Chapter Description: Things go from bad to worse for the cheating husband.
Unconsciousness was a small blessing for Daniel. Hours passed in the blink of an eye. He did not feel the scissors cutting away his clothes, shredding up his privacy into fine bits of scrap to be burned. He did not feel the shaving razors gently gliding and scratching away his body hair, erasing his secondary signs of virility and puberty. He didn’t feel lotions and powders being applied or what could only loosely be described as “underwear” being taped back on him.
He didn’t even dream. He was simply groaning and losing consciousness one minute, and then in the blink of an eye, he was groaning and regaining it again. The span of what could have been several hours or even days had been condensed into ten seconds or so from Daniel’s point of view.
The fact the scenery hadn’t changed in that time between time didn’t diminish the illusion. Like a doll carefully placed in a diorama, Daniel woke up in the exact same position that he’d fallen in. The drugs still clearing from his foggy brain, he didn’t scream or question as much as grunted and groaned in confusion.
He was chilly and he ached. Even the most cursory glance confirmed why. He frowned and squinted, unsure if what he was seeing was real. Bare chest, bare arms, bare legs and feet. All impeccably smooth; baby smooth. Bare bot….: Correction, not bare bottom.
The part time telemarketer stared at the puffy plastic backed thing taped around his hips. This had to be some kind of joke, right? White, with red, blue, and green cartoon animals stenciled all over, the garment crinkled with every miniscule movement that Daniel made. It had a kind of rough velcro on it and four tapes holding the things together. Other than that minor difference it looked like a...like a…
Daniel opened his mouth and felt just how terribly dry it was. Was he wearing a diaper? Not even an old person’s diaper; more like something a kid would wear.
Gingerly, Daniel sat all the way up and poked at it. A spark traveled from his finger tip and raced up his shoulder and down his spine. Touching it made it more real. Further inspection made it more real. It was a diaper, not just something that looked like a diaper until one more fully woke up.
Again, he gave it another poke. Having absolutely no experience in childcare and a lack of interest that bordered on willful ignorance of a basic life skill, Daniel wasn’t sure if the diaper was wet or not. Maybe a nother poke…?
“Careful diaper boy,” a familiar voice grabbed his attention.
Daniel’s head whipped up away from examining his padded crotch. “Huh?” He knew that voice. “Jane?”
A slender form clothed in a dark blue dress walked into Daniel’s field of view. Jane. Just not the Jane Daniel was expecting (or perhaps hoping for). Blonde hair framed a sweetly smiling face, and ruby red lips. The last few minutes of his consciousness played back to him. “Hi, baby.”
The perimeter of his vision unblurred and the bright and colorful nursery popped back into his brain. He was laying on a foam mat made up of brightly colored puzzle pieces. To one side was a shelf of children’s books. To another were piles of dolls and stuffed animals. Behind his wife were wooden blocks and tiny plastic trains. Wearing a diaper suddenly made a lot more sense in this context; or at the very least it fit the theme.
“Oh shit!” Daniel said to Jane. “They got you too? The fuck?! What are we gonna do?!” Then it hit him that Jane was dressed more or less as she always dressed. Nothing had happened to her. “Why aren’t you wearing a diaper?”
The sound of Jane’s laughter was not unknown to him, but Daniel’s wife hadn’t done so in such a long time that it sounded an almost ghostly and unfamiliar thing. “Oh, Daniel,” she sighed. “Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Huh?” Daniel started to ask. “Wha-?” That was when his wife reached into the pocket of her half apron and stuck a pacifier in his mouth.
“Shhhhh…” Jane hushed. “Mommy’s talking right now. It’s time for you to listen.” The shock of his situation, reinforced by a gentle tap on the bottom of his chin and the top of his head assured Daniel’s compliance.
“You’ve been very naughty,” she said. “Very neglectful. You’ve cheated on me. You’ve lied to me. Ignored me. And the moment my parents cut us off is when you lost interest in me as anything other than your maid. You haven’t been a husband, you’ve been a dependent. You’ve made some very bad choices.” More unnerving, than what she was saying, was the way she was saying it. It was so light and airy. And slowly spoken. The way his kindergarten teachers used to talk to him and over-explain everything in soft and gentle terms.
Quickly she bent over and slipped two fingers into the leg cuffs of Daniel’s diaper. “Still dry,” she said. “Maybe you CAN pay attention to something. Who knows, after today I might decide that you’re big enough for potty training.”
Another attempt at speaking was cut off with a simple pressing of the pacifier’s shield to his lips. “Shhhhh….And then you went and got a vasectomy so that I couldn’t get my child. But that’s okay. I don’t need one anymore. I have you.”
“If the diaper fits, diaper boy.” The grin was looking less and less pleasant as the conversation continued.
