AN HOMAGE TO VINCENT VEGA, SEASON THREE, SCENE 89: THE MOMENT OF TRUTH: LINH

[mushy bottom]

I vote for Happy.  Somebody has to give her all over sponge baths.

[Babypants]

ANNOUNCEMENT: a twelfth tranche, consisting of chapters 38-40, is now up and running on the STORIES page of the site.  Once again, comments have been removed to enable readers to enjoy the story without interruption.

[mushy bottom]

Another shocking reveal.  It fills in a critical piece of Ian's childhood.  Will he share this with Sarah and the others?

[littlebopeeper]

Wow!  Ian has now built relationships with 3 local police officers, and he has forged an alliance with a local mafia kingpin to go with his ties to the CIA and KGB.  He reminds me more and more of Deighton's Bernard Samson, LeCarre's George Smiley or McCarry's Paul Christopher, great spies whose private lives are a mess.

[Babypants]

On 1/25/2025 at 2:58 PM, littlebopeeper said:

Wow!  Ian has now built relationships with 3 local police officers, and he has forged an alliance with a local mafia kingpin to go with his ties to the CIA and KGB.  He reminds me more and more of Deighton's Bernard Samson, LeCarre's George Smiley or McCarry's Paul Christopher, great spies whose private lives are a mess.

Carlie got it right in the scene at The Pig Sty when she surmised that Ian learned how to fashion networks by building an elite combat unit from the ground up in Viet Nam.

On 1/24/2025 at 3:26 PM, mushy bottom said:

Another shocking reveal.  It fills in a critical piece of Ian's childhood.  Will he share this with Sarah and the others?

Have to wait and see on this one.

[Babypants]

On 1/19/2025 at 8:44 PM, CDfm said:

I vote for Doc.  He has the most knowledge and experience. 

Doc just picked up another vote in the DD Survey version of this poll.

[Babypants]

MOVIN' OUT

“Babs and I were in the same class at the Academy,” Priscilla commented as she smoothly changed lanes. She had hustled Ian out of his office at three on the dot, urged him to beat feet toward the car that she had left illegally parked in a red zone, and dashed to the nearest freeway on ramp. When trying to beat the rush hour traffic beginning to pile up southbound on Interstate 35, seconds mattered. Especially on Fridays, when the office grunts fleeing the shimmering glass towers in the heart of downtown were in no mood to take prisoners.

“She graduated near the top of the class. Believe me, Ian, out on the firing range she'd leave Dirty Harry in the dust. Still, no one wanted to partner with her because she had no sense of humor and no finesse. She's always been the bluntest of blunt instruments, and I say that as someone who sees her in action at The Pig Sty roughly fifty times a year.”

Ian sucked in his breath as a slush covered pickup cut in front of them with less than half a car length to spare. Priscilla didn't even blink.

“Does anybody in this state actually know how to drive,” Ian grumbled. “Honestly, Pris, if you pulled that stunt on the Long Beach freeway, someone would pull up alongside and blow your God damned head off!”

“Temper, temper,” Pris admonished. “Besides, half the vehicles out here are headed to your apartment. Rita, Vic … even Sarah.”

“I know, I know. Sarah called me during office hours with the good news. She somehow convinced Heidi to come in and work her full shift today so that Sarah would be free to help pack up my apartment. It costs her nothing to put in twelve hours next Wednesday in return since we won't be meeting with Vic's lawyer friend until five or so.”

“Now, getting back to Babs ...”

“Nice try, by the way,” she added as she glanced at Ian out of the corner of her eye. “But you should know that the police are like a pack of bloodhounds … relentless. Once we get a whiff, we will pursue it until we uncover the truth.”

“Pris, I don't follow ...”

“Stop it, Ian! Right now, you're on for a maintenance spanking tomorrow night, but if you lie to me, it's going to turn into the real deal. This is not the time to bob and weave because I've known Babs for a long, long time-- and I barely recognized the woman sitting in your office. What the hell happened?”

“We talked. Walking back from class, we talked. I was pretty sure, the way she was carrying on last night, so I … I took a chance, confided in her. I told her about something that happened to me a long time ago, something buried deep in my past. And it opened the floodgates.”

“Go on,” Pris encouraged, her eyes never leaving the road. They were coming up on Spaghetti Junction, the most dangerous stretch of highway in the entire state.

“I can't.” Ian was resolute. “It would be a betrayal of trust, and I won't do that. She needs help, and I'm going to try, but it won't work unless she's ready. She has to want this, Pris; there's no other way.”

“What kind of help, Ian? It's obvious that she has issues, and the Department has licensed psychologists to help an officer in crisis. We look after our own.”

“I need to talk to Rita … maybe to Vickie. Technically, I'm her patient, so she has to treat anything I tell her confidentially. I don't think Babs wants anyone associated with the Department to come anywhere near this. In her shoes, I would stay as far away from the workplace as I could get.”

“So, you have a deep, dark secret that you're hiding from all of us. Ian, this isn't going to end well, and the longer you procrastinate, the worse it's gonna be.”

“I know, but I'm worried about the Princess … about Anna. She doesn't need this, Pris; believe me, she doesn't need this. I have to find a way to face up to what happened without it all spilling into her lap.”

Ian laughed, a sound so bitter that Priscilla involuntarily flinched. “Do you ever ask yourself how she's handling the diapers? The piss and the poop … relying on the good will of others to keep her clean. I'm used to it, but she seems to be a little girl with a life of her own. How does she feel, and what can I do to help her? I ask myself that all the time now: what can I do to help her?”

. . . .

“I could get used to this,” Sofia contentedly sighed as the Cessna 172 Skyhawk dipped in and out of the clouds, their southwesterly course chasing the sunlight across the late afternoon sky.

“Good weather all the way, so we're cruising at eight thousand, making a hundred and five knots … one hundred and forty three miles per hour for you landlubbers. Two hours from Houghton to Crystal, so with the time zone change we'll be on the ground a little after five Central time. The sunset should be spectacular, my Dear … truly spectacular!”

“Ground transportation?”

Sofia glanced over at Bob. With his starched white shirt, Italian silk tie and aviator sunglasses, her boyfriend looked like he had just stepped out of an airline commercial advertising safe skies and exotic locales. The reality, of course, was that he owned and personally managed the largest hardware store in the Upper Peninsula. Sandy haired Bob Pinkett was in his mid fifties, a few years younger than Sofia herself. They had been well paired from the outset, but as Sofia had explained to her daughter at Thanksgiving, Bob still had a few rough edges that needed smoothing-- happily so since they gave her the opening she needed to mold him into his new role as her submissive.

