Aunt Sue

[6firewall6]

As requested.

AUNT SUE

The summer I was sixteen was the most unusual of my life. I was still a bedwetter and my mother's frustration at having to change my bed every morning had often made her threaten to "put me back into diapers."

The turning point came just after the start of summer vacation. Aunt Sue, my mother's older sister, came to stay the night with us. As usual, I woke up soaked and when my mother asked me at breakfast if I had wet during the night. I blushed and nodded, ashamed that she had betrayed my secret to Aunt Sue. "What do you mean, `wet'?" Sue asked. "Oh, he still wets the bed every night. I'm sick of it and I just don't know what to do," Mom said. Sue stared hard at my mother, "The answer is obvious. Put a diaper on him and not just at night either. It works. I know from experience."

My throat went dry. I sat frozen to my chair. Would Mom take Aunt Sue seriously? Were her threats about diapers finally going to come true? I looked at Mom and saw the change in her eyes. In a panic I ran to my room. A few minutes later they came to find me. I sensed something was going to happen by the look of them both. It was Sue who took the lead. She crossed to the stain on my sheets and ran her hand over it.

"This has gone too far, Robbie," she said. "Your mother and I have agreed that you will spend the summer with me so we can work on this little problem."

She brought her pee-smelly hand to my face and holding my head, I was forced to inhale the stale odor.

"Smell it! Get a good whiff!"

She declared she would start immediately and asked my mother to leave the room. Then, she told me to strip nude. She led me to the bathroom where she told me to shave all my body hair from the neck down and then return to my room. I had been proud of the soft hair that had begun to fill in around my cock and balls and I had never shaved my legs before. My hand shook with each stroke of the razor as my masculinity was washed away. I felt fear grip me as I padded down the hall. The look on her face as she waited for me at the door to my room, hands on hips was most stern and impatient. "Bedwetters must be punished," she announced. "First I'm going to give you a spanking and then we'll dress you in something appropriate. Kneel on the floor with your chest on the bed."

It was then I saw the women's things laid out and ready. The first blow from the leather belt caught me full on the rear.

"Owww!" I cried out.

She didn't even pause. A few more strokes and I broke down in tears.

"Please! Please! Aunt Sue stop!"

She didn't stop for a long time. My rear was swollen and on fire when she finally put down the strap and guided me onto the bed, face down. I wept into my pillow, lost in my misery. Suddenly, I felt something press against my rear opening. I started to tense but her voice was harsh and commanding.

"Don't fight me or I'll make it worse for you."

I looked back to see a tampon in her hand just before she pressed the plunger, sending the little plug into me. I groaned with the irritation it caused. "Please, no!" I pleaded when I saw the enema syringe.

Soon it too was inside me, filling my rear cavity with warm water. I could feel the tampon swell, holding the water inside. I writhed my hips with the sensation of it. She made me stand up, ordering me not to lose a drop, and handed me a pair of women's panties to put on. A maxi-pad had been applied where it would cover my rear. After I had pulled these into place, she prepared a pair of pantyhose by gathering one leg expertly, then she kneeled and fitted my toes into it. She fitted both legs up to the knees and then I stood for her to complete the fitting. The panty was tight. It pressed the pad firmly against me and reminded me of the silken folds that now encased my cock. The hosiery felt pleasant against my shaven legs. Sue ran her hands over the taunt nylon.

"And now for your shorts," she announced. "Shorts? But everyone will see the pantyhose!" I said. "Exactly," was all she said before she left me to finish dressing. Mom stared at my stockinged legs when I came into the kitchen.

She looked sharply at Aunt Sue, "Is this necessary?" "It's always necessary. Come visit us in a few weeks and I'll really give you something to stare at!"

Sue came around behind me and patted the pad in my rear. "Humiliation, sister, is what works. That and a little pain, now and then."

Both Mom and I were stunned. "I'll pack for him," Mom finally said to break the silence; her voice was almost a whisper. Sue stopped her. "I've everything he'll need." "But, his clothes...?" "He won't have much use for anything you could pack Afor him. He won't be wearing his normal clothes until I've finished with him."

Mom and I looked at each other. We both felt trapped, in much deeper than anyone had guessed. I felt a little water seep into the feminine pad as we sped along the highway. Aunt Sue often ran her hand over my nylon covered thighs and smiled. I didn't care about the pantyhose until she pulled into a restaurant. Terrified at being seen wearing the hosiery I refused to leave the car.

Aunt Sue would have none of it.

"Don't risk a punishment unless you know what it is. What I gave you this morning was very mild, I assure you."

Red-faced and with trembling hands I slowly opened my door. I looked down at my stockinged legs as Aunt Sue led me by the hand across the parking lot. The reinforced toes of the hosiery showed clearly through the open tops of my sandals and I dreaded the stares I would surely attract. The sanitary pad was getting wetter; it chaffed with every step, leaving me sore. I felt the strange, pleasant sensations of women's clothing and yet I trembled at the thought of my embarrassment at its discovery. So absolute was Aunt Sue's power over me that I never thought of seriously resisting her or running away. I don't know how many people really noticed my strange attire. One woman, behind me in line, stared at my feet and legs for a long time. I felt as if the pantyhose were screaming at everyone and I felt the heat of my blushing face all the time we were inside the restaurant. I was glad when Aunt Sue took me by the hand again to take me back to the car. "So how did you like that little taste of humiliation?" she asked when we were on the highway again.

I felt my face flush again and my mouth was still too dry to speak.

"Cat got your tongue? Well all you need to do for now is listen."

She explained that she considered herself an expert in curing bedwetting. Her latest graduate being the daughter of a neighbor who stayed with her all last summer. She said I was about the same size as the girl and so everything would fit. That sent my imagination into high gear with visions of what it could mean. All along I had thought we were going to Sue's house in another city. However, I began to recognize the road to her cottage on the beach. I started to feel scared all over again. There were lots of cottages nearby and people walked up and down the beach. I looked down at my pantyhose, if I was going to have to wear women's clothing all summer I would be seen. I thought about the restaurant and what she had said in my room at home and realized with sinking heart that she wanted to humiliate me in public. As soon as we got there, she led me inside to what would be my room at which time she told me to strip down to my panties. As I fumbled with my clothes, I watched with suspicion as she spread two large pieces of white flannelette on the bed, one on top of the other. I suddenly realized they were adult sized cloth diapers when she brought out a pair of plastic panties big enough to fit me.

"Are those for me?" I finally croaked out.

It was a silly question but as her hand tugged my panties down she replied seriously. "Of course. You wet the bed last night so you must wear diapers today. And, if you wet tonight you'll wear diapers tomorrow too."

She guided my hips onto the waiting cloth. When she tugged at the tampon string I gasped.

"Good," she said, "I'm sure that will have its effect in time."

Through my spread legs I watched her apply oil and powder. The sweet, innocent fragrance of it filled the room. I was surprised at the thickness of the diapers when she pulled the cloth up between my legs. I really noticed the padding after she pinned it and I obediently stood to let her fit the panties.

She watched me intently as I ran my hands over the taunt plastic. Underneath its protective barrier the soft, warm flannelette actually felt pretty good. She made me lie on my back on the bed. I watched as she took a pair of handcuffs and a wide band of cloth from the dresser. Then she had me sit up while she blindfolded me. Her voice came out of the darkness.

"I want you to think of nothing but being back in diapers. The blindfold will help you concentrate and the handcuffs will make sure you don't try to remove the panties and the diaper or play with yourself."

I lay back and she pulled my arms over my head. I felt the cold steel close around my wrist and heard the rattle of the chain as she passed the other cuff around a bar in the headboard. Then it was locked around my other wrist and a wave of panic ran through me.

"Don't struggle," she said softly, "you'll only make it worse. If you need to relieve yourself do it in the diaper; that's why its there."

