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Benjy

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Benjy last won the day on June 12 2012

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  1. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    Conclusion. Part 7 Aunty Ann is very loving and I love her to bits as a Nanny. She is milder than Mummy but loves using humiliation to put me in my place. All impact punishments are done by Mummy as Aunty Ann finds them ‘uncomfortable’. I can smell myself. Mummy says the smell is normal for sissy boys to smell of pooh and pee. Mommy told me she likes the smell around me. It reminds her every day that I am her baby boy. The laxatives that I am given, along with the magnesia tablets and the vast volume of liquids ensures every nappy is fully used. “How is the story coming, stinky pants?” Aunty Ann asks, peering over my shoulder. “Very good Aunty,” I reply. She points to the half finished bottle by my laptop. “Why haven’t you finished that? You know the rules? Do you want me to tell Mummy?” She is cross. Hastily I pick up the bottle and start drinking. I don’t like the taste of urine but I am constantly told that a good sissy drinks everything from his Mummy. Soon the bottle is empty and Ann smiles. “Good Boy! There are two more bottles in the fridge of your Mummy’s pee to finish and she will be very happy to know that you have been such a good boy. Now, on the changing table with you.” When Aunty Ann opens the nappy, my erect penis greets her. I know I am in trouble. “Sorry Baby,” Ann holds her smart phone up and captures the moment. I do feel humiliated. Caroline will get a photo of my erection and dirty nappy. Talking out loud, she taps out a text message. “Naughty baby disrespects his nanny while mummy is away.” “Send.” “There!” Ann waved a finger in my face. “That will get you a sore bottom when Mummy comes home. Now wank yourself so I can continue.” Aunty Ann waited with a tissue while I masturbated. Eventually I was able to ask: “Can I cum Aunty?” “Yes Baby.” Ann held the tissue under my cock as semen dribbled and spurted out. “Dirty Boy,” she said, shaking her head. “if you were a real man, you would be making love to a woman with that, not getting turned on by sitting in your own shit. Now, open up…. There, chew and swallow.. Good Boy,” Ann beamed as I swallowed the tissue, along with all my semen. She cleaned me up and re-nappied me a bulky terry towelled nappy with gauze liner. “if you finish a bottle of Mummy’s special drinkies, I will let you back on your laptop so that you can finish that story.” Aunty Ann opened the small nursery fridge and held out a 500 ml flask with the amber liquid. “Warm or Cold?” Oh, I was in favour. To be given the choice. “Warm please Nanny.” The microwave buzzed as my drink rotated on the turntable. “Crawl to the playpen call me when you have finished your drink.” Ann held open the playpen door and I flopped over on my back. “Baby.. tell me a truth?” Ann asked. “I love you Aunty and I love Mummy,” I said, feeling euphoric and happy. ----*---- Mummy comes home from skiing tomorrow and I am very excited. We have been married now for 4 years and I still adore and worship the ground she walks on. I promised to have this story finished for when she gets back. Much has happened in the last four years. Mother has got old and moved into a home. We go and see her occasionally but she doesn’t recognise us. But she does find it funny when Caroline shows her that I am in a nappy. We sold off the Estate management business and Aunty Ann moved in as a full time housekeeper. I used to do the majority of the chores in the house but Caroline said that if my brain was kept empty, I would focus more on my ‘sissy’ side, and less on making household decisions. Caroline has decided not to have a baby, a real baby. We had a long talk about it and Caroline asked me for my truthful feeling about having an infant in the household. I had to tell her that I would be jealous of a child taking attention away from me. She was honest with me too and doubted she could rear a child with her existing mental scars. However, my selfish admission cost me 7 days of punishment. I go for a long walk every day, mainly with Aunty Ann, but sometimes Caroline comes too. Caroline and Aunty Ann are very insistent that I stay healthy with regular exercise. What is my life like now? Well, I have routine but as a full time Sissy my life and treatment is very dynamic. Not a day goes passed without Caroline thinking up another devious way of making me suffer as her charge. A big part of our interaction is Caroline’s strap on harness and over the months and years I have learnt to ‘bite the pillow’ as Mummy drilled me with various diameters of dildos. Sometimes I am punished with ‘infant status’ for 3 or 7 days, depending on the severity of my offence and then I do not exercise. I am hobbled so that I cannot walk, only crawl. Caroline wants me de-sensitized during these sessions and I must wear a heavy rubber mask that blocks out vision and sound. It is very boring and sometimes I feel I am going mad. I am deprived from my Love and that hurts more than anything in the world. Of course I welcome the care I receive, especially when my soiled nappy is changed or I am fed but there is no interaction. Just left alone for a few more hours until the next feed or the next change. Caroline