And you are going to look so cute in your diapees and baby pants! Don't need them, you say? Well, you will, my Dear … you will. Mommy has all sorts of potions in her medicine cabinet, drugs that will make you start peeing like a racehorse, with less and less control. It's just a matter of time ...

“Already taken care of. Hertz loves me, and they do go the extra mile to keep me happy.”

“Good to know, since we'll be doing this regularly once our first grandchild arrives on the scene.”

“And does this earn your hard working pilot some extra privileges when we're down on the ground?”

Sofia slapped his hand, which had come wandering over to her thigh. Intentionally, she put far more force into the blow than the situation required. It was all a lead up to his first spanking. Once Bob Pinkett had gone over her knee, she could get serious about training him. Diapers, a chastity cage … if she had read him right, the all powerful businessman needed his Mommy to bring balance to his life.

“The only privilege you've earned so far is a good, hard spanking! The first of many!”

“Is that a promise? Will Mommy spank me if I'm a bad boy?”

Bob absolutely loved this no nonsense, take charge side of Sofia's personality. She presided over the largest hospital in the region, and day in and day out she handled the pressure with ease. He admired her professionalism, and in the bedroom he was happy to follow her lead. Bob couldn't wait for his first spanking. It sounded like fun, and he knew exactly where they would end up.

. . . .

“Listen up, everybody,” Sarah called out as she hung up the phone. “That was my Mom. She and Bob are on their way, and should be here in half an hour or so. They're spending the night in my apartment, which means that Ian and I shall be sharing his new crib.”

“Going to try out the restraints?” Vickie couldn't resist the urge to poke the mama bear.

“Tomorrow night, perhaps … not tonight. Want to guess where you'll be bedding down, baby girl?” If Sarah could take a punch, she could also throw one.

“Okay, let's take stock of where we're at. Pris, let's start with you.”

“I've emptied out his storage room, and swept it clean. Everything in the bathroom is packed up except for soap, a towel, baby powder and wet wipes. I'll change him just before we leave.”

“Ian and I have dismantled the bed,” Vickie reported, “and I've cleaned out the closets. His jackets and pants are in the garment bags, and apart from a spare diaper, everything else is boxed up. We'll also take the diaper pail with us.”

“I'm leaving my key with Mom. In the morning, she and Bob can let Amos in and help him get the bed out to his truck. Pris, where does that leave you?”

“I'll call Mom before we leave. If she's already taken my bed apart, I'll bunk with Vic; otherwise, I'll go home. Either way, Amos and I can switch the beds around. No problem.”

“Rita?”

“Ian's dismantled the stereo system, and put everything away in the original boxes. The TV also goes tonight, as is. We've used towels to cover the paintings, and wrapped them in the bedding. Each of us will take one; drive slowly, and there shouldn't be any problems.”

“Just one change in plans for tomorrow”, she continued. “I really like the stereo and TV tables, so I want Amos to bring them over as well. So, the two couches are the only thing that we need to put in storage, and that's just until we move into our new digs.”

“Which leaves the kitchen,” Sarah concluded. “Mercifully, there's not a lot here, and I've already put the pots and pans in my car. So, I reckon that when Mom and her boyfriend get here, we'll feast on whatever takes our fancy, then see to the dishes, the silverware, and the food and drink afterwards.”

“Dibs on the Greek gunk and the pita bread,” Vickie yelped. “And the prosciutto and those big, black olives.”

“The rose and the red are both really nice,” she added hopefully.

“Sorry, Sis,” Priscilla cut in, beating Sarah to the punch. “But we're all on the wagon-- and no one gets to fall off.”

“You're so mean,” Vic growled.

“That's what baby sisters are for,” Pris shot back.

“All right, you two … enough, already. Or do you both need a little corner time?” Hands on hips, Sarah was glaring at the two women while debating her next move.

“I'm not above spanking you both, here and now … and Priscilla, if you insist on acting like a brat, your mother has encouraged me to treat you like one. Roughly translated, this means that you are this close to being put back in diapers!”

Sarah held up her hand, the thumb and forefinger so close together that a dime wouldn't have slipped through the gap.

“Already done,” Vickie crowed. “Starting tomorrow, Mom's putting Pris' caboose back on the old diaper train. It's a devious plot to encourage Dad to wear a diaper when he goes to The Pig Sty. Mom says that the entryway is beginning to smell like a urinal, and she wants it to stop.”

“Is this true, Priscilla? Is your mother putting you back in diapers?”

Priscilla nodded. “It's just temporary. Mom's also going to start wearing diapers on the job. Dad's having a lot of accidents, so the hope is that he'll see the light when he discovers that the three of us are already diapered.”

“Not to worry, Sweetie,” Sarah said in a tone that suggested Priscilla should be very worried indeed. “We'll all do our part, but we also need to get your Dad in to see a urologist. It sounds like the bill's come due for all those years he's spent sitting behind the wheel and riding a desk.”

“Already on it,” Vickie explained. “He's been in to see Sharon Villers, and it's what you would expect … an enlarged prostate. I'll have a word with Sharon and set up a treatment plan. The nice thing about having a doctor in the family, Pris, is that we can do this on the sly. No markers in his official file, and the best part yet? No bills to pay!”

“Works for me,” Priscilla smiled. “Now, I'm hungry, and I spotted a summer sausage when I was prowling around in the frig earlier. But what are we going to drink?”

“I've got that covered,” Sarah laughed. “I've got enough Tab downstairs to keep us all wired for the rest of the night. We shall eat and dine well!”

“And tomorrow night?” Rita was running the numbers in her head. “Ian, it looks like we'll be setting out food and drink for a minimum of seventeen; what are you planning to cook?”

“Huh?”

“Well, it's obvious that your taste buds are far more sophisticated than ours, so from now on the kitchen is your domain. What exotic treats would you like to serve?”

Ian pursed his lips, thinking about it. “I'm feeling Greek at the moment-- and there's no point in letting my stash of Retsina go to waste. You up to driving me around town in the morning? The shops are spread out.”

“No can do,” Sarah advised. “Lessing's Folly, remember? But not to worry. Mom will drive you around. It will give the two of you a chance to get acquainted, and if you need help in the kitchen, she's always keen to learn new dishes.”

“I could definitely use a second pair of hands, but I have to warn you: we're going to make a mess.”

“Mom and I will handle the clean up,” Vickie volunteered.

