AN HOMAGE TO VINCENT VEGA, SEASON TWO SCENE 55 (THE PLOT THICKENS)

[littlebopeeper]

On 11/29/2023 at 7:51 PM, Babypants said:

Oh, it's definitely safe to say that Vickie will find an upside in her diaper punishment!

Which would make Vickie the best choice to become Tippi's therapist, to answer the question you asked in the other story.  If Tippi also ends up locked in diapers, they will have a lot in common, and Vickie can teach her how to make the most out of a bad situation.

[Babypants]

LULLABY DIAPER SERVICE

One glance was all it took for Ian to realize that he was in deep trouble. It was one of those 'if looks could kill' moments, which reminded him yet again that Sarah did not appreciate his admittedly warped sense of humor. Still, he could not help but wonder whether Priscilla would intervene if his fiancee went ballistic in her own office; if it came to it, he was pretty sure that Pris could flatten her with one punch.

Ian rushed through the introductions, the pain in his lower back and the fire in his right hip urging him to find a place to sit down before he fell down. Vickie had already excused herself and rushed off in search of a phone. He had absolutely no idea what she would say to Amos, but Vickie being Vickie, he was pretty sure that Amos would be charging through the door in a matter of moments. If she made a second call, it would be downstairs to the neurology department.

The journey through the hospital corridors had not gone well. He had staggered three times, once bouncing lightly off the wall when the foot drop threatened to put him on the floor. Priscilla had rushed to his side, putting her arm around his shoulders to steady him. He made a joke about laying off the booze at lunchtime, but it was halfhearted and the concerned look on her face had not changed. Then Vickie had pointedly asked him to measure the pain in his lower back. He had told her the truth, and she had sworn under her breath before promising to arrange a neurological exam ASAP. She would, he knew, bend heaven and earth to get him in as early as the following afternoon.

Visibly struggling, Ian finally managed to sit down, Priscilla hovering just out of his line of sight. He tried to pay attention as Marilyn laid out her game plan, but he already knew the basics and his attention wandered. Sarah would either turn thumbs up, or she would turn thumbs down. He was content to leave such matters in her capable hands.

. . . .

When Ian and his friends walked into her office, Sarah treated him to her own version of “the Marge look,” and the way that he flinched made it clear that she had scored a palpable hit. In contrast, she offered the middle aged, well dressed businesswoman a welcoming smile. She posed no threat, in marked contrast to the obviously fit young policewoman who was hovering at Ian's side. There was no professional detachment in her eyes as she stared at her charge, her feelings for Sarah's fiance written all over her face.

How does he charm so many women, so quickly? How? Does he want to sleep with her as well?

Mentally shrugging in the face of a puzzle for which she had no answer, Sarah forced herself to focus on the headhunter sitting in front of her. If the lady had Amy's endorsement, the time that it would take to listen to her pitch would definitely be well spent. Department secretaries, and especially the ones who worked directly with the Chair, were notoriously well informed about the ins and outs of campus life. As it turned out, Sarah liked what she was hearing. Outside offers would create a retention issue that Ian's department chair could use to get him a sizable bump in pay. Doctors played this game all the time, whether young up and comers or seasoned professionals with substantial outside grants that the hospital was reluctant to lose.

It was a pity, she thought, that Vickie had rushed off rather than sticking around to hear the pitch. Thinking of Vickie brought a smile to Sarah's lips. She was still wearing her heavy winter coat as she charged out the door, doubtless in an effort to conceal her bulky diaper. However, Sarah suspected that such unusual behavior would only draw the attention that Vickie sought to avoid. It was only a matter of time, she concluded, before Vickie's diapers became common hospital knowledge.

And perhaps I can speed things up by not being at my desk tomorrow morning, when she shows up all wet and poopy. If she runs off and begs Rita for help, that will stir the pot nicely. As for Rita …

. . . .

On a Tuesday afternoon in the dead time between Thanksgiving and Christmas, the ER was predictably quiet, and for all intents and purposes Amos Waring was just standing around twiddling his thumbs. Vickie's call was put through to the orderlies' desk and, pausing only long enough to bring Andrew up to speed, Amos rushed off. If the Major needed help, he would provide it.

Reaching three, he headed directly to Sarah's office. Some kind of conference was in progress, Sarah consulting with a stylishly dressed middle aged lady, and Ian sitting off to the side, listening in. He wondered whether this was one of the headhunters that Rita had briefly mentioned over lunch the day before, trying to make conversation to get him out of his funk. If that was the case, Amos knew that the lady must have passed some kind of preliminary inspection to get this far.

What stopped him dead in his tracks was the female police officer at Ian's side. Young, good looking and physically fit, his first thought was that the lady cop would be good to have on his side in a barroom brawl. She looked like she could throw a mean punch.

A moment later, Vickie returned with a wheelchair.

. . . .

Ian noted Amos' arrival out of the corner of his eye, and he tried to stand and greet his fellow veteran. But Priscilla put her hands on both of his shoulders, and firmly pushed him back into his seat. A moment later, Vickie returned with a wheelchair.

“Priscilla, this is Amos Waring, one of our best orderlies and a good friend. Amos, this is Officer Priscilla Canon, campus police, currently detailed to escort Ian around campus and make sure that the headhunters mind their manners. Word to the wise, Amos: don't call her Prissy. And Pris, your father can probably tell you everything worth knowing about Amos-- he's a legend in the Third Precinct.”