says it is part of my punishment that I am not beaten during ‘infant status’. The objective is to deprive me of love, not promote it. ----*---- Caroline gave me a long sensual kiss when she came home. “I have missed you Baby,” she said lovingly. “I missed you too Mummy.” “Have you been good when I’ve been away?” I looked guilty and cast my eyes down. “No Mummy. Aunty Ann was cross with me for showing her my stiffy when she changed my nappy.” Caroline feigned shock and pinched my earlobe. “Time for a Truth or Dare. Give me a truth Baby.” I turned on the waterworks and started crying. “I want to suffer under you tonight. Please make me hurt?” Caroline stroked his cheek. “Oh Yes, my Darling. I have been away from my Baby for a week.. a lifetime.. I promise you, you will suffer tonight.” “Your turn Mummy. Give me a truth.” Caroline smiled. “That’s easy. I was staying in a chalet with 5 single men and every night, I slept alone in my bed and dreamt of you. I would count down the days when I would be homeward bound.” ----*----
  2. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    Part 6. “Come,” she beckoned. Her tone was milder now and she held my hand as I found my feet again. I was grateful at last that I was being allowed off the bed from that uncomfortable position. I was hurting, cold and shivering. She led me into the bathroom. Caroline gripped the nappy and plastic pants and pulled them down. “Step out,” she ordered. “Gosh, that is wet. You must have had a lot of Cola’s at the reception,” she added wryly. I winced as she touched the back of my leg. “Feels hot still. It must be painful?” I nodded. “Time for a bath. You smell.” Holding my hand, she led me to the hub. With shock I realized She had filled the bath to the brim with cold water. I hesitated and looked at her imploringly. “Please Mummy,” I begged. Caroline’s expression did not change. “Get in,”she ordered. “Please Mummy, don’t make me…” Caroline disappeared into the Nursery and returned with a riding crop in her hand. Like lighting, her arm flashed and the crop bit into my buttocks. I yelped with pain. “Get in and lie down. I won’t tell you again.” The crop was waved under my nose. Shivering with fear and cold, I stepped in and sat down in the freezing water. I could now feel my teeth chattering. Caroline pulled up a chair and sat down. “Honeymoon is over I am afraid my Darling.” She soaped a sponge and started on my back. “Today you behaved very badly and you have been punished for it. That punishment is over.” The sponge moved around to my chest arms and stomach. “Stand,” she ordered. Hastily the soaped sponge was passed over my groin and buttocks. I cried out as she rubbed the abused area at the back of my thighs. “Painful?” She was smiling as our eyes made contact. “Finished,” she beamed. “Sit down in the water and rinse off, then you can stand again.” As quick as possible I did as ordered and rose, grateful to be out of the cold water. Caroline picked up the back scrub.. I long wooden brush with real pig bristles on. “What are you going to do with that?” I asked anxiously. She ignored the question. I would be told later that it is Mummy’s business and not up to Baby Peter to question her actions. “Turn around and face the wall. Now put your hands on the wall and keep them there. There will be consequences if you do not. Do not turn around and do not look at me. Understood?” “Yes Mummy,” trying to keep the trembling out of my voice. I assumed the required position. I squealed with pain as the bristles rubbed against the tender red skin at the back of my thighs. “Please Mummy..oh Mummy, please stop!” I implored. “You can make as much noise as you want. Your Mother and Ann have left. No one will hear you.” Suddenly a slap as she landed the flat side of the brush on my buttocks. It was the shock that caused the scream to leave my throat. Caroline stopped to light a cigarette. I heard the lighter then the first drag and the pacing behind me. Abruptly I could feel and smell her hot breath on my ear. “Truth or Dare?” Caroline whispered. “Why don’t you ask me what really turns me on?” I screamed as she rubbed the bristles over the burning patch of my legs. “What’s turning me on right now, right at this moment?” “I would never lie to you my darling,” Caroline spoke softly in my ear. She continued to bounce the back scrub bristles on the raw skin while her other hand caressed my engorged cock. Tears were rolling down my cheeks now as pain and humiliation had their desired effect. “Ask the question. You have to ask the question.” “Mummy,” I gasped. “What is turning you on? What is really turning you on.”? “What really turns me on is your suffering, humiliation and your debasement. I get a rush seeing you suffer, but then you knew that, didn’t you?” She did not expect an answer. “What you promised me in the email and the contract, remember? Paragraph 3. I promise to satisfy all and any of Caroline’s desires even though it might result in my own physical pain, humiliation or debasement.” “My turn now Mummy to give you a truth.” “Please Darling, go ahead.” I felt her hand on mine. “Turn around and look at me. Tell me your truth?” “I don’t care if I suffer because I trust you more than anything or anybody in the world.” I said sincerely. Caroline kissed me and helped me out of the bath. “Come, let’s get you into a clean nappy. You have an appointment under my bottom now.”
