forced regression Raising Husbands (caption chapter post 1/12/21)

[Alex Bridges]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've decided to consolidate these little scenes into a single series of posts I'm calling Raising Husbands. New entries will appear on Patreon approximately two weeks before I post them here.

_______

I do a lot of long stories (too long sometimes) and wanted to try something very short. I suspect I'll post a number of what I'm calling these short scenes, composed mostly of dialogue, in this universe I've created. Right now, I think each scene will be entirely episodic and not connected to the others. Enjoy!

 

Date Night

 

 

 

“What would you like to drink,” the waitress asked the two of them.

“First bottle is on me,” Jess said, and ordered a Brunello.

“Are we celebrating something,” Susie asked, happy Jess ordered a bottle much more expensive than what she would ever get for herself.

“Of course we are: it’s Friday.” The waitress returned with the bottle and served two glasses. “Let’s drink to something,” Jess excitedly said, the glass in her hand seeming to make the weekend official.

Susie raised her glass. “A toast: to babysitters.”

“Damn right,” Jess laughed. “And another toast: to our husbands, without whom a Friday night out wouldn’t be nearly so special.”

“Amen,” Susie added before taking another drink.

“Been a hell of a week,” Jess said, shaking her head. “But it’s Friday, and Ryan is spending the night.”

“Good for you. What time are you picking him up tomorrow?”

“Not until lunch time.”

“Ugh. Jealous. Well, I’m sure you’ve earned it.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Jess said. “Four times this week, and it’s only Friday.”

“Four?” Susie was surprised but not shocked. Two was average for Jess, three not uncommon, but to have to give Ryan four spankings in a week? That was unusual. “How did he manage to get in so much trouble?”

“The really amazing part is it wasn’t five. I try, seriously – you know I do – to give him a little leeway, but it’s like the seasons change and he turns into this crazy person who wants to argue over every little thing. First spanking was over making his bed, if you can believe that. At his age!”

Susie didn’t see perfectly eye to eye with her friend on discipline. She knew Ryan could be a handful, but Jessica had a hair trigger on her hairbrush, and Ryan’s butt paid the price for it. “Just because he wouldn’t make the bed?”

“Because of the attitude that went with it. He actually threw a pillow at me.”   

     
            “You’re kidding!”

“And as soon as he did it, his eyes were like saucers. He knew immediately how much trouble he was in. Why he can’t think one step ahead … anyway, it’s the same struggle as usual, trying to get him to stick to the chore chart.”

“You know there’s an easier way,” Susie said knowingly, swirling the wine in her glass.

“We’re just going to disagree about that,” Jess replied. “I mean, he’s yours, so you do what you think is right, but Jake is one spoiled …” As very close friends, they were comfortable with some gentle joshing. It was hardly the first time of the fiftieth they’d discussed this.

“He’s not spoiled!”

“You do everything for him.”

“It’s not everything, and I just made a choice: I could spend as much time trying to get Jake to behave like you do with Ryan and still end up redoing whatever it is I asked him to do, or I could just do it myself in half the time.”

“Fair enough. Who did you find to sit anyway?”

“Liz is home for the weekend.”

“Your neighbor’s daughter?”

“Mhmm. She’s good with him. You know with his potty problems, well, not every sitter is willing to deal with that.”

“Another problem spanking his bottom for him could help.”

“It would not,” Susie said. “You always say that.”

“It couldn’t hurt. Well, it wouldn’t hurt you, anyway,” Jess snickered

“Leave my Jakey alone. He’s doing the best he can. You make it sound so much worse than it is. It’s not the end of the world.” Susie always underplayed how much of a problem it was, but it was true as far it went – it was a problem, and it caused other problems, but it wasn’t the end of the world that Jake still had potty issues at his age.

“You're right. I’m sorry.”

“So how did you get to four anyway,” Susie asked. Even if she didn’t agree with how strict her friend could be, she wasn’t judgmental about it. A lot of people, maybe even most, were pro-spanking where they lived, even if Jess was on the leading edge of the trend. Susie’s curiosity got the better of her.

“Bathroom issues, as a matter of fact. In my life, I have never seen such a mess.”

“What happened?”

“I let him take a bath on his own. He’s been wanting to for a while and trying to convince me. We even did a trial run with me just sitting in the bathroom and him bathing himself. I finally relented and let him solo.”

“Well, with you expecting him to do so much cleaning, why not clean himself,” Susie said with a chuckle. “How bad was it?”

“Standing water on the floor. He said he was playing tidal wave.”

“Ceiling leak?”

“No, thank god. I yanked him out of the tub, sat down on the toilet and pulled him right over my knee. He was soaked, I was soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad at him.”

“Maybe you should have waited until you had calmed down.”

“O, trust me, I did. That was just a preview. All that did was start his crocodile tears, but when I told him, ‘We are going to clean up this mess, and then mommy is going to spank your bottom blue’ the real tears started. I mean, granted thinking ahead is not his strong suit, but what did he think was going to happen? He got a little taste of natural consequences, too.”

“How’s that?”

“The towels were soaked. He just had to endure being cold and naked.”

Susie grimaced. “I think even I would’ve spanked Jakey if he did something like that, but don’t you think that was a little harsh?”

“It was only five minutes. We got the worst of it cleaned up, and I went and got a towel from my bathroom. I warmed him up, we had a little talk, got him spanked and then straight into bed. I cleaned up the rest.”

“I wish that were the sort of bathroom issue I was dealing with.”

“What does his doctor say?”

“To just keep working at it. It’s not …” Susie shook her head and pour another glass. “He just won’t do it away from home, and even if we are home, he won’t unless I’m there.”

“Still?”

Susie nodded. “He just holds it and holds it until he can’t anymore, and then he tries to hide what happened. His daycare says it can’t keep happening.”

“What do they want you to do?”

“Give him an enema every morning before I bring him in, which his doctor says is the worst possible thing to do. She says he won’t ever learn if we do that.”

“What are the other options?”

“There’s the surgery, but I don’t want to do that yet. That’s why I like Liz so much. She’s so good about handling the episodes. I mean, he trusts her so much more because of how good she is about it, she’s the only sitter he likes enough that he won’t cry when I leave. If only his daycare would be half as good about it.”

“Maybe you need to find a new daycare.”

“I’m not sure that would help; I could see that just making it more difficult with the new place and new people. And the episodes obviously bother the staff a whole lot more than they bother Jakey. Of course, that’s kinda the problem since he won’t tell them, but he does seem to like it there.”

“Well, I know I keep coming back to this but you’ve tried rewarding Jake. Maybe it’s time…”

“He’s doing his best, Jessica. Why you think that’s the solution to every problem …”

“It’s how I was raised. I always knew I’d be a spanker. My mom was; she gave me spanking authority over my brothers when I was … I’m not sure, exactly. Anyway, I gave Billy a spanking just last week, too. Wasn’t even babysitting. I was just visiting, and he got told for the millionth time to stop running in the house and didn’t stop, so I snagged him right out of the air. Mom got the paddle from the kitchen and finished the job.”

“I know it’s the preferred way these days,” Susie said. “I just don’t … I don’t like doing it. Guess I’m just a softie. And Jakey is so … it’s not like I’ve never spanked him.”

“Well, I know you’ve given him a few swats before.”

“That counts as a spanking.”

“I’ve given Ryan that much for a warning.”

“Jakey is more sensitive than Ryan. I mean, for heaven's sake, he’s too embarrassed to tell his daycare teacher he has a load in is pants. Give Jake a pop on the butt, and he full on sobs. Ryan lives his life like he’s the second coming of Tarzan. A pop on the butt doesn’t even get through to him.”

“If only. That would have prevented the third and fourth trip he took over my knee this week.”

“What happened?”

“Toy store.”

“Why were you buying him a toy if he was being such a pill all week?”

“Carrots and sticks. I promised him if he did the dishes every night for one week without needing to be reminded, he could pick out a toy under $30. Just goes to prove he’s fully capable of remembering his chores without being told. He just doesn't because he doesn't want to.”

“So toy store meltdown?”

“Big time. I did my very best to calm him down. I told him we could pick a different chore for him to remember, something a little harder, and that could be his reward later. Nope. I showed him other toys. Nope.”

“That’s a shame. Turning what should’ve been a nice outing into something you both regret.”

“Yeah. I guess I should’ve just marched him out of there at the first whine instead of trying to salvage it … I just wanted to do something nice. Anyway, I gave him a warning swat on his reset button, and it didn’t even faze him. He paused for, like, half a second before just getting louder. Then I’m that woman in the toy store, telling him, ‘Do you want a toy, or do you want mommy to spank your naughty bottom in front of all these people?’”

“Guess he didn’t choose the toy,” Susie surmised. “Doesn’t that sort of thing embarrass you?”

“Spanking him in public? In another time and place, maybe, but the people at the toy store have to be used to it. I’m convinced that’s why there are three benches right in front of the store. And pretty much every woman has had that moment … What I do find is embarrassing is Ryan behaving that way. If only he were as embarrassed by his own behavior as he was by the consequences. I spank-marched him  back into the mall, and that’s when he turned red and couldn’t stop stammering apologies.”

“Poor little guy,” Susie commented. “I mean, I know he earned it, but it’s not entirely his fault.”

“How is it not his fault,” Jess asked incredulously.

“He has poor impulse control. Sometimes they just can’t help it until it’s too late.”

“Right. How inconvenient for him that he always seems to remember to control his impulses right around the moment I’m unbuttoning his pants. That and when I refer to myself as ‘mommy’ is when he’s suddenly so modest and embarrassed.” Jessica shook her head. “Anyway, you know how it is. Some people stop to watch a public spanking or think it’s good for their own to watch as a warning; others just keep walking. Makes no difference. I took his pants down, got the paddle out of the diaper bag, and put him over my knee. He managed to keep his composure for about two swats.”

“At least you left his diaper up.”

“O no, that came down as well. Public or not, he needed a bare bottom spanking. I don’t care if he is 36. If that boy needs a bare bottom spanking, I’m gonna bare and spank that bottom likes he’s 20 years old.”

“Hold on,” Susie said and took out her vibrating phone. A wide smile formed across her face, and she practically bounced in her seat in excitement. “Yes!”

“What? Share!”

“Jakey did it!”

“Really? Aww. That’s great. What exactly happened?”

“He just did it. Liz and him were playing with his cars, and he just filled his diaper right there.”

“He didn’t go and hide first?”

“Nope. Ugh, so proud.” Susie tapped on her phone and waited a few seconds for a reply. “And then when she asked him if he had anything to tell her, he actually told her what he’d done. Liz is a miracle worker! Any other sitter, he would’ve tried to hold it until he was in pain and then gone and hide. The only other person besides me he’ll just go around when he needs to is his mother, and not even me sometimes. I’m ordering more wine.”

“Champagne. Let’s celebrate.”