“Huh,” everyone in the room said more or less simultaneously.

“Hey, I'm supposed to carry my weight around here, but I don't know one end of a dust mop from the other. Who better to teach me than my new Mom?”

. . . .

“Thanks for taking the wheel, Soph. Landing in that crosswind was no fun.”

Driving south on Highway 100, Bob was rolling his shoulders when he wasn't massaging his calves. The Skyhawk's trim tab made for a highly maneuverable aircraft in clean air, but a pilot had to muscle the beast onto the ground when conditions were less than ideal.

“You looked like you had everything under control,” Sofia rejoined. “I was very impressed.”

“Now you know why I hit the gym every week.” Bob's smile was weak. “In certain situations, physical fitness counts for a lot. Anyway ...”

“Anyway, you want to know what awaits us down in Bloomington. Well, if things are going according to plan, Sarah and my future son-in-law will be packing up his apartment. Rita and Vickie, who are Sarah's colleagues and two closest friends, are pitching in to help.”

“And you know Rita, right?”

“I do. If I had the chance, I would hire her in a heartbeat. She's a very impressive lady. I've never met Vickie, but it sounds like she lives life in the fast lane. And as for Priscilla ...”

Sofia shook her head, thinking about it. “What can I say? On Monday morning, a policewoman on the campus detail is assigned to escort Ian around campus to keep aggressive corporate headhunters at bay, and less than seventy-two hours later they're proclaiming their love for one another. Ian's polyamorous and my daughter, God bless her heart, is rolling with the punches.”

“So, Sarah is sharing her fiance with three other women, and this weekend they're all moving in together?”

“Right. That's why we've got the use of Sarah's apartment for the duration. But there's a big party at Rita's tomorrow night. Apparently, Rita's parties are something else. I'm going, and I'm sure you're invited. However, getting back to Bloomington could prove to be a problem.”

“I'll think about it, but no promises, okay? Let's concentrate on getting through tonight first.”

“Works for me. And Bob, one last thing. I'm told that Ian's diapers are on the thick side, and highly visible. So, try not to stare, and don't be shocked if Sarah or one of the others takes him into the bedroom to change him. Nobody makes a big deal out of it, and considering how Ian came to be incontinent, that's as it should be.”

“Understood. We can always talk about sports. Who knows? Maybe he's a fisherman!”

. . . .

"You, or me?"

Sarah made it a question because she and Ian both knew who had knocked on the door. Still, while it was Sarah's mom, it was Ian's apartment. He was starting to appreciate her talent for making his decisions while leaving him the illusion of choice.

“Me. However battered and bruised, it's still my home.”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Ian opened the door. The two strangers stared at one another for a long moment, Ian ignoring the man hovering in the background. His first, perverse, thought was that he was a very lucky guy indeed. Sofia Haikonnen's beauty may have lost some of its glow with the passage of time, but her features were still strong and she was elegant and composed-- a woman very much in charge of the world around her. It was obvious where Sarah's assertive nature came from, but also her beauty. The woman Sarah would become twenty-five years in the future was standing in his doorway.

Ian's welcoming smile was warm and sincere, and he reached out to shake her hand. “Hello, Sofia. I'm Ian. Welcome. Hope the two of you are hungry because cleaning out my refrigerator is what we're down to.”

“Starved.” Sofia's smile was equally gracious. “Lunch was a long time ago.”

While Bob and Ian said their hellos, Sofia hugged her daughter and Rita in turn. With Sarah finishing up the introductions, Ian got busy collecting napkins and plates.

“Bob, there's beer and wine in the frig … soft drinks and bottled water. Help yourself to whatever suits your fancy … well, everything except for the breast milk. That's reserved for Vic and me.”

“Seriously?” Bob couldn't tell whether Ian was pulling his leg or not.

“Seriously. Last night, Pris, Vic and I put away dozens of shots of tequila in a drinking contest at a local cop bar. We won, but it was our last hurrah. The five of us are swearing off alcohol while we're trying to make babies ...”

“And since we all plan to breast feed,” Priscilla brightly remarked, “we'll be abstaining for a long, long time. We're going to be awash in breast milk, so Vic and Ian are getting a head start; the rest of us will be joining the breast milk band wagon in due course.”

“How does this work? I mean, well … if you don't mind me asking … one guy and four women.”

“Sarah will be managing our household, but it's patterned after a commune that I visited out in San Francisco this summer. Right now, it's just fun and games-- Ian slept with Pris on Wednesday and Rita yesterday. It's Sarah's turn tonight, and mine on Sunday.”

Watching Bob gape while his brain wrestled with the fact that Ian was living every man's most popular adolescent fantasy left Vickie grinning from ear to ear.

“But once we're all living under the same roof, we'll do daily fertility checks, and adjust our schedules accordingly.” Rita thought that Vickie was having way too much fun at Bob's expense.

“Vic's a maneater,” Sarah explained to her mother, “so right now we're scheduling Ian's days off immediately before and after she devours him. Ian's greatest fear is that two or more of us will be at peak fertility at the same time. He will end up begging for mercy, which may not be forthcoming.”

“Well, it sounds like you've got everything under control,” Sofia concluded. “Are you going to take my advice and limit the sexual activity to his crib?”

“Absolutely! We've already got the nursery organized. In fact, we've got two pediatric cribs in there sitting side by side. Lower the railings, and there will be plenty of room for a menage a trois.”

“But that's only when we're sleeping with Ian,” Rita cautioned. “Now that we know Sarah's bi, I'm planning on sleeping with her as well as Vic and Pris. And that's just for starters. Tomorrow night, you'll be meeting other women who want to move in with us ...”

“MY DAUGHTER IS BI?”

Sofia thought that Rita must be joking, but then she remembered that Rita couldn't tell a joke to save her soul.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?”

“Tomorrow night, you'll meet Carlie and Babs, the two policewomen on the team that we defeated last night.” Rita decided to give Sofia and Bob the whole wacky story in one shot. “Ian fell in love with Carlie in front of all of us, but she's lesbian, so he should be striking out … only it turns out that Carlie can somehow communicate with the female personality that shares Ian's body. We call her Princess Poopy Pants, but Carlie insists that she is called Anna … we don't know by whom. So, Ian and Carlie have got their thing going on, and meanwhile, Carlie suspects that Sarah is bi, so she wants to move in with us to see where that goes. And I want to sleep with both of them, only Carlie says that I'm too masculine for her taste. Babs is also gay, but her personality is strikingly different from Carlie's. She lost a couple of side bets last night, so she'll be getting the full baby treatment and a well earned spanking at the party. Vic will administer it, but she'll be teaching a sorority girl who's clamped on to Babs how to do it right. Joyce is one of the several dozen girls whom Ian has adopted en route to becoming the faculty advisor to the Panhellenic Council, and withal Fraternity Row's Dad. He's even got the sweatshirt.”