  3. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    Part 5. The wedding had been a quiet affair. Held at a registry office in West London and then a small reception back at my apartment. On my side the guests were Mother of course, two aunts and their husbands, and my secretary Ann from the Housing Trust I ran. Caroline had no siblings, but three girlfriends and her Mother came. During the reception, Mother’s solicitor turned up with some papers to sign. Caroline and I joined them in the dining room for the improvised meeting. “This is my wedding gift to you both,” Mother beamed at us. “These papers will legally transfer the trustee function from myself to Caroline so that your inheritance can continue to be managed properly.” With a flourish, she signed two copies and passed them over for Caroline and myself to sign. The solicitor acted as witness. Mother had now officially unloaded responsibility for me onto my new wife. The party continued and although Caroline and Mother did not approve of me drinking alcohol, they couldn’t watch me all the time and surreptitiously I must have poured myself a couple of stiff whiskies with Cola on top. My downfall that day was that I got into a heated discussion with Ann about some builders we had hired who were pestering us for more money. “If we don’t transfer the money on Monday, they will stop work.” Ann informed me. I am afraid the alcohol got the better of me. “Damn them and damn you! This wouldn’t have happened if you had gone your job properly.” “That is outrageous and unfair Peter,” I could see she was upset. “As for the builders,” I shouted. “Tell them to f*ck off!” You could have heard a pin drop as silence descended on the room. Every pair of eyes turned in my direction “Peter!” Mother shouted. “How dare you swear like that!” In a moment Caroline’s dark face appeared before me and my left ear was grabbed and twisted painfully. She dragged me towards a corner of the room and pointed at the armchair. “Drop your trousers and bend over.” Panicking and shaking with fear I looked around. Everyone was staring at the unfolding drama. Ann had her phone out. “Caroline…” She slapped my face. “What is my name?” “Mummy,” I said softly. She snatched at my belt buckle and deftly unfastened my trousers, wrenching them to my ankles. I heard a couple of gasps as the entire room now could see my very wet terry towelled nappy and clear plastic pants were now on full view to the room. “I won’t tell you again,” Caroline said ominously. “Bend over that chair”. Caroline disappeared from view and reappeared with a baby’s dummy in her hand. “Open Baby,” Caroline ordered. The dummy was pressed against my lips until they opened and then thrust inside my mouth. “That stays in until your punishment is over, understand?” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Caroline’s mother holding her mouth with shock as she watched what was unfolding before her. Ann was giggling behind her hand and was now holding up a phone to record this. “Everyone.” Caroline clicked a glass as she addressed the guests. “As you can see and from what you have all heard, we have had a breakdown of domestic behaviour and Peter is to be punished.” Caroline lightly slapped my padded plastic bottom. “As you can see, Peter suffers from nocturnal incontinence but I choose to keep him in nappies during the day because that is what he wants.” A low murmur rose from the room and I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. “In fact,” Caroline added, looking directly at me. “He is in nappies all the time. 24 hours a day and seven days a week. To all intents and purposes, he is kept as a baby because in this marriage he wants it and I want it.” Caroline crossed the room and picked up my Cola glass. She sniffed it and grimaced. “As I suspected. This naughty boy has been drinking alcohol and he knows he is not allowed to. Everyone can see that it does not agree with him.” Aunt Mertie hobbled forward and peered at my bottom, before looking at Caroline. “He’s very wet. I think he needs a change?” She broke the ice. Giggles and laughter could be heard rolling around the room. Caroline smiled. “Later, but now he needs to be punished.” Caroline pointed to the door. “Go to your Nursery. Undress and wait, standing, by your bed. I will be along shortly.” She was in a dark mood. I had ruined her wedding day and was not going to be allowed to forget it. I shuffled off, the trousers around my ankles hobbling my movements but were meant to humiliate me further. The Nursery was in fact one of the smaller spare bedrooms in my apartment that Caroline had decided would be my room. It had been modelled on the attic room I had at Mother’s house. In fact, the furniture were almost exact copies. Caroline being keen to carry on the austerity theme that Mother had introduced. Perhaps the only difference was the Sluice that had been installed in the en-suite bathroom. I undressed, put my clothes away in the wardrobe and almost naked, waited in the cold room for more than an hour. I wasn’t allowed to close the window nor was I allowed to sit down. I was well aware of the little