Daniel shifted to his knees and grunted. No way was he taking this shit lying down. His blood boiled. His teeth gnashed around the pacifier. No way was Jane doing this to him! No way was he gonna let her!
If he wanted to, he could stand right up. He could stand right up and run right out the room. Diaper or no diaper, he could outrun Jane in her heels. If he wanted to he wouldn’t even have to run, just teach Jane a lesson.
Diaper or no diaper, it wouldn’t even be a fight. What was it his father had told him so long ago? “What do you tell a woman with two black eyes? Nothin’. She’s already been told twice.” He could fix that. He could tell the bitch twice.
A light cough got Daniel’s attention before he could so much as lift a finger. They weren’t alone in this mock up of a nursery playroom. The goons were here too. Flashes of literally getting his ass beat in his own kitchen while the much larger and stronger men held him down came back to Daniel.
Daniel didn’t feel quite so big and tough anymore.
Jane stepped away long enough for Daniel to get a good look at the goons. Something new had been added to their arsenal. One of them was holding a video camera, high end from the look of it.
One of the big men was pointing the camera directly at Daniel in all of his infantile non-glory. The other stood beside his cohort with his arms crossed. He made the briefest eye contact with Daniel and nodded.
The goons didn’t talk, but that was normal for them. The Fourth Base’s security guards never uttered a peep. And peeps weren’t needed. What did you say to a man who’d been spanked and diapered like a trailer park toddler? Nothing. He’d already been told loud and clear.
Yeah. Daniel knew: Step out of line, and a vengeful wife would be the least of his worries. A sore bottom was better than broken bones and damaged pride would heal much more quickly in the short term.
His wife returned carrying some toys: Toy trains, to be specific. Tiny little plastic things on plastic wheels; an engine and two cars. “Why don’t you play with these?” Jane suggested. “You look like you want to do something with your hands.”
Daniel looked past Jane and to the two man mountains staring at him from across the room. “Oh don’t mind them,” Jane said. “They’re new friends of Mommy’s and just making us some home movies. Just pretend they’re not here.” She paused for a moment. “Now play.” For the first time a bit of edge creeped into his wife’s voice.
Daniel leaned over onto all fours so he could balance and continued sucking on the pink pacifier. Slowly, in timid little jerks and tugs, Daniel started moving the tiny caravan of plastic around the mat.
“Muuuuch better!” Jane cooed at him. “So much more pleasant and stimulating than just sitting at the dinner table and watching your phone. Now you’re actually doing something!”
His cheeks flushed hotter with every syllable that came out of her mouth.
Eyes on the floor, he felt her pull open the back of his diaper and pat his bottom. “Just in case,” she said.
Her shoes came back into view. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jane told him. “If I decide you’re not worth it, I’m divorcing you. And because on paper at least, I don’t make any money, that means alimony for you. I’ll keep our tiny house. You’ll spend years paying me.” Daniel sucked a little harder on the pacifier, swallowing hard. It still might be worth it…
“And before you think of cutting your losses,” Jane interrupted his thoughts. “Remember this.” The Goons walked up, camera shouldered and filming. “If I divorce you, I’m sending this tape to your employer. I’ll find a way to get it to anyplace that hires you, too. I’ll send it to your friends who you used to mooch off before we started dating. I’ll send it to any new friends. Everyone you meet will find out exactly the type of person you are.” Her voice went back to that cooing baby talk tone. “You’re Mommy’s widdle baby who needs her to cook and cwean for him and put him to bed and change his diapees.”
Daniel said nothing, and just kept playing with his trains.
“Do I have your attention, now?” Jane asked, sounding more in charge than she ever had before.
Daniel couldn’t look at her. There was the camera. Instead, he just looked at her feet. Just like in the cartoons, the woman calling herself his Mommy seemed to stop at just above the knees.
I CAN DO BETTER
I CAN DO BETTER
I CAN DO BETTER
I CAN DO BETTER
I CAN DO BETTER
I CAN DO BETTER
I CAN DO BETTER
Jane sat in the rocking chair as Daniel wrote lines on the easel chalkboard. The handwriting was big and clunky, and all the letters were childishly capitalized. In part, that was because Jane had instructed her husband to write the phrase “I can do better” one hundred times with his left hand.
“Very good,” Jane smiled. “Only sixty-three more to go.” Pacifier still in his mouth, Daniel put down the chalk long enough to erase and start over again..
The capitalization also came as a natural reaction to writing with his left hand. In general, capital letters were much easier to write than lowercase. Daniel’s lack of dexterity in his non-dominant hand made it practically a necessity.
Jane had been tempted to tell him to write his punishment sentences in cursive “Like a big boy”, but the thumbs up from the domme’s muscle men behind the camera let her know that this was just fine.