“Lake Street brawler,” Priscilla asked as she inspected the orderly. He was roughly her age, and built like a brick shithouse. She reckoned that he would be a good guy to have at her side when dealing with a disorderly in her favorite bar up Northeast.

“The Third's got a holding cell with my name on it,” Amos proudly confessed. “Busted a few heads … broke a few pinball machines … nothing too dramatic.”

“My kind of guy,” Priscilla grinned, “although my taste runs to pool cues. Busted a few of them over the odd skull in my day as well. Anyone who calls me Prissy is going down for the count!”

“So noted,” Amos grinned. He liked the lady cop.

“Vic, what the hell is going on here?” Sarah was on her feet, nostrils flaring. She was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel in her own office.

“Not now, Sarah.” Vickie dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Amos … Pris … get him into the wheelchair. Get him down to X ray, Amos; I've already alerted them. Pris, go with them; you can answer any questions the techs might have. I'll phone the diaper service and let your mom know that we've been delayed.”

“Vix,” Ian protested, “this isn't necessary. I've had these episodes before, and I'm sure as hell going to have them again!”

“Enough, Ian! God damn it, what is the matter with you? You would have gone down in the corridor if Pris hadn't caught you!”

“WHAT,” Sarah yelled, alarm breaking through her anger, fear for Ian coursing through her veins.

Vickie ignored her and Marilyn alike, the latter still sitting in her chair but openly gawking at the drama unfolding around her.

“For God's sake, you've got a bullet lodged in your lower spine! What the hell do you think is going to happen if you take a hard fall?”

“Vix, I ...”

“No, Ian; this stops now. I'm your doctor, you are in my hospital, and you are going to do exactly what I tell you. Right now, you are going to get in that wheelchair and smile nicely when you get to the X ray department. You are going to do exactly what the techs ask you to do ...”

Vickie looked at Amos. “I'll be in Neurology; I'll catch up with you after I've brought them into the picture. They may want to run other tests.” Without another word, Vickie turned and dashed out of Sarah's office.

While Priscilla and Amos helped a thoroughly chastened Ian Grady climb into the wheelchair, Sarah calmed down enough to apologize to Marilyn. She indicated that her proposal had Sarah's blessing, and that she wanted to reconnect once things calmed down. The two women exchanged business cards, each adding her home telephone number for the other's benefit. They went down the elevator together, Marilyn heading for the parking ramp and Sarah for the X ray department.

. . . .

“We have a problem here,” the tech indicated. Working together, Amos and Priscilla had wheeled Ian into the X ray department, and helped him to undress. He was now leaning against the edge of the table, wearing nothing but his diaper, vinyl pants and diaper cover.

“These diaper covers have metal thread running through them,” the tech explained. “And then there are the diaper pins. We need to remove his diapers, and supply him with a regular hospital gown. Do either of you have the key?”

“I do,” Priscilla and Sarah answered simultaneously. Sarah had arrived mere seconds earlier. It was Sarah who did the honors, unlocking and removing his canvas diaper cover and baby pants in one smooth gesture. She unpinned his diaper and carefully lowered it; everyone was relieved to see that the garment was wet but unsoiled. The tech handed Sarah a gown, and she threaded Ian's arms through it and tied it off in the rear. With Amos' help, Sarah eased Ian onto the table.

“Would the two of you care to wait outside,” she asked politely. Sarah planned to observe the procedure and give the results a wet reading.

Priscilla and Amos retired to a bench opposite the X ray chamber, and settled in for a chat. He wanted to know if she had really busted a pool cue over some guy's head, and she described how she had recently floored a pissant with one punch to the jaw. In turn, Amos described his wrestling match with a Komodo dragon, enthralled her with tales from the stockade, and sheepishly admitted to being on a first name basis with just about every cop in the Third Precinct. Taking a deep breath and summoning up every ounce of his courage, Amos finally asked Pris whether she would like to have dinner sometime.

The light was dancing in Priscilla's eyes when she replied that she would like that very much.

Lying on the X ray table Ian couldn't move, but he was smiling nonetheless. His pain was real, but he was pleased because Vickie had made such brilliant use of it. With Sarah's unwitting assistance, they had given Amos and Priscilla a chance to become acquainted. Simultaneously, however, his near collapse in a hospital corridor opened the door to a long overdue neurological workup … opened it wide. It had been seven years since his last go round, and now he was going to find out whether his condition was stable or degenerative.

. . . .

Vickie left Neurology with marching orders firmly in hand. The first order of business was to get the army to cough up Ian's medical records, and as his physician of record, that was her job, and hers alone. Ian was beginning to exhibit symptoms of paraplegia independent of his incontinence, but neither Radiology nor Neurology could measure the progression of his symptoms without a baseline. Even as she made the short walk to the X ray department, therefore, Vickie was mapping out the request that she was going to lay on Glenn Albright's desk out at the VA. In recent years, for reasons unknown, the military had begun to slow walk requests of this nature, and they weren't above denying them altogether. Vickie was confident, however, that the tape Ian had pieced together would compel the administrator to play ball. A casual dinner with her friend the patent attorney might give her still more ammunition.