blinking red light of the webcam looking down on me. My nappy was overloaded and urine started to run down my legs. I could hear the guests slowly leaving. They all seemed to have got over the shock of the earlier drama as loud laughter and conversation could be heard coming from the hallway. I could hear Caroline and Mother clearing away the plates and glasses and knew it wouldn’t be long now. The door opened and Caroline, Mother and Ann entered. Caroline was holding her hairbrush and Mother reached up behind the door and brought down the paddle. They all looked down and saw the wet patch on the floor around my feet. “No wonder it smells of pee in here,” Ann waved a hand in front of her face. Caroline pointed at the dummy that I had left on the chest of drawers. “Why is that not in your mouth?” “Sorry Mummy, I forgot.” “Pick it up and give it to Aunty Ann.” Caroline ordered. I did as bade, and handed the dummy to Ann. “Now ask Aunty Ann, very politely, if you can have your dummy, will you Baby?” “Aunty Ann, please can I have my dummy?” Laughing, Ann held out the dummy to my lips and I opened and started sucking immediately. Caroline stripped the bed of pillow, duvet and bottom sheet until only the rubber-sheeted mattress remained. “Lie face down with your legs wide open.” As the bed was narrow, the position was uncomfortable as my knees were unsupported. When Caroline and Mother took up positions each side of the bed, I began to feel very vulnerable. “This will probably be the last time you will get to discipline your son.” Caroline spoke to her Mother in Law. “I would be grateful if he remembers the real matriarch when he receives this spanking.” Mother brought the paddle down on the skin just below the plastic pants. “Oww,” I cried. It hurt. Mother leant over the bed. “You were very rude and unkind to Ann earlier. She has handed in her resignation because of your behaviour. She has agreed to watch your chastisement.” A spanking delivered powerfully against the back of the thighs is just as painful as receiving it on the buttocks. Mother kept on beating me on my right leg until she got tired. By the time she had finished, I was crying with real tears running down my cheeks. On reflection, the tears were not from the pain, they were from the intense humiliation. Then it was Caroline’s turn. Her hairbrush landed on my left leg and landed again and again until I was sobbing uncontrollably. When it was over, Ann crouched down and retrieved the dummy which had fallen on the floor during the chastisement. She held it to my quivering lips. “There you are Baby,” she said tenderly. “I am going now, but I hope to see you soon?” I looked up at her. “Sorry Aunty Ann. I didn’t mean to be rude to you.” Ann smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “Be a good boy now for your mother, won’t you?” I nodded. “Bye”. Ann and Mother left the room together. I lay on the bed as the intense burning pain at the back of my legs gradually ebbed while I could hear Caroline running the bath. ----*----
  4. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    Part 4. Caroline came to my room that night. I was cosy and sleeping under my thick duvet when she shook my shoulder. “Wake up Darling, Mummy wants to play Truth or Dare.” She leant over and kissed me. I could smell cigarettes and alcohol on her breath. I had been sent to bed early and lay in bed as the ‘adults’ drank wine and talked. I could occasionally hear the sound of Caroline’s loud laugh drifting up though the house before I eventually fell asleep. She was a little tipsy. I knew what was expected of me. “My turn?” I asked. Caroline nodded. “No lying, OK?” She laughed. “Mummy never lies,” she whispered, kissing me again. “What really turn’s Mummy on?” “Mummy wants Baby to eat her. I want you to make love to Mummy with your mouth, lips, tongue. I am so horny.” I slid down the bed as she hitched up her skirt and sat astride my stomach, her naked bottom now facing me. As she squirmed backwards, her feet and ankles moved under my shoulders and her buttocks descended across my face. Blackness enveloped my senses and my nose ground into her anus. Juices were flowing freely out of her now and Caroline began to grind her vulva down onto my frantic mouth. Her smell and taste was strong and earthy. All day in the car and no shower yet. But I worshipped her, every part of her and I couldn’t get enough of her. My mouth was filling with her passion and I swallowed, nibbling the tiny button that excited so her so much. As the seed of a climax swelled inside her, I felt the pulsing of her vagina on my lips. A primeval groan escaped her lips as she orgasmed. Full weight and power from her thighs squeezed and tightened on my face. All senses were completely shut off. No night, sound, smell... Nothing as my lungs struggled for air. Relief! I gulped huge breaths as the pressure eased but with my nose still buried between her cheeks, I felt the poppers on my onesie being ripped open, along with the tapes of my sodden nappy. Sweaty hot palms gripped my swollen penis and I felt the tip in her mouth. Caroline’s lips and tongue stimulated the glands and my hips buckled as I shot my ejaculation into her mouth. She stayed there, draining me of every drop before unmounting and turning. Her mouth descended towards mine and I knew what was expected of me. I opened wide as she transferred my semen into my own mouth. Breathing heavily, she smiled as I swallowed. “Truth or Dare?” she said. I nodded. “What are you missing?” A blanket of shame fell over me but I had to answer. “Punishment Mummy,” I whispered. “I am a bad boy and you need to beat me.” Caroline combed my hair with her fingers. “Patience Darling Boy. We have our whole lives in front of us and I promise I will have many opportunities to give you what you need to get you back on the straight and narrow again. Understood?” ----*----