“Even better! Ya know, I think the last time I had champagne was when Jakey and I got married. His mother told me he was diaper-shy when we started negotiating, but I didn’t think we’d still be working on getting him over it for this long.” She let out a short sigh of contentment, flagged down their waitress and ordered a bottle of champagne. “Anyway,” she said as the waitress walked away, “you said four. That was only three.”

“Sorry?”

“You said the toy store incident led to spankings three and four, but that was only three.”

“O. Well, I got him rediapered and walked him out of the mall, sans pants of course. He cried most of the way home, and he was quiet and sulky all through dinner. We were doing the dishes together, and as soon as we were done – can you believe this – he actually asked me if we could go back to the toy store the next day.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not even a little. I explained natural consequences to him for about the billionth time and that he would not be getting a new toy this week, and that’s when meltdown number 2 started. I got the paddle right back out and bared him all over again, spanked his butt, and put him straight to bed after we had some cuddle time. To his credit, he did apologize the next day.”

“You definitely got a willful one,” Susie remarked.

“It’s why his mother wanted me to have him. She knew he’d need a firm hand.”

“Who did you get to babysit tonight?” Susie asked because Ryan had a reputation in the neighborhood; it wasn’t so easy finding a sitter for him.

“My mom.”

“Hopefully he’s being an angel for her.”

“Hopefully, but if history is any guide, he’s probably in a corner right now listening to Billy get a spanking and waiting for his turn. Those two get each other so wound up, it’s almost a certainty if they’re together for than an hour they’re going to get themselves in trouble.”

“How old is Billy now?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Is your mom having any luck finding him a wife?”

“it’s hard. He’s not exactly what women want in a husband these days.”

“It’s so unfair. It’s not his fault he has a big penis.”

Jess shrugged. “You know how much more work they can be, all the behavioral problems those men seem to have.”

“I think that’s a myth. If they’re well trained by their moms and their wives keep up with the training and milk them regularly, I think they’re angels.”

“Then do you want him? Mom’s been building up a pretty sweet dowry.”

Susie blushed. “Um, no. Sorry. One's enough for me.” Their champagne arrived, and they raised their glasses.

            Jess toasted, “To Jakey. Let’s hope tonight was a breakthrough and his diaper shyness is a thing of the past.”

            Susie toasted, “To Ryan. May he one day go an entire week without needing a spanking.”

            Jessica finished her flute of champagne in a swallow. “That’s how a wife who doesn’t have to pick up her husband until lunch time drinks,” Susie joked.

            “Damn right. I guess we should order some food before we go back to my place.”

            Susie looked around the restaurant. How quiet and clean and civilized it was, not a man in sight. Much as she looked forward to telling Jakey how proud of him she was for using his diaper like a good boy, she didn’t want Break Night/Date Night to end too soon.

 

[D503]

Love it! 

[YourFNF]

That was an interesting AU I wonder how subby little gay girls like me are handled in this universe? ??

[Alex Bridges]

1 hour ago, YourFNF said:

That was an interesting AU I wonder how subby little gay girls like me are handled in this universe? ??

Your other post I responded to this evening made me wonder the same thing. Mayhaps the basis for a future Dialogue...

[YourFNF]

8 hours ago, Alex Bridges said:

Your other post I responded to this evening made me wonder the same thing. Mayhaps the basis for a future Dialogue...

???

[Alex Bridges]

First Timer

 

 

Jane the newlywed dialed her mother-in-law, Kathy. “Hi, Jane. How are you today?”

“Good, good. Do you have a moment?”

“Sure. Is Timmy okay?” She was anxious; she’d never even sent him away to camp, and now someone else owned him.

“He’s fine,” Jane replied, looking through the living room to where Timmy was standing in the corner. “I’m having a little trouble with him and was hoping you could help me out.”

“Of course. Whatever I can do.” Her son had been married to Jane for two, now almost three, days. It was a big transition for everyone but especially Tim, like it is for all men, and doubly so because he had only ever had one owner, his mom. When she gave him away, she knew Jane would do things a little differently than she had in rearing him to age twenty-three, but of course that was much easier for Kathy to understand than Timmy.

“We’re having a little power struggle,” Jane reported. “Someone didn’t want to eat his vegetables because they’re not the way his mommy makes them, and that led to a tantrum, and now someone is waiting in the corner for a spanking.”

“O my.” Kathy knew Jane was pro-spanking when she agreed to give her Timmy to her. Kathy was not pro-spanking. “Well, what can I do?”

“Could you maybe have a little talk with him to reiterate things are different now and he needs to follow my directions?”

“Um, I can. But won’t that undermine you?” She didn’t want to undermine Jane, and she didn’t want to participate in her son’s spanking in any way.

“No, I don’t want to force him if I don’t have to, and I think he’ll cooperate if he understands me being in charge means in charge of everything. I know we’ve both had that talk with him several times, but one more time from you would help.” Jane had driven hard a bargain on the dowry because, obviously, the best trained men didn’t need to be told that more than once.

“But do you really have to spank him,” Kathy asked. She didn’t want her to.

“Well, I definitely do now. I can’t go back on it the very first time I give him a punishment.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“And I may not in the future. We’ll just see how he responds to it. It doesn’t work on every man.” Though she knew it worked on the vast majority; she expected it would work very well on a man who needed it as much as it was apparent that Timmy would need it. “But since I told him he’s getting a spanking, I have to follow through.”

“No, I agree,” Kathy said reluctantly. She hoped this would teach Jane to think twice before deciding on a spanking.

“But I don’t want to scare him or traumatize the poor guy. I could force him, but I was hoping you’d have a little talk with him and maybe convince him to cooperate like a good boy.”

Kathy didn’t respond for a moment. She was in a crummy position. She didn’t want her son spanked, but he wasn’t just her son anymore. Her son was married now, and she had to support her daughter-in-law. That would be best for Timmy in the long run. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you. I’ll put you on speakerphone.” She did and walked to the living room, coming up behind her obstinate husband and taking him by the ear back to the sofa.

“Ow ow ow,” Timmy whined. He was such a drama queen, and his ows only made Kathy more concerned. She swallowed it down.

Sitting on the sofa with him, Jane said, “Your mother is on the phone and has something to say to you.” She said it calmly but firmly.

Timmy was sure his mom would get him out of this. She’d gotten him out of lots of things. She didn’t even let the daycare teachers spank him, and they spanked everybody.

“Timmy?”

“Hi, Mom. Jane wants to spank me because I wouldn’t eat her vegetables and I like vegetables but yours are good and hers aren’t yours and I don’t get spanked tell her I don’t get spanked ... please?”

Kathy listened to the rush of words and let him finish. “Timmy, remember what we talked about at your bachelor party before the wedding? Things are different at other people’s houses, and you’re Jane’s husband now. You live at her house now. You need to try different things and do as she tells you.”

“But I don’t like her vegetables.”

“Did you even try them? I bet she makes yummy vegetables.”

“No ... but she says I need a spanking and I don’t and never have and don’t want one because everybody says they hurt and I don’t want one and people aren’t allowed to spank me because you always said.”

“Timmy .... Timmy,” Kathy cut in. “You need to listen to Jane. If she says you need a spanking, you need to be a good boy and let her spank you.” That was so hard for Kathy to say, but she thought of it like pulling off a band-aid. Her Timmy would not respond well to spanking, she was sure, and Jane would come around to Kathy’s way of disciplining Timmy.

“But I don’t get spanked. I don’t. Other men get spanked. I never get spanked. You never spanked me. I don’t get spanked. That’s for other men...”

“Timmy ... Timmy ... Timothy Edward! Things are different in different houses. I never spanked you, but now Jane is your wife. If she decides you need a spanking, you’re getting a spanking.”

“But ...”

“No. You’re ... you’re getting a spanking, Timmy.”

Timmy sniffled. “But I don’t ... but you never spanked me, Mommy.” Jane silently chuckled at how the prospect of a red butt turned Kathy from ‘mom’ into ‘mommy.’

“I know, baby ... but Jane is your wife now and she’s in charge of you. You love Jane, don’t you?”

“Yes (sniff).”

“And she loves you. She knows what’s best for you now, like we talked about. You need to listen to her.”

“(Sniff). Okay.”

“Be a brave boy and cooperate. Will you do that for Jane and me?”

“Yeah ... but just this once?”

Kathy hoped so, but replied, “Whenever she says, Timmy. I’m going to go now.”

“Can I call you after?”

“You can call her tomorrow,” Jane answered. “Say bye bye.”

“Bye bye. Love you, Mommy. (Sniff).”

“I love you too, Timmy. You’re such a brave, good boy. Night night.”

Jane took the phone off speaker and left Timmy sitting on the couch, walking back into the kitchen. “Thank you, Kathy. I know that was very hard for you.”

She didn’t respond right away. “I ... that was very hard ... (sniff) ... but learning to respect your authority is important. He’ll be better off for it.”

“He will,” Jane agreed, and chose not to add that had Kathy spanked him growing up and let other women do the same when he needed it, he wouldn’t be at all confused over who was in charge. She needed to train the man, but she didn’t want to frighten him or be harsh, hence calling her mother-in-law to have that heart-to-heart talk rather than spanking him into submission. She wasn’t ruling that out but wanted to avoid it if possible.

“I promise he will,” Jane added. “Thank you again for talking to him. You made this much easier for both of us ... well, I’ll call again after breakfast.”

“Promise me you’ll be gentle with him?”

Jane opened the cupboard door, on the back of which hung a paddle just like the one that hung in her mother’s cupboard. Many is the time she’d fetched the paddle and handed it to her mom, who would thank her as she took with her right hand while she held her father or whichever brother was in trouble with her left. Jane ran her finger down the edge, debating whether it was too harsh an introduction to spanking or if a harsh introduction is just what Timmy needed to learn she was in charge and to want to avoid future spankings at all costs.

“I promise. Thank you again. I’ll give him a kiss for you when it’s over.”

“Thank you.”

“Have a nice rest of the afternoon.”

“You too.”

Jane hung up and considered her choices again. Turning back to look into the living room, she saw Timmy quietly crying where she’d left him on the sofa. She turned back and took the paddle down, thinking she’d see how he responded to her hand first but intending to give him at least two with the paddle at the end to drive the point home.

“Timothy,” she said as she stood over him. He looked up at her and then at the paddle, his eyes transfixed by it. She sighed and sat down next to him, placing the paddle behind her and rubbing his back. For a moment she thought he was going to collapse onto her shirt front, but he didn’t. “Timothy, look at me please.” He did. “I’m very glad you married me, and I love you very much. Do you believe that?”

“Yes ... I love you too.”

“Husbands live with their wives, and their wives are in charge like their moms were in charge before. Things are different here, like your mom and I have both said. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“That means you need to do what I say when I say it, even if it’s different than it was at your mom’s house. Understand?”

“Mhmm.”