The Adult Baby fetish market would eat this content up. According to Domme Jane, it wouldn’t matter to viewers that most people young enough in diapers weren’t old enough to write punishment lines (or that that form of school age discipline had long been fading out of favor)
They just wanted to see a grown man pushed back into a hyper funhouse mirror of a childhood that for most never actually existed. That’s what people were paying to jerk off to.
It was kind of the fetish version of the pizza delivery guy trope. No one watching it would really believe that the pizza guy might get laid by an attractive single woman while out on a delivery. A delivery driver couldn’t afford it. Even five to six minutes (and in porn it was always longer than six minutes) could hurt the poor schlubs bottom line. Might get him fired, too.
Still... it was fun to imagine being a working class stiff and finding an incredibly hot and horny woman just waiting for you. That’s how ‘Domme Jane’ explained it. Let people indulge in the fantasy even if it doesn’t really make sense.
Selling fantasies was how the woman called ‘Domme Jane’ made her money. It was how she was going to make even more money and how Jane was going to take back control of her life. That was the deal: She’d give Jane the tools and training needed to bring Daniel back in line and get his just desserts, and in return Daniel’s humiliation would be filmed and sold. Jane didn’t even feel a tiny bit guilty that she’d lied to Daniel. No matter what he did today, people were going to see him diapered and dominated on film; it was just a matter of ‘who’ saw it: Horny pervs looking for a Mommy domme fantasy, or potential employers. He’d lied to her about bigger things so this just made them square.
Maybe, if he was really good, she’d ask her benefactor to change the names in the credits, so that Daniel could have some form of plausible deniability.
As long as Daniel was properly broken and chastised, Jane didn’t much care.
“Very good!” She chirped as he was erasing yet again. “Forty-nine to go.”
Daniel “Mommy,” Daniel mumbled over his pacifier. “Can I pweathe fwitch handf?”
A thin smile spread out over her lips. “I don’t think so, diaper boy,” she replied. “We both know how naughty you can get with that hand.” Inwardly, Jane was cheering. Without any prompting or correction, he was already calling her ‘Mommy’. During her whirlwind training and planning sessions with the domme, Jane had been told that she was a natural. A natural Mommy.
While he wrote I CAN DO BETTER more and more, Jane noticed her husband sneak his right hand to his stomach. Good. The suppository she’d slipped in just before he regained consciousness was starting to take effect.
People would pay good money for messing content, Jane was told. And Daniel had earned it, too. “You’re doing very well, baby!”
Daniel’s left hand ached something fierce. Handwriting was in itself a dying art. Beyond greeting cards and signatures, Daniel didn’t know of anyone past highschool who still wrote stuff by hand. Combined with the fact that he wasn’t using his dominant hand, had made writing punishment lines both excruciating and slow. He didn’t even have proper muscle memory to rely on.
Yet the ache in his digits and wrist distracted him from the building storm in his abdomen. Carefully he enunciated around the big pink pacifier in his mouth. “I’m done, Mommy,” the diaper boy said after the hundredth line.
Diaper boy. That’s what Jane kept calling him. Mommy. That’s what she kept calling herself.
Daniel went along with it and didn’t object or dare try to call his wife by her name or remind her of their real relationship. He was in no position to make demands. So “Mommy” it was.
Jane stood up from the rocking chair and inspected the final bit of his handiwork. It was strange, Daniel thought, how well into the surroundings she fit. More amazing was how it seemed to change her. In the kitchen wearing her modest dress, pearls, and half-apron, she was a housewife. Beautiful, but docile. Feminne and convenient. Loving but sexless. Faithful but subservient.
Here in this mock nursery, with it’s bright rainbow colors and babyish stencils on the wall, the tone changed and with it her beauty. She was gentle but powerful. Feminine and in charge. Sexual but in control. She looked like a daycare attendant, or a preschool teacher, or well..a Mommy, and what was ‘Mommy’ but the first word that children learned to love and fear?
“Very good, Daniel,” she said in mock praise. “I knew you could do it. Mommy’s so proud of you.”
A cramp in his gut disrupted his concentration. “Fank...Thank you...Mommy.” Stuck in a nursery, naked save for a cartoon decorated diaper, and writing punishment lines like Bart Simpson, Daniel also looked like he belonged; but not in a way that any sane person would want to be. Where’d anybody get these diapers anyway?
“Now,” Jane said. “Ask me what’s next.” She folded her hands in front of her, waiting for a response.
Another cramp caused Daniel to visibly wince. Nervously, he looked to his right. The goons were still there, filming. Over the back of Jane’s shoulder, there was a massage table that had teddy bear sheets tucked over it. It was a big clunky thing with shelves, stacked with folded rectangular things.