Ian excused himself just long enough to grab it off the couch, and with Priscilla's help, to put it back on.

“As you've just seen,” Rita continued, “Ian has trouble dressing himself. He was wounded far more severely than he's let on, so it's very much to his benefit that he now has four caregivers who are devoted to him. What else? Oh, Priscilla's parents are adopting Vickie; Beatrice Miller, who runs the sorority that Ian has more or less joined, is adopting him with the blessing of all of us.”

“Don't forget Anna,” Vickie encouraged.

“Yes. Ian, I called a meeting of the entire senior staff this morning, and Carlie joined us to share her experience and her perspective. Anna was the sole topic of conversation. We had a spirited debate, which will continue tomorrow morning in John's presence. I've asked Carlie to attend, so that we don't have to speak for her.”

“Did she agree?”

“She did.”

“And the subject of this debate?”

“Her identity. Reiko and I have come to the same conclusion, independent of one another-- and it's at odds with the textbooks. Marge is in the opposite camp, so this edition of Lessing's Folly could get a bit heated.”

“Go on.”

“Some of us have come to the conclusion that Anna is … that Anna is your daughter.”

“WHAT?” Sofia was taken completely by surprise.

“It's true, Mom. Her name is Linh. Nine years ago, when Ian was in the hospital, someone raided his village. They murdered his wife, massacred everyone except the very small children. Ian's friends back East think that they didn't know which child was Ian's, so they took them all and then murdered everyone to cover their tracks. She's important, Mom; if she has inherited his ability to absorb languages, with time and training she could be turned into one of the most dangerous weapons on Earth. The CIA has been searching for her worldwide ever since Ian and his friends put all the pieces together.”

“And they've come up empty,” Bob surmised. “But you hope that Anna possesses information that would allow the Agency to narrow the search.” Bob's heart went out to Ian. He had sent two sons out into the world, and like any loving parent, he had his own fears.

“Precisely,” Rita concluded. “This may be our best chance to bring our daughter home.”

“About Babs.”

Ian wanted to take up the case of another lost soul. “Vic, are you still my physician of record?”

“I am.”

“So, anything I share with you is privileged unless I give you permission to pass it on to others?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then I want to talk with you about Babs before she shows up tomorrow night. She has a problem, she needs help, and I want to offer it to her. But I don't know where to turn.”

“How about when I'm doing KP? We can talk while I change your diaper.”

“It's a date,” he weakly replied. “And thank you, Vic. This is deeply, deeply personal.”

“I'll treat it as such, Ian. I promise you; you have my word on it.”

[CDfm]

Wonderful new chapter. Seemed like the action is building again for the next big party and all the the new changes that are going to be taking place.  I am excited to see how it progresses. 

[Babypants]

ANNOUNCEMENT: a thirteenth tranche (chapter 41), is now up and running on the STORIES page of the site.  Once again, comments have been removed to enable readers to enjoy the story without interruption.  THIS CONCLUDES SEASON ONE.

[Babypants]

On 1/30/2025 at 11:14 PM, CDfm said:

Wonderful new chapter. Seemed like the action is building again for the next big party and all the the new changes that are going to be taking place.

We've got two parties going on Saturday night-- Rita's, and the kegger at the Delta house.  Lots of action ahead as we approach the end of season two of this epic tale.  But first, we need to go shopping, which will leave Ian in his future mother-in-law's hands for many an hour.

[CDfm]

That time with the MIL should be interesting. 

[Babypants]

23 hours ago, CDfm said:

That time with the MIL should be interesting.

Do you remember the Ernie K-Doe song Mother In Law?  Ian will be humming it under his breath more or less constantly come Saturday morning.

[littlebopeeper]

On 2/2/2025 at 2:37 PM, Babypants said:

Do you remember the Ernie K-Doe song Mother In Law?  Ian will be humming it under his breath more or less constantly come Saturday morning.

The worst person I know

Mother in law, mother in law

She worries me so

Mother in law, mother in law

If she'd leave us alone

We'd have a happy home

Great, great song!

[mushy bottom]

Great chapter.  Been waiting for the mother in law to show up.  Let the games begin!

[Babypants]

Quickie entertainment quiz:

Clint Eastwood's Dirty Harry character is just one of many in the San Francisco police department.  How about James Stewart (Vertigo), Steve McQueen (Bullitt), Hal Holbrook and David Soul (Magnum Force) and Michael Douglas (Basic Instinct).  There are even females cast as cops, such as Tyne Daly (The Enforcer).  But what about ...

Joe Flood

Who knows the movie in which Joe played a San Francisco cop?

[littlebopeeper]

On 2/5/2025 at 6:06 PM, Babypants said:

Joe Flood

Who knows the movie in which Joe played a San Francisco cop?

My first thought was: who the heck is Joe Flood?  But the movie is A View to a Kill.

[littlebopeeper]

So, Ian has finally met his soon to be mother-in-law, and he's going to be one on one with her in the morning.  LOL.  A lot of us have been there, and in my case going to the dentist to have a cavity filled would have been more fun.  Can't wait to read how his day goes!  Will Sophia be changing his diapers? 

[Babypants]

MOVIN' ON UP TO THE WEST SIDE

“I thought that went very well.” Sarah commented as they drove north toward Rita's townhouse. “Maybe dining room tables are overrated.”

“It was fun, wasn't it?”

“Sitting on the floor, backs to the wall, eating and drinking at our leisure? No pressure? Absolutely-- and you were the perfect host, Ian. You made Mom feel comfortable, and you charmed Bob right off his feet!”

“All things considered, that wasn't much of a challenge,” Ian joked. “But we do have a lot in common. He likes to fish, and I like to eat walleye. So, he'll catch 'em and from here on out I'll fry 'em. But between the flour and the bread crumbs, I'm going to soak them in breast milk. The secret ingredient that will leave everybody guessing … well, at least until I publish my recipe book.”

“Cooking With Breast Milk,” Sarah laughed.

“That's the one. Breast milk biscuits … fettuccini a la breast milk … I've got lots of ideas.”

“You do indeed. It's one of the reasons I love you.”

“So, does that mean that this week's sins are forgiven, and there's no spanking in my immediate future?”