Jane sighed. Her brothers and her father all knew the proper way to respond; she’d worry about driving that lesson home later, but she did add, “Then you say, ‘Yes Ma’am, I understand.”

“Yes Ma’am, I understand.”

“When you don’t do what I say, that tells me you need a spanking. So because you didn’t do what I said, I’m going to spank your bottom. It’s going to hurt, and the next time I tell you do something, you’re going to remember that spankings hurt, and you’re going to do what I say.” At least, Jane thought, that’s the goal, but men never do fully grasp the lesson no matter how many times it’s taught, at least not in her experience. “Do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am, I understand.”

“Stand up, please.” Timmy stood slowly. Jane reached out and took him by his belt, tugging him gently in front of her. As she undid his belt, she decided she’d be dressing him in things with elastic waists for a while, at least until their first anniversary - much easier to take down for a quick on-the-spot correction. “Keep your hands at your sides,” she told him as she pulled his pants down.

She noted his pants were wet and sighed. “Step out.” He did, leaving him in his socks, tee shirt, and a pullup that had been dry fifteen only minutes ago, and Timmy hadn’t asked to be taken to the potty. Jane thought it was really great how Kathy put so much faith in her husband and two sons, but she was more of a realist. The changing table she told Timmy was just for bedtime and was only stocked with overnights had plenty of room for daytime diapers, which were stacked in the no-no room in the basement. That was next week’s transition for Timmy. Jane had no intention of spending the next twenty-three years of her life trying to potty train her husband the way Kathy had tried, or spending the dowry on pull-ups, expensive and hard to find and clearly a waste

She tore the sides of the pullup away, and Timothy covered himself. Who teaches men to be modest, she thought. She liked Kathy, but just didn’t understand why she’d go to such lengths. One more thing to work on. Modesty and potty training? Jane would be moving Timmy to a new daycare if they couldn’t handle Timmy the way she knew he needed to be handled, a change she negotiated with Kathy without too much difficulty (she’s just too much of a softie, Jane reflected), but when she told the daycare she’d be transitioning him to diapers and expected them to discipline him like they did the other men, the head teacher practically had a new spark in her eye, ready as she was to make up for years’ worth of spankings Timmy had earned and never gotten. With their help, Jane knew Timmy would be much better behaved by his twenty-fifth birthday. She set the wet things aside.

“I said hands at your sides,” she told him firmly. She knew you didn’t need to raise your voice at well trained men. Timmy slowly complied. She felt a little sorry for him. She saw men’s lack of modesty as one of the few things about being a man that seemed enjoyable, that sense of bodily abandon (if not freedom). She looked up at him.

“It’s time for your spanking. I’m going to lay you over my knee and spank your bare bottom until I think you’ve learned your lesson, and then we’re going to snuggle until you’ve calmed down. Then we’re talk about what you will do differently in the future, and then we’ll get you in your jammies, and you’ll finish your dinner. Then it’s an early bedtime. Understand?”

He nodded.

“Do you have any questions?”

“Am I allowed to cry,” he said with tears already running down his cheeks.

“Yes, sweetie, you’re allowed to cry all you want.” She guided him over her lap, and he meekly let her, just as she hoped the little talk with his mother would lead to.

“Ready,” she asked, when she got him situated.

“Is it over when I start crying,” he asked.

“No, sweetie, it’s not over when you start crying. Try to hold still.” She took a firm hold of his hip with her left hand and raised her right.

 

[Alex Bridges]

Closing the Deal

 

Patty opened the door to let Zoe in, greeting her warmly with, “So nice to see you again.”

“You as well! Thanks for letting me come over on such short notice.”

“I could tell you were nervous over the phone. Please, come in. Mark is in the living room.” Zoe followed Patty into the living room, where Mark was playing on a blanket with larger-sized building blocks, a pacifier in his mouth and a diaper peeking out from below his tee shirt.

“Mark, Zoe is here,” Patty said. He stood and bowed his head as he’d been taught to. It wasn’t so important to Patty, but she’d worked with Mark on remembering to be polite whenever a potential wife called on them.

“Hello, Mark,” Zoe acknowledged him. Mark couldn’t remember if he was supposed to say hello back and didn’t raise his head. After a moment, Patty apologized for him.

“It’s okay, Marky. You can go back to playing while we talk.” Turning to Zoe, Patty added, “Sorry. He’s very polite but gets flustered and forgets sometimes.”

“That’s okay. I can tell he’s a sweetheart.”

“Will you sit,” Patty asked, and the two of them sat down on the sofa and turned Mark’s cartoon off. If he minded, he didn’t say so and kept stacking and unstacking his blocks.

“Thank you,” Zoe said again. “I know this is kind of unusual, me being here without my mother. I just ...”

“Would you like to call her? You don’t have to do these negotiations alone.” This was the sixth conversation between them and the third time Zoe had seen Mark in person. Matriarchs were traditionally responsible for negotiating marriages, and though most families no longer held to the custom, particularly for a woman over twenty-five like Zoe, she came from a traditional family in a traditional community. Patty didn’t want to take advantage of Zoe, but she hoped to at least end the visit with an agreement-in-principle.

“No, that’s okay. I promised myself I wouldn’t sign anything. I just wanted to see him again.”

“I like that about you,” Patty told her. “It shows you’re careful. Getting a husband is a major responsibility. My sister had one of her boys returned to her, and neither of us wants that.”

Zoe chuckled. “Definitely not.” She paused awkwardly. “Can I play with him?”

“Of course. He’s very good at sharing.”

The two of them got on the floor at Mark’s level and helped him build with his blocks. Mark liked his suitor and did his best to show it by sliding her blocks for her to place.

As the tower got higher, Patty called a time out because, “Someone needs his diaper changed.”

“I’ll help,” Zoe volunteered. “I could use the practice.” Remembering she shouldn’t let on that she was leaning toward choosing Mark, she hastily added, “Whichever one I choose.”

“You don’t have much practice,” Patty asked casually. Most women had experience at least babysitting at some point in their lives. That was the kind of detail she wouldn’t have gotten if Zoe’s mother, much more experienced in marriage negotiations, were there.

“We don’t have many men in our family.”

“No brothers,” Patty asked as she walked back toward them with a wicker basket of changing supplies in hand.

“None. Mom had my sisters and me and took my father back to his mother ... But I have no intention of that. Really, that’s my mom. That’s not me.”

Patty sat back down. “I’m surprised she didn’t just get some at a bank.”

“She wanted to be sure she was getting what she paid for, is what she told me. You know some of the depositories, especially back then, were dishonest.”

“I’ve heard that. Marky, lay down for me.” Marky held on to his block and laid down for his mom. She lifted his shirt, exposing his tummy.

“He’s so cute,” Zoe said and reached out to tickle his belly, eliciting a laugh from the twenty-year-old. “You did a good job at that. And he’s so biddable. He just laid right down even though he was playing.”

“Well, I wanted him to be that way. It’s a trade off,” Patty said, wanting to be transparent. She wanted him to go to a good home and for things to work out between them. She didn’t want an unhappy wife divorcing him and bringing him back, not like her nephew and, apparently, Zoe’s father.

“Could you tell me a little more about that,” Zoe asked. The mysteries of man-rearing were not something her mother had ever talked about it, and her conservative religious school hadn’t gone into much detail in the health or home economics classes. Zoe managed to maintain her innocence even through college and despite having friends with dads and brothers. Her mother had never even let her babysit. It was only after insisting she wanted a husband and wanted to keep him that her mother had more actively engaged in the search, and she had then insisted on leading the negotiations as her mother had done for her.

“Well,” Patty said thoughtfully, “it’s not that Mark doesn’t know how to do things. He helps around the house and brushes his own teeth and those things. He can put on his shoes, but you have to tie them. And he can learn more if you teach him. He’s very smart.”

“You didn’t want him to learn more?” Mark laid there passively, accustomed to this happening six times a day and not paying much attention to any remark or question not addressed to him. It was a trait Zoe appreciated in a potential husband.

“Well, maybe I spoil him, but I know some women want a very simple husband. You know how it is - the more they can do, the more independent they start to think they are and the more behavioral issues they have. That’s not universal of course, but ya know.” She reached out and rubbed Marky’s belly. “This little guy doesn’t need much correction. I never even bought a paddle.”

“Really?” That was a rarity. Most wives kept one in the diaper bag, one in the kitchen, and one in their husbands’ nursery.

“Really,” Patty replied, not wholly truthfully. She had a paddle, but she didn’t buy it. It was part of her husband’s dowry, though she’d never used it on Mark and only a few times on her husband, who was outside doing chores. “At most he just needs some taps from momma’s spoon to get him back on track,” Patty said, which was true.

“That’s part of why I’m leaning toward Mark. Since I haven’t really been around a lot of men or have much experience with caring for them, I thought it’d be smart if my first one was easy.” She knew she wasn’t supposed to admit these things, but she felt a rapport with Patty and hoped it wouldn’t undermine the deal they might make or make Patty decide she didn’t want Mark in Zoe’s care.

“That is smart. You can always get another one if you decide you want a more independent husband, too ... And of course I’ll help you. I may not be his owner after the wedding, but I’ll always be his mom,” she said while playing with Mark’s hair. “Won’t I be,” she said in that breathy, sing-song tone men like Mark seem to respond so well to. “Yes I will! Yes mommy will!”

“My mom will help out, too,” Zoe said, sounding dismayed. She was trying to remember to play it cool and make herself and her home out to be the perfect place for him, but she couldn’t hide that she wanted him and wanted to bring the drawn out negotiations to a close. At the same time, she knew she and her mother had different philosophies on wifeing and man-rearing.

Patty wasn’t sure she liked the idea of Zoe’s mom being involved in Mark’s care. While both mothers’ involvement was a given for first-time brides, Zoe’s mother didn’t sound like the kind and gentle caregiver she wanted for Mark. The negotiation, of course, went both ways. Just because money changed hands didn’t mean it was a transaction, after all. Patty wanted the best for Mark.

“You gonna help me change his pants,” Patty asked, trying to lighten the tension.

“Yeah ... does he squirm?”

“Not often. Well, not unless you make him,” Patty laughed. “Need me to talk you through it?”

“Promise you won’t think I’m not ready to get married if I say yes?” Mark played with the block in his hand.

“Of course, sweetheart. Just undo the tapes first but leave the diaper where it is.” Zoe did, and Patty slid the basket of supplies toward Zoe. “It’s always best to get everything ready before you open the diaper. You don’t know what you’ll find in there, and men sometimes pee as soon as the air hits them. You gotta be ready to dodge.”

“Really,” Zoe asked, sounding concerned.

“It’s just part of being a wife.”

“Okay,” Zoe said and first got a new diaper out of the basket and unfolded it.

“You’ll need ... Sorry, you would need to keep using that brand. It’s expensive, but it’s hypoallergenic. He breaks out in a rash with other brands.”

Zoe next took out the container of wipes and opened it, plucking one out and holding it.