The next sound that I heard was the door closing behind her. My mind was full of the feel of the thick diaper and warmth of the panties and the biting hardness of the cuffs. I heard the plastic crackle as I moved my legs, testing the tight padding that held them apart. Indeed, what else could I think of but the humiliation of being diapered because I was a bedwetter. I felt myself grow hard at the unaccustomed warmth and thickness between my legs. I could sense the swelled tampon in my rear passage, violating me causing cramps that would likely bring a bowel movement. The fragrance of baby powder lingered in the room, now more noticeable for my blindness, penetrating my dark and nearly silent world. As time inched along, my arms began to ache from their confinement and the diaper grew damp inside the plastic panties. The coke I had at lunch now began a steady pressure in my bladder and nothing I could do brought any relief. Then my bowels began to really cramp. I brought my knees up but this made my bladder worse so I alternated, hearing with each flex of my legs the crackle of the plastic panties as they served their protective duty. My wrists rubbed on the cuffs. The rattle of chain was frightening in the darkness of my world. Then thirst joined in the chorus my torment as the room began to take the heat of the afternoon. I could feel the sun begin to work its way along my body. I twisted and turned but could not escape its searing breath. I tried to turn over but the cuffs dug into my wrists so badly I quickly lay on my back again, my misery growing steadily. My mind began to dwell on what the summer held in store if Aunt Sue kept her promise to diaper me if I wet the bed. I remembered the restaurant and Sue's refusal to bring any of my clothes. Finally I started to cry, in parched, dry sobs. A few minutes later the door opened. I gulped back another sob, waiting for her hands or words. I felt the bed sag with her weight and then a rubber nipple was pressed against my lips. I sucked greedily at it and found apple juice.

As I suckled, her words came through the darkness, "Good, good, that's a good boy. A few more hours and I'll let you up for dinner. Good news! There will be company coming. You'll meet the girl I trained last summer."

As her words sunk in, I almost stopped sucking. I knew she would not remove the diaper for dinner and deep inside I guessed I wouldn't even be allowed to cover it. As I struggled with the fear of what was to come I also felt my bound wrists and the thick, damp diaper and realized I was powerless to prevent her plans.

Her voice intruded again, "I know you must be ready to pee... and that tampon is probably ready for a little help."

The bottle was pulled away and I whimpered in protest but I heard only her steps fading down the hall. There were sounds of running water from the bathroom and then her returning footsteps. "Don't struggle or you'll stain the bed," she said while parting my legs and flexing my knees up.

I felt her hands at the crotch of my plastic pants, holding them and the diaper aside, the cool air rushing in, soothing. One hand left for a moment, and then I felt something hard and smooth pressing against my anus. In spite of my protest, it slipped right inside. At first it hit the tampon and she wiggled the tube a little. Then warm water began to flow into me, swelling the tampon further as I writhed and moaned in protest of it. She shushed me and sent in a new jet of fluid. Then suddenly it was gone, my diaper and panties replaced and I left alone to struggle with the surge of cramps and fullness she had inflicted. I felt her eyes on me, watching my reaction, knowing what she had done to me. "Robbie, you must understand that my punishing you with a day in diapers doesn't mean anything if I let you keep them dry and comfortable. Only when you're wet or dirty will you come to hate them enough to want to stay out of them by staying dry at night. I had hoped you would have at least wet yourself by now. Well, no matter, the juice contained something to make you pee and the enema had a laxative. I'm sure both will have taken effect by dinner time."

I heard a drawer open and the rattle of chain.

"I'm going to bind your ankles as a punishment. You'll find out why when the laxative works."

I felt bands of leather being passed around each ankle and then my legs brought closer together so they could be fastened; my knees touched side by side.

When she pressed the bottle to my lips again I didn't want it but she said I had to finish it so I did, dreading its promised effects with each swallow. When it was empty a new nipple replaced it. This time it was a pacifier.

"No more noise, Robbie, or you'll wear one of these all the time. Remember that and don't let it out of your mouth."

The door closed again and the silence returned. A few minutes later the enema worked, defeating my struggles to contain it. I cried into the pacifier as I realized how having my ankles kept together made it so much harder to release the storm she had created. As spasm after spasm rocked me my distended bladder forced its way too and all at once I was soiling and wetting furiously, gratefully, until I lay spent and exhausted, sweaty and confused in a new state of blinded misery, aware only of the warm pee and poo that filled my diaper. I lay there for the next few hours, feeling the creeping wetness, the warm putty with its acidic bite and smelling the humiliating odors that escaped from the tight elastic of the panties. I had never known such a feeling of helplessness and despair. Finally she came for me. I moaned my gratitude as my ankles were freed. Then the handcuffs came off. I rubbed my wrists while she moved on to the blindfold. The light blinded me. As I squinted in the brightness I felt her hands exploring my diaper; she hummed approvingly. She had changed for dinner into a soft, feminine dress, her makeup perfect, her perfume washing over me. I looked down to where her hand still cupped my crotch and saw the dark stains that betrayed my wetness.

"Are you going to change me?" I asked.

She just smiled and shook her head, her loveliness making the response even more distressing.

"But, but, dinner," I pleaded in desperation, "you said there will be company; and you're all dressed up!"

I knew my words had fallen on deaf ears when I saw the way she looked at me. Her voice sent a chill down my back. "You are already dressed for dinner. If you would like to cover your diaper, I can let you pick something out."

I started to reply but she gently pressed a finger to my lips.

"If I open that cupboard you must wear something of what it contains. Do you agree to that condition?"

"But what's inside it?" I asked suspiciously. "You'll find out if you ask me to open it, not before. By then it will be too late if you decide you don't like what's in it."

I saw a gleam in her eyes and remembered her reference to last summer's female visitor. Suspicion won out and I shook my head. She looked disappointed for an instant, then she reached beside the bed and brought up a tee shirt.

"Very well. You'll have to wear this instead!"

She was pulling it over my head before I got a look at it. As the baby blue material was rolled down my chest I saw the pink letters emblazoned across the front: "BEDWETTER: UNDER DIAPER PUNISHMENT" My heart seemed to stop as the words burned into my mind. I looked up at her, hoping it was a joke but knowing she was serious. "And on the back it says ASK ME ABOUT MY DIAPER," she said with a laugh, "but people won't have to ask. I've cut it short enough to show off all your baby things."

I looked down and saw she was right. The shirt ended just above the top of my plastic panties.

She led me, still in shock, to the living room. I saw a vinyl pad on the floor by the couch and another on one of the dining room chairs. She told me I was to sit only on the pads just in case my diaper leaked. I took my place by the couch in stunned silence while she continued with dinner.

My spirits sank as I realized what a sight I would make in the tee shirt and diapers with the wetness showing through the plastic pants. I trembled with the humiliation of being seen that way.

Now heavy, wet and full, there was nothing comfortable about my diaper. It hung from its pins at my waist. The diaper, shifting slightly as I moved, spread the warm poo it contained. I smelled its contents again and gagged at the thought of what lay beneath the taunt plastic and wet cloth. I ran my hands over the panties, feeling the warm heaviness. The plastic didn't crackle as much, being wet.

Aunt Sue had removed the pacifier when she released me. Now it lay on the coffee table a few inches away, ready for instant use. I looked up in time to see her place a baby bottle full of milk by the place that would be mine at dinner. I moaned in spite of her warning, feeling condemned to my fate. Soon the guests would arrive and see me, diapered and humiliated.

There was a knock at the door and I heard Aunt Sue's high heels on the tiles as she went to answer. Muffled voices drifted down the hall. My pulse beat faster as the strangers neared.

I could not meet their eyes. As my face was cast shamefully downward, it was their feet I saw first. Both pairs of black patent leather shoes belonged to women but one pair was very high spike pumps and the other were girl's single strap Mary-Janes. Time had stopped in that moment. As I raised my eyes to look at them, I saw a woman of Aunt Sue's age and dressed very provocatively. She had sexy good looks and knew it. I guessed the younger girl to be her daughter, a pretty thing of 16 or 17 and well developed. She wore a yellow dress that was styled like a child's and so short that from my place on the floor I caught a glimpse of her ruffled panties. She looked frightened and agitated, pressing her legs together constantly. She blushed deeply each time her eyes found mine before quickly looking away again.