Walking into the X ray department, Vickie quietly took a seat on the opposite end of the room from Amos and Priscilla, who were knee deep in conversation. It looked like things were going very well on that front. Thinking about Mark Chambrey, who was a partner in one of the state's more high powered law firms, brought a smile to Vickie's lips. Mark was a family man, and his marriage was reasonably happy, but he had a sexual appetite that his wife alone could not satisfy. Their affair had been necessarily discreet, and it had ended amicably. Vickie knew that Sarah would demand that she be well diapered and under lock and key when she rendezvoused with Mark, but it didn't matter because theirs had never been a conventional affair. She had spanked his bottom beet red many a time, and then soothed the pain with skillful applications of her very knowledgeable tongue. If Ian's tape was worth the effort, Mark would wrap it up in the required fine print and secure his rights to ownership in perpetuity.

. . . .

With Sarah's assistance, Ian repeatedly shifted positions, permitting the radiographer to film his lower spine from a variety of angles. When they were finished, she untied the hospital gown and smoothly pinned his diaper back in place. After helping him to his feet, Ian stepped into his baby pants and diaper cover. One by one, Sarah pulled them up, taking care to see that none of the cloth was peeking out around his waist or thighs. When she was satisfied, she closed the lock, once more securing her fiance in his de facto chastity belt.

Gently, Sarah guided Ian to the wheelchair. The fire in his right hip had taken all the fight out of him, and he sat without protest. Sarah wheeled him out to the waiting room, caught Vickie's eye, and left Ian in Priscilla and Amos' care. Together, Sarah and Vickie retired to get their first look at the film; still dripping wet, the technician had hung the images in front of fluoroscopic screens.

Silently, they studied the various images with care. “We won't know for sure until we can compare this with his military records,” Vickie finally suggested, “but I see no lesions here … no evidence of migration.”

“I agree; it doesn't look like the fragment has moved.” Sarah sadly shook her head. “But the scar tissue ...” “My guess is that it's pressuring the spinal cord.”

Vickie completed Sarah's thought. “Pain meds,”

Sarah concurred; “maybe corticosteroid injections. But the surgeons in Japan and Hawaii were right; an extraction would be incredibly dangerous.”

“A good sawbones might be able to remove enough tissue to relieve the anterior pressure, but it would be a temporary fix at best. You're right, Stretch; it's gotta be band aids and bubble gum.”

“We're done here,” Sarah said as she nodded in agreement. “Look, I've got to get back to work. Have Amos help get him into the car, and if they're still open, head out to the diaper service. He needs a cane; I'll bring one home with me.”

“He has canes; there's one hanging on the coat rack in his office. But he's too proud, or too stubborn, to use it.”

“Typical,” Sarah muttered, “all that stupid male pride. Well, I'm going to spank it out of him. I've had it with his bullshit.”

“Got more bad news for you.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Priscilla's mother needs Ian's help. She's a private eye, and the diaper service has hired her to deal with a gang of diaper thieves. It looks like Ian won't be canceling his service after all. They want to use his order as bait.”

“That's insane! Who in their right mind would steal diapers?”

Vickie grinned. “With Ian's help, I'm reasonably certain that we shall soon find out! Now, lead me to a phone, and I'll let the service know that we're on our way.”

. . . .

Sitting in the wheelchair, waiting for Vickie to bring her car around to the main entrance, Ian tried to imagine the rumors that must already be making their way around the building. Having a policewoman at his side as Amos wheeled him through the corridors was the crowning touch. He had seen enough faces that he vaguely recognized from the cafeteria to know that Amos was going to be on the receiving end of some awkward questions.

“Hey, Amos, if anybody wants to know what's going on, just tell 'em that your friend the Major is prone to foot drop, and would have crashed and burned were it not for the heroic intervention of Officer Canon here, who somehow managed to keep me upright. Oh, and you might add that the university has assigned her to shadow me everywhere I go to keep all those nasty headhunters at bay. That should do the trick.”

“Thanks, Major,” Amos grinned. “For an officer, you catch on quick. This place runs on rumors, and you wouldn't believe the ones that are going around as we speak!”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay, well, if I can manage to slip away from my keepers, what do you say? One of these nights, should the three of us go out and get drunk somewhere?”

“Been wanting to do that since we first met,” Amos said with a grin.

“How about you, Pris? Ready to tie one on?”

“Only in a bar of my choice. Rough translation? A joint where I can use the manager's office to change your diaper. Up Northeast, drinking is an athletic event. If you can't drink your weight, you don't get to play.”

“Are we talking ounces?” Amos was in heaven

. “We are.”

“Hell, I can drink that much beer in less than ten minutes. Got any decent pinball machines?”

“We do … and who said anything about beer?”

Both men heard the challenge in her voice. “You're on, but I'll want a Lake Street rematch. I'll get some off-duty guys from the Third to back you up. And you'll like them, Major; as MP's go, they're a decent bunch.”

“Hong Kong rules?” Ian liked to get drunk, but he did have standards. One of them was never walking out of a bar with money in your pocket.

“Hong Kong rules?” Amos roared with laughter. “In Minnesota? In the dead of winter? Major, in case you haven't noticed, this ain't the Tropics!”

“All right, you two, give,” Priscilla glowered. “What the hell are Hong Kong rules?”