“Okay,” Patty said, “now you can fold his diaper down, but do it slowly at first. In case he starts to pee you can cover him real fast ... if he’s not peeing yet he’s probably not gonna.”

“Do I need to lift his legs back or roll him on his side?” He was smaller than men had been even just two generations ago, but he was still as big as she was. She’d seen women lifting their husbands’ legs back on YouTube when she watched instructional videos, but he just seemed too heavy for that. She figured it was something wives just got good at.

“For dirty ones he’ll roll over onto his side when you tell him. For wet ones you just need to ask him to open his knees. Open up, Marky. Good boy!”

Zoe chuckled. “He really is a good boy, holding still this whole time. You have him so well trained ... I don’t want one of those husbands you have to chase when they need a new diaper,” she laughed nervously. She turned back to the task at hand. “Wow,” she said, “you didn’t exaggerate. He’s so small.”

“Just like his father. You just take the wipes and make sure you get everywhere, especially in his creases and under his foreskin. We don’t want any itchy rashes.”

Zoe wiped around his pubic mound and under his scrotum and in the creases inside his thighs. She’d seen a penis, obviously, but never touched one. It didn’t seem nearly so icky as all the women she knew made it out to be, certainly not as bad as the impression she’d come away with from the jokes wives made on sitcoms, though she wasn’t sure if that was just because he was so small. She tentatively lifted it between her left thumb and forefinger, carefully pulling back his foreskin to clean him thoroughly.

“Um … ” she said and blushed as it grew stiff in her fingers.

Patty blushed as well, embarrassed it would do that in front of a suitor the very first time she saw it, but of course Mark was blameless. She rushed to downplay it, hoping it wouldn’t make Zoe change her mind about him.

“It’s fine,” Patty said. “It doesn’t happen every time. Next you sprinkle some powder on him.”

“I thought they don’t do that if you milk them regularly. Um, have you, uh, milked him regularly?”

“I do,” Patty said, trying to pull Zoe’s attention away from it. It was still erect. “Anyway, you don’t need too much powder.”

“I thought you’re supposed to use rash cream next,” Zoe ventured. The things she’d read and seen said so.

“Um, usually, yes,” Patty agreed. She didn’t want Zoe to rub rash cream on him for fear he’d ejaculate. That it was still stiff was just adding to her embarrassment, too aware it was reflecting on her care of him as a mother. She didn’t believe in all the same things other mothers did when it came to milking, but she took excellent care of her Marky. Zoe seemed like an almost ideal owner for him, and she didn’t want one very little erection to spoil the deal.

Zoe, however, was clearly distracted by it. Everything she had read, which admittedly wasn’t much, emphasized this shouldn’t happen if the man was properly trained and milked regularly, and that if it did happen either the woman responsible for the man hadn’t trained and cared for him well, the man was poorly behaved and maybe even incorrigible, or all of the above.

“But ... I’m sorry, I’m not judging. He’s yours, so please don’t think I’m judging. But you do milk him regularly, don’t you? I mean, I thought this didn’t happen if you ...” She wasn’t disgusted by it so much as she thought she was supposed to be disgusted by it. That she wasn’t was making her insecure. She had grown up in a culture that stigmatized unsolicited erections, especially during diaper changes. That it didn’t bother her perhaps led her to overreact so she would seem like what she thought was normal. Surely her mother would have reacted very negatively and would approve of Zoe doing so if only as a negotiating tactic.

“I do,” Patty said again. “I swear. It’s just ... how much do you know about milking?”

Zoe blushed. It was the most taboo subject in the world she’d grown up in. Her mother would unashamedly talk about returning her husband and keeping the dowry, confessing to marrying him just for his genetic material, but talking about how she had gotten the material was absolutely off limits. “Um, not much, actually.” She seemed to pass from embarrassed to sullen, this confession another revelation she feared would make her an unfit wife in Patty’s eyes. She started to rise, murmuring an apology and regretting coming here without her mother.

“It’s okay,” Patty said, her voice soft and soothing as she retook the negotiating high ground. “Sit. Please.”

“I’m not ...” Ready to be a wife is how she would’ve finished the sentence had she not stopped herself.

“Sit. Let’s just talk. It’s okay, promise.” She sat. Zoe had at least been taught to obey older women; the religious community she grew up was insistent on the hierarchy of the matriarchy. It was out of step with society in the degree to which they took that maxim.

Patty took Zoe’s hand, and asked her directly, “Was that your first time touching one?” Zoe nodded. “Well, if I had known that I would’ve talked you through it more. Do you want me to?”

Zoe felt like she was breaking so many rules when she said, “Yes. I’ve tried to get Mom to talk about it, but she says that’s for after marriage.”

That caught Patty off guard. She understood so much better now. Milking men hadn’t been taboo in mainstream society in at least a couple decades. It wasn’t dinner table conversation, but it wasn’t taboo. Even babysitters would do it if they had to, no different than attending to any other bodily function if the need arose while a man was in their care. No one looks forward to doing it, and if done regularly it wasn’t something a babysitter should have to do unless they were watching the man for a whole week, but it was hardly taboo anymore, much less something shameful that only married women did or knew about.

“I’m, um, not judging,” Patty said, “but, um, are you a member of People of the Spirit?”

“Yes,” Zoe answered just above a whisper. She’d always been proud of her faith. Only in the moment, realizing how poorly prepared she was to care for a husband even at the age of twenty-eight, did she feel embarrassed by her community. But if she wanted to learn this even if her mother insisted she wait for marriage, Zoe was beginning to suspect they weren’t all her beliefs so much as her mother’s.

“That’s okay!” Patty was quick to say. “That’s okay! We go to church every Sunday. Mark loves it ... Are you sure you want me to teach you about this? You don’t want your own mother to do it?”

“No, I want to learn. If you’re not uncomfortable with it.”

“Sweetie, there’s nothing to be uncomfortable about, is the first lesson. Man parts and milking and erections are not a big deal at all,” Patty said with what she hoped was not a condescending tone.

“I know!” Zoe exclaimed. “I mean, I never thought so, but even ...” She looked at it, still pointing straight up. “I thought I was supposed to be grossed out by it. It’s not a big deal. I mean, look at it.” Zoe looked again and shrugged.

“Exactly. I know everyone jokes about it, but every wife does this. It’s the same as anything else they might do in their diapers.”

“Well, what’s the ...” Zoe didn’t know what question to ask.

After Zoe didn’t finish the sentence, Patty decided to just show her. “First,” she said reaching over to gently wrap her forefinger around it, “this is his clitty.” Mark just laid there obediently, though he stopped paying attention to his block.

“You don’t call it a ...”

“We don’t use the p-word around him. Some men hear that and start getting all sorts of mistaken ideas about themselves. This is his clitty,” she said again, giving it a little shake, “and like all man clitties, it has a mind of its own. You can milk them every day, and a man might still get an erection for no reason at all, especially during a diaper change.”

“What are you supposed to do if that happens?”

“You can ignore it if you want to. You don’t need to do anything with it except point it down and put their diaper on. All except the biggest clitties can still fit in a diaper when they’re erect, though it might not be so comfortable for the man.”

“Do they ejaculate?”

“What, you mean on their own?”

“I mean how does the erection go away if you put the diaper on over it?”

Patty did a good job hiding her surprise at just how naive Zoe was. “It just goes away if you leave it alone.”

“But his clitty is still ... up.”

Tipping her cards in the negotiation, Patty smiled and confessed, “That’s because he likes you. He told me so after he first met you.”

“But ... I thought they can’t control it.”

“They can’t.”

“But you said it’s because he likes me. So is he ... so it’s not purpose? He’s not trying to show me he likes me?”

Patty didn’t actually know any members of People of the Spirit. It wasn’t a large group; it just stood out because of how retrograde its teachings were and how poorly they prepared their kids for life as adults. Clearly what she had heard about the group was not exaggerated. “No, honey, they just do it sometimes for no reason, but it’s more likely when they like you.”

“Even if you milk them?”

“Yep. Do you want to learn about milking?”

“Yes please.” She felt like she was learning more in Patty’s living room in a single visit that was less than an hour old than she had in all her years at school and home.

“What do you already know?”

“Just that making them ejaculate regularly keeps them better behaved and prevents ... those.”

“So you don’t know how it’s done?”

“No.” She’s been too embarrassed to look it up even though there hadn’t been parental controls on her computer for ten years.

“Okay,” Patty said. She didn’t have a daughter and had never taught anyone before, but it was simple enough. “Well, it’s really simple. You don’t need anything other than your hand.”

Zoe blushed all the way to her ears. “Like, your bare hand? Aren’t there ... aren’t you supposed to use the tools they make for it?”

That was where Patty’s beliefs and practices on milking first diverged from the mainstream. She’d tried those devices before and never really saw what made them so much better than just using her hand. It was so convenient: she never had to go get a device or find batteries or sanitize the tool beyond a quick trip to wash her hands.

She also, though, was less inclined to see milking itself as being nearly as important as most other women did. They treated milking as a chore and something so integral to their men’s good behavior that they’d sooner have their men miss their nap time than skip a milking. Newfangled hogwash from uptight germaphobes, Patty thought. Perhaps it was generational, but Patty was an older mom, and she liked being a man mom, an even rarer trait. Mark was her sixth.

“They do make devices for it,” Patty told her, glad she could pass on real wisdom and counter what all the new marriage guides were preaching these days, “and they’re okay. You can use those, but your hand works almost as well and is so much more convenient.”

“Even if it doesn’t work as well?”

“The devices do a slightly better job at getting every last drop, but it’s okay if there’s a little left in there.”

“But doesn’t that mean you have to do it more often?”

“Maybe a little, but like I said, it’s not a big deal. It only takes a few minutes.”

Zoe clearly looked skeptical. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But everyone makes it sound like it’s this huge chore.”

“That’s because they make such a big deal about anything to do with clitties anyway. But look, there it is. It’s fine, right? Just another part of him.”

“Yeah ...”

“Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s not still a wittle weewee.”

“And what about what comes out?”

“Just one more thing he puts in his diaper.”

“So you do it in his diaper.”

“You can. I don’t usually.”

“But doesn’t it make a huge mess. I mean, if he peed without his diaper on ...”

“It’s a lot less fluid than everyone makes it out to be. Do you want me to just show you?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. And he doesn’t mind.”

Patty chuckled. “Of course he doesn’t mind, and even if he did, he’s a man. I love him, but he’s still a man. Roll over, Marky. Let’s show Zoe where things are.” He complied; if he was embarrassed, he still did as we was told. Turning back to Zoe, Patty continued, “There’s more than one way. I’ll just finish the one but I’ll give you the lay of the land, so to speak.” She reached into the basket and took out the rash cream. “For starters,” Patty said, “this stuff works just as well as the lubricant they sell just for milking, and this is much cheaper.” She applied some to the middle finger of her right hand. “Scoot closer so you can see,” she said to Zoe. To Mark, she said, “You gonna be my big man and hold still for momma?” He nodded shyly. Patty ran the fingertips of her clean hand over his bottom, tickling him gently. “That relaxes him. See?” Mark seemed to shudder and clenched his toes, relaxing his whole body as he unclenched them.