“Just a maintenance spanking … no biggie. You'll do fine.”

“Babs told me that Joyce is going to give her a weekly spanking as well. She's coming along tomorrow night … wants Vickie to do the honors while she takes notes or something.”

“If a girl wants to learn, she should learn from a pro! Then, a diaper and baby pants, mittens and a pacifier, and off to her crib she goes. The two of you can keep each other company all night long.”

“Joyce may want us to sleep arm in arm.”

“Not a problem. We have restraints for every occasion. And since you'll both be under lock and key, there won't be any mischief.”

“I'm relieved that your Mom is okay with our hippie commune, and if she's having any problems with you treating me like a baby, she's hiding them well.”

“Ian, in a way this was all her idea. She did not want our marriage to break up my friendship with Vic and Rita, and she strongly believes that life will be a lot easier if there are three of us to care for you. We had a long talk about whether you should be treated like a toddler or an eight month old. She steered me to the shop where I bought your chastity cage, and she is adamant that you should not only be crib bound but also make love there, and only there. I'm not sure why, but she insists that we keep you in the nursery and out of our bedrooms.”

“Well, there goes the honeymoon.”

“We'll work something out.”

“What about Priscilla?”

“She's a wonderful addition to our household, and if we can recruit Carlie, even better. After all, if we are going to be in real danger, having two trained police officers keeping a perpetual eye on things will be a big plus.”

“And … uh … how do you feel about sleeping with her? Or with Rita, for that matter? She seems keen to explore the possibilities.”

“The more I think about it, the more I think that Rita's on to something. Oh, I don't mean about me being bi … that's ludicrous. But if everybody ends up sleeping with everybody, jealousy should never rear its ugly head in our family.”

“Glad to hear it because I'm on board.”

“Not going to be jealous?”

“No. I just want everybody to be happy.”

“Including Babs?”

“Including Babs,” Ian agreed.

. . . .

“The first thing,” Rita decided, “is to get the artwork up on the walls and out of harm's way. The Alvar goes over the couch, and the Chagall above my bed. The Pitre can go over the TV, and the Lebadang in the dining room.”

“Got one of those kitchen stepladders?”

“In the pantry.”

Ian rummaged around in one of the boxes that had come out of his hallway closet, and dragged out a hammer and a stud finder. The nails and picture hangers were waiting in his cutlery tray.

“I can manage everything else on my own, but I'll need help moving the couch.”

“I need to make a phone call,” Sarah declared as she headed for Rita's home office.

“Guess that leaves me to do the grunt work,” Rita groused. After rapidly unloading her car, Priscilla had rushed home to help her mother dismantle the bed. Vickie was in the kitchen, busily rearranging the cupboards and the frig to make room for all the goodies that they had hauled out of Ian's kitchen. Finding a home for his collection of pots and pans was proving to be one heck of a challenge.

Shutting the door behind her, Sarah got the business card out of her wallet, and dialed Marilyn Marsden's home number. She had expected Marilyn to come to her office with a contract that would spell out the details of her agreement to serve as Ian's business agent, but she had neither put in an appearance nor called to let Sarah know where matters stood. Sarah was determined to find out what was going on.

“Sarah Haikonnen here,” she said when Marilyn picked up. “Got a minute?”

“Of course.”

“Just want to know where we're at.”

“Right. I spent yesterday morning testing the corporate waters, and as expected, there was a great deal of interest. And then Ian showed up on the boob tube, and he made one hell of a splash. Now that he's a celebrity, I don't know whether the corporate movers and shakers are going to become skittish, or even more eager to obtain his services. So, I thought it best to let the dust settle over the weekend, then make another round of calls on Monday to find out where we stand. If everyone's frightened off, then he won't need to take me on as his agent.”

“Makes sense. You should know that this morning he was asked to serve as faculty advisor to the Panhellenic Council, and he accepted. And I'm assured that on Monday he's going to be cross appointed to International Relations or Poli Sci. He'll be a huge draw in a first year course, so salary wise this gives us even more ammunition to play with.”

“I'll say! Sarah, this is a really big deal. At a minimum, you should hold out for triple his current salary, and ideally park some of the increase in long-term research and travel grants. These aren't taxable income-- and my firm knows a lot more loopholes that Ian can exploit.”

“Can you use any of this when you make the rounds on Monday morning?”

“Absolutely! It will allow me to ratchet up the pressure big time. Sarah, I should know by noon who's in and who's out. I'll call you either just before or just after lunch, okay?”

“Okay, but do me a favor and come over to Rita's tomorrow night, contract in hand. Ian and I will look it over after we recover sometime on Sunday.”

“One of those kinds of parties, I take it?”

“Very much so. We're expecting close to twenty altogether-- a hodgepodge of doctors and police, shopkeepers and sorority girls, a private detective … and my mother, who just happens to administer one of the largest hospitals in the U.P.”

“Sounds like fun, but before we hang up, there's one more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“Sarah, what is going on between Ian and my daughter?”

“Oh, nothing that we haven't seen before,” Sarah laughed. “Ian has more or less adopted the whole sorority, so Janis is just one of his several dozen surrogate daughters. All the girls think of him as Dad, and over time he'll settle nicely into the role of the wise and kindly old uncle. What you may not know is that, in the long and storied tradition of candy stripers everywhere, Jannie has also acquired a new mother-- Sylvia Anderson, one of my colleagues up on the fourth floor. Sylvie's mentoring your daughter, who goes way, way beyond what any of us around here expect from our volunteers. Jannie is very popular, and if she chooses to go on to attend nursing school, she'll have a job waiting for her the day she graduates.”

“Has she expressed an interest?”

“She has,” Sarah confirmed. “Hints galore. We all hope that you and your husband will encourage her.”

“We have always encouraged her to seek her own path. If this is what she wants to do, she will have our full support.”

“See you tomorrow night, then?”

“I'll try and get there around eight.”

“Great! Let me give you the address, but you should know that we're on a cul de sac, and you'll probably end up parking some distance away. Dress accordingly.”

“Mukluks?”

“Always a good choice. Oh, and bring your appetite. Ian's doing the honors, and he's planning on doing something Greek. He fancies himself as a chef”

“War hero, secret agent, and now a chef. He sounds like a regular Harry Palmer!"

“A good analogy. Wonder if Michael Caine will get the part when you sell our story to Hollywood. They can call the flick The Breast Milk File.”

. . . .

“Are you happy?”