The mother's voice startled me:

"Well, Sue, this is a surprise. A new candidate for your summer games?"

Aunt Sue briefly explained why I was there. Each word of her narrative seemed to torture me as my secrets were told. I felt all eyes upon me, interest growing as they learned about my `problem'. The newcomers sat down, still staring at me. The mother carried the conversation.

"I've brought Laura back for some advice. She's been having a little trouble lately and maybe you can help."

"Really, Joan?" Sue's interest was aroused. "What sort of trouble?"

Laura was ordered to stand and raise her dress but instead she turned a deep shade of red and gripped her mother's arm in desperation.

"Oh, Mommy, please no!" She cried and pleaded but Joan was unmoved and pushed the girl's hands away.

She repeated the order in a threatening voice and Laura slowly moved to comply. When finally the hem was held high and the tears of shame streamed down Laura's pretty face, it was my turn to stare. She wore a pair of tight fitting translucent plastic panties with ruffles sewn along the seat. The plastic clung to her skin, especially around her smooth and hairless vulva where a fold of the panties had become wedged between her vaginal lips. She sobbed and tried to avoid our stares as she pressed her legs together again, though from modesty or the need to relieve herself I could not tell. She looked again at her mother, pleading with her eyes.

"It's not yet eight o'clock, dear," was the reply to Laura's silent question, "your test isn't over yet. You must hold your water a while longer, as we agreed."

Laura bit her lower as Joan turned her attention back to Sue, "She's had a few relapses lately so we made an agreement. If she can hold three baby bottles of juice from breakfast until eight I won't put her back into the diapers you so kindly provided, but, if she wets herself, she'll have another summer of diaper training."

Sue smiled with a look of approval, "I see. The panties are an innovation. I know they're a wonderful as a method of discipline, especially worn all day, but they won't save your furniture."

"True. All it will take to return her to diapers is one trickle. I've kept a complete diaper bag handy all day. She blushes just at the sight of it."

Sue rose and went to Laura. The girl looked away, avoiding Sue's eyes. She gasped as Sue pushed her hand between the clenched, trembling thighs. A soft moan escaped when she finally, reluctantly, parted her legs. Sue's caresses quickened, deepening Laura's color.

"Oh, don't. Please don't. I can't hold it if you do that," she pleaded.

Sue ignored her cries and pushed a finger inside the crotch of the panty, watching Laura twitch as her finger found the girl's tunnel.

"She's very wet inside," Sue announced, "maybe she likes it this way."

Laura shuddered again as Sue continued her assault. I could see Laura was losing her control. Suddenly Sue withdrew her hand and the girl nearly collapsed.

"We'll let you suffer through dinner," Sue said as she tucked the fold of plastic back into the vaginal slit, "but I want a changing pad under you!"

Laura was sent to get it, moving on shaky legs and tugging down the short hem of her dress. Her sobs of distress echoed down the hall. Joan turned her attention to me, telling me to stand and model my diaper. I felt my legs tremble as I became the center of attention. My face felt hot and flushed and my throat went dry as I slowly turned around, my legs apart. Joan asked if I was wet and dirty and I nodded, feeling a new blush of shame. Then she came to me as Sue had approached Laura, her hands exploring my diaper. I breathed her scent and caught a brief glimpse down her dress. I was attracted by her beauty and the sense of power that she exuded.

"You must be quite uncomfortable," she said softly and I nodded, "would you like me to feed you your dinner?"

I shuddered at the thought of it but nodded again. She took me by the hand and led me to the table. She stood behind me and put her lips close to my ear as I began to sit on the padded chair she held ready for me. Her whisper came as her hands moved to my shoulders.

"I want to see your face when you sit in that shitty diaper," came the words as she pushed down suddenly.

I landed hard on the full diaper, feeling its contents shift and spread, shuddering with the feel of it. She pushed the chair into the table and told me to keep my arms down at my sides. From a drawer she took a pair of shackles with an extended length of chain between the cuffs and a few seconds later my wrists were confined, the chain running under the seat of the chair. I could not stand or move my arms more than a few inches.

Dinner passed slowly. Joan fed me occasionally, frequently ordering Laura to leave her place and hold my baby bottle for me while I suckled. Our eyes met often during these times and I could see the depth of her agony and feel the tremble in her hand as she fought the battle within her body. Whenever Joan wasn't pushing cold pablum into my mouth I watched Laura twist and shift in her chair while anxiously watching the clock.

Laura's crisis came only fifteen minutes away from relief. She suddenly pushed her chair back and bolted for the bathroom, only to trip on the living room carpet and fall. She lay still for a moment, though she hadn't fallen hard enough to hurt herself. Then her cry of defeated despair began, a whisper at first and then growing into a wail. In the brief silence of her gasps I heard the faint trickle of her pee against her plastic panties. She looked back at us, her face puffed red and tear stained, and then buried her head in her hands as a little pool of fluid spread out from under her.

Sue rose slowly from table; her face set in a curious smile.

"I think your diaper bag will be useful now," she said to Joan, "with your permission I'll fetch some restraints."

Joan smiled and nodded, also rising. Both women left on their errands. Laura and I were left alone. She looked back at me again and although no words were spoken we felt a common misery through a common fate. I felt a strange sense of comfort in whatever this summer might bring; I would not have to bear it alone.

Sue returned with several small bands of tan leather in her hands. She kneeled beside the distraught girl and guided her onto her knees. She gently fitted a collar around Laura's neck, ignoring the soft cries of rejection and protest. A band went around each wrist and ankle, the brass locks and loops tinkling gently. Laura's cries grew loud again as her wrists were joined in front of her and a leash was snapped into place at her collar. Annoyed at the outburst, Sue took the pacifier from the coffee table and roughly shoved it into the girl's mouth, reducing her wails to stifled sobs and sniffles. Sue tugged on the leash and Laura slowly rose to her feet. I could see her panties, pregnant and distended with golden pee.

"First to the bathroom to drain your panties," Sue said harshly, "then come back here for a taste of the cane. Make it fast, you know the rules by now!"

Laura sloshed away, her leash trailing after her in the little puddles of pee that marked her passage.

Sue went to a table and took from its drawer a long thin whipping cane and laid it on the coffee table.

She turned to Joan who had just finished preparing a disposable diaper for her daughter, "Do you want to do it?"

"No. It's better if it comes from her Mistress. I brought along some clamps; she's never seen them before."

Joan opened her hand to reveal two pairs of clamps in shiny gold metal, one set intended to strangle the nipples and the others meant to compress the vaginal lips with long, curved blades. Though I could only imagine their effects I shuddered and pulled against my cuffs at the thought of these devices applied to Laura's still innocent and tender body.

When Laura returned from her chore she paused at the sight of the waiting diaper and cane. Now drained of protest and tears she obediently came forward when Aunt Sue beckoned and kneeled at the end of the coffee table. Sue moved her leash from the collar to Laura's wrist bands and pulled the girl forward until she lay along the table, her knees on the floor, her rear presented for punishment. Sue passed the end of the leash around one of the table legs. Laura stared at the polished wood, mere inches from her face, as she waited for the first stroke of the cane.

Joan kneeled behind the prostrate form and reached under the short hem for the waist of her daughter's plastic panties. She drew them down slowly. They made a wet, peeling sound as the slick, clammy material parted with the girl's tender skin. The distinctive odor of strong urine filled the room. When the pants had been worked down to Laura's knees, Joan rose and nodded at Sue.

Aunt Sue took her position to the left and behind Laura. She cut the air a few times with her cane. The eerie, threatening sound heralded what was to come and I shivered as if it were I who was about to receive its kiss. Sue gently trailed the tip of the instrument between Laura's cheeks, reaching in to where her bare pubis began. The girl twitched in response but made no sound. Sue worked the cane in this fashion again and again until a soft, muffled whimper came from Laura, who still clutched the pacifier between her lips.

Sue began to speak softly but firmly, "Welcome back, Laura. We both know the routine by now, don't we?"