“Aww. That’s adorable.” It made even less sense why everyone made this out to be the worst part of being a wife. Mark was being such a good boy doing as he was told and holding mostly still and being quiet.

“I know, right? So just like we call it a clitty, we call this his button,” Patty said as she spread his cheeks. “Inside his button is his prostate. It’s about halfway between his button and the base of his clitty. You can milk him by massaging this prostate. See how my finger is pointed?” She crooked her finger. “Once your finger is inside him, you just need to bend your finger like this and feel around until you feel something round and hard and about the size of a walnut.” She demonstrated. Mark held mostly still as she entered him and found his prostate. “Right ... there.”

“So you just poke it?”

“No, you need to rub it and massage it with your finger.” She kept demonstrating. Mark quietly squirmed but barely, as he’d been taught to do, taking his milking obediently. “They make tools for this; the ones that vibrate are most effective, and a little quicker, but this works nearly as well. You can move your finger in and out as you go, like this ... Massaging his prostate will get the most fluid out at one time. Wanna try,” Patty asked as she withdrew her finger.

“Um, okay,” Zoe said nervously.

Patty correctly guessed the reason for her trepidation. “There’s gloves in the basket.”

Zoe donned one. “How much rash cream do I use?”

“Best to use about as much a grape, but you can use half that in a pinch. He has enough already. Too much makes it take longer.” Patty reached for a wipe and cleaned her finger off.

“Oh ... like this?”

“Keep your finger mostly straight until it’s inside him.”

Zoe tentatively entered him. “How far in,” she asked. She was afraid of hurting him and unaccustomed to how a man felt around her finger.

“So you feel the first muscle right when you enter his button, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s his outer sphincter. Keep going and you’ll feel another muscle very tight around your finger. That’s his inner sphincter.”

“Okay,” Zoe said as her reached it.

“Now keep going … keep going.” Patty watched Zoe’s finger disappear knuckle by knuckle. She appreciated Zoe being gentle with Mark; it was reassuring that even if Zoe had a lot to learn, she wasn’t the type to treat a man like livestock. “Good job being gentle. Now bend your finger toward his front. Feel it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s okay to search for it ... feel it?”

“No,” Zoe said, afraid not finding it on her first try would once more make her out as not ready for marriage.

“Here,” Patty said and scooted over. “It takes practice is all. Open your legs a little, Marky.” He did. “You can also stimulate it from the outside if you press about halfway between his scrotum and his button. Right about ... there. See where my hand is?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, give me your other hand.” Patty gently took Zoe’s hand and guided it to Mark’s perineum, laying her fingers flat against the same spot and placing her hand over Zoe’s. “See how he reacts when you just apply pressure here?” Mark’s leg twitched. He got himself under control as he’d been taught to and held still even as his breathing grew more rhythmic and audible.

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes if you can’t find it on the inside, it helps to use your other hand to find it on the outside by just pressing down and sort of pulling gently toward his button.” Zoe let Patty do just that with her hand over hers. “Try now. Feel around again.”

Zoe had left her finger in since she wasn’t told otherwise. “Feeling ... I think ... I feel something!”

“Size of a walnut?”

“Yeah!”

“That’s it! Well done.” Patty felt oddly proud of Zoe. She rubbed Mark’s lower back and cooed, “Such a good boy. Keep holding still.” Mark lifted his head and laid it back down across his folded arms.

“This is so cool!” She remembered to feel embarrassed. “I mean, not so bad.”

“It’s fine, Zoe, really. You don’t have to feel ashamed for not hating it. It’s an achievement your first time.”

That was nice to hear. She’d never be able to tell her mother, though. “I just rub it with my finger?”

“Yep. Back and forth. Or make little circles. But not too much.”

Zoe stopped. “Why not?”

“I want to show you the other way, too. If you finish, I can’t show you the other way. They need time in between.”

“So to finish I’d just keep making circles?”

“Pretty much. Moving it in and out as you go speeds it up a little.”

“Should I take my finger out?”

“Yeah.”

She did and removed the glove, and though she’d worn one Patty handed her a wipe anyway. Mark groaned and kicked his foot just a little, causing Zoe to ask, “Did I hurt him,” with concern.

Patty gave Mark a light spank. “Not at all. They just don’t like it if you stop without finishing. Just be patient, Marky. Anyway, like I said, that gets the most fluid out, especially if you use a tool and especially a vibrating tool. You can do it anywhere, but it works best with them on their knees or on their changing table, plus those are easier on your back.”

“How is the changing table different from the floor?”

“You know that hole under where the changing pad goes?”

Zoe seemed to think for a moment, her eyes turning up and to the left before she blushed with the realization. “That’s what that’s for!?!”

“Yep, for their clitty to go through. That’s much more comfortable for them if you’re using the prostate method and makes it easier to collect if you’re selling it.”

“Is his marketable?”

“Yep. I told your mother. Guess she didn’t tell you.”

“No,” Zoe said, her irritation evident.

“He was evaluated on his birthday. He has very good motility, and his features are in demand, as you know. Men like him are very chic right now,” Patty said with a wink.

“If I wanted to collect it, how much would I get?”

“I’m assuming you mean money,” Patty deadpanned.

“Patty,” Zoe squealed and laughed.

“At the moment, $1,000 per but you know that can change if his traits become less trendy and as he gets older. If you’re going to do it, you would definitely want to starting doing it now. They do make a tool for harvesting, and just for that I think it would be worth it. It’s very efficient.”

“How’s it different from the other tools?”

“The other tools just vibrate ... You have a vibrator, don’t you?”

“Of course.” Several.

“Thought so. Just wasn’t sure.”

“We’re religious, not nut jobs.”

“I didn’t mean...”

“I know. Sorry. You were saying.”

“The vibrators for his prostate are just like yours, just shaped differently. It takes a few minutes at least to work, right? If you’re going to harvest him, they also make an electric prod that goes into his button just like your finger did. The little jolt of electricity will make him ejaculate instantly.”

“That doesn’t hurt him?”

“Well, I would imagine yes and no at the same time. I have a few friends who do it, and their husbands don’t seem to mind. You ready to learn the other way?”

“Yeah.”

“Roll back over, Marky. Legs open like momma taught you.” Mark rolled over, a subtle, pleading look in his eyes. “Lift your hips, baby.” He did, and Patty removed the wet and disheveled diaper. “Wanna put his new diaper under him?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t close its yet, but you can fold it over to make sure it’s in the right spot ... little lower. That’s perfect. You can put your bottom down, sweetheart,” she said to her twenty-two-year-old son. To Zoe, she said, “You’ll get so good at that in the first week of marriage you won’t ever need a second try.” She rolled up the used diaper.

“Um, shouldn’t we have done this in his old diaper, instead of getting it on the new one?”

“You can, but like I said, it’s not nearly as much fluid as you’re probably thinking. If some gets in his new diaper, you can just tape it shut. Doesn’t ruin it. In fact, I prefer it ends up in there than anywhere else. I’ll show you how that works some other day.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t readily imagine how to milk him through a diaper.

“So the other main way,” Patty said, “is by massaging his clitty. You can use the rash cream again like before.” She applied some to her fingers. “Now, this method doesn’t get out quite as much fluid, so you’ll have to do it more often, but it’s quick and doesn’t require going inside his button.”

“Yeah...”

“Didn’t like that part?”

“I mean, it was fine. It was kinda cool even, but I can see why most women don’t like doing it. It’s ...”

“Still a button. I get it. Which is why I prefer this method. It’s totally worth it to me do this a little more often than to do it the other way a little less often.”

“Does he have a preference?”

“Ya know, I’ve never asked,” Patty replied. If he did have a preference, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference. It really wasn’t Mark’s concern how he got milked. “Anyway, you take his clitty in your fingers, and you only need three fingers for a man his size: your thumb, your forefinger, and your middle finger.”

“It’s not hard anymore.”

“That just takes a second.” She took his penis in her fingers, using her thumb to rub under and around his glans. “See? Just takes a second.” Mark bit his lip and closed his eyes tight. Patty smiled at him. “I also like doing it this way because it’s more, I don’t know, interactive, sort of … It’s just like his prostate. You want to mostly focus on the top of it, and you can rub it up and down or in circles or just squeeze it gently in and out your fingers.”

“Do you need to rub it all the way down and back?” Mark didn’t have much ‘down.’

“No. That helps on bigger men, but Marky has a pretty small clitty. Just use your fingers like this.” She rolled her thumb over and over on his glans.

Zoe looked at Mark’s face, a look of concentration behind eyes squinched tight. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt him?”

“Absolutely it doesn’t,” Patty chuckled. “All men make a face like that when they’re being milked. Are you ready to try?”

“Yeah.”

“You can use a glove if you want to.”

“No,” she replied, wanting to seem more confident than she felt. “This is cleaner than the other way. It’s fine.”

“Add a little of the cream to your fingers first, but not as much as you saw me use ... okay, now just take his clitty between your fingers and thumb like you saw me do...”

“O my. It’s so hot.”

“Mhmm. That’s because of the blood flow, which is what makes clitties hard.”

“And just start rubbing like this?”

“Yep. See? Nothing to it. And not a big deal at all.”

“No. Not at all.” Really, she couldn’t see what the fuss was about now that she was actually doing it. This didn’t seem bad at all, and certainly not something so bad she wanted to use the prostate method just to be able to do it less often. That seemed better if there was a specific reason to do it, but this was so easy. His clitty wasn’t something she wanted to take a picture of to keep on the mantle, but it was much better than dealing with his button.

“Now,” Patty said, “Mark has been very well trained to hold mostly still and stay quiet for his milkings, but he is going to squirm a little and make a little noise. All men do that right before they ejaculate.”

“Do I need to, like, watch out?”

“How do you mean?”

“He’s not going to accidentally kick me or something?”

“Ha! No, sweetie. Here, I’ll show you: turn your hand around like this,” she said making the motion herself, “so your thumb is underneath it, and rub up and down right in the center of the clitty head. Yeah, like that, but just in the center.”

Mark moaned louder and repeatedly, and his squirming turned to writhing.

“That’s so cool!”

“He likes that part a lot,” Patty chuckled.

Zoe turned her hand back, and Mark calmed down. She turned it forward again, and he started to writhe again. “Neat,” she said under her breath. Turning back to Patty she said, “It’s like when you scratch a dog in the right spot and they start kicking their leg.”

