucking my ass with some sort of dildo. “Oh my god,” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you,” she groaned and slapped my ass.

“It feels like you are fucking me.” That drew another harder slap on my ass.

“What’s your language, young man!”

Her thrusts became more powerful as she pounded away at my ass. I couldn’t understand what she was getting out of doing this or how she was getting stimulated at all. Moments later, she shoved herself completely against me as she quivered with pleasure. Somehow, she had managed to reach orgasm and a strong one at that.

She pulled the tool out just enough that the tip of it was directly on my prostate. I could feel the pressure intensify as she angled her body and slowly rotated to stroke the right spot. Unwittingly, I moaned as the fluids began to drain from me.

“I thought you’d like this.” She said. “Just a moment longer and we’ll be done.”

She was right. Whatever she was using did make this more pleasurable, but I wasn’t convinced it was better.

She slid the tool out of me and said, “Go ahead and get up. I’d like to show you something.”

I was a bit sore, but I got up and turned around. My mind had trouble processing what I saw.

My wife stood there with her robe open, with a blue dick sticking out of her crotch. It was like she grew a long smurf dick. “It’s called a Feeldoe.” She announced, gently stroking it. “It’s a strapless strap on.”

I was totally confused and not processing at all. She squatted a bit and pulled the contraption out of her pussy. With it freed from her body, I could better understand how she derived so much pleasure from the experience. The part she was sticking in me looked like a penis, but the part she had in her would have pressed hard against the right places as well as fill her up.

“I think this will solve both our problems.” She was absolutely beaming with joy at how well it worked. She put it back in and hugged me. I could feel her hard cock against my limp member. I felt completely humiliated.

“Listen, Sweetie,” she said, releasing me. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and set the table while I go change.

When I reached down for my clothes, she stopped me. “I’ll bring you something to wear in a minute. Just get going.” I was a bit self-conscious, but after being taken by my wife up the ass, walking around naked almost felt normal.

In the kitchen, my wife had set out a salad for herself and several jars of food for me. I moved them to the table and got the appropriate silverware for each of us. By the time I had retrieved drinks, my wife had returned wearing her comfortable sweatpants and t-shirt.

“I’m not wearing it,” she said playfully, noticing that I was staring at her crotch. “I brought you some comfortable clothing for this evening.”

She held out a pink t-shirt and the gypsy skirt I had worn before. I sighed and put them on. “Tonight, I thought we’d work more on your potty training, so I didn’t bring you panties to wear. The moment you need to go potty, let me know so we can get there on time.”

As we ate, my wife chatted about her day. After a few days of eating baby food, I hardly noticed the texture. Every once and awhile she would pause and look at me like she was expecting me to say something. She finished her dinner before me and insisted on helping me finish mine. As she spooned the mushy food into my mouth, she suppressed a smile.

My stomach was quite full by the time she was all done feeding me. Then the rumbling began. My bowels seemed to be moving, and with the recent trauma to my sphincter, I was genuinely afraid that my back door wouldn’t stay shut.

I could tell my wife was enjoying my predicament when she said, “Sweetie, is there something you need to tell me?” I shifted a bit, but that seemed to make things worse. “I need to go to the bathroom,” I said desperately.

“Then let’s go,” she stood up and reached for me. I hadn’t had a problem yet, but I was afraid that any movement would cause my bowls would betray me and I’d end up pooping all over the floor.

“I can’t. I don’t think I can make it.” I was feeling more desperate for having to admit my problem.

“Well, you just can’t sit there all night,” she said, pulling me to my feet.

She rushed me to the bathroom, but with every step I took, I thought for sure I’d let go. The last few steps were close, but somehow I made it. Flipping my skirt up and sitting down on the toilet, it sounded like a firehose was shooting into the toilet. A steady stream of watery shit jettisoned from my tender ass. My wife stood there happily, praising my efforts.

The flow would stop and start, but finally I was finished. Completely exhausted by the experience, I nearly fell off the toilet. “Well, Sweetie. I’m glad that’s over,” my wife said, helping me up. “I’ve been waiting a few days for that to happen. With that good cleansing, you should be right back on track.”

“So, am I not eating baby food?” I asked weakly

“I don’t think we should start clogging you up right after you just unplugged. Don’t you agree?”

It kind of made sense, but I was really too weak to think. “Okay. Can you put a diaper on me? I don’t know if I have the strength to be good the rest of the night.”

She smiled and led me to the bed, where she stripped me naked and began gathering the things needed to diaper me. Before she could continue, the doorbell rang, and she left me on the bed.