From a distance, Daniel might have assumed they were towels or something, but the red, blue, and green hues and a pinch of common sense told Daniel what they really were. That meant that the white cylinder and the rectangular box were probably baby powder and wipes. This room even had a changing table.
“Can I go to the bathroom?” Daniel asked.
“Ask me what’s next.” Jane repeated herself, her gaze impassive. Her tone unchanging.
Daniel frowned and pursed his lips “Ja-!”
The whine of protest hadn’t even left his mouth when a perfectly manicured hand stung across his face. The one thing that did leave his mouth was the pacifier, going sailing across the nursery and bouncing till it rolled into the wall.
“Baby diaper boys don’t get to use grown-up’s names!” Jane shouted at him. “Now do it right.”
She slapped him! She actually slapped him! More than the spanking, this shook Daniel beyond words. The absolute decisiveness. The aggression. The complete and total lack of hesitancy or fear. Who was this woman and what had she done with his wife?! Unconsciously, he imagined her with black hair and a cigarette. Was this his Jane? His wife?
“Mommy,” he corrected himself. “Can I please go to the bathroom?”
“You mean the potty?”
“Then ask correctly, crinkle butt.”
The cramps had advanced from occasional stabbing in his abdomen to a consistent belly ache and a slight desire to push from his body. There was a bullet in the chamber and it was ready to fire.
Wincing, Daniel asked again. “Mommy? Can I please go potty?”
Jane tilted her head to the side and tapped her chin as if in thought. “Hmmm...no.”
Her hand snapped out and pinched his cheek. “You’re just so cute in your diapers,” she baby talked to him. “It’d be such a waste to have you go potty all by yourself. You’re far too immature for such a big thing.”
“If you need to go,” she cut him off, “you can just go potty in your diaper. That’s what it’s there for.”
Daniel said nothing but grimaced. She wasn’t serious, was she? The unwavering tone and the unblinking eyes made him suspect as much.
Jane pointed to a suspension harness. “What if I put you in a bouncer and put some cartoons on for you? It’d be just like when you sit at the dinner table and tune out the world.”
“Hon-” He stopped himself. “Mommy. Please! I really need to go!”
“Go?” She was waiting for him to say it.
“POTTY!” He was on the verge of tears from frustration if not pain.
Her hands went to her hips and she cocked her head again. “Okay,” she said. Daniel didn’t move. “If you do the potty dance first.”
“The potty dance?”
“Of course. If you’re a big boy, prove your not an immature and dishonest diaper baby. Do the potty dance.”
Vague memories from back before kindergarten came back to Daniel. So desperate was he that he obeyed almost immediately. His hands shot to his penis and clamped down, and he squeezed his legs together and nervously shifted from foot to foot. This is what little kids looked like when they had to go to the bathroom, right? Right. The diaper made it more than a little awkward but it was manageable.
Best he’d felt so far: Hopeful. Embarrassed. But manageable.
Jane smirked. “That’s not the potty dance.”
“It’s not?” Daniel frowned.
“No. It’s not.” She walked around and yanked his hands away. “Bend over a little bit, and put your hands here.” She moved the palms of his hands to just above his knees. “Spread your legs a bit...a little more. There.” Daniel was left like he was in a one man football huddle. “Now dance.”
Daniel tried to replicate the same nervous shifting, but with the diaper he seemed less like a kid needing to go to the bathroom and more like the world’s puniest sumo wrestler. Having his stance so wide wasn’t making it any easier to hold it in.
Jane laughed at his feeble attempts. “Not like that.” She said. “Shake your hips. Thrust! Get low! Wiggle that diapered butt.”
Daniel obeyed, thrusting his hips backward and getting low. Every movement made a loud crinkling noise, like his pants were made out of plastic garbage bags (and in a way they were). It didn’t take long for him to realize what he was really doing.
“Twerking?” Daniel blushed. “I’m twerking?”
“If that makes you feel more like a man,” Jane taunted, ‘you can call it that. Now keep going.”
Like a drunken sorority girl looking to get laid, Daniel kept thrust his hips. “How long do I have to?”
“Until I tell you to stop,” his wife replied. She looked back to the goons. “Are you getting this?” One of them nodded. The other just kept filming.
“Mmmm,” Jane said. “Shake that ass, baby.” Daniel let out a pathetic little yelp when she. “Don’t forget to go side to side. Really shake that thing. Shake it like you’re desperate.”
This wasn’t hard to do. Because he was desperate. Speaking of desperation…
“Mommy….” he whined.
“Hmm?” Jane said, sounding only half interested. “You’re so cute twerking like that.”