"Yes, Ma'am," came another muffled response.

Laura wanted no extra strokes for insolence or lack of respect.

"How many strokes, Laura? How many do you deserve for wetting my floor?"

"Twenty." It was a short muffled word.

The first stroke was hard and fast. The sharp crack of its impact on Laura's damp flesh made me wince but Laura only drew a sharp breath. It left a pair of matching weals that quickly turned from white to puffy red. Sue placed the second stroke below it and the third above it, each announcing its impending arrival with a song of rushing air and the same sharp sound that seemed deafening for its brevity. Still, Laura withstood it without cries or protest.

The scene was terrifying in its familiarity. Neither victim nor mistress was experiencing anything new. As the number of strokes grew with Laura's only reaction a steady sound of weeping, I wondered how many times before she had suffered this treatment and if I would ever accept such an experience so complacently.

When Sue untied the leash and ordered Laura to turn over and lie on the table face up, she spit out the pacifier and screamed her pleas for mercy.

"Oh, God, please no, don't mark me!"

It took the strength of both women to finally secure her in the desired position and as Sue picked up the cane again I learned her intention. Her voice was terrifyingly soft, calm, in control.

"Only by marking you dear shall we tell the world what lies beneath your diapers. I think that outburst deserves an extra stroke."

The cane flashed twice, leaving two weals on the front of Laura's thighs and bringing forth two piecing screams. The victim did not hesitate when ordered to draw her knees up. The cane found its mark on the backs of Laura's thighs, where they would touch a chair if she sat. Two more strokes were added before Sue threw down the cane and released the girl, leaving her huddled in the fetal position on the floor, weeping softly.

We all watched the beaten Laura as she rubbed her new welts with shackled wrists. Joan wore a curiously pleased expression, as if she believed that such measures were a necessary ordeal for her daughter. Sue raised her eyes and looked at me as if for the first time.

Her gaze never faltered as she issued curt orders, "Change Robbie, Laura. I want him clean and dry in ten minutes or you'll wear his diapers as a punishment."

Joan unlocked my handcuffs while Laura slowly rose from the floor. Standing, she offered her manacled wrists to Sue but received only a curt shake of the head. She reached my chair but her eyes met her mother's for a long minute.

It was the older woman who spoke first, "No, I want to put the diaper on her first."

Laura's eyes fell in shame as Joan took her joined wrists and led her back to the waiting disposable on the living room floor.

Joan had her daughter positioned on the waiting diaper and was searching through her handbag for clamps when Sue stopped her with a quiet, "Not yet."

We both watched as the diaper was taped snugly around Laura's waist. The girl rose and came for me again. I could see the great sadness in her eyes as she led me towards the bedroom. The rustle of her diapers the only sound in the room.

I felt a bond grow between us as she dabbed away at my soiled bottom. She was gently as only another diaper wearer could be. She showed no interest in my erection but powdered and oiled me thoroughly, taking her time despite Sue's warning. The new cloth felt warm and comforting. When Laura had me stand so she could pull my plastic panties up into place I felt a sense of security while in awe of Laura's calmness despite her pain and humiliation.

I wanted to tell her about the clamps. I wanted to warn her but part of me also wanted to watch Laura's face as Joan applied those terrible devices. Laura would not be calm and accepting. Like me she would be surprised, forced to adapt.

Back in the living room I could see Joan's cupped hand, concealing the little pile of metal. Sue came forward and released Laura's wrists, only to lock them once again behind her back. The girl sensed danger and quickly looked from Sue to Joan, not yet aware of her fate.

"There is one last duty to attend to before you return home in diapers," Sue said.

She guided the young girl to lie on her back on the coffee table. Her ankles were tied to its legs, keeping her knees wide apart, her crotch open and accessible. Sue straddled the table inches from Laura's head. She placed her hands so that she could hold down Laura's shoulders. Only then did Joan hold out the vaginal clamps where Laura could see them. At first there was no understanding in her eyes, but as Joan's free hand began to pull aside Laura's diaper, the girl's eyes suddenly widened and she struggled against all that held her.

"Oh, no! Please, not that! Please, I don't deserve it. Mommy why?"

Laura's only response was the crackling of her diaper as her pubic lips were bared. Now past pleading for mercy, her nostrils flared and her eyes were wide with fear as they followed the approach of the clamps.

Laura bucked and screamed when the first set of long, thin blades dug into her loins. She arched her back with the agony of it and screamed again with the arrival of the second clamp. Then she lay still again, taking deep breaths against the pain.

Joan carefully replaced her daughter's diaper and then held out the nipple clamps. It was as if Laura could not accept this new torture. She stared as her nipple was passed through the rings that would tighten when Joan released the springs. In a gesture of wickedness, Joan made sure that both of her daughter's nipples were placed inside the circular, serrated jaws. There was a long pause as Joan looked at Laura's face, its features strained as she stared down at the cruelty about to be inflicted upon her.

Laura gave a piercing scream when Joan finally let the spring loaded jaws close on the girl's erect nipples. Again the victim thrashed and pulled at her bonds and Sue's hands. Even after Joan signalled Sue and Laura was able to rise, she was able to do nothing to alter these devices with her hands still bound behind her.

She looked at her mother with tears streaming down her cheeks, "Please, Mommy, please take them off! Take them all off!"

Joan only hugged her and cupped one hand on Laura's diapered behind.

"Soon, baby, we'll be home soon."

Then she picked up her daughter's discarded plastic panties and the pacifier, which she returned to duty in Laura's mouth. Sue escorted her guests to the door. I was left alone, shocked by what had happened, I didn't realize Sue had gone into my room after the others had departed.

Sue came back into the living room and sat across from me. I felt a twinge of arousal when I noticed a flash of garters and stocking tops as she straightened her dress under her. She studied me carefully and I blushed under her scrutiny. I looked down at the crotch of my diapers, too ashamed to meet her eyes.

"Did Laura do a good job of changing your diaper?"

I nodded without raising my head, blushing at the words `your diaper'.

"Come here and show me," she said and my blush deepened as I slowly got up and went to stand in front of her. She waited in silence until our eyes finally met.

"Are you still dry?"

I nodded and she patted the couch beside her, a signal for me to sit.

She made me pause at the edge of the cushion while she ran her hands around the elasticized leg and waist openings, making sure that all of the soft, absorbent flannel was contained within the panty. Sue finally let me sit back. She turned to face me, one hand still on my plastic panties. I caught a second glimpse of garters and my erection began deep inside its prison of cloth and plastic. Sue felt it and followed my gaze then quickly adjusted her skirt. It had taken only a few seconds. She massaged my semi-stiffness.

"Do my stockings turn you on?"

I nodded, still staring at the fold of her dress that concealed the taunt garters.

Her hand moved to my chin, forcing me to look at her.

"That's not a polite thing to do. If a lady accidentally exposes herself you should look away. If I catch you doing that again I'll punish you. Is that clear?"

We stared into each other's eyes for a long minute until I finally nodded. She released me and began her lecture.

She said she hoped I had learned from the night's events. Laura had been treated harshly because she was a relapse case. I would be dealt with as severely if I deserved it. Sue said she planned to shame me out of bedwetting and if that meant showing the world a 16 year old still in diapers she would do it. If I wet during any night, from eight o'clock on, I would wear diapers for the following 24 hours, regardless of what visitors were expected or outside trips planned. I would also be made to wear diapers if caught masturbating or staring at women. Sue also stressed that I was not to remove a diaper or plastic panties or attempt to put my hands inside them. The penalty for this would be bondage; also to be left in place for the world to see if Sue thought I deserved it.

When Sue had finished her warnings and details about what would be expected of me, she got up suddenly and took me by the hand across the room.

"Now I will show you the closet."

I heard her high heels on the tiles and the gentle rustle of my plastic pants as we moved towards my room.