After Vickie had finished up and gone home, Sarah waited patiently for Rita to wish them good night and retire to her room. Ian was positioning the speakers and fiddling with the wiring when she retreated to the kitchen to warm his bottles. Once they were ready, she sat on the couch and quietly commanded him to join her. She surprised him with a bib, but he stretched out,with his head cradled in her arms, awaiting the nipple and the breast milk that it would soon deliver.

“Very much so. I love you, Sarah, and lying in your arms, looking up into those beautiful eyes, feeling the connection between us … yes, I'm happy.”

“I'm so glad, because I love you, both the baby who crawls across the floor in his big, fat diaper, and the man whom I shall soon mount, hoping that his seed will create new life inside me. I want to have children so much, Ian, but you will always be my little baby, a precious eight month old who crawls to his Mommy, crying for attention because he's hungry or afraid, or simply wants Mommy to hug him and make the world go away for a while. This will never change.”

“No chance of me working my way up to toddlerhood?”

“Would you like that? Do you see yourself as a spoiled, whiny two year old?”

“Hmm, good question. I don't know what I want, or maybe a better way to put it is that I want to order off the whole menu.”

Sarah raised the first bottle to Ian's lips, and he began to nurse. Watching him, thinking about the day when he would latch onto her breast and drink her milk, the waves of pleasure that would wash over her, Sarah could feel her body beginning to stir.

“I fantasize about you suckling at my breast, and my milk being your only source of food. I love watching you crawl across the floor, and outside I want to put you in a stroller-- no more walking! And of course, with the right pacifier, you would have no choice but to cry and cry because you would no longer be able to speak. A helpless baby, forever dependent upon his Mommy … that's my fantasy.”

“Total control, in short.”

Ian had pushed the bottle aside. Sarah had given him an opening, and he wanted to exploit it.

“Yes; total control. Think of our D/s agreement as my fallback position.”

“Got it. I want you to manage my life, and when we're together, you can even micromanage it if that's your pleasure. But when it comes to the small stuff, I also want you to leave me to my own devices when we're apart, and especially when I'm at work.”

“That doesn't fit into my fantasy, and I'm not happy about it, but Rita and Vic have made it clear that I have to dial it back. I'll do so, but I still want Tippi to be your nursemaid on campus.”

“Glad to have her. So, you're good with my taking on the Panhellenic Council?”

“Have you heard me object?”

“No.”

“And you won't. What I would encourage you to do in future is talk with Amy or Bernice, even Suzie, before diving in. They can counsel you; I can't.”

“That's good advice.”

“Enough talk. Finish your ba bas, then I'll burp you, take off your clothes, and remove your diaper cover. I want my baby to crawl to the nursery because I love watching your diaper butt swaying to and fro. Are you going to be a good baby for Mommy?”

“Ba ba, Mama … I wuv my ba ba!”

. . . .

“Julia, are you sure about this? We could set Pris' bed up in the home office. There's plenty of room.”

“Herb, we'll lose the home office deduction if the room becomes multi-purpose. You know that.”

“Yeah, but on the flip side? With Priscilla moving out, we'll finally qualify for a nice property tax rebate. I'm thinking about remodeling.”

“Don't give me that crap, Herb. After all these years, you don't think I can read you like a book? You just want someplace to bunk down when I throw you out of our bedroom!”

“But ...”

“No buts. Let's face facts, Herb. You're a middle aged man riding a desk, and now you've got an enlarged prostate and bladder control issues as a consequence. You heard Doctor Villers-- get some exercise, and cut back … way, way back … on the caffeine and the booze. And she also diplomatically pointed out that there are things that you can wear-- 'protection' she called it-- so that you don't keep pissing your pants.”

“But Julia ...”

“Aren't you listening to me? Last night? Peeing on the doorstep in front of those nice college girls? That was the last straw, Herb, and I've had it with being woken up every night because you have to stumble off to the bathroom every hour or two. You are not, repeat not, going to turn my office into a man cave. What you are going to do, starting tonight, is wear protection. Then maybe I can get a decent night's sleep!”

“Julia, I am not going to wear a diaper ...”

“You don't have to. We'll start with one of Pris' menstrual pads. We'll slip it inside your briefs, and if it won't stay put, we'll tape it in place. But why are diapers such a big deal? Vickie wears diapers, and you don't hear her whining about it. Pris is going to start wearing diapers so that Vickie won't feel so out of place when she comes home. And from now on, when I'm out there freezing my ass off on one of these God awful stakeouts, I'm going to wear a diaper too! I swear to God, Herb, that high school parking lot was the end of the line for me. I hate stakeouts, in no small part because there's no God, damned place for me to take a piss!”

“All right, already … enough!” Herb threw his hands in the air, surrendering to the inevitable. “I'll wear the damned pad!”

“And you'll stay in bed? Use the pad?”

“I'll give it a try.”

“Good. And I went to the drug store and bought a mattress pad that we can slip underneath you. Just in case you leak, it should keep the bed dry.”

“What's next, Julia? The coffee? The booze?”

“We're going to cut back on both-- and note that I said 'we', not 'you'. We're in this together, Herb, just like always. I'm going to get us a family membership at the Y, and we are going to exercise as a family. And if you need diapers and there's no other way to get you to agree, I'll wear them too. We'll both wear them to bed at night, and if it comes to it, we'll both wear them during the day as well.”

“Old age, Julia,” Herb said as he let out a deep sigh. “I'm retiring in two years … full pension. Financially, we'll be fine, but is this the camel's nose under the tent?”

“We've been lucky so far,” Julia mused. “But let's take this as a wake up call, and try and get out in front of the Grim Reaper. There are cruises to take, and soon there will be grandchildren to spoil. These can be the best years of our lives; we just have to work at it a little harder.”

“Diapers.” Herb let out another deep sigh. “Why did it have to be diapers?”

. . . .

“Up you go, baby.”

Sarah gave Ian a little push to get him onto the changing table, and working together, they got him safely stretched out on his back. Sarah finished up by pulling a strap across his chest and cinching it tight.

“We'll need another kitchen stepladder to make this easier for you,” she remarked. “And I want you to carry your cane with you at all times. Believe me, the scar tissue that has built up around that shell fragment in your spine is dense enough that, if you take a heavy fall, it will only move in one direction-- deeper into your spinal cord.”

“I had difficulty walking back to my office from the Student Union,” Ian admitted. “Joyce and Babs were both scared, and that's not acceptable. Maybe it's the climate up here, but I'm having mobility issues that I did not experience in LA.”