Daniel had never been camping. He lived low on the log instead of high on the hog, but he could never remember pooping in anything other than a toilet. While he’d never given much thought to it, if pressed, he would have assumed that toilets were built the way they were because women couldn’t aim. Why not a chair with a bowl in it. He’d never even owned a dog or a cat or any other animal that squatted when it pooped.
But hunched over, squatting and thrusting his hips, with his cheeks spreading and his body getting lower and lower with Jane’s commands, his body was beginning to remember things; things Daniel used to do before he was properly toilet trained.
“Keep going,” she said. “Make it hot. Get lower. Yeeeeah...that’s it.”
“What about potty?” he repeated “I need to...I need to…” that’s when the seal broke. The suppository that had been slipped up his anus had done its job, and Daniel went just low enough, his body did the rest.
It came out as a spurt first. Daniel froze. “I didn’t say stop.” Jane said. But Daniel couldn’t obey. Beads of cold sweat started to form on his brow and the first wave leapt out of him, spilling out into the giant baby diaper.
The act was anything but quiet. On the extremely off chance that his wife didn’t hear the muffled farts or the loud plastic rustling as the diaper ballooned out beneath him to hold the mess, she definitely heard the unconscious moaning as his insides poured out.
“Ooooh,” Jane giggled “I guess that’s not the potty dance, but the diaper dance.” Frozen in humiliated terror as he was, Daniel stood statue still, like a toddler that just hadn’t been smart enough to go hide behind the couch as she planted a kiss on his cheek.. “Go ahead diaper boy. Get it all out.”
The goons took this as a cue to come closer, closing in on his face to watch the tears form and start to mingle with the sweat. To watch the bottom lip tremble. To walk around and document the ever expanding and discolored padding.
And all Daniel could do was grunt, push, and lie to himself that this wasn’t happening. Lie to himself that the warmth behind and infront him (his bladder had gotten in on the act, too) wasn’t his own bodily excrement. Lie to himself that he still had some form of control and that no one was going to see this. Some part of him wanted that pacifier back, if just to block part of his face.
Pride in shambles and with no way to backpedal, Daniel managed to get the fetid fecal matter out of him in just two large pushes. It was scarily easy, like his body wanted him to soil and humiliate himself.
“Can I stop now?” He begged his Mommy-wife. “Please?”
“Did I say stop?” Jane asked. “You already went potty in your pants. So I don’t see the rush to stop.”
“Keep. Going. Irresponsible, lying, mooching, diaper boy husbands don’t get to decide when they stop. Their Mommies do.”
Daniel was afraid. Not of the big men watching him like a hawk, idly cracking their knuckles, but of the blonde woman ordering him around. How had this happened?
“Sing.” Jane ordered.
“Give yourself something to dance to. It’ll make it go by faster.
Daniel hoped that meant it would end sooner. “The wheels on the bus go round and round!” he shouted. “Round and round! Round and round! The wheels on the bus go round and round! Allll throouuugh the toooooown!”
“Awww,” Jane smiled. “You even picked an appropriate song. Such a clever boy. Now keep going.”
He did. He kept twerking and shaking his hips, feeling the diaper sag and sway with every movement, pushing up against him, his mess practically rubbing counter to the rest of his body. Plenty of not-so-playful spanks spread the mess even more. Brisk slaps to his naked thighs burned like hell and brought back more recent memories. But Daniel didn’t dare stop.
Using praise and smacks, Jane added to the choreography.
The wipers went swish, swish, swish, and Daniel had to show with his hips moving left to right.
The driver went ‘Move on back’, and Daniel had to jerk hard enough that he too went backwards.
The people went up and down, and Daniel had to nearly sit and pop back up, his plastic backed bottom just barely grazing the ground every time. The only thing burning more than his leg muscles was his shame.
He was down on his knees when it came time for the kitties and the doggies on the bus.. A small part of him was thankful for that, he was getting exhausted. The very firm diaper squishes from Jane with each “Meow, meow, meow,” and “bow, wow, wow” made him less grateful.
And finally, “The babies on the bus go WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH WAH WA-AH-AH-AH-AH!” It wasn’t hard for Daniel to bawl like a baby. One toe was already past the breaking point. It was real by this point.
“Are you ready to stop?” Jane asked.
Wordlessly and tearfully, on all fours, Daniel nodded. “Yessssss…”
A shudder of a sigh. “Yes, Mommy.”
He got a condescending head pat. She was looming over him. “Say please.”
“Pleeeeease.” Please just let this end. Please just let him rest. Please just make this stop. He thought of the changing table. Please let him go there. He almost didn’t care if he was going to have to have his ass wiped on camera. Almost.
“Tell me you’re a bad husband,” she coaxed.