She sat me on the bed before she flung open the double doors and stood back so I could see what lay inside. The left half was a tangle of leather, chrome and chain. The right was a young girl's wardrobe of dresses, skirts and blouses. Shoes lined the floor, all high heeled and fancy. I pictured Laura in some of these things and a new wave of blush raced across my face at the thought that I might be made to dress in them. Sue selected a satin nightie. She carefully pulled off my tee shirt and slipped the cool, soft fabric over my head, drawing my arms through as though she were dressing a baby.

"You look lovely," she said stepping back to admire me. "Now clean up Laura's pee from the living room and then into bed. I'll get your night bottle."

The smell of the pee was so strong that I gagged as I sponged it up off the floor. It was dark yellow and left stains on the wood. Somehow I felt closer to Laura and wondered what Joan was doing with her at that very moment.

As I drew down the bedclothes I saw the marks on the head board where the afternoon's handcuffs had worn the paint. I remembered the feel of the cold steel on my wrists; it contrasted sharply with the satin of the nightie and the faint traces of Sue's perfume that lingered in the room. The plastic of my panties rubbed loudly on the sheets. Each time I moved, the sound reminded me of my diapers, even if I had been able to forget the thick padding and the growing dampness.

Sue returned with a bottle of juice. I took it reluctantly and looked at her as the nipple went into my mouth. She saw the question in my eyes and laughed, "No, I won't tell you if there's any diuretic in it. You'll find out in a few hours but you must finish it."

I sucked and sucked while she watched and tucked the bed sheets under the mattress until there was a tight band across my chest. She took the empty bottle and set it aside.

"I won't tie your hands as I did this afternoon. Now that you know the rules and have seen what can happen if they're broken it will be your decision." Then she kissed me on the forehead and told me to sleep well.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness I was surprised at how good I felt. It was as if the humiliation of the day had happened to someone else and Laura had been only a dream. The sweetness of baby powder mingled with Sue's perfume and I moved my legs a little, feeling the diaper and hearing the plastic flex. The nightie was soft and gentle against my skin as I drifted off to sleep.

It was not the light of dawn but the itchiness of my diaper that woke me. My hand felt between my legs and confirmed that my diaper was saturated. Some pee had escaped around the leg bands of the panties and the sheets were damp where they had absorbed it. The distinct smell of strong urine wafted up from under the covers. I shifted my hips and felt the sodden cloth stick to my skin.

Then my sleepy mind realized the consequences. Waking up wet was nothing new. I had come to accept my mother's anger. However, today it meant a full day in diapers! My pulse raced as memories of yesterday's events fuelled my imagination. I thought of changing myself, but what if Aunt Sue counted the diapers in the pail? There was only supposed to be one set; the ones Laura had removed. I could hide the diaper but its strong smell would only get worse in the summer heat. I got out of bed and began searching through the dresser, hoping to find at least a plastic bag. All I found were more cloth diapers and plastic panties, disposable diapers, adult size pacifiers and more cuffs and restraints. Another drawer held adult sized baby clothes and I shuddered at the thought of being dressed in them. Discouraged, I got back into bed and tucked in the blankets as best I could. As I waited for Aunt Sue my ears strained to catch every sound in the cottage, looking for the first hint of her approach. I felt condemned to accept Aunt Sue's power over me, forced to accept whatever she wanted to do to me.

Without a watch or a clock I couldn't tell how much time passed while I waited. My diaper grew more and more uncomfortable and my bladder was full again. I let it go, suddenly realizing that to hold it would only mean an earlier wetting of the fresh diapers I would certainly be made to wear when Aunt Sue discovered my wetting. Finally I heard her footsteps in the hall. My heart skipped a beat as the door knob moved. Then she was in the room, lovely as ever and reading the guilt in my eyes.

She asked the question anyway, "Are you wet? Did you pee in your diaper like the baby you've been?"

I grew red at her teasing as I nodded. She smiled and went to the dresser.

"I'm not surprised. You haven't had enough humiliation yet. You did it yourself, you know. There wasn't anything special in the juice you had last night."

She collected oil and powder and prepared a changing pad beside the pile of clean diapers and the dry plastic panties I would wear.

"We'll just change you for now," she said as the nightie was pulled over my head. Then I stood for her to pull down the panties and remove my diaper. I lay back on the pad while the diaper pail was opened. She slid the fresh diapers under me,

"Bath time is after lunch. I won't change you before then. You must ask me before you soil yourself, remember that."

She worked efficiently, first with the oil and then the powder, leaving me dry and comfortable. She twisted the cloth before bringing it between my legs and pinning it tightly. Oh how good it felt after the clammy, itchy wet diaper. The flannel was soft and warm and I breathed in the smells of oil and powder that were the essence of this new comfort.

The panties had snaps down the sides and I willingly lifted my hips for her as she placed them under me. The leg bands grew tighter as she began the snaps there, working towards the waist. I felt the warmth grow as the last snaps were fastened; there was a strange comfort in knowing the plastic would contain the fluid. She tucked a few stray folds of diaper inside my panties and stood back, pleased with her work.

"Well Baby Robbie, welcome to your first full day in diapers since my sister failed at toilet training you."

My flush of comfort and well being vanished as her words sunk in. The bands of fear tightened around my chest again as she prepared the same shaming tee shirt that I had worn last night. I read again the screaming legend and felt a heavy sense of dread. She led me to breakfast, the plastic panties crackling so loudly that I shuddered with the thought of being taken out of the cottage wearing them. Even under clothes they would announce their presence and attract attention. I realized she wanted that as a part of punishing me. I waited anxiously for news of how it would be done.

She said nothing at breakfast aside from ordering me to wash my diapers and her lingerie. She gave me a pacifier on a string to wear around my neck. I was to keep it in my mouth unless spoken to and replace it immediately after I had given my reply. When it came time to hang out the wet wash I remember working as fast as my fingers could, aware of how many windows could see me and trying to make sure no one was coming along the beach. I rushed inside breathless and shaking but she only smiled and told me I had better get used to it since I would be doing it every day.

I don't remember exactly when I wet during the morning, only that by noon my diapers were soaked again and the itch had returned. Dark spots showed through the plastic panties and I walked carefully to avoid leakage. She bathed and changed me after a lunch of pablum and a baby bottle of milk and then took me to my room where she used the handcuffs to chain me to the bed for the rest of the long, hot afternoon.

When she next came for me she was dressed to go out and immediately I felt fear. She took her time changing me. Only after she had taped a disposable in place did I learn that she was taking me out to dinner and then to the home of a friend of hers for a weekly bridge game. When she selected another pair of the loud panties I took a chance and spit out my pacifier to plead for a quieter pair. I knew instantly that I had made a mistake. Her eyes grew dark as she announced that because of my outburst I would have to wear the pacifier all night. I would have protested again if she hadn't shown me a big pacifier with retaining straps that went about the head and locked in the back.

I remember tears streaming down my cheeks as she led me out to the car. I wore a girl's blouse and a pair of baggy shorts that were cut so high that my panties showed when I walked and with every step they crackled loudly. She made me carry the large canvass bag with the word DIAPERS stenciled on the side. I sniffled against the yellow, clear plastic plug in my mouth.

There was no escaping the stares in the hamburger restaurant as I stood in line with her. My face felt hot and flushed as more and more people turned a casual glance into a burning stare. The order girl stared at me past Sue's shoulder and had to ask for the order three times before she got it right. Aunt Sue never missed a cue, never gave a hint that anything unusual was happening. She used the few seconds while the girl was gathering our food to slip her hand down the back of my shorts, checking my diaper and making sure she exposed a good section of my plastic panties before replacing the blouse.

By the time I tried to pick up my hamburger my hands were shaking so badly I needed both of them to steady it. I had started to cry with shame but Aunt Sue ignored my sobs. When we were finished, she reached across the table for my pacifier and gently pushed it back into place between my lips. A family at the next table stopped their conversation to stare.

"Is he wearing a diaper?" I heard the husband ask his wife as we left, their eyes burning into my back.

A woman's voice said she was pretty sure.

My bladder gave way as we reached the car.

I had no time to recover from the humiliation of the restaurant when we arrived at her friend's house. I started to cry as I realized it was about to happen all over again. Aunt Sue pulled the pacifier from my mouth as we waited for the doorbell to be answered and reminded me it was to go back into place as soon as introductions were over.