“Exactly. Same concept ... You can encourage them while you do it, too. I always like to.” She turned from Zoe to Mark. “What a good boy you’re being! Who’s a good boy? Hmm? Show us what a good boy you are!” Mark smiled behind his pacifier with his eyes still closed. “Okay, he’s almost ready. Take a wipe in your other hand.” Patty handed her one. “And when he starts to ejaculate you can just cover him with that.”

“It happens just all of a sudden?”

“Sort of. First ...”

“Ope!” Zoe practically jumped. “Something is leaking out! Is that it?”

“Don’t stop. That’s precum. Just a few more seconds. Keep going until I say stop.”

Mark moaned behind his pacifier and bucked his hips on the diaper as he ejaculated. Zoe positioned the wipe to catch it and kept going.

“Slow down,” Patty instructed. “Just like that. Slower and slower until his hips stop moving ... there.” Zoe was wide eyed, her hand still on his clitty as it softened. “Now, to make sure as much of it as possible is out, go to the base of his clitty and squeeze gently.” He was so small, there wasn’t much base to squeeze.

“Like this?”

“Yep. You just need two fingers, and then slide them up to the top. Keep squeezing, not too hard. Good. Do that a couple more times ... there.” Patty shrugged. “That’s all there is to it. I like to praise him for it.”

Zoe was smiling ear to ear. In a baby talk voice like Patty had used, Zoe told Mark, “You did such a good job, Marky! Thank you for being my good boy.” She was feeling more like an adult than she ever had before even though she’d been working and living on her own for six years. She knew it was silly - women younger than her did this - but given it was her first time, it felt like a big deal anyway. “Now what,” she asked as she wiped her hands.

“Don’t clean your hands just yet. You have a diaper change to finish. Make sure you get the rash cream in his creases especially. That’s where Marky likes to get a diapee rash.”

Zoe applied the cream and then sprinkled some powder on him. She looked up at Mark’s face. “He’s asleep,” she whispered.

“He’ll be awake again in just a minute. They almost always fall asleep for a few minutes right after they’re milked.”

“Anything else?”

“Just tape that diaper on him snug.” Zoe did.

Patty stood first and whispered, “Let’s go wash our hands.” They retreated to the kitchen.

“So,” Zoe asked as she dried her hands, “how often do they need to be milked if you do it that way?”

“Every five days or so. With the other way, it’s maybe seven, so not a huge difference. If I’m leaving him in a nursery while I go on vacation, I’ll use the prostate method before I go.”

“And with the clitty way, how often do they get unsolicited erections?”

“It varies. But are unsolicited erections really that bad?”

“No ...” She hesitated, knowing she wasn’t supposed to admit this to anyone but thinking Patty seemed like a safe person to admit it to. “I think his clitty was kind of adorable.”

“Hehe. I think so too. I know we’re all supposed to be grossed out, but it’s just a clitty ... the bigger ones are kinda gross though, I’ll agree with that at least ... anyway, I milk him every five days, and if his clitty is getting hard in between a lot, I’ll do it at diaper changes, too. Not every change, but maybe once a day for two days gets him back on schedule.”

“It was fun in a way.”

Patty knew Zoe was saying that as someone who just did it for the first time. It would get less fun and be more like all the other caregiver tasks she did for him, but she didn’t think it was no fun at all and didn’t want to discourage her. “Yeah, I think so. I like making him feel good. I am his momma after all. We gotta keep them in line, but we still love them.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing that more often than every five days. It only takes a second ... And you were right. That wasn’t nearly as messy as I thought.”

Patty smiled. She liked Zoe. She wanted someone gentle and willing to try new things and be open minded for her Marky. Zoe had a lot to learn about man-rearing, and Patty didn’t like the idea of Zoe’s mother playing a major role in Mark’s care. She expected her mother would take over and bully her daughter into strict and clinical treatment of her Marky. But she liked Zoe. “Do you wanna wake him up,” she asked.

“Sure.” They walked back into the living room, where Zoe knelt down over Mark, still conscious that this was an audition for her too, and traced her finger lightly down Mark’s cheek. He turned toward her by instinct as if to root.

“Marky,” she sang at a whisper. His eyes opened. “Hey, little fella.” He smiled behind his pacifier, blushed, and turned away. If Patty had taught him to count, he could’ve counted on one hand the number of women who had done that to him.

“He’s so shy,” Zoe remarked as she straightened up.

“Well, this is only the third time you’ve been together. He gets a lot less shy when he gets to know people.”

Zoe sat down on the sofa next to Patty. “And you promise he is verbal?”

“He’s a regular chatterbox when he feels comfortable around you. He knows a couple hundred words, and he can learn more ... Marky, c’mere baby.” Patty held her hands out as Mark finished his wake-up stretch. He got up and sat down in his mother’s lap. “Can you thank Zoe for milking your clitty?” Mark blushed again, shook his head, and buried his face in his mother’s breast. She laughed and patted his back. “Can you at least give her a hug?”

He sat up, and Zoe straightened up to receive him, opening her arms. Mark pivoted and awkwardly slid from his mother’s lap onto the sofa, putting his arms out as he leaned forward and fell into a hug low around Zoe’s waist.

“Ohh huhuh. That’s a sweet man,” Zoe said she patted his back. With Patty’s help, Zoe was able to coax Mark into her lap.

“That’s why training is important,” Patty said. “They’re too big to make them do anything they don’t want to do, but you can make them want to do it.”

Zoe was paying more attention to the man in her lap. She noticed how sweet his hair smelled, how soft and warm he was, and the way he seemed to change from giving her a perfunctory hug because he was told to to the way he seemed to nestle his head on Zoe because he wanted to, growing cuddlier by the moment. She rubbed circles on his back, interrupted by the occasional pat.

“Well,” Patty asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I know what my mother would say ... Especially with him getting erections and needing to be milked more often ... But he is sweet”

“Very sweet.”

“And he is obedient ... he did such a good job holding still for his milking.”

“And many men just can’t do that. Some even need to be restrained to keep them in place.” Though Patty suspected that said more about their wives’ prostrate massage technique, or lack thereof, than about the men’s behavior.

“And he is cute.”

“I can just about promise you you’re not going to find an easier husband, and I know that’s important to you for your first one. Is there anything I can say to sweeten the deal?”

“I want him ... I’m just worried about my mother. She’s going to be involved a lot, especially at first … I think the milking thing would be a deal breaker for her.” It wasn’t her mother’s decision, but she had a say both by custom and because Zoe would need her to be involved. In theory she could do it all on her own, but that wouldn’t sit well with their religious community and would be a tremendous challenge for a woman without a partner.

“But to be clear, it’s not for you? A deal breaker, I mean?”

“No, I don’t mind that.” Bad sitcom jokes and put upon wives aside, she agreed with Patty. Milking his clitty during a diaper change was just one more thing. The way he squirmed and then fell asleep was cute in its way.

“What if ... what if you moved in here for the first year, rent free? You can learn all about man-rearing from me, and that way your mother doesn’t really have to be involved in anything you don’t want her to be involved in?” Patty preferred that solution to protect Mark from Zoe’s mother and the People of the Spirit, whom she heard were very communal in their man-rearing and severe in their approach to it.

“That could work,” Zoe replied.

“And if you do want to harvest him, I’ll even spring for the stimulator and collection device.”

Zoe took a moment and began to slowly nod her head. She wanted Mark, and the living arrangement and his spermatozoa in addition to the dowry added up to quite a lot of value. “Deal.”

“You’re sure your mother will approve it?”

“I think so, especially if she doesn’t have to do any of the man-rearing ... And if not, her approval is just a custom, not the law. Ope!”

“What?”

“I think he’s pooing,” Zoe whispered.

Patty smiled. “I think you’ve learned enough for one day.” She held out her hands. “C’mere, Marky. Let’s go change your stinky pants.”

“Are you sure he’s done?”

“I know my Marky. He will be by the time we get upstairs. Why don’t you go call your mother?”

“Sounds good. Bye bye, Marky,” she waved as Patty led the waddling man upstairs. “See you at our wedding.”

[Alex Bridges]

It’s Really Okay

 

Becky had gone in search of a project, and now he was somewhere in the house. Ben was thirty-six and had been married to an unkind woman his mother had finally pried him back from, and Becky was intent on helping him become happy again. Six months into their marriage, he mostly was, an active, talkative, kind man who liked YA fiction and playing in his wading pool in equal measures.

He was wonderfully behaved, having needed just one correction since their wedding when Becky found him getting things out from under the sink, which turned out to be a misunderstanding. Still, he remembered his first wife, and when he was afraid he was in trouble the happy man disappeared and the frightened, cowed husband came back out. He would stop playing, stop talking, and go hide.

By late morning, as Becky was wiping down the kitchen and getting ready to start on lunch, she realized it was too quiet. She went in search of Ben and found him in the corner of his bedroom, nose in the corner.

“Ben, you okay, buddy,” she asked, wondering what the wounded man was afraid he’d done wrong now. He didn’t respond or turn around. She approached him and reached out to put her hand on his shoulder. He flinched and sniffled. She turned him around. “Why’ve you been crying, sweetie?” He didn’t answer. She didn’t expect him to, but she always asked anyway, her effort to help him know it was okay to tell her what he was feeling even when he was afraid.

He was holding her hairbrush, a habit she surmised stemmed from being told to go and get it whenever he was in trouble with his first wife. She told him so many times she wasn’t ever going to spank him with the brush, but he would often go and get it anyway. She cursed his first wife silently and took it from his hand, putting it in her pocket.

She took him by the hand and led him toward his nightstand, where she always made sure was a box of tissues. She plucked one and wiped his tears away, bent her knees a little to look him in the eye, and said to him, “We’ve talked about this, remember? You’re not in trouble, sweetie. You don’t need to bring me the brush or put yourself in timeout. Remember?”

He nodded slowly, but avoided looking her in the eye. She grimaced and reached for another tissue, holding it to his nose. “Blow for me,” she said in the nicest voice she had. He responded well to that tone most of the time. He blew his nose.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He didn’t answer.

She looked around the room. A broken toy, a small mess, a spilled cup - these were the sorts of things he was certain he would be in trouble for, and as much as she would tell him it wasn’t a big deal, that he wasn’t in trouble, and that he should go play while she fixed it or cleaned it up, he’d stand there silently. Only when whatever it was had been fixed and they’d had some cuddle time would he come back out and go back to being his happy, chatty self.

She didn’t see any mess, so she took his hand again and walked him to the bathroom. He liked to play with his boats in the tub. But there was no mess in there. She looked in the hamper, but there was no mess in there. He’d been playing upstairs since breakfast.

“Benny, is there something you want to show me?” He didn’t answer. “Even if I double pinky promise again that you’re not in trouble?”

She sighed and straightened up, giving him a kiss on his forehead and a hug. Maybe Beth, her wife and his other mommy, would be able to coax it out of him. She was coming home to have lunch with them and had an especially good rapport with him. Becky would sit with him on the couch until then, putting on a superhero movie and trying to interest him in it.