  5. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    Part 3. My mother, Ursula Smyth-Jones took Caroline upstairs to the principle guest bedroom. I could see that Caroline was impressed by the king sized bed, luxurious fittings and en-suite bathroom. “I am sure you will be comfortable here,” Mother smiled, already warming to my future wife. I lifted Caroline’s heavy suitcase onto the luggage rack and placed mine on the floor next to it. “Come,” Ursula said to Caroline. “Let me show you where Peter sleeps.” My heart fell. Mother was taking Caroline up to the second floor where I used to spend my punishment time. Mother turned and barked at me. “Stop dawdling Peter and bring your case.” Caroline was smiling at my humiliation but I followed the ladies up the narrow stairs to the eaves. Temperature was lower here, as central heating had not been installed. Decoration was basic at best, with bare board floors and plain walls. I imagined back in the late 1700’s, the housekeeper and other staff would have lived up here. Off the landing, were 3 doors. “I moved Peter up here when he was seventeen because his revolting and child-like habits were contaminating the first floor with a smell of urine.” Caroline smirked at the look of embarrassment on my face. This is his room.” Mother opened the door and gestured Caroline inside. The room was large and clean, and very bright due to the skylight immediately above the bed. The bare wooden floorboards had a scattering of Old Persian threadbare rugs. As on the landing, the decoration was simple, just plain whitewashed walls. The large En-suite bathroom had an old enamel tub, lavatory, and hand basin. A single iron bed was against the back wall, with only a rubber covered thin mattress. Other items of furniture included a narrow wardrobe and a small chest of drawers. A three layered stainless steel trolley was parked next to the bed, fully laden with nappies, both disposable and towelled. The top shelf contained all the paraphernalia associated with full personal care. Ursula pointed at the bed. “I had the legs extended to make changing nappies easier on the back.” Caroline pointed at a web cam above the door. “Oh I had that installed years ago so I could try and stop the masturbation. You can download the app. To you smart phone so you can watch him too.” Caroline looked at me. “Now that would be a good idea. Peter, are you wet?” I crimsoned over. “Yes Mummy.” “Drop your trousers and lie on the bed,” she ordered. Mother laughed. “You have him in nappies during the day now?” Caroline opened the poppers of the onesie I was wearing. “Yes, he is now in nappies 24/7, aren’t you Peter?” I nodded. Caroline ripped the tapes open and pulled the front of the nappy down. Mother could now see my genitalia, completely devoid of pubic hair.” Mother was shaking her head in disbelief. “He is looking more like a baby now as he grows older.” Mother said. Deftly, Caroline wiped my loins with wet wipes before slotting a clean disposable under my bottom. “What about pooping?” Mother asked. “In his nappy, normally when he gets up in the morning, but I am trying to train him to move his bowels mid-morning, as I can’t face a dirty nappy until I have had at least two cups of coffee. With his current early morning elimination, the result is a smelly house while he completes his morning chores.” “Well Peter, you are a lucky boy having Caroline agreeing to look after you.” Ursula said as Caroline fastened up the onesie. She bent down and planted a kiss on my lips. “And I love my big baby boy, don’t I Peter?” “Yes Mummy, and I love you too,” I said. “Peter, are you my baby husband or my real man husband?” I felt ashamed but answered. “I am your baby husband Mummy. I am not a real man.” Caroline looked up at Mother. “The most important part about our relationship is the truth. Under no circumstances do we lie to each other, do we Peter?” “No Mummy, we don’t lie and we always tell the truth.” Caroline looked up at Mother. “Peter knows he will never penetrate me. If I ever want a child, I might use his semen or I might use a surrogate. But he will never be a ‘man’ in this relationship. I will never involve him in decisions or other grown up activity. I will control everything from the clothes he wears to the food he eats.” Mother smiled. “I am so happy his life is finally in order.” ----*---- (tbc)