I seemed to be outside myself as the three women were introduced. Only Aunt Sue's words burned their way into my troubled mind.

"This is my nephew, Robbie. He has a bedwetting problem so I'm keeping him in diapers during the day to cure it."

I expected stares and exclamations of surprise. It was worse when instead there was only curiosity, `oohs' of sympathy and four words that snapped me out of the nightmare.

"Let's do have a look!"

In an instant my shorts were pulled down to my knees, the pacifier shoved back into my mouth and then my legs were being lifted like a child's as the shorts were drawn clear. They talked about me as we moved into the living room. I was given an old sheet to sit on, placed near their table. A little after their game started I realized I could see up one woman's skirt. She wore stockings and I couldn't stop myself from staring.

The small talk of their card game drifted into the background of my mind as I recovered from the trauma of our arrival. The disposable diaper was more comfortable than cloth when wet but I felt a growing need from my bowels that soon had me moving about restlessly. It was the object of my stares who noticed my agitation.

"Sue, Robbie looks like he needs you."

As I felt their eyes turn towards me I tried to tell Sue of my problem by wiggling my hips; the pacifier still prevented me from speaking and I had not been given permission to remove it.

She understood and nodded before returning to the game.

"Oh, it's nothing. He's supposed to ask permission before soiling in his diaper. I've given it."

Even though the game had started again, each woman stole long glances at me as I moved about on the sheet, releasing my bowels and shamed by their attention. Finally, I kneeled gingerly, very aware of how uncomfortable I had become. I stole another look under the table. The lady saw me but instead of crossing her legs or arranging her skirt she actually raised it a little, giving me a better view. When our eyes met again, she winked her confirmation of our secret.

I began to study her. She was the youngest of the group, perhaps in her late 20's. Her sandy colored hair was cut in a long page boy style and framed a pretty face. Her bust was full and beneath her thin blouse her nipples had begun to harden. I remembered that she had generous hips but her legs were slim with good shape. She wore high tan pumps that matched her knit skirt and silk blouse.

I felt a strange excitement begin to grow as Marsha (for I had heard her called by that name) continued to flirt with more and more daring. At times she opened her legs completely and soon I had to resist the temptation to rub my growing hardness.

When they broke for coffee she came to me and crouched so I could not help but look up her skirt. She gently pulled the pacifier from my mouth before she spoke.

"Hi! You look as if you need to have your diaper changed. Would you like me to take care of it?"

Struck dumb with emotion I nodded slowly.

She asked Sue's permission and then led me to her bedroom, bringing the sheet and picking up my diaper bag along the way. She locked the door and put her arms around me. Her voice was husky with arousal.

"I'm not sure why but the sight of you in that wet and dirty diaper turns me on. Oh, you're hard, then you must like it too."

I could not tell her that it was she who made me aroused. She sensed my confusion and smiled as she had me lie down on the sheet on the bed. I had to turn my face away from the terrible smell that filled the room once the diaper was opened by she didn't seem to mind and set about her task expertly.

Soon a new disposable was taped snugly in place and she was refastening my panties.

"Would you like to spend the night here?" she asked while stroking my bulge through the diaper.

"H-here?" I gasped as her face colored a little.

"Yes, here," she said while motioning towards the bed.

I had little doubt that she meant this bed.

"My husband is away," she said quickly and then went to the door.

All eyes were on me as we returned to the living room. Marsha spread the sheet on the floor in the center of the room as if she wanted everyone to watch me. I sat cross legged as the conversation resumed. I blushed at being so conspicuous.

A few minutes later Marsha followed Sue into the kitchen. Then I hear Sue laugh. Marsha was smiling when they came back. Sue paused to put my pacifier back into service before resuming her seat.

Later, after the others had gone, Sue came right to the point.

"Marsha, its your affair. We both know why you're doing this. Make sure you're prepared for Dave if your plan works."

Marsha blushed and giggled.

"You must promise to keep him diapered at all times." Sue continued, "There's plenty of them in his bag and although he'll beg and work on your obvious soft spot for him I want him in diapers, especially when he wets during the night -- there's little doubt that will happen. Of course, you may punish him as you please."

I looked anxiously at Marsha but found no sign that she would be harsh with me. Sue scolded me to obey and then Marsha saw her to the door. Marsha was flushed when she returned. She helped me up and then put her arms around me, stroking my diaper as she spoke.

"You're the answer to my prayers. My husband had a vasectomy with his first wife. Now we want kids and even though he's had the reversal done, we've had no luck for more than a year. The doctor says it could still happen any time so if you agree, we'll give Dave a little help but keep it a secret."

"Yeah," was all I could say.

I wanted her so badly I would have agreed to anything. I let her lead me to the bedroom. My blouse fell away but she stopped me when I reached for my plastic panties.

"Not yet, leave them on for a while," she ordered.

We lay on the bed and she took control, kissing and caressing me while refusing my attempts to touch her. After a few minutes she lay full length on me, pinning me to the bed while one of her knees rubbed me between the legs. I let her draw my arms over my head and didn't realize what she was doing until I felt a leather cuff close around my wrist. I began to struggle but she cooed her assurance that all would be well and soon she had me bound.

She kneeled by the bed and stroked my diaper.

"It's better this way. It's my decision now. You can always say that I forced it on you."

She stood and carefully removed her blouse, revealing her full and beautiful breasts. She saw the look in my eyes and bent over the bed so I could kiss and lick them for her. Then she teasingly worked at the clasps of her skirt. When it came down, she made sure the slip went with it and I strained my neck to stare as she displayed herself for me, all the while blushing and smiling in modest pride.

Her pubis was as bare and smooth as a young girl's and a small gold ring neatly pierced one of the lips of her vulva.

"Do you like it?" she asked innocently while running her fingers over the bare mounds and flicking the ring.

I smiled and nodded.

"I'm usually a very obedient wife -- except when I'm bad, and then I'm very bad. My husband made me have my pubic hair removed with electrolysis and wear the ring as a reminder of my service. Are the cuffs alright? Normally it's me who is held down while Dave does what he wants." She flicked a garter, "he insists on the garter belts and won't let me wear panties. I guess you like that too."

She climbed back onto the bed and offered each part of her delicious body to my lips until finally only her pubis remained. Slowly she straddled me, bringing her musky lips to my waiting tongue. She began to moan with delight as I licked and sucked, feeling the smooth nylon of her hosiery against my body, my own arousal now painful and hard. She shuddered in her climax and smiled down at me, a deep flush spreading from her face to her breasts.

She rolled to one side her hands moving to my panties, ripping open the snaps. She was gentler with the diaper tapes, folding them back for reuse. My cock sprang up when she peeled back the diaper and she wasted no time straddling me again, holding my shaft as she lowered herself onto it, guiding me into her wet cunt.

I was in heaven, lost in that warm, slick perfect world. It was my first time with a woman and I fell instantly in love with her. We lay still for a moment before she began a slow rhythm with her hips, bringing moans of pleasure from me. Three times she slowed when I was on the verge of coming but finally she let it happen, quickening her pace and arching her back, a scream of pleasure escaping as she felt me explode inside her.

We lay that way for a few seconds before she got off me and went quickly into the adjoining bathroom. When she returned a few seconds later, the telltale string of a tampon peeked from between her vaginal lips.

Marsha smiled and rubbed her pussy, "I want every drop."

She taped my diaper back into place and fastened my panties.

"Do you mind having to wear this? I've promised Sue."

I realized that with her doing the diapering, so I didn't mind at all. Then she sat beside me on the bed, suddenly bashful.

She blushed, giggled and looked away as she blurted out a strange request, "Please don't laugh, but would you help me put on one of your diapers? I'd like to try it."

When I recovered my wits I said I would and she quickly released the cuffs.

A few minutes later she was naked. I stood between her spread legs, applying oil and powder to her bare loins. She swooned with sensual pleasure and gasped with excitement when the disposable was pulled snug between her thighs.