Sarah had Ian lift his hips so that she could remove his baby pants, then she took a quick peek inside his diaper. He wasn't mushy and only slightly damp, so they were good to go.

“Let me arrange the cribs,” Sarah said as she excused herself. Releasing the foot brake on the one closest to the door, she wheeled it aside so that she could lower the crib rails on both. Afterwards, she wheeled it back into place, and locked the brake.

“Gives us about as much room as a queen sized bed,” she explained; “and since neither one of us is obese, that's plenty of room.”

“More than we'll need,” Ian suggested, “because I plan to hold you tight.”

Sarah smiled at that, and then she got to work. “Making love to an incontinent calls for a certain amount of advance planning,” she grinned. “Diaper pail within easy reach … a diaper bag hanging from the bars with all our supplies ...”

“Our?” Ian looked at her curiously.

“I'm spending the night,” Sarah confirmed. “So, we shall be wearing the same diaper, and matching baby pants. Well, eventually ...”

Sarah's grin was provocative in the extreme, and her eyes were alive with desire. She wanted them to take their time, and make this night the stuff of lasting memories. Sarah slowly stripped, waiting until she was completely nude before releasing him.

Easing to his feet, Ian took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, no words needed to express the depth of his feelings.

Taking him by the hand, Sarah led him to the crib and waited for him to hoist himself up. When he was settled, she joined him, pulling the rail up and locking it firmly into place.

“Rita will release us in the morning,” she murmured when she saw the question forming in his eyes. “It will always be this way.”

"And Vickie?”

“Sometimes she will only watch, and other times she will join us. It depends on whether you are both naughty, or nice ...”

Straddling him, Sarah leaned down to kiss her beloved, driving her tongue deep into his mouth, taking possession, asserting the domina's control over her submissive. Ian remained quiet, content to obey, only his hands in motion, caressing her nipples, occasionally pinching them.

Sarah leaned into his touch, eyes closed, holding her breath. “Harder,” she whispered. “Harder.”

Ian teased her nipples with the balls of his thumbs, engorging them, and when Sarah leaned back, he rose to take her heavy breast into his mouth. Latching on, knowing this to be at the core of her fantasies, he began to suckle, imagining that he was draining her dry.

“Oh, God,” Sarah moaned, her eyes still tightly closed, “my baby … my baby ...”

“Mama,” Ian whispered as he paused to shift from left to right, nursing on one breast while his fingers pinched the nipple on the other, over and over again.

Reaching down blindly, Sarah unpinned one side of Ian's diaper, and cast it aside, exposing his penis to the air. As soon as she began to stroke it, she could feel it spring to life. And just as Vickie had claimed, what Ian lacked in length he made up for in girth.

“Oh, my,” she whispered. “You really do need Mommy's chastity cage! Would you like that, baby? Would you like Mommy to lock you up, and only release you long enough to pleasure Mommy and her friends? Would you like that, baby? Would you?”

Ian moaned, wanting Sarah to mount him, mount him and fuck him. He had wanted this ever since that first night, when she had come pounding on his door, demanding that he turn the stereo down.

“Please, Mama … take me … please, Mama.”

“Should I take that as a yes,” she asked in return as she guided his rock hard member to her clit, using him as a living wand to give her pleasure.

“Yes, Mama; please … anything. Take me … take me ...”

“Your wish is my command,” she whispered as she mounted him, using her muscles to get a firm grip, paralyzing him.

Ian yelped in surprise. No woman had ever so fully enslaved his cock, and he loved it. He surrendered completely, accepting that Sarah was his domina, and conceding her ownership of his body. If she wanted him under lock and key, so be it.

Sarah rode him, taking her time, her rhythm changing with her mood, a raging current one moment and a gentle stream the next. Looking down, she sensed that he had at long last surrendered to her, accepted that he was her property, to do with as she pleased. The chastity cage was resting at the bottom of his diaper bag. Should she lock him up in the morning? It would be so easy, after they had made love a second time, intensifying her domination, deepening her control. He would accept the cage willingly, perhaps even beg to be locked up. She thought about it … the control … no sex, no masturbation, not even an erection unless she permitted it. Absolute power … absolute ownership …

Sarah cried out as her orgasm exploded, Ian's seed pumping into her as he came in long, convulsive spurts, the raw material of life swimming deep into her vagina. Sarah reached into one of the pockets on the diaper bag, and pulled out a tampon. She pushed it into place, trapping his sperm inside her. Then she pinched his cock hard enough to stamp her ownership upon it even as it began to shrink. Pausing only to refasten his heavy diaper, she crawled up his body until her cunt was touching his lips.

“Eat me,” she commanded. “We have all the time in the world, so do it right, or Mommy will spank you tomorrow … a real spanking that will encourage you to do better next time.”

Ian was going to be spanked anyway, for she had decided that Saturday should always be his day of reckoning. And no matter how well his tongue serviced her, she was planning to give him a good, hard spanking lest he become too proud of his oral skills.

But Ian's tongue was magical, and she rode it for a long time. When she was finally satisfied, pausing only long enough to wrestle his baby pants into place and see to her own diaper, Sarah laid down at his side. Ian would spend the night deeply asleep in his Mommy's arms, his head nestled against her breast.

. . . .

“Welcome to my little corner of the world, Sis!” Vickie hugged Pris before ushering her inside. “To you falls the dubious honor of being the first woman invited to share my bed!”

“Which will be dismantled on Sunday, if we stay on schedule, to go into storage alongside mine. Just think, Vic, this may be the last time you sleep in this apartment.”

“My home for the last eight years,” Viv commented as she looked around the living room. “Lots of memories … some good, some bad. But I'm ready to move on.”

“Into a crib, no less. Mom's gonna love that!”

“So, where do we stand on the diaper front?”

“Mom and I are going to hit the mall after we collect Dad from the sorority. She's going to buy the same diaper for me that you wear during the day.”

“And some nice, pink baby pants?”

“Of course! And some baby blue ones for Dad. Mom's methodical; she'll buy everything Dad needs on a 'just in case' basis, and then ease him into it. Nighttime protection first, then get him to wear protection when he's holding court at The Pig Sty or going out to dinner. By the time he retires, the odds are pretty good that Dad will be 24/7.”

“What about the locking cover? You good with that?”

“Not really. Right now, Sarah, Mom and Bernice have the keys. I suppose that Bernice could change me when I'm on duty, but it would be awkward. Tippi is more than willing, but I don't want to aid and abet her fantasies. Then there's the trust issue. I'm doing this of my own free will, damn it, and I expect people to trust me to keep my promise. I don't need a stupid nursemaid.”