She had an epiphany as she passed his room with him in tow and stopped, stepped around him, and pulled out the back of his diaper.

“Nope,” she said, and felt around to his front. “But let’s go change those wet pants.” Taking his hand again, she started toward his room. He didn’t pull away but he didn’t follow. “C’mon, silly. Don’t you want dry pants?” He started to silently weep again.

She thought he was over his fear of using his diapers. His first wife had insisted on catheters and enemas and treated accidents harshly. Becky, Beth, and his mother had done so much work to get him over his fear of using his diapers.

“Benny, honey, it’s okay. It’s okay. Let’s go get you into something dry.” He followed behind sheepishly. “Upsie Daisy,” she said and helped him onto his changing table. “Lie back.” He only cried harder. Becky looked around his bedroom for a binky, and not seeing one took his wrist and guided his thumb toward his mouth. She didn’t like thumb sucking but was happy to let him if it would stop the tears and make him feel safe.

“It’s okay, Benny, go ahead. It’s okay.” He accepted his thumb, and she went back to her task, getting out a wipe and a clean diaper. She dabbed at his tears again with the wipe, raising the pitch of her voice and and saying in the almost-melody that sent him to sleep each night, “There’s no need for those tears. You’re such a good boy. Such a good boy.”

She untaped one side of the diaper, and he turned away, catching her by surprise. “Benny,” she said in the tone she otherwise reserved for her their puppy, “you silly man. You gotta hold still.” She reached for the other tape and he turned away. “Benny, why you being so silly? Huh? You gotta hold still for me. You gonna hold still and let me change your diapee?” He didn’t say anything but eased his hip back down, sucking hard on his thumb and looking away. “There we go. Dere we go! Hold still ...” She untaped and I opened the diaper.

It wasn’t easy to see. If he hadn’t made a big deal out of it, she was sure she wouldn’t have noticed he’d cum in his diaper. She sighed. Different people had different opinions, but it never bothered her or Beth that men like Ben sometimes spontaneously ejaculated in their diapers. She was surprised Ben hadn’t yet; she assumed he had and she just hadn’t noticed, but seeing his reaction as she opened his diaper, his silent sobbing growing deeper, she realized this must’ve been the first time since their marriage and that his first wife had been one of those types.

Becky and Beth had agreed when deciding to get him that baby talk would be kept to a minimum, reserved for scraped knees, bedtime, and when he needed cheering up. They wanted to ween him off such babyish needs, but tears certainly fit within the exception, and Beth moved around to the side of the table so he could see her face smiling down at him.

“Is dat all? Is that dat all you was afraid of?” She took his thumb away and gave him a kiss on his mouth, even parting her lips a little. “It’s okay,” she said, “it’s okay. That happens to men your age sometimes. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just an accident, just like the other things you do in your pampers.”

Like he had all the other times he thought he was in trouble, once she found what it was he’d done and told him it was okay and that he wasn’t in trouble, he tentatively smiled, as though until she discovered it, he wouldn’t believe her.

“Aww. Dere’s a smile! Dere’s a smile! Ooo, such a good boy!” She looked down toward his feet. “In fact...” A devilish smile crossed her own face, and she reached for the rash cream under the table, applying it directly to his clitty.

“Can you show Becky how you make a sticky cummy?” She wasn’t sure he actually knew how it happened and doubted he’d ever done it on purpose. She started to massage the head of his clitty between her thumb and forefinger, more than enough to manage his little stiffy.

“Show Becky. Show Becky. Show me what a good boy you are ... What a cute clitty you have. Yes it is. Come on. Make a sticky cummy for Becky ... Come on ... Dere it is! Ooh, my! Yes, dere it is. Dat’s a good Benny. Such a good Benny.” His little load didn’t even shoot, just oozing out of his clitty and staying in the wet diaper open between his legs.

She leaned down again and gave him another thorough kiss, not what she’d give Beth but appropriate for husband and wife. She smiled wide, beaming at him as she asked, “Do you believe me now? It’s okay for you to make cummies in your pampers. That’s what your adorable little clitty is for.”

His smiled turned to confusion. “My what?”

“Your clitty ... Your peepee ... Your peepee is also your clitty, honey.” She reached down and gave the soft thing between his legs a gently squeeze. “Same thing.”

“Oh ... I’m really not in trouble?”

“No, sweetie,” she chuckled, “you’re not in trouble. If you make cummies again, you don’t even have to tell us. Like we said, your pampers are our responsibility.”

“Can ... can we do that again sometimes?”

“Sometimes. I’ll even show you how to do it yourself, but you have to do it inside your pampers, okay?”

“Okay.”

She gave him another kiss, this time on his forehead, before wiping her hand and going about the diaper change. “You are such a sweet little guy ...Now,” she said as finished wiping him down, “let’s get your little clitty snug in some new pampers.”

As she sealed the second tape, she heard the garage door. “Ooh, there’s Beth. She’s gonna be so happy to see you! ... All done!” She held out her hands and helped him sit up. “After lunch will you help me build a fort in the backyard,” she asked him.

“Uhuh! Can I tell Beth about my clitty?”

Becky laughed. “Tell her all about it!” She leaned forward and gave him a strong and meaningful hug. “She’ll be so proud of you, just like I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Becky. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetie! Ah! There she is! Go tell her!”

He hopped off the table and scurried out of the room faster than Becky could swat his pampered bottom. She chuckled as she cleaned up after the change. He was all man underneath his trauma, and she and Beth were so happy to help him come back out and see him find his happiness again.

__________________

A fifth installment, and my favorite so far, is on my Patreon and will appear here at a later date.

 

[BabyJessica]

These are wonderful and leave me tingling in my tummy imagining myself as those husbands. 

[D503]

These are so great.

[Alex Bridges]

1 hour ago, D503 said:

These are so great.

So glad to hear that!

I'm going to be putting some more effort into these in the New Year, with the scenes appearing on Patreon two weeks before they appear here.

[Alex Bridges]

Hi all!

I wrote a new entry in the Raising Husbands series, and it’s up on my Patreon.

Also up on my Patreon is THE AUDIO VERSION!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/45379911

In a first, I collaborated with Miss Jenn Davis, professional disciplinarian and ABDL content creator, to produce an audio version of the new entry in this series, titled Obvious In Retrospect. 

Jason just insisted on trying out potty training, and his wife has learned her lesson: most men just can't master the potty. Now Jason has to stand in the corner in timeout because he didn't tell his wife he had an accident in his pull-ups. What's worse, listening to his wife tell her friend all about his epic potty fail, or the spanking he has coming when she's off the phone?

You can find more of Miss Jenn Davis's content on her website, clips4sale site, and other channels. 

[Alex Bridges]

The following is available on my Patreon as an AUDIO VERSION! read by Miss Jenn Davis, professional disciplinarian and ABDL content creator.
 

Obvious in Retrospect

 

Ring-ring ring-ring …

“Hey, Jen … No, it’s not a bad time. That’s just Jason crying in his timeout spot. I’ll tell him to hush if you want … Pre-spanking. I’m letting him think about it for a while … Potty issues … No, you were right. I shouldn’t have let him talk me into trying potty training … No, he’s obviously not ready. You were right … I am not a soft touch! I didn’t just agree to let him try just because he asked. I was hoping to not be changing diapers anymore … Maybe I need to change his diet …

Well, you were able to train your husband. I thought it was worth a shot at least, plus he wanted to because Joey kept teasing him about being a diaperman at their last playdate … Of course I’m not upset with you, and thank you again for paddling Joey for teasing, but it still left Jason badgering me about potty training …

Well, you could’ve been more helpful in telling me how you potty trained Joey. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. Just because it’s illegal to potty train men doesn’t mean it’s a secret; a lot of people try it anyway. The government obviously looks the other way if the diaper companies sell pull-ups in stores now … Yeah, labeling them ‘novelty products’ is pretty damn funny … I think you just want how you did it to be a secret so you can say your Joey is special … Sorry, I mean he is special; of course I think little Joey is special … No, it’s definitely an accomplishment; you should be proud of yourself … and an accomplishment for him, too …

Ha! I heard back in the day, ya know, before, people were so proud they’d post pictures of their husbands on the potty … O, obviously an urban legend. Maybe some exceptional ones like Joey could, but like the average man could even potty train before it was illegal to try; that’s like saying they could do math once upon a time … I don’t know why they made the law. Symbolism, I guess. Maybe great-grandma knows? … They were probably posting those pictures as a joke, like a meme or how people post pictures of their husbands standing in the corner with a red butt nowadays … Nope, no pic this time; his butt is going in a diaper as soon as it’s been spanked …

I did see that article … No, no way … Obviously … Pshaw! I don’t care how many degrees she has – if she thinks husbands can be raised without spanking, she’s obviously never raised one … Or even babysat … Or if she did it must’ve been a train wreck. Anyway, you could tell from the picture she’s not married now. No amount of makeup or lighting can make the wife of a man look that well rested … Ha! O, that’s great … Yeah, she probably just wrote it for the attention and the paper published it to be sensational and the rest just covered it because it’s easier than actual reporting. I mean, I think it’s automated by an algorithm but when I read it there was a banner ad for purse paddles right across the top … If they actually want to help married women and mothers, how about some articles on getting husbands to sleep in their own bed …

Because sometimes I’m just too tired to take him back to his own bed … Yeah, I’ve thought about putting the rails and canopy back on, but he likes to play with his stuffies there during the day. Sharing the bed a couple times a week is less bother than letting him in and out when he’s playing … Well, Jen, you run a tighter ship than me … I’m thinking about sleeping training over Christmas break, but honestly, I need the rest. Listening to him cry through the wall because I won’t let him in my bedroom at night is not how I want to spend my week off. I may get an inflatable mattress for the floor by my bed, though, sort of a halfway between sleep training him and keeping him out of my bed …

But speaking of training, you could’ve been a little more forthcoming when I asked you how you potty trained Joey … Well, it’s kind of moot now, but I’m still curious … Yes, I put a potty chair in his nursery, the bathroom, and his play area. For all he begged me to let him try the potty, he was scared of it for the first few days … I know he’s only twenty-two; he knows it’s okay to be scared. He’s just a man; no one is expecting him to be brave. I didn’t make him sit on it until he was ready … He screwed up his little courage and got over it. It was cute …

Yep, once an hour I’ve been sitting him on potty … Maybe one out of three times, but the other two times he’s wet not two minutes after I get his pull-up back up …

No, we’re about fifty-fifty with numbers twos even when I’ve gotten him on the potty around the time he normally has stinky pants … Shortly thereafter, yeah. That’s the frustrating part. I’m actually surprised by how frustrating it is. I didn’t think I got my hopes up that much. Reminded me of how frustrated I got housebreaking Mr. Pickles, and that was easy by comparison. For one thing, it was successful … No, I learned my lesson. He won’t be naming any more puppies … I don’t know where he heard the word ‘mister’ either. I don’t think I’ve even heard it since history class …

I did buy undies for him as a reward to work toward; cost me a black market fortune, too. My panties don’t even cost that much …

O, forget about naps and nighttime. I wasn’t even going to try that even if I could get him clean and dry during the day. Is that even possible for men? … Well, if you do manage it you’ll be a true miracle worker …

I did trying letting him stand once, just … well, he was having a good day … I put a cheerio in the potty for him to aim at … He hit the cheerio, but if you saw everything else he hit you might suspect he hit it by accident … Ha! Yeah, it was kinda funny …

Where’d you come up with these ideas anyway? … A book about potty training men? Really? But, really? Like a science fiction book? … In an antique store, huh? I wouldn’t risk Jason around antiques if we were married for another forty years … Is that where you learned about the signs they’re ready for potty training? … Well, I’m not sure I wanna bother reading the book now. I’m kinda soured on the experience … It was not a bad idea! White carpet wasn’t bad idea when I thought he’d be in diapers forever, which I’m thinking again, obviously, he will be … So what are the signs anyway?