That wasn’t hard. “I’m a bad husband.” He really was. He was only seeing it, too late.
“Now say that you’re a diaper boy.”
“I’m a diaper boy.” The knot in his throat was choking him.
“And who am I?” she asked.
The sobbing was almost overtaking him now. “Mommy.”
“And who are you?”
“A diaper boy.”
“Now put it all together.”
“I’m a diaper boy, Mommy.”
She grabbed his hand and helped him up. “Good boy.” She did not, however, take him to the changing table like he’d been secretly hoping. Weak and weary, he was led back over to the rocking chair where she’d been sitting.
His Mommy sat down and patted her lap, not saying anything. She didn’t need to. Wincing and hating himself, Daniel sat in her lap. The feeling of the dirty and wet diaper fully pressing up against him made him want to vomit. It was like being trapped in his own skin.
Easily, she leaned over and grabbed a stuffed doll, a fairly large Raggedy Ann by the looks of it. “Here,” she said. “Cuddle this. It’ll make you feel better.”
It didn’t. Not exactly. But at least it gave him something to do with his hands. No pockets.
Jane stuck her hand out to her side. Wordlessly, the goon not holding the camera came over and handed her a baby bottle. It was full of something sloshing and white. Then, with a kind of practiced smoothness she brushed the rubber nipple up against Daniel’s lips. She gave no further command, she didn’t have to.
Daniel latched on and began drinking. That brought what might have been the first sincere smile to his wife’s face since he woke up, (longer in fact). “That’s right,” she whispered just loud enough for the camera to pick up . “Drink your bottle all up. Good diaper boy. Good baby.”
The humiliated man-baby glugged it down as fast as he could, clutching onto the Raggedy Ann doll, hugging the life out of it as his lips pulled more and more of the heavy liquid into his gut. “Can I get out of this now?” he whined. “Pleeeease Mommy?”
His wife/mommy’s laughter was almost musical. “Does my diaper boy want out of that dirty stinky diaper?”
Meekly, Daniel nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Okay,” Jane said and Daniel felt a slight twinge of relief. Finally, something was going his way. “But first…you’ve got to clean up.”
The babied husband winced. “Clean up?”
“Look at all these toys,” Jane gestured all around. “Does this look like a clean nursery to you?”
He blinked. He hadn’t considered it before. There were toys scattered everywhere so that to navigate sections without stepping on something one would have to high step or crawl. There was some kind of play tent out of the corner. It was a cute mess, but it was still a mess. “No?”
Jane beamed. “That’s right! You do know the difference between clean and dirty! But do you know how to clean it up all by yourself? Mommy isn’t so sure anymore. She’s been picking up after you for sooooo long that she thinks maybe you never knew how.”
The humiliated husband barely waited for the nudge to get off her lap. “So clean up? Then I can get out of this?”
“That’s right!” she chirped?
Emboldened and slightly hopeful. “And then things can get back to normal?”
“Clean it up like you’re supposed to,” Jane said, “and I’ll forgive you.”
“And I can get out of this thing?” He pointed to his drooping rear. “Wear underwear again?”
She stuck out her pinky. “Pinky promise.” Daniel went to finish this one last humiliating task. “Just one thing,” Jane said. Daniel froze. “You look cold. Would you like something to cover up?”
Daniel thought about it. Now that his sweat was evaporating he was feeling slightly chilly. “Yes, please.”
Daniel bit his tongue. “Yes, please, Mommy.” Thank goodness he wouldn’t have to get used to saying that.
The goons had switched camera duty and the other one came and handed a folded up bundle to Jane. Daniel didn’t like the looks of that bundle. He had a bad idea of what it was gonna be before she unfolded it but that foreknowledge did not help.
A dress. A pink one with frills on the skirt and puffs on the sleeve and a V-neck to show off non-existent cleavage. “Arms up.” Jane said.
“I am not wearing that.”
“It’s all Mommy has for you,” Jane said. “Now hands up.”
“Daniel. Hands. Up.”
Goon.1 was already cracking his neck. (Or maybe it was Goon 2?). But Jane gave him a sign to hold up.
Dress draped over her arm, Jane calmly approached. “Why not?”
“Do you mean that you’re not embarrassed being naked except for a dirty diaper?”
It was like the lights inside Daniel’s brain flickered for a second. “What? No. I me-...”
“Then this won’t be so bad.” She held his chin in the palm of her hand. “And this is the sort of thing Mommy wears when cleaning up after you.” That part was a lie. Jane wore dresses, but never something THAT frilly. The pink practically hurt his eyes. “Do you think you’re better than Mommy?”
The lights in his brain flickered again. Another unexpected turn. But part of this made sense to Daniel’s brain. If a husband was above a wife, than the mother was above the child. That’s how Daniel thought of it…
And right now he was paying the price by being the child.