“I have a surprise for you,” my wife said as she returned to the room. “Special delivery just for you.” She held out a large pacifier. “You’ve been sucking your thumb a lot lately, so I thought I’d get you a pacifier so you wouldn’t ruin your teeth.” She popped into my mouth and chuckled a bit when I started sucking on it.

“That’s a good boy.” She cooed

I was still completely wiped out from crapping my guts out, but the message didn’t seem to have reached my penis. As I sucked on the pacifier, my dick got hard. Oddly, I wasn’t feeling horny or aroused. My wife smiled at my reaction.

“You seem to like your present.”

I just lay there sucking on the pacifier. My wife sat on the bed next to me for a moment, then spoke, Are you going to take care of that?” I shook my head.

Another minute went by, but neither of us moved. “I wonder,” she said, getting up and retrieving a ruler. She paced on end at the base of my hard cock and read out the measurement.

“A full three inches. Wow, it looked bigger.” She then took out her Feeldoe and measured it.

“Mine is bigger than yours,” she said with a laugh. Holding it next to my cock she said, “See, it’s two and a half inches bigger.” My dick looked like a midget next to her new toy. I felt completely humiliated. I was no longer in control of my body; even my erection betrayed me.

I took the pacifier out of my mouth and said, “That’s not nice. I can’t help it.” As I was talking, my cock deflated, making it look even smaller. We both took notice; she laughed, and I wanted to cry. “Now, Sweetie, don’t fret. I love you no matter how big your wee-wee is.”

I started to resent the situation and my naughtiness returned. Before I could do anything, my wife spoke, “You know-” she said, toying a bit with her Feeldoe.

“No, I don’t want to do that again.” I interrupted. She looked a little hurt but continued,

“No, I was thinking of something else.” Her tone turned sheepish. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to get a hand job.”

I was confused, amazed, and a little turned on. “Would you give me a hand job?” She said softly, holding up the Feeldoe. I took a deep breath; I didn’t know what to say. She took my silence as approval.

She slid the faux penis back into place and lay beside me. I didn’t know what to do or even if I wanted to do this. She reached over and guided my hand to the protruding member. I grasped the cock, but that was it. Frustrated by my lack of motion, she put her hand over mine and made me jack her off. I resigned myself to the task and took over. Her hand slid off as I pumped away at her dick.

I must have been doing it right because she started thrusting her hips and moaning. “Oh, that’s so good,” she panted. “You’re really good at this.”

My arm was getting tired, but I kept going, jacking her off so she could cum. It occurred to me that this might be how women felt when a guy did this to them. Then I wondered how many girls give hand jobs to avoid having sex with a guy. Being distracted, I didn’t notice that my wife’s hand had made its way behind my neck and was now guiding my face towards her crotch.

I resisted, but she kept pushing all the while I kept jerking on her cock. With my face within inches, she moaned, “Oh, Sweetie… please…” I closed my eyes and opened my lips. Her new dick was quickly thrusting into my mouth. I was totally a mind fuck for her, but she was soon quivering with an orgasm. I leaned back, still lightly stroking the object jetting out of her crack.

On the one hand, I had successfully got her off, but on the other hand, I had just given my wife a blowjob. She looked over at me and smiled. I looked down at my shrunken penis and sighed. She rolled over on me, and I could feel her hard dick against my body. My humiliation and resentment came back.

I slid out from underneath her and went to the dresser to pull out a pair of the training pants. “You sure you want to do that, Sweetie?”

“Yes,” I said emphatically. I put them on, faced her, and I peed myself.

She watched me do all this with shocked amusement. And when I was done peeing, she said, “Did you do that on purpose?” She knew the answer.

“Yes,” I said with triumph.

The absurdity came crashing down on me. There I was looking at my naked wife on the bed with a blue penis sticking out of her body, in the span of about an hour been fucked in the ass by my wife, given her a hand job, and a blowjob. Now I was standing in the middle of my bedroom wearing training pants that I just purposely urinated in.

She sat up and looked at me for a moment. I couldn’t quite read her mood. She pulled the Feeldoe out of her body and sat up, still without saying a word. The piss cooled in my pants, and it began to become uncomfortable. Noticing my discomfort, she cracked a smile, “I’m assuming you were trying to make a point.”

“I… uhhh…” I hadn’t really thought about what I was doing. She stood up and walked over to me. “Looks like you soaked that pretty good,” she noted. Coming around behind me, she tugged the waistband down in the back, exposing my bare ass.

“I think you were trying to be naughty.” She said, rubbing her hand across my butt. “Were you trying to be naughty?”

“Yes,” I responded quietly, afraid that I was about to get a spanking. She pulled the training pants back up. “Since you were honest, I won’t give you a swat. But you will have to wear those wet panties for the rest of the night as your punishment.

 

The End.

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