"Ohhh, I like it," she said while running her hands over the plastic shell.

The diaper rustled and crackled when she took a few steps. She looked back at me, thrilled with her discovery.

"It's not so bad at first, is it?"

"No," I said slowly, "not at first."

I asked her if she wanted panties. She said they wouldn't likely fit and so we went back to the living room where she fixed us both strong drinks. Under her probing questions I told her what had happened over the past few days. She grew noticeably aroused when I described the part when Laura was returned to training and she even asked me for more details. My own hardness had returned and by the time our glasses were empty she was stroking me lightly in the front of my plastic pants. Beneath them my diaper was soaked again.

She looked into my eyes, "I want you again," she said simply.

Then gently she took my hand to lead me back to the bedroom. She undressed me slowly and carefully. I luxuriated in being free of diapers, especially when she spread baby powder all over me, finding the moist cracks in my loins and banishing the odor of pee. When I reached for her diaper she said she wanted to leave it on, to just push the crotch aside when it came time. She didn't use the cuffs and so I took the lead, letting her lie passive while I explored her body with my lips. She pressed her legs together against the padding of her diaper and moaned with excitement. I caught the scent of her wetness escaping the diaper as I kissed and licked the insides of her thighs. When she could stand it no more, she pulled the padding to one side and reached for my hardness to guide it inside. It was different to be on top. As I slid in and out of her slick tunnel, I could feel the diaper between us, the warm plastic rustling as I moved rhythmically. I came suddenly, with little warning and fell against her. She was yet only at the crest of her own explosion and moaned in frustration before rolling us over so that I lay beneath her. She took over the rhythm, riding my fading erection until her own climax left her breathless. She rolled off me and we lay still until sleep closed my eyes.

I was in heaven. The sensations of our lovemaking washed through my dreams. Even in sleep I knew I was not diapered, not confined in the thick, humid pads that would only grow more and more uncomfortable until the next changing brought relief. My loins were cool and dry. The lingering fragrance of baby powder blended with the warmth of the bedclothes. I was content.

I began to wake when she gently brought my wrists into position over my head. At first I thought it was part of my dreams. The cold leather of the cuffs quickly brought me back to reality and I began to struggle as the last buckle was tightened.

She was looking down at me, smiling in satisfaction.

"It's time we put you back into diapers. I don't want you to wet my bed."

Her words were soft and gentle but beneath them was the intent that frightened me.

"Oh, please no. Don't diaper me. I won't wet, you'll see. Please don't make me wear a diaper!"

As much as I pleaded, I saw it was futile. She had put on her stockings and garter belt and a new tampon string poked out from her bare pussy. She took her time preparing the disposable diaper and laying out the Vaseline and powder. I moaned in frustration as I obediently lifted my hips for her. I watched her spread a thick layer of the jelly over my diaper area and then dust it with powder. She was teasing, stroking me to a new arousal.

Suddenly, I saw the enema and pulled against my cuffs.

"Oh, no. Not that, please not that!"

Her smile only grew.

"I found this in your diaper bag. There's only one reason why Sue would include it. Oh don't fuss so. Don't you remember? I told you I liked the sight of you in a wet and dirty diaper. I can guess why she packed some Tampax too. It must be quite a sensation."

I let her pry my legs apart. The slim plastic nozzle went in easily because of the Vaseline. She squeezed the bottle and the cold fluid squirted into me. When she had emptied it as much as she could she reached for the tampon she had made ready and pushed it roughly inside, pressing home the plunger before the enema could swell the plug. I moaned with the discomfort and she giggled as the diaper was taped in place. She selected a pair of closed panties and worked them up my legs. They were smaller and tighter; the leg and waist bands pinched. Then she sat on the bed beside me and put her hand between my thighs while we waited for the enema to take effect.

A few seconds later the spasms began. I bucked against the cuffs and squeezed her hands as my body tried to expel the tampon and the punishing fluid it contained. The minutes passed slowly as I cried out with the need to release the torrent. Then, finally it was over. I had wet and messed almost to the capacity of the diaper and felt the misery she had created for me.

She smiled and released my cuffs, inviting me to take a few steps and model her handiwork.

"Why did you do this to me?" I asked.

"Because I wanted to," was her only reply.

If our lovemaking had created bonds they were broken during the next few hours. I was once again banished to the sheet on the floor, forced to look up at her. She kept her legs spread so I could study her bare pussy and the string of the tampon that held my sperm inside her. She told me about some of the things her husband did to her and when she saw that I was aroused by her tales of bondage and S&M she added more and more details.

When she took me to bed, she told me she would not put the cuffs on me if I promised not to remove the diaper. Reluctantly I agreed and tried to concentrate on her lovely body as we fell asleep.

In the morning she was rushed and agitated. Without a word to me she began to strip down my plastic panties. When my loins were bared and cleaned, she took my penis in her hand and pumped me to an erection before straddling me on the bed and guiding it inside her. I could not help but enjoy her slick wetness as she moved back and forth.

"A last shot? One for the road?" I teased.

"Yeah," she muttered between grunts of pleasure, "but just for that crack I'm going to take you home with your diaper in plain sight."

It was just as well that she came right then, for the thought of having my diapers in plain view quickly withered my erection.

Confined again in clean cloth diapers and with my pacifier in place Marsha led me out to her car. Across the street a woman tending her garden looked up and stared at me. She was close enough to read my tee shirt and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. My diaper was fully exposed under the short shirt that proclaimed my bondage. Marsha waved to the woman and called her by name. The stranger gave a brief acknowledgment, never taking her eyes from me.

Once in the safety of the car I began to tremble with the humiliation. Marsha reached over and patted my diaper.

"Come now! It's not all that bad, is it? If you want it to stop, just stay dry at night."

"But I can't!" I said after spitting out the pacifier.

"You're just not trying hard enough. Maybe you need something more than diapers to help you take control of yourself. I'll speak to Sue about it."

I kept silent in my misery as we drew near to Aunt Sue's place.

CHAPTER TWO

The next few days blurred together. Aunt Sue returned me to the now familiar routine of mornings spent washing my diaper things and her lingerie. After a bath in the early afternoon, I spent the remainder of the day tied to my bed while the heat of the afternoon sun bathed me in sweat and turned my diaper into a humid prison.

When it suited her she would insert a tampon and give me an enema while diapering me after my bath. Some days it was only water in the syringe; other times she would use the powerful chemicals that condemned me to an hour or more of painful spasms to be followed by hours of lying there in a wet and dirty diaper.

She changed me again after a dinner of baby food. Then came the silky nightie, a bottle of juice and a warning that the next day would bring more of the same treatment if my diaper was wet in the morning; it always was.

Aunt Sue usually made me keep a pacifier in my mouth. I was allowed to remove it only to eat or on the rare occasions when she wanted me to reply to a question. All my fluids came from a baby bottle and she fed me my pureed food. My only clothing was a tee shirt imprinted with some humiliating message intended to shame me. During my daily baths she shaved what hair grew back, keeping my skin baby smooth.

I felt as if I were caught in a dream. I no longer dreaded any part of my daily routine but accepted it, finding a little comfort in each clean, dry diaper and the fragrances that filled the room at each changing. I no longer tried to control my urine or bowel movements for this pitted my will against Aunt Sue in a battle from which I had already resigned. I became amused at each unexpected surge of warm wetness that signalled a wetting or the sudden need to kneel or assume some other accommodating position while my diaper filled from the rear.

I no longer resented the leather cuffs that held me during the long afternoons. They became a part of Aunt Sue, as if they were her hands. I didn't struggle against them.

I suppose it was this complacency that inspired my mistress to find new ways of tormenting me. She wasn't content to have a silent, incontinent adult baby. There was no dread and fear to be enjoyed. If her true purpose was to train me out of bedwetting then she had done little to accomplish it.

I knew the familiar routine of the day had been set aside when she left me in bed much longer than usual. She was dressed up when she came and her perfume washed over me when she released the ankle cuff that prevented me from wandering during the night. Then she put on a rubber apron to protect her dress and began to prepare things for a diaper change. Gagged by my pacifier I could only watch and wonder.