  6. Funishment (DM/LB) - Part 2 UP!

    Lovely. Please keep up the good work.
  7. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    Part 2. Caroline was about to get me to admit to something that must have been deep in my subconscious. Part of me wanted to scream and deny, another part wanted to avoid conflict and yet another part wanted me to jump in with both feet and finally admit that I wanted…. “I want a Mummy,” I whispered. “Speak up,” Caroline barked. “I want a Mummy,” I repeated, louder this time. Deflated, I stayed in my chair as Caroline stood and put her coat on. “I am going home. Before I go to bed tonight, I want to receive from you an email titled: ‘Why Caroline would be a Good Mummy for me and why Peter would be a Good Baby for Caroline.’ Will you do that for me?” She leant over and lifted my chin up so our eyes met. She was so close that I could smell her perfume. “Yes Caroline.” “Caroline?” She questioned. “Yes Mummy,” I corrected myself. “Remember to tell the truth?” I nodded. She leant forward and kissed me on the lips. ----*---- I slaved over that email, knowing that my destiny depended on it. Panicking, I started to stress as to when Caroline’s bedtime was or whether she would stay up until the email arrived. What did she want to read? How much detail? I fired up an empty Word document and started typing. ‘Why Caroline would be a Good Mummy for Peter and why Peter would be a Good Baby for Caroline.’ I will start by telling you a little bit about my childhood. When I was a young boy, just prior to puberty, I started having strange and disturbing dreams. In the dream, I must have been a baby, as I was always wearing nappies and rubber pants. Always sitting on the carpet. I would be in my mother’s dressing room, at her feet while she put on her underwear, bra and stockings. She smiled as I looked up at her, marvelling at her beauty. In my dreams I was so in love with my mother. In other dreams, there were other beautiful women there, all in their underwear and I was always at their feet. They were always kind and gentle and I found these very vivid dreams extremely comforting. As I entered puberty, the intensity of the dreams increased. There was more heat radiating from my loins and sometime in my twelfth year I had my first nocturnal emission. However, real life was not so comforting. My mother was using nappies occasionally. Not to contain my bedwetting, but mainly to humiliate and shame me. At weekends she made me wear them during the day and especially if I had friends coming around. I was beaten often. Sometimes over her knee, other times kneeling by the bed with my face pressed into the damp bottom sheet. It was not all abuse. She could be very loving and kind and often would tell me that she loved me more than anything in the world. If I had a bad dream, I would be allowed in her bed and I would fall asleep at her breast. I remember wanting to make her so happy, make her so proud of me. I wanted to be something, someone and I wanted always to be loved and cherished. When I didn’t make her happy, when I was bad, I needed her punishment. I needed her chastisement, retribution and her discipline. She would beat me with words, with a hand, with a paddle and even with a cane. When I was punished, I was forgiven with love. Caroline is a special woman who is strong enough to cope with Peter’s needs. She will make sure He knows his station in life by taking control and moulding him into the partner she wants. She will control and direct every aspect of his life, 24 hours a day and 365 days a year. Peter is prepared to enter into a life of complete servitude and submission. About Caroline: we have been together for less hours than I have fingers on my hands. She is totally focused on what she wants and knows how to get it. As a ‘Mummy’ , Caroline would provide excellent care and direction that Peter needs. About Peter: He knows he cannot continue without a Mummy to control and own him. All his worldly goods will be laid at her feet if she takes ownership of him. Already she has been places in my mind I didn’t know existed. I know I can show the required devotion to ensure she is firm and resolute in my future guidance. I waited up for two hours after I had pressed the send button but no reply or acknowledgement was returned. In fact, I grew increasingly nervous as the days past with no contact. It was exactly seven days later that the doorbell sounded. “Hello Peter,” Caroline pushed past me and waited while I closed the door. “We must talk.” I followed her into the kitchen. “I would like a glass of red wine, do you have anything decent?” I opened an Amarone and poured two