“No, Mommy…” He raised his arms and let her pull the dress over his head. He looked down at himself and moved a little bit. It was a little tight in the shoulders but at least it was better than being naked.
His mommy took him by the elbow and placed him in a full length mirror to confirm. He looked like an idiot. The dress was not flattering at all. The frilly skirt almost made a perfect triangle, and from beneath that triangle…
Damnit! The skirt didn’t even cover his diaper! If he stood straight up and tugged down on it, the very bottom would still be peeking out. If he moved in the slightest; bent over, squatted, or raised his arms, even more of the infantile undergarment would show up.
“You look so pretty.” Jane mock complimented him.
“I hate it.” He tugged at the skirt, trying to magically stretch the fabric.
She stood behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. “Do you want out of it?”
“Mommy will get you out of it as soon as you’ve done your chores.” She gave him yet another pat on his squishy padded bottom. “Think of it as an incentive. Now, get to work.”
The next fifteen minutes were a tiny eternity for Daniel. Mommy-Jane, that is-took her seat back in the rocking chair. Daniel did the work. Jane ‘supervised’.
“That doll goes over there.”
“The coloring books don’t go with the regular books.”
“You have to separate the train cars before you put them in their box.”
“Biggest stuffed animal should be at the bottom of the pile.”
It was oddly exhausting; finding the right place for every little thing. The fact that the camera was now following him like a hawk, slowed him considerably, too. Every time he bent over his diaper flashed, and the goons would comment, if only in ‘Awwws’ and ‘Oooooos’. It was the most he’d heard either of them talk.
How did women wear these things?
As if reading his mind. “No need to be modest,” she said. “Babies don’t need to be modest. The short skirt just makes it easier to change. Keep going and we can get you out of that gross thing. You’re almost out of time.”
Almost out of time? Mommy hadn’t said anything about a time limit. He redoubled his efforts, no longer caring what he looked like. The time had come to where Daniel didn’t care about what he looked like so long as the tiny carrot of no longer looking like it was dangled over him.
“There!” Jane clapped her hands together. Doesn’t that look so much better?
Daniel looked around the faux nursery and nodded his head in big heaving breaths. In truth, he couldn’t tell much of a difference. To him it looked like he’d just moved a bunch of junk around. Without a garbage bag there was only so much cleaning that could be done.
Why was he so tired? The dancing and the just pure emotional exhaustion was really getting to him.
“Okay,” the woman who he used to call his wife said. “I think that’s enough for now. Don’t you?” The goons behind the camera flashed a thumbs up. “I think I’ve got it under control gentleman.” She turned her attention to Daniel. “Come on. Let’s get you out of that.”
“Thank you,” he whispered. His eyes drooped and he plodded along at uneven steps.
“Arms up,” Mommy Jane said. His eyes now all the way closed, he did as he was told without fuss. He felt the dress get yanked back over his head. “We’ll just save this for later,” she said.
Even that little veiled threat didn’t phase him. “Tha’s fine…” he slurred “Tha’s fine.” After this,he swore, he’d never cheat on his wife again. He had no idea how right he was.
“I think I’ve really found the real you,” Jane said to him.
Daniel allowed himself to be pushed back onto the flat surface. The soft mat beneath him wasn’t quite a bed mattress, more like something a doctor’s office would use. “Uh-huh,” he mumbled.
“This is the most attentive you’ve been…” Mommy Jane paused for a moment. “In years. Maybe ever.”
Despite himself, Daniel let out a quiet yawn. “Uh-huh.” He almost didn’t notice when his hands were guided into restraint cuffs, and a strap was pulled across his chest. Almost. “Huh?”
The pathetic man’s eyes opened, and his heart started to pound. For some stupid reason he thought he was being led out of the nursery. Taken to a bathroom or a shower. Instead, he realized that he’d just been led over to the playroom’s changing table. “Can’t have my diaper boy squirming when I change him!” She sounded way too happy.
“I thought you said….” He paused and collected his thoughts. He felt woozy. Very woozy. “I thought you said I was gonna get out of this thing.”
One tape at a time, Mommy Jane peeled open the diaper, revealing just how badly Daniel had debased himself. “That’s what diaper change is, silly. I get you out of the old diaper, and put you into a new one!” She waved her hand in front of her nose. “And you definitely need it, Mister! Unless you want to go to sleep and get a rash.”
She crossed his ankles and hoisted his legs up to his stomach.
“You said…” Daniel’s eyelids felt like they were made of lead. The cold wipes brushing up against him were helping him stay conscious. “You said I’d get to be normal.”