When I was clean and dry in a disposable diaper and plastic pants, Aunt Sue told me to stand still while she took a few measurements. I stood on a piece of paper while she traced the outline of my feet and watched as she took measurements for various parts of my body and especially over my diaper and between my legs. She carefully noted each size on a piece of paper and then slipped a tee shirt over my head. The letters on the front and back carried the same message: BEDWETTER. I had to lift my head while she fastened a leather collar around my neck. Another cuff went around my right wrist before she locked it to the collar. Then she took the collar ring in her fingers and led me out to the back yard.

I trembled at the first sight of the length of chain that dangled from the clothesline. I had seen the same arrangement used for dogs: the animal, tethered by the chain and its collar to the pulley of the clothesline, would have the run of the yard but no more. Aunt Sue used a padlock to join the chain to my collar. Then she pointed out the table at the side of the house where three baby bottles of juice and two jars of baby food were to be my food and drink for the day.

"I've some shopping to do for you and I'll be away all day. There is your food and drink. Keep your pacifier in your mouth unless you are eating or drinking."

She paused for a moment and I happened to touch the taunt plastic pants that already were growing warm under the sun.

"Don't try to take them off, Robbie, or your diaper. It takes two hands to refasten it properly so I'll know if you try. I would be very cross with you and punish you hard."

She gently reached out and removed the pacifier from my mouth, a signal that I was permitted to speak.

"Please don't leave me like this, Aunt Sue," I gulped. "I'll be seen. Please, anything would be better than this!"

She just smiled her cruel little smile and pushed the pacifier back into my mouth.

"It's a little of that `anything' I'm going to buy for you today. Stay near the house if you like, but even there the sun will find you and make your diaper deliciously uncomfortable."

Then she abruptly turned and walked away. I watched her lovely legs, encased in shear seamed stockings, and her high heels. I felt again the dark fear of her power over me.

When I moved towards the food the clothesline screamed after me and I looked around furtively to see who might be watching. My hands were trembling when I picked up a bottle and soon I was shaking all over as I suckled on the apple juice. When it was finished, I tried to hide my tether by bringing the chain close to the wall but anyone who gave me even a quick glance would be able to see my bondage.

After a while, I began to feel cramps and guessed that she had put something in the juice to increase my misery. My weakened bladder control could do nothing to battle the diuretic and another storm threatened to fill my diaper. Only walking eased the agony and I began to pace the length of the yard, ignoring the shrill squeaks from the clothesline while I massaged my aching belly. Whenever I wet myself it felt like liquid fire; a burning that only more pee would ease; but more pee only made it worse and I was torn between needing to pee, suffering for it and then needing to pee again. In a sudden spasm of cramps I fell to my knees and felt my diaper fill.

As the diuretic did its work my thirst grew worse and I finished the other bottles, hoping they too were not spiked. The need to pee didn't slacken and my thirst was getting worse by the minute. By the time the sun reached its noon zenith, when there was no shade to be had, I lay in the middle of the yard, too miserable to care if I was seen. Pee had long since leaked from my panties to stream down my thighs and soak the ground beneath me, turning it into mud.

I had closed my eyes against the brightness of the day and may even have dozed a little in spite of my discomforts when I sensed that I was not alone. I opened my eyes to see a pair of women's sandals holding a very pretty pair of feet whose toes had been recently pedicured. She bent down and I caught a glimpse up her skirt to see a garter belt before I looked up to see it was Marsha, her face smiling in sympathy.

"Sue really did it up well," she said as she gently pulled at my pacifier. "Are you OK?"

I stared at her for a moment, wondering if I was dreaming.

"Thirsty" I croaked.

She nodded. She took the three bottles into the house. When she came back, she handed me one and I began suckling the cool water. Marsha sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose as she glanced at my diaper.

"Yes, we'll have to change you."

She unlocked me from the chain and led me into the house. I stumbled along behind her, stunned and senseless but aware that some comfort would be coming soon. She left me standing in the tub for a minute. When she came, back she wore the rubber apron and carried a wrist cuff in her hand.

I pulled away when she reached for me so she stepped back.

"OK, I'll just take you back outside and chain you to the clothesline again."

I didn't resist her second attempt and soon both my hands were bound to my collar. She stripped away my diaper and used the shower to clean up most of the mess. Then she dried me off and led me to the bedroom where she made me lie down on the disposable she had prepared.

"You're going to help me one more time," she said as her hand began to stroke my flaccid member.

She lifted her skirt to show me the tops of her stockings and her garter belt. I grew even harder when I saw that shaven pussy again, pouting in arousal. She straddled me and brought the shaven lips to my mouth and I tasted her salty juices. She began to moan and thrust herself against my tongue. Then she moved back and guided me into that soft, wet, warm tunnel of bliss. She moved her hips as a dancer and I felt myself about to burst. When I flooded her with sperm she screamed in satisfaction and rammed herself down on me. We lay like that for a while before she got off me and let me watch while she put a tampon up herself to hold it all in. She was flushed and glowing while she finished diapering me. She even added a few diaper doubler pads to keep me comfortable a little longer. She put on a sad face as she guided me to my feet.

"I'm sorry but it's back out to the yard for you. Sue made me promise to leave you as I found you. I was even supposed to make you wear your dirty diaper and panties again, but I just don't have the heart."

It was hard to watch her pretty hands fumble with the padlock as she chained me again. My nice dry diaper was already getting wet as I watched her blow a kiss from the corner of the house.

I hear Aunt Sue's car and then a long time passed before she came out to get me. I could tell by the smile on her face that her shopping trip had been successful. She inspected me carefully.

"I see Marsha was a lot kinder to you than you deserve."

I nodded, for the pacifier was on duty and I had not been given permission to speak. She unlocked me from the chain and made me gather up the baby bottles and jars before leading me back into the house.

In my nursery I saw what she had purchased. The bed was full of women's clothes, all lain out on display for my introduction to them. There were several business like corsets and a couple of fancy ones, girdles with garters, garter belts, stockings and a couple of pairs of high heeled shoes. I guessed that the stack of nylons, still packaged, were stockings. There were dresses and skirts to complete the outfits. Deep inside I felt a tremble of fear.

"I'm sure your efforts to end your bedwetting will be encouraged once you are dressed as a woman each day. With a new hairstyle and a bit of makeup, I'm sure we can easily have you pass as a woman in public."

She paused to enjoy my reaction and then continued.

"Wouldn't you like to see what's inside the ladies room? I thought every little boy wondered about it?"

Spending the summer in diapers would have been bad enough, but being forced to dress as a woman turned each day into a nightmare.

[babylin]

I suppose there are a lot of "Aunt Sue"'s out there, but I surely do not remember this one!!

Good rendition.

HAPPINESS IS WEARING COTTON DIAPERS

(even flannel)

[puffy_bottom]

Thanks very much!

[Fulldiaper]

I remember this from some other story boards I believe. I hope that it will be continued and we'll see further adventures to break a bedwetter, Please!!

[mskvor]

Hello, thanks a lot, I don't rememeber this "Aunt Sue" story . If you have other parts, please, post them as well.

MS

[dldad]

Quite the story, and looks as though his bed wetting won't be ending anytime soon. I would be interested in seeing more as there are ways for this to progress.

[6firewall6]

Sorry that's all I have ever found of it. If some one wanted to add to it I would love to read it.

[pampywamp]

wish i had a aunt Sue

[Shade Nyx]

It was these kinds of stories that helped get me interested in being a dommy mommy in the first place.

If we can get the author's pen-name, we might be able to dig some more writing. 

[Tommy1943]

Thank you for a captivating story.

Originally I was pressed for time but once I started reading I couldn´t stop.

Please continue amazing and exciting me.

[Guilend]

I love it. That woman that's trying to get pregnant should be also getting diaper punished for her behavior. 

[David Jones]

Loved this story would love an experience like this. Diapers and handcuffs its like being in heaven really !