glasses. “Did I say you could drink alcohol?” Silence hung in the air, as I looked awkward. She pointed at the glass. “Leave it on the table. I might drink it later. Pour yourself a glass of milk.” “ I don’t like milk. I drink tea. And I never drink anything after seven, otherwise.. “ The words dried on my tongue as Caroline walked calmly around the table and slapped me twice around the face. Not particularly hard but enough to shock. “Dear Boy, please never answer me back again.” Caroline opened the fridge and handed me the full-unopened carton. “Now pour yourself a glass.” Nervously I did as ordered. “Now drink it, drink it all.” I obliged. When the glass was empty, she reached over and refilled it. “Finish that one and then finish the whole litre.” The glass filled and emptied three more times before the carton was empty. Caroline lit up a cigarette and watched silently as I suffered with the taste and the vast volume. “Your Email was received and received well, I might add. I would be delighted to be your Mummy. However, you will have to sign the contract of guardianship so that you understand the true nature of our union. It will involve us getting engaged and married.” My mouth gaped open as I listened. “Cat got your tongue?” “Thank you Mummy,” I croaked. My mouth felt dry. “Can you please obtain an invitation for us both with your mother so that she can meet her future daughter in law?” ----*----
  8. Truth or Dare (part 7 Conclusion)

    yeah.. I hate smoking too. But it is part of her character, I'm afraid. However, I appreciate the feedback and I will try and leave out the smoking further into the story.
  9. Part 1. “You go first,” Caroline smiled. “Remember, I want complete honesty.” My very attractive, 24 year old, black-haired date smiled and folded her arms across her large chest, enjoying my embarrassment. This was new to me, Truth or Dare on a first date. I remained silent while the waiter cleared the plates from the table. I felt my heart beating in my chest but decided to take the plunge. After all, my Match.com dates never result in a repeat meeting and I knew I wouldn’t see Caroline again. “I used to wet the bed and my mother would beat me for it.” Caroline’s eyebrows rose. “How old were you?” She asked. I thought she would be shocked, even appalled but nothing showed on her face. “What do you mean?” “When was the last time she beat you?” Her tone filled with impatience. “When I was seventeen.” My reply hung in the air. Across the table, Caroline kept her face impassive while she absorbed this news. I knew the next question was coming. “Do you still wet the bed?” Burning red but managing a smile, I waved a finger. “Ah.. No, it’s your turn now.” Caroline smiled and drummed her fingers on the table cloth. “When I was eight, I was sexually abused by my father and when I was thirteen, I was raped by him.” I sat there shocked and stared at her. There was no emotion or shame in her voice. My first instinct was that she was telling a joke in extremely bad taste. But how could anyone lie about such a thing? “That’s dreadful!” I muttered, finding it hard to hold eye contact with her. “How long did it go on for?” Caroline remained silent for a few seconds before smiling and picking up the desert menu. “Ok, game over. I really fancy some Crème Brulee, don’t you?” ----*---- Two weeks later she took me by surprise while I was preparing my evening meal. Neither of us had committed to another date and a handshake had finished the first date. However, she had asked me for my address on the pretext of sending me an invite to some party she was having in the future. I had offered email, but she waved that off, saying she found a real letter far more personal and acceptable. My apartment in West London has 24 hour concierge service, and the doorman would never let anyone up if I had not been contacted first. When the doorbell rang, I naturally thought it was a neighbour, after a cup of sugar or a helping hand. It took a second to recognise her after opening the door. “Caroline!” I exclaimed. “What a surprise!” Nervously, I wiped my hands on my apron and an awkward silence fell between us. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?” She finally asked, a smile lighting up her face. I took her through to the kitchen and poured her a glass of wine while I finished off the meal. There was enough for two. After I had served up the lamb curry and rice on the table she appeared. I had that feeling that she hadn’t actually been solely in the bathroom. After a few pleasantries over the delicious meal, she rested her knife and fork and looked up at me. “Truth or Dare. We never did finish it, did we?” Caroline raised her eyebrows in question. “It’s my turn to ask the question?” The food was feeling heavy in my stomach and I had a sinking feeling. I nodded in acquiesce. “So, I will repeat, do you still wet the bed?” There was no sympathetic smile or gentle tone. Something deep inside me compelled a truthful answer as I had nothing to lose. “Yes.” Caroline didn’t appear surprised. “And what about your mother, do you still see her?” I nodded. “She lives in Devon, but comes to stay occasionally. And of course, I go down there on a regular basis.” Caroline looked puzzled. “But the abuse you suffered. Surely you would have ostracized her?” I went pale and looked down at my plate. “She is a powerful woman,” I mumbled. “But also she is the trustee of my inheritance.” Understanding showed in Caroline’s eyes. “Ah, she controls the purse strings; a powerful force indeed.” I got up to clear the table but she smacked my hand away from her plate. “Sit down Peter, they can wait. We still have plenty to talk about.” She produced a packet of cigarettes and lighter and lit one up. I hated smoking and stared at her. “Hope you don’t mind.” I didn’t feel it was a question. “No,” I mumbled. Something compelled me to surrender. Normally I would have objected strongly. “Now,” she said, flicking ash onto her dinner plate. “Tell me the truth about the current relationship you have with your mother.” “What do you mean?” For the first time, Caroline raised her voice slightly. “I don’t like lying. And lying is telling a lie and not telling the truth, the whole story. Peter, stop lying to me will you? You are 34 years old and you have told me that she stopped beating you for wetting the bed when you were seventeen. So how do both of you handle the bed wetting now?” I was stunned. My heart was hammering in my chest and I felt my eyes water over. I stood. “I will show you.” Caroline followed me into the bathroom where I opened one of the wall cabinets. She was greeted by the sight of neat rows of disposable nappies and folded plastic pants, along with Johnson’s baby powder and zinc oxide cream. I felt weak and sat on the bath rim. If she wanted the truth, well, she was going to get the truth. “It was on my seventeenth birthday that I was woken by my mother who was holding a cup of tea in one hand and a wooden paddle in the other. Then the bed clothes would be pulled back for the normal bed inspection. She didn’t really have to inspect the bed. I was wet every morning but the inspection was just there to shame me. After breakfast, we got in a taxi and went to a clinic in Harley Street where they specialized in incontinence and since that day I have worn nappies every night to protect the bed.” Caroline looked at me. “Why the tears?” I was crying. Feeling so vulnerable and helpless. So humiliated after admitting my shameful secret. “Are you missing your Mummy?” Caroline was smiling now. Was she mocking me? Back at the dinner table, she lit another cigarette and waved at the opposite chair for me to sit. I obeyed. “Remember,” she waved a finger at me. “No lying now. We are still playing Truth or Dare.” Well, one of us was, I suppose. I nodded in agreement. Why did you join Match.com?” “I wanted a partner, maybe a wife,” I blurted out, perhaps a little bit too fast. I jumped as Caroline slapped her hand on the table. “What have I said about lying?” Again, that raised voice. She tapped her neck with one hand. “I have had it with men lying. Peter, you are not allowed to lie to me.” I was frightened and somewhat confused and didn’t reply. Caroline eased up and took a deep drag of the cigarette. “Alright,” she said softly. “I will make it easy for you. Are you looking for a partner or a mummy? Tell the truth now?” ----*----
  10. Wife In Charge

    Please keep this going
  11. Raping Excuses

    Lovely story. Looking forward to more
  12. Raping Excuses

    great Fulldiaper. Please keep up the good work.. Will you continue this story?
  13. Raping Excuses

    Good job. Please keep it going. I can see Micheal failing an underpants inspection and ending up in diapers.
  14. Practice Makes Perfect

    Come on. Please continue!!!!!
  15. Bad Husband, Better Baby

    this story has not lost direction at all. Poor writers such as myself have a lot to learn about plot planning as exhibited by Elfy. I am sure Elfy has planned an ending to this story but not before all scenarios have been visited. You don't have to be 'gay' to enjoy the sex scenes that some readers have found hard to cope with. Personally, I found them highly erotic. Finally, thanks for sharing. Elfy is a major contributor to the Story Board. Long may that continue.