“This is normal, silly,” she replied, still wiping at his buttocks and groin. “Or it’s going to be. Normal for you, anyways. You were so much better behaved this way. I’m calling it a trial run.”
“What…” he gasped. “What was in that bottle?”
Mommy Jane ignored him. “You’re going to get everything you ever wanted from me.” She paused briefly to ball up the used diaper and throw it in the garbage. “I’ll cook for you, and clean for you. And wash all of your pretty clothes.” She unfolded a new one and managed to slide it under him. “Bathe you. And feed you. And change you. And you won’t even have to share a bed with me.”
“What was in that bot-?” He was cut off mid-change and mid-sentence as another pacifier was shoved between his lips.
“You won’t have to worry about anything. And in return, I’ll get that baby I wanted.” A cloud of baby powder - actual baby powder this time- punctuated her sentence. Besides the extra tapes and the plastic backing, it wasn’t all that different from a regular diaper. “Sometimes if you’re really good, I’ll even let you orgasm. Just not inside me.” Her voice went down a notch. “Not that you were doing that too often anyways…”
“I’m forry,” he mumbled behind the pacifier. “I”m fo forry.” The world was spinning. His own brain was moving through pudding.
“Looks like that naptime bottle is really kicking in,” his mommy said, giving the front of his diaper one last pat. “But you don’t need to say sorry. I already told you. I forgive you. I forgive you, but I can’t trust you. So Mommy’s going to be keeping a super close eye on you from now on.”
“Nmmph.” He barely had the strength to enunciate around the bulb in his mouth. Easier to suck on it, or just be still.
“We’re really going to have to get you a crib,” she said. “But you can take your nap on the floor. Dumb little diaper boys don’t care where they sleep, do they?” She unfastened his restraints and pulled him up to his feet. “Then when you wake up, Mommy will change you, and we can start playing alllll over again.”
“Pfffs,” Daniel tried to say.
“Please?” Jane asked. “Is that what you’re trying to say?”
His head filled with rocks, Daniel nodded.
“Tell you what.” She pointed to the plain white door. Save for the nob, it blended in with the nursery wall. If you can make it out of the nursery, I’ll give you your big boy pants back. I’ll let you walk away. You’ll be free.”
The surge of adrenaline that coursed into his veins was damn near godlike. Muscles pumping he thundered ahead towards the door, tromping and stomping like an angry elephant.
But even the most adrenaline will only get so far when your bloodstream is overloaded with sedatives. Within a few steps, tromping and stomping became shuffling. Then shuffling slowed to standing. He hadn’t even made it halfway.
It was a small mercy that he hadn’t. The ground rushing up at him was foam and brightly colored instead of gray and concrete. He’d feel the impact he’d made less when he woke up. He pushed himself up one last time to all fours and made to crawl.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Mommy Jane said, her white shoes were right by him. Daniel’s eyes were blurring. He couldn’t see her face; just her shoes up to the hemline of her dress. The rest was all cloudy. “I said walk. Not crawl. If you can’t be a big boy and walk, you don’t deserve it.”
Daniel’s muscles seemed to agree. Trembling, then shaking as he splayed out onto the nursery floor.
“Awww,” he heard Mommy Jane coo just before he lost consciousness. “Just like an angel.”
I’m sorry that we haven’t conversed in some time. I’ve finally grown up enough that I understand why you and Father were so concerned. It’s gotten to the point where I agree with you.
The only thing I’m ever going to change about Daniel are his diapers, and I’ve learned to accept that. I could explain how I came to this revelation and what I’ve done about it, but I think it would be easier to show you.
Enclosed is a very special video that sums up the state of my marriage and life at this point in time. It is the first of many, I assure you.
Thank you for everything.
P.S. On a related note, I’ve stumbled into a new business venture that has proven quite lucrative. I’m proud to say. I’ve got multiple clients in need of babysitting, and Daniel is starting to associate with a better class of people as a result: The kind of people who don’t cheat on their wives.
In a relatively short time, those checks you’ve been sending will be unnecessary. I’ve got one baby that has started to pay for himself.
I just viewed the footage you showed me and your father and I are surprised and delighted. While it is not what we would have hoped for you, we are both proud of your assertiveness (and if I’m reading the context right) entrepreneurial spirit. A real lemons to lemonade situation you’ve made for yourself.
Did you know that my great great great aunt was a madame? There’s an elementary school out west named after her, it turns out. The difference between sex worker and socialite depends largely on who sees you doing what with the money you earn. Food for thought.
P.S. Mother’s Day is coming up. What do you think about joining us at the Country Club for brunch? Your Father and I insist that you bring the baby, too. Not just in a diaper though. Maybe something like what you had him wearing in the video. I’m sure the neighbors would think it hilarious. (The End)