Knowing when he’s dirty … asking for a change … obvious potty body language and potty faces … Eh, I’d score him maybe one out of three; he does make the cutest potty faces … I just thought asking to be potty trained meant he’s ready … yeah, rather obviously not, but I know that now …

Of course not! I would never spank him for having an accident. He’s going to get spanked for not telling me he had an accident … Trust me – he may not have known when it was happening, but he knew pretty damn soon after. The mail carrier is across the street right now and even she knows a man in this house has a load in his pants … Jen, it’s really sweet you’re concerned and I may not be a successful potty trainer, but he’s not my first husband. I know how to be fair in deciding when he gets a spanking … In my experience, it seems three times a week is about average for men his age; Mom still spanks her husband that often … Well, sometimes it’s more and sometimes it’s less … Ha! Yeah, rainy days can definitely be two-fers. Vacations, too, like they think the rules don’t apply just because we’re somewhere special … I may spank more often than you, but I don’t spank as hard. He hasn’t gotten the big paddle since I married him … No, his mother offered it to me as a wedding present, but he has brothers. I told her to keep it … He knows we’re talking about him; you should see his ears blushing. Hold on …

Jason, are you thinking about what you did wrong or listening to me talk to Miss Gimble? … And what should you be doing on your naughty spot? … That’s right, so keep your eyes forward, mister … She knows all about men who need their bottoms spanked. Eyes forward or you’ll get a bedtime spanking, too.

Sorry. Anyway, he got three strikes. All week long I’ve been reminding him he needs to tell me when he has stinky pants, and I warned him yesterday if he kept not telling me he was going to get a consequence … I figured he was embarrassed, but pull-ups aren’t diapers. It’s been like walking a tightrope and finally kersplat. I mean, I wanted a new sofa anyway, but I was hoping to sell the old one … Donating, well I guess I could take a tax deduction, but who would … Maybe his men’s care wants it; I’m sure their furniture has seen worse over the years …

No, I’m not sure … Well, I went inside when I picked the place, but now I just drop him off with his caregiver in the lobby … Because it stinks in there and someone is always crying at the top of their man lungs … Well, Jen sweetie, we’re not all lawyers who can afford black market man undies and the best men’s care in town. They give him back to me clean, happy, and well fed every day, and he likes it there; they let him use markers … Ha! Yeah, but it comes off in the bath or, well, eventually …

Anyway, this was the third pair of messy pull-ups he didn’t tell me about since that warning … he’ll get changed after his corner time and before his spanking and not any sooner … A couple swats on the back of that pull-up would definitely drive the point home, but not worth the risk of a blowout. He got a couple on the backs of his thighs, though. I like seeing my handprint on the backs of thighs, like that’s how I sign my artwork …

O, for sure … Nope, we’re done trying for a long time and maybe forever. Even if he did show those signs of readiness, I’m not sure I want to go through the extra work … yeah, needing a new couch has made me reconsider just how bad changing six diapers a day is, i.e. not so bad at all. I even like the special time with, even if he is a wiggle bug … No, I don’t mind him on the couch … It’s fine. I like cuddling with him there; I don’t wanna hafta to get down on his play mat. Besides, if you don’t want a man on the couch, that’s really something they need to be trained not to do by their mothers … Actually, he’s been such a good man this year Miss Claus is bringing him his very own Barca-Lounger … No, he didn’t hear me …

Aww, that’s cute. I think a Christmas playdate would be fun, so long as Joey doesn’t talk about potty training or undies … In fact, you’d be doing me a huge favor if you put him back in diapers just for the playdate … Not for every playdate, just until Jason gets over his potty training fascination. I’ll even throw in the undies I bought him and what’s left of the pull-ups … You’re a good wife and a good friend, Jen … Aww, thanks for saying so. Kinda needed that today.

But listen, sorry to cut the call short, but I can’t stand this much longer. He’s been in that corner for an hour … No, he still doesn’t seem bothered by it … Nope, doesn’t even look like it’s itchy to him … Maybe he’ll never be ready. You married yourself a unicorn … Is he still in his unicorn phase? That’s adorable … Well, I got a man to clean up and a bare bottom to spank and double-diaper … Because I wasn’t joking about changing his diet … Or the couch … Feel free to laugh; give me a couple months and I’m sure I’ll find it funny, too … He’ll probably fall asleep after he cries it out. I’ll call you back when I’ve put him down and opened every window … Ha! Bye.

[YourFNF]

This continues to be an interesting one.

[D503]

yes, excellent series

[Alex Bridges]

A caption chapter!

 

[Alex Bridges]

Super excited! Not only are there some new Raising Husbands stories available on my Patreon, but there are now two of them available as audio stories. The goal is to post two audio stories a month there. So far, these are collaborations with the wonderful @Miss Jenn Davis.

And do you have a good voice? Are you interested in a little kinky voice acting? DM me!

 

[Alex Bridges]

Remember the very first Raising Husbands story (the one at the top of this thread, ya big silly diaper baby). Now it's available on my Patreon an an audio story read by @Miss Jenn Davis and it's fucking hot. I'm gonna be in trouble for typing that, but I just had to tell you, so please remember to think of me standing in the corner with a red butt and a soapy mouth while you're getting off

https://www.patreon.com/posts/47216832

[Miss Jenn Davis]

On 2/4/2021 at 8:05 PM, Alex Bridges said:

Super excited! Not only are there some new Raising Husbands stories available on my Patreon, but there are not two of them available as audio stories. The goal is to post two audio stories a month there. So far, these are collaborations with the wonderful @Miss Jenn Davis.

And do you have a good voice? Are you interested in a little kinky voice acting? DM me!

 

Thanks Alex, this was as lot of fun working on this collaboration with you!

[Alex Bridges]

Okay, this may be my favorite one to date.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/47507682 I don't know your financial situation, but, um, personally, I think15-minutes of happy-fun-rub time is worth $5, and also, there's a whole library of the highest quality abdl smut. And some of them aren't even dirty. Um, really.?

A little preview:

 

“No, I’m sorrrry, please. I don’t wanna spanking.”

“And I don’t want to give you one, but I asked nicely and gave you warnings, and you sat there like a stubborn little man. Why can’t you men just obey?”

“I will, I promise!”

“I know you will – after I spank your bottom. Inside,” she said. She was irritated but not angry. She was calm but firm. It’s not entirely their fault, their mother had taught her, it’s because they’re men. That didn’t get them out of their discipline though.

Johnny knew more than his mommy or his sissy thought he did. He knew, for instance, that a spanking through his diaper hurts less than a spanking on his bare butt, and he knew also that a spanking later is better than a spanking now. He had one way to delay a spanking. He stopped in his tracks, slipping free from Cassidy’s pinching fingers.

“Johnathan,” Cassidy exclaimed, expecting to have to chase him around the yard. The thing about men is some of them are too big to be made to do anything, but they can be made to wish they had. That truism flashed through her mind the half-second before she turned and saw him bent at the knees making his potty face. Her face tightened as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. They can’t help it, she reminded herself. They’re men. This is why they’re in diapers to begin with. She’d been taught that since before she could remember, but Johnny had some kind of luck in the timing. Too much, she thought, but that was ridiculous. Her brother couldn’t help it when he filled his diapers.

 

 

[Miss Jenn Davis]

On 2/7/2021 at 6:50 AM, Alex Bridges said:

Remember the very first Raising Husbands story (the one at the top of this thread, ya big silly diaper baby). Now it's available on my Patreon an an audio story read by @Miss Jenn Davis and it's fucking hot. I'm gonna be in trouble for typing that, but I just had to tell you, so please remember to think of me standing in the corner with a red butt and a soapy mouth while you're getting off

https://www.patreon.com/posts/47216832

Oh Alex, you are such the naughty little rascal. You know once I get ahold of you, you'll be going over my lap for a good old fashioned spanking & I plan on introducing you to my vintage celluloid hairbrush. For those of you who really like the story, I have posted a 8-min PREVIEW of the audio up on my podcast: https://anchor.fm/missjenndavis/episodes/Date-Night---an-ABDL-Audio-PREVIEW-eqh0mf/a-a4lnn1k

Now back to Alex. What do YOU ALL think should be his punishment for being so naughty?

[Alex Bridges]

39 minutes ago, Miss Jenn Davis said:

Oh Alex, you are such the naughty little rascal. You know once I get ahold of you, you'll be going over my lap for a good old fashioned spanking & I plan on introducing you to my vintage celluloid hairbrush. For those of you who really like the story, I have posted a 8-min PREVIEW of the audio up on my podcast: https://anchor.fm/missjenndavis/episodes/Date-Night---an-ABDL-Audio-PREVIEW-eqh0mf/a-a4lnn1k

Now back to Alex. What do YOU ALL think should be his punishment for being so naughty?

But I’m a grown up (who wears diapers). You can’t spank a grown up (who has a potty mouth to match his potty pants). It isn’t fair (it is so totally fair). ?

[Miss Jenn Davis]

10 minutes ago, Alex Bridges said:

But I’m a grown up (who wears diapers). You can’t spank a grown up (who has a potty mouth to match his potty pants). It isn’t fair (it is so totally fair). ?

Oh I can spank a grown up in diapers, and I WILL. Don't ever doubt that

[Alex Bridges]

10 minutes ago, Miss Jenn Davis said:

Oh I can spank a grown up in diapers, and I WILL. Don't ever doubt that

What’s the point of growing up if you still get your bottom spanked by mommy types like Miss Jenn? ?

 

It’s almost as if growing up is for suckers ?

[bugmenot2]

Wow could you two grovel any harder for Patreon subscribers.

The story is actually quite good. But if you're gonna charge now for chapters, just say so.

I wish we had a section for paid content, separate from shared content...

Not trying to be a choosy beggar but there is so much paid content here in the last year.

I am a member, but I'm leaving this quasi-anonymous so I don get flamed....