“Hear you loud and clear … and your willingness to take one for the team is bound to impress Dad. In your shoes, that's how I'd play it.”

“Who's got your keys?”

“Sarah and Rita. Mom should have one, too. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Want to hear a crazy idea?”

“I specialize in crazy,” Vickie laughed. “Remember?”

“Oh, yeah; for a moment there, I forgot. Anyway, I want the fourth key to your cover. I want to change you, and I want you to change me. You game?”

“Absolutely! That's a great idea! We're sisters ...”

“And this is what sisters do,” Priscilla finished.

“In the mood for popcorn?”

“Orville Redenbacher?”

“What else? With lots of salt and butter! My popper is state of the art. It's about the only appliance in the kitchen that I've mastered!”

“Then let's do it! And if we both poop in our diapers, Mom can deal with it!”

. . . .

“Julia, this is ridiculous. How can anyone sleep wearing this pad? It's so bulky that it feels like I've got a Subway sandwich stuck between my legs!”

Herb was tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, but the Maxipad that Julia had taped to the inside of his briefs had defeated him at every turn.

“Pris has worn one for four days a month, every month, for the last fifteen years,” Julia snorted, her patience long since exhausted by her husband's whining. “And unless you've been totally blind, at some point you must have noticed that I was wearing one right up to the moment when menopause finally set me free. So, if you're looking for sympathy, it isn't going to happen.”

“Julia ...”

“Don't 'Julia' me, Herb. You stay in bed, you stay on the mattress pad, and if you have to pee, just go ahead and do it. We'll survey the damage in the morning. Hopefully, it will be limited to your surprisingly frail ego. Honestly, Herb, I swear to God … at times you are such a baby!”

“There's got to be a better solution!”

“We'll try this for a couple of nights, just to get a handle on how much you are actually wetting. If the pads aren't up to the task, we'll hit the mall on Sunday. I have to stock up on diapers for Pris and Vic, and I'll get a few for myself for the next stakeout. With luck, we should be able to find something that works for you as well.”

“At the mall? I don't remember seeing a pharmacy over there, never mind a medical supply store.”

“Correct on both counts. We'll be visiting an infants and maternity wear store. That's where Sarah found the diapers for your adoptive daughter … the ones that she wears when she's at work. They apparently hold a lot without being bulky, so if the pads don't work, we'll give them a go at night … and when camping out at The Pig Sty.”

“JULIA!!!!!”

[mushy bottom]

Another great chapter.  The sex scene is hot, but Herb's battle with middle age and facing up to a prostate going downhill will probably hit home for a lot of readers.  Well done.

 

 

[littlebopeeper]

Herb is walking in my footsteps.  Really good job laying out how riding a desk can lead to an enlarged prostate, and a loss of bladder control.  Hope some of your younger readers take this to heart. 

[Babypants]

On 2/12/2025 at 5:20 PM, mushy bottom said:

Herb's battle with middle age and facing up to a prostate going downhill will probably hit home for a lot of readers.  Well done.

 

On 2/14/2025 at 4:05 PM, littlebopeeper said:

Really good job laying out how riding a desk can lead to an enlarged prostate, and a loss of bladder control.

Many thanks for these comments.  I have known quite a few Herbs in real life.  If you ride a desk, drinks lots of caffeinated beverages on a daily basis, and hate using public toilets, you are setting yourself up for what I'm describing here, which is informally known as latchkey incontinence.  The tell is when a person comes home, opens the door, and routinely rushes to the bathroom.  In time, there will be a bit of dribbling, then later it will turn into squirts, and ultimately to a loss of control.  Women are as prone to this as men, but they may also have to cope with postpartum incontinence.  Coughing and sneezing can lead to some embarrassing moments. 

[CDfm]

This has been out for a week now and somehow I missed it. Great chapter. Ian finally getting some relief and pleasing Sarah at the same time. I am not sure that if I were in Ian’s shoes I would be so willing to be so completely dominated as he is.  The diapers and locking cover are one thing because the diapers are a necessity.  But I really don’t think I would allow to have myself caged on top of that. Herb is another one I can’t imagine putting up with is treatment. It doesn’t seem like he actually needs a pad and if he does then a diaper would be much more appropriate. However as long as he is still able to get up and use the restroom then nothing would be needed.  If he is wetting himself while out drinking and getting intoxicated then that’s a different story.  Under those circumstances a diaper would be wise. 
I will be looking forward to seeing more. 
I am still working on catching up with Aardvark Platypus and Twinkletoes but I am working on it. 

[Babypants]

On 2/16/2025 at 10:40 PM, CDfm said:

Herb is another one I can’t imagine putting up with is treatment. It doesn’t seem like he actually needs a pad and if he does then a diaper would be much more appropriate. However as long as he is still able to get up and use the restroom then nothing would be needed.  If he is wetting himself while out drinking and getting intoxicated then that’s a different story.  Under those circumstances a diaper would be wise. 

Thanks for this.  I have known quite a few Herbs over the years, both male and female, including two of the four women with whom I have enjoyed long relationships.  Getting up to go pee 2 or 3 times a night, desperately rushing to the toilet when coming home, dribbling into one's underwear = scenes drawn from real life.  In 1979, pads and cloth diapers/vinyl pants were the only practical answers to latchkey incontinence because the layers of disposable "protection" now on the shelves at Walmart did not exist.  Pads were typically the first choice because they could be thrown in the trash.  Cloth diapers meant a highly visible diaper bag.  If you were a guy, you could cover your tracks with a gym membership.  In time, Herb is going to be very thankful that Julia is taking out a family membership at the Y. 

[Babypants]

On 2/16/2025 at 10:40 PM, CDfm said:

I am not sure that if I were in Ian’s shoes I would be so willing to be so completely dominated as he is.  The diapers and locking cover are one thing because the diapers are a necessity.  But I really don’t think I would allow to have myself caged on top of that

Let's try looking at male chastity from the female point of view.  Ian is polyamorous.  He met Priscilla on Monday morning, and on Wednesday afternoon they made love.  Sarah and her friends have also seen Ian's sperm report, and he is not shooting blanks.  A chastity device will not keep him from falling in love (Carlie on Thursday night), but it will prevent a sexual tryst that could impregnate someone outside the household.  In the scenes just ahead, Sofia will be pushing for a new diapering routine that involves his cage as a trade off for better skin care.  We'll see how it all plays out.   

[CDfm]

I guess I will just wait and see what happens.  I do understand that way of thinking.