“You drink until you run out of money,” Amos crowed. “Then you stagger out the door, find a convenient curb, sit down, and pass out. The MP's peel you off the pavement and haul you off to the stockade, where a nice, warm bunk awaits! It's R and R at its best!”

“I'm guarding a lunatic,” Priscilla sighed, “but you're both nuts. Let's assume for the moment that hypothermia doesn't kill you. How are we going to get Ian's soaking wet diaper off when it freezes? With a blowtorch?”

“We'll think of something,” Amos laughed again. “We always do!”

Driving up to the curb, Vickie saw the unlikely trio waiting just inside the glass walled entryway. Amos was laughing his head off, and Ian and Priscilla had huge grins on their faces. She just prayed that Amos had had the good sense to ask Priscilla out on a date, and that she had been smart enough to accept.

. . . .

“So, do one of you want to tell me what's going on?” Vickie was making good time on city streets, her destination about ten miles out in the northwestern suburbs.

“We're plotting a jailbreak.” To Vickie's surprise, it was Priscilla who smugly replied.

“And who's going over the wall,” she asked as she glanced Priscilla's way in the rear view mirror.

“Ian, of course. A night free of bottles and breast milk, a night full of hard liquor and good friendship. The three of us are going to get smashed-- of course, you're welcome to join us. The four of us could team up and challenge the reigning champions in my dad's favorite bar.”

“I'm game,” Vickie laughed, “but there's no way Sarah would approve, and I'm not even sure Rita would.”

“So, we don't tell them … we just do it.”

“Curious. I get the impression that treating Ian like a baby really turns you on.”

“Oh, it does … it most certainly does. But I like to keep things balanced. Little baby Ian fills a hole in my psyche that I didn't even know was there. But I really, really like Professor Grady, and Professor Grady wants us to go out and get drunk. His sense of humor is warped enough when he's sober; I wanna find out what's he like when he's one shot away from puking his guts up.”

“Been there and almost done that,” Vickie laughed, thinking back to the Saturday night at Rita's when the two of them first met. “But there's a hurdle that I don't think I can overcome,” she confessed.

“Go on, Priscilla urged.

“Underneath this coat? I'm as heavily diapered as Ian is, and wearing the same rig. You have the key to Ian's diaper cover, but Sarah has all the keys to mine. She wants us both to be chaste and sober, so she doesn't leave us alone unless we're both locked up. Sarah and I hammered this agreement out in private, and oddly enough, I'm good with it. When I make love with this guy for the first time, I want it to be a night filled with moonlit kisses, fireworks exploding across the sky. No more sneaking around, no more quickies in the back seat of the car.”

Vickie reached over to pat Ian lovingly on the thigh. He was shaking his head and laughing softly, knowing exactly what Priscilla would say next.

“Funny you should say that,” Priscilla observed. “Yesterday, I asked him what would have happened if you had unlocked him for a quickie in the back seat before driving over to campus. He said that he would have passed. He's waiting for sunshine, lollipops and rainbows. The two of you are peas in a pod.”

“So, anyway, you see the problem,” Vickie said, returning to the problem at hand.

“Well, she hasn't muzzled either of you, so just bring extra clothing. The stools can take the punishment, but if you insist, we'll put towels underneath you. Just keep in mind that this is a cop bar, and my dad's buddies have seen it all. Heck, they'll probably bet on which of you leaks first!”

“I'd like to see which of them leaks first.” Ian was joining the conversation for the first time.

“Meaning?” Priscilla was intrigued to learn where Ian was going with this.

“We let everybody take a leak, and then we padlock the johns. Then we drink, and whoever pisses him or herself first buys the next round, and so forth. To make it fair, we bring lots of diapers and pins from the hospital, and hand them out to anyone who wants them. Odds are that whoever ends up buying the first round will have been too proud to wear a diaper, giving new meaning to the parable that Pride Goeth Before the Fall.”

“Oh, you wicked, wicked man, you … I like it!” Priscilla didn't know whether any of her dad's friends would be game, but either way, roll call the next morning would be a hoot!

“Thursday works for me,” Ian offered. “I'm coming over for a heart to heart with Rita, and Sarah's working late, so Vic and I should be able to update The Great Escape.”

“I'll call Amos, and see if he can get someone to cover his shift,” Priscilla nodded. “He's promised me dinner, and the joint puts out a mean Juicy Lucy and house cut steak fries.”

Ian reached over and rested his hand on Vickie's thigh. She patted it. Neither of them said a word.

. . . .

Between them, Ian and Priscilla carried out the introductions all around. Ian was impressed by Julia's succinct but clear description of the problem, and her honest admission of how the thieves had been ahead of her every step of the way. Her plan to get them to reveal themselves was simplicity itself, and the electronic homing device that Priscilla handed over brought a wicked smile to her lips. Like her daughter, however, Julia wondered just how military grade surveillance gear happened to be sitting in the desk drawer of a midwestern university professor of East Asian languages. She knew damned well that you couldn't walk into a store in Chicago or anywhere else in the country and buy this sort of thing off the shelf. Her curiosity fully aroused, she decided to have her husband run Ian Grady through the system and see what popped out the far end.

For her part, Harriet was happy to see Ian again, and gracious enough to congratulate him on his impending marriage. With the way that he and Vickie were looking at one another, and with the sexually charged atmosphere that surrounded them, she took it for granted that Doctor Robinson was the bride to be, and congratulated her as well. Vickie gently corrected the misunderstanding, and went on rather awkwardly to explain how Ian would marry Sarah, but live with her and Rita as well. Julia managed to keep her poker face in place throughout the explanation, while Francie smirked and Harriet listened in obvious disbelief. She expected that her husband would take a mistress or two, but for propriety's sake she also expected him to wait until after the birth of their first child. She was prepared to overlook a lot for the sake of her family, but she would never tolerate her husband's mistresses moving in with them! What were these people thinking?

Coming to Vickie's rescue, Ian impulsively decided to invite Harriet and Francie to attend Rita's upcoming Saturday night frolic. He was grateful to Harriet for the attention that she had shown him, and he thought that mingling with the Circle and seeing Vickie, Sarah and Rita in their own element would put her mind at ease. Both accepted on the spot.

Amy … Priscilla … Suzie … Harriet … Francie … possibly Marilyn.

Rita's living room was going to be very crowded. Ian wondered if they were going to need more chairs.

. . . .

Bone tired after long hours in the courtroom, Rita staggered off the elevator and made her way to her office. She had asked Candy to run interference for her, and pick up the lab results for her fertility test. She knew that they were sitting on her desk. She sat down, lifted the blotter, and pulled out the envelope. It was sealed. Sitting there, she was still not sure that she even wanted to read the cold, clinical description of her reproductive system that awaited her. Could she have a baby, or had Ian come into her life too late? Taking a deep breath, she slit the seal with a fingernail, removed the thin stack of pages, and settled back to read.

[Guilend]

Why Ian, why? You have failed me. And Vickie, you silly woman, you're going to wish you had a diaper on when Sarah uses the paddle on your bare bottom and gives you an enema and makes you sleep in a messy diaper over your bruised butt. Can't wait for more lol

[Babypants]

20 hours ago, Guilend said:

Why Ian, why? You have failed me. And Vickie, you silly woman, you're going to wish you had a diaper on when Sarah uses the paddle on your bare bottom and gives you an enema and makes you sleep in a messy diaper over your bruised butt.

LOL!!!  As Ian said to Tippi, his relationship with Sarah is a work in progress, with kinks that have yet to be worked out.  Trust me, he knows what he's doing here.  As for Vickie, what can one say?  She has been spanker and spankee many a time, and for all we know, enjoys both giving and receiving enemas.  She's a brilliantly intuitive therapist, but her intuition is born of personal experience.  Vickie holding court in a cop bar should be a tad entertaining!

[Guilend]

3 hours ago, Babypants said:

Trust me, he knows what he's doing here

I really don't think he fully understands what he's doing lol, but if you think he does then he's just asking to be punished lol.

 

3 hours ago, Babypants said:

As for Vickie, what can one say?  She has been spanker and spankee many a time, and for all we know, enjoys both giving and receiving enemas.  She's a brilliantly intuitive therapist, but her intuition is born of personal experience.  Vickie holding court in a cop bar should be a tad entertaining

She definitely likes getting spanked, maybe she'll have an orgasm during the spanking she'll be getting later from Sarah lol. She might like enemas, but how does she feel about messy diapers? Or about having to spend the night in one? I'm kind of hoping she discovers that she has a humiliation and possibly a degradation kink lol. The bar scene will be interesting for sure. Once the bar knows about her diapers it's not going to be long everyone at work will know lol.

I have a feeling Priss will also get in trouble with Sarah since technically she's the babysitter lol.

[Babypants]

21 hours ago, Guilend said:

I have a feeling Priss will also get in trouble with Sarah since technically she's the babysitter lol.

Pris is going to get in trouble, all right, but not perhaps for the reason you think, nor with the person you assume!

[Guilend]

5 minutes ago, Babypants said:

Pris is going to get in trouble, all right, but not perhaps for the reason you think, nor with the person you assume!

With her dad? I bet it's her dad lol. She's going to get spanked in front of everyone at the bar by her daddy. Yup, then diapered because it's me and I always vote diaper lol

[littlebopeeper]

A lot to unpack here.  Priscilla and Amos do seem like a good fit, and we learn that Ian won't be the first guy with whom Vickie has a spanking relationship.  Now we can see why in the early chapters you emphasized that she is an expert spanker.  Priscilla is emerging as a troublemaker.  Is she going to be punished for her actions?  If so, how and by whom?  Can't wait to see where you go with this.  

[Babypants]

On 12/8/2023 at 11:42 PM, littlebopeeper said:

Priscilla is emerging as a troublemaker.  Is she going to be punished for her actions?  If so, how and by whom?

Is Priscilla in for it?  Well, let's just say that bad things often happen to women who get so smashed in a bar that they can't walk straight!

[Guilend]

5 hours ago, Babypants said:

Is Priscilla in for it?  Well, let's just say that bad things often happen to women who get so smashed in a bar that they can't walk straight!

I can't wait for the next chapter lol

[CDfm]

Great chapter. 
I can’t imagine how angry Sarah will be when she hears about this escape attempt.  I can’t even consider how angry, should they actually be able to pull it off. I do know that I don’t want to be anywhere near her. 
I am concerned the Major is going to be able to physically preform for all these women with his medical condition. Seems like there would be a hugh letdown for the women given that they all want him in bed. I would hope a few would stick around to help him should that happen. 
I am looking forward to seeing more. 

[Babypants]

3 hours ago, CDfm said:

I am concerned the Major is going to be able to physically preform for all these women with his medical condition. Seems like there would be a hugh letdown for the women given that they all want him in bed.

You are quite right; the danger here is real.  Fortunately for Ian, he is dealing with three highly experienced medical professionals who know what erotic positions are safe, and what are dangerous.  As for the larger issue of keeping up with the sexual demands of three women in one household, we shall see that Rita and Vickie are both happy to have Sarah become head of household and make the decisions that will keep everything running smoothly.  But will Ian be content with so regimented an existence?  Going forward, it's going to become more and more obvious that Ian wants Sarah to manage his life, not micromanage it.  In contrast, Sarah wants to control as much as she can, leaving Ian the freedom to do only what common sense dictates, which really means give him no freedom at all.

In fairness, Sarah doesn't have a clue who Ian really is.  This is a very complicated man, with a deeply haunted past.  The curtain will finally go up in scene 41 (The Searchers), which concludes the first season of this story.  How much of the truth Ian discloses, and how the women who love him react to the revelations, will play out in season two against the backdrop of their own very human desires and needs.  

 

[Guilend]

24 minutes ago, Babypants said:

Rita and Vickie are both happy to have Sarah become head

I'm interested to see how Rita fits into this. Vickie will be her baby(probably end up being the naughty diapered cheerleader after time as a baby). And her diapers will be her chastity belt. But Rita, while I see her letting Sarah lead and be in charge, I'm not sure how that'll look. Will she be Sarah's baby or toddler in diapers? While I see Sarah using diapers to punish her, I don't see her needing to lock her in diapers to prevent her sleeping around, or jumping Ian at the drop of a hat. So maybe she'll be like the oldest sister that babysits. 

Sarah definitely needs to slow her role and listen to those under her and act accordingly. There has to be a give and take that everyone can live with.

[littlebopeeper]

17 hours ago, Guilend said:

I'm interested to see how Rita fits into this.

Good point about Rita.  We have learned a lot about Sarah and Vickie, and it looks like you are going to flesh Ian out big time in the next few chapters.  I'm looking forward to lifting the curtain on Rita as well.  If she has an active social life, it has yet to surface.  Will we learn more about her when she and Ian sit down for their talk on Thursday?

[Babypants]

Quickie historical quiz:

Priscilla's reference to Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows in this scene was inspired by Lesley Gore's song with this title.  First released on an album in 1963, it was released as a single and climbed the charts in 1965 after Lesley performed it in one of the four so-called Beach Party movies released that year by American International.  This film was:

A.  Beach Blanket Bingo

B.  Ski Party

C.  How to Stuff A Wild Bikini

The song remains phenomenally popular to this day.  In is an essential element, for example, of the 2009 film Cloudy with A Chance of Meatballs.

[Guilend]

I think it's A, but B sounds good to lol, but in the back of my mind tells me I'm wrong and even though I'm certain it's not C that it is in fact C.

I'll choose C because I'm an idiot lol. 

[littlebopeeper]

12 hours ago, Guilend said:

B sounds good

B (I saw the movie)

[Babypants]

THE PADDLE

Vickie peeked at Ian out of the corner of her eye. They were finally alone, making the drive down to Ian's apartment, and they would not be disturbed until Sarah showed up sometime after eight. Vickie kept waiting for him to say something, to ask her about the X rays, but he was silent as the Sphinx. She debated putting it off with small talk about the squishy state of their diapers, and how messy Sarah might find them both when she finally walked through the door, but she couldn't get past the foot drop episodes in the hospital corridor. Nor could she get the cane hanging behind his office door out of her mind. He admitted that these episodes were not uncommon, so why didn't he carry the cane with him? Was it, as Sarah had suggested, nothing more than stubborn male pride? Was he afraid that they would dump him if he admitted that he was disabled? In the end, she decided to broach the subject, but to come at it indirectly.

“I'm afraid that you're in for still another spanking,” Vickie confessed, not turning her eyes away from the highway. “Or maybe it will be a paddling. I'm not sure, but trust me, the paddle really, really hurts.”

“What heinous crime did I commit this time?” Ian's tone was polite but uninterested. He was watching snowflakes swirl in the car's headlights, night having fallen over the city minutes before their arrival at the diaper service. If Sarah's threats were to be taken seriously, this would be the fourth spanking for which he was overdue.

“You have a cane, but you refuse to use it. Why? Ian, you scared us, and it has to stop. Why are you so afraid to look me in the eye and say, 'Vickie, I'm disabled'. Do you think that I'm going to cast you aside if you confess to something that I can see with my own eyes? Do you think that Sarah or Rita are going to abandon you? God, Ian, we love you-- even Rita loves you, she just hasn't come to terms with it yet. We know what we're getting into, perhaps better than you do. We are committed to this relationship, so a little honesty on your part would be much appreciated.”

“You're right, Vix, and I apologize. I owe all three of you an apology. It's just that I've been fighting this battle by myself for so long. When I stand up, I'm good for about eighteen hundred steps, and then it all falls apart. The pain in my lower back and right hip becomes unbearable, or my brain suddenly decides that my right foot isn't there any more, and down I go. Sometimes, like today, it all rushes at me simultaneously. If Priscilla hadn't caught me when I bounced off the wall ...”

“I know, baby, I know.” Vickie shook her head in sorrow. “I wish I could tell you that it's going to get better, but I can't. I'm not going to lie to you; as you get older, it's going to get worse.”

“I figured that. Sooner or later, I'll have to cope with arthritis as well. But that's for another day. What did you see on the X rays?”

“Keeping in mind that Sarah and I are not radiologists, it looks like the bullet is stable, but dense scar tissue has built up around it. It's nudging your spinal cord, hence the pain that your experiencing all down your right leg.”

“Got it,” Ian nodded.

“You know what's funny, well … at least from where I'm sitting? Sarah is planning, as she so eloquently puts it, to spank the bullshit out of you, and I don't see anything on the X rays to prevent her from doing her worst. As long as she's careful … keeps her cool … she can turn your ass beet red … we both can. Spankings, paddlings … you've earned the lot, Ian. Do you understand? It was one thing for you to dick around with your health when you were the only one who had to live with the consequences, but those days are over. Now, the three of us have to pick up the pieces, and the emotional ones really hurt. God, when I saw the pain written all over your face, saw you crash into the wall, it felt like the earth had opened and was swallowing me whole. I was so afraid for you that I pissed myself … I soaked this stupid diaper … soaked it! Damn it all, would you puh … lese show the women you love a little consideration!”

“Yeah, I hear you. Believe me, I hear you loud and clear. I've been a jerk, and the only thing I can say in my defense is that it's all happened so fast. Falling in love? It feels like I was on top of the Empire State Building and took the leap. I'm in free fall, Vix; I can see the pavement rushing up from down below … rushing up fast, and I'm scared.”

“Second thoughts are natural, Ian; in fact, they're healthy.”

“It's not that, Vix; it's not that at all. I don't want to hurt you, or Sarah, or Rita. But how can I avoid it? You said it yourself. 'It's going to get worse'. I don't want to drag the three of you down with me.”

“That won't happen, for the simple reason that all three of us are going into this with our eyes wide open. And let me say it again: we probably have a better handle on your future than you do.”

“I wasn't kidding about Thursday night, Vix. And no, I'm not changing the subject. I need something to hold onto, a part of the old me that I can hold onto while I'm trying to figure out how the new me should act. Can you understand that … understand that Sarah will be better off if she gives up this idea of taking total control of my life? If she does that, I will no longer be the man she loves … I'll be someone else … a stranger.”

“True, and I'll work on her, I promise you. But you need to understand that women go into a marriage fully intending to tinker with the man they marry. Deep down inside, we're all convinced that your mothers did a lousy job raising you, and that we can do it better. You're all just putty in our hands-- or in your case, six hands. Lucky you!”

“So, what should I do about Rita? Thursday is coming up awful fast.”

“For a start, be honest. Apologize for occasionally being an insensitive jerk, open up about your feelings for her, and let her know that at times you feel like you're drowning. There's no shame in admitting that this is all new to you, and that you're scared. Then ask her to change your widdle diapee; one thing I know for sure is that she enjoys babying you. What the two of you need to figure out is whether you're after a Mommy/baby relationship, want to be lovers, or maybe some combination of the two. As long as you're on the same page, everything will go well.”

“Good advice,” Ian conceded. “But don't be surprised if I end up tripping over my tongue.”

“Rita will make allowance,” Vickie laughed. “After all, no woman expects a man openly to share his feelings unless there's a cattle prod shoved up his ass, and he sees her finger on the trigger. You'll do fine.”

. . . .

Rita set the last sheet down, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. The report contained both good news and bad, but perhaps more importantly, it contained nothing that she hadn't expected.

There had been no nasty surprises hiding in the ultrasound, but she had failed the hormone stress test, Linda circling the elevated cortisol reading in bright red ink. She had even added a personal note:

You're desk bound. You need fresh air and exercise. Cut down on the booze, and above all on the coffee. If you have a hobby, give it more time. L

In contrast, her estrogen and progesterone numbers were textbook for a woman in her mid-thirties, and the ovarian reserve test had yielded surprisingly good numbers. She still had roughly 90,000 eggs in her basket.

Lookin' good, kiddo. This would normally give you one chance in five every time out, but he's so fertile that one in four seems more reasonable. Mount him, or ride sidesaddle, but always remember that, in the immortal words of the Duke, “we're burning daylight.” Seriously, don't put this off. A year from now, some of these numbers will be in free fall. L

Rita shook her head, thinking about the chat that she and Ian were going to have on Thursday afternoon. She knew what she wanted to do; indeed, deep down inside she had known from the moment she finished crunching the numbers in his sperm report.

But how do I tell him? How does any woman tell a man to whom she's not married that she wants to have his baby? And what do I do if he says “no?” Dear God, what do I do?

. . . .

“Did you feed him?” Sarah kicked off her shoes, and tossed her winter coat onto Ian's couch.

Vickie gestured at the empty baby bottles littering the floor around them. Sarah didn't need to know that the breast milk had been poured down the drain, and replaced with the gin and tonics that she and Ian had shared over the last couple of hours. Sucking gin out of a baby bottle had given her a nice buzz.

Vickie was cradling Ian's head in her lap, and running her fingers slowly through his hair. Sergio Mendez was playing softly in the background. Thursday night couldn't come soon enough.

“How's your diaper?”

“Wet. We're both soaked, and Ian's definitely messy. I may be as well … it's hard to tell.”

“He's sleeping, so I'll change you first.”

Sarah handed Vickie a throw pillow, which she slipped under Ian's head. She climbed to her feet and, unbidden, walked to the bedroom, Sarah following.

“You brought his dirty diapers back with you.” Sarah nodded in the general direction of the entryway, where Ian had dropped the bag when they entered the apartment. Some of the diapers had been sitting around for two weeks, so the unmistakable smell of feces mixed with urine had predictably fouled the air. “What's the game plan?”

“Ian will leave the bag of soiled diapers in the hallway before you drive him to the office, same as always. The guy driving Lullaby's truck will show up at the usual time, and make the exchange. There's a homing device sewn into one of the clean diapers. If the thieves take the bait, Priscilla's mother will follow them. If things go well, she'll wrap the case up in time to be home for dinner.”

“Neat. Pants and blouse off, please.”

Vickie hastily complied, and once Sarah had unlocked and removed the diaper cover and baby pants, she laid down on the mattress protector atop the bed. Sarah unpinned her diaper, and lowered it to survey the damage. “You're right, Vic; you're soaked, and you've pooped yourself. Couldn't you tell?”

“I wasn't sure. I farted. It felt wet, but I wasn't sure.”

Sarah got to work with baby wipes. Determined to be thorough, she took her time.

“Did you get anything to eat,” she asked as Vickie pulled her knees up to her chest, exposing her rear. It was covered with mushy poop, beneath which Sarah detected the faint beginnings of a diaper rash. She would be finishing up with a soapy wash cloth, and a lot of baby powder.

“No, not yet. It was starting to snow when we left Lullaby, so I wanted to get here before the road went to hell. Did you pick up something?”

“No. I was eager to get home and look after my babies. But it doesn't matter because I'm not hungry anyway.”

After Vickie left, Sarah was planning to toss something together downstairs in her own kitchen.

“So,” she continued, “let's finish up here. After I've got you clean and freshly diapered, you can stop and grab something on the way home. It's stopped snowing, and the roads are in good shape.”

“Wait a second,” Vickie protested. “I thought that I'd sleep here tonight. I don't want you to send me home in a diaper! Please! There's no way I can stay dry until tomorrow morning!”

“Vickie, you are trying my patience. We have an agreement, and you are going to honor it to the letter. Tonight, I want to have Ian to myself, so you are going home, and you will be wearing a diaper. Come to my office first thing in the morning, and I will clean you up and give you your big girl panties … unless, of course, you would prefer to spend your shift in a diaper as well. I must admit that diapers suit you, but it would be impossible to hide your condition from our colleagues. It's up to you, but if I hear one more word out of you, you're going over my knee. Frankly, I'm looking forward to your first spanking, just as I'm looking forward to giving Ian his first paddling in an hour or so. Both of you need to learn that Mommy means business.”

Vickie briefly thought about standing up to Sarah, but just as quickly abandoned the idea. Forcing Ian to choose between them, or more accurately to choose between his mommy and his wife, invited catastrophic consequences. Ian needed both to make him whole, and neither she nor Sarah was capable of convincingly playing both roles. In Vickie's estimation, Rita could do it-- but the complexity of her feelings for Ian had cast her adrift in the treacherous waters of self examination. What she was going through, Vickie believed, was healthy and long overdue, but it meant that her support could not be taken for granted. She might go either way; indeed, she might usurp Sarah's authority by remaining neutral, becoming the impartial arbiter to whose judgment both Vickie and Sarah would be forced to bow.

“I'm sorry, Mommy.” Vickie was eating crow, and it tasted terrible. “I keep forgetting the reason why you're keeping me in diapers. I've been naughty for so long, and now I want to be good, but it's hard. Please spank me when I'm bad.”

“I would like to spank you right now, but we'll wake the baby, so it will have to wait. Now, let's get you into a nice, clean, dry diaper.”

Sarah had Vickie raise her hips so that she could spread one of the thick hospital diapers out beneath her tush. She generously sprinkled baby powder and rubbed it in, then applied a second coating. “You're a little red down there,” she commented, “and I don't want you to get a diaper rash. Besides, the powder makes you smell soooo good!”

“Thank you, Mommy; I like it too.”

Using four pins, Sarah fastened the diaper tight, then slid the pink baby pants and diaper cover up Vickie's legs. On command, she raised her hips so that Sarah could finish up. When the lock snapped shut, and Vickie was once more condemned to a wet and possibly messy night, Sarah was satisfied that she had put one of her babies in her place. But there was one more act of calculated humiliation that she decided to perform. It was time for Vickie to begin bottle feeding, and to get her first taste of breast milk. This time, Sarah would not take “no” for an answer.

. . . .

Once Vickie was out the door and on her way, Sarah checked on Ian. He was still asleep, and Sarah decided to take advantage of the opportunity to retire to her own apartment. She wanted a bite to eat, but she also wanted to prepare for his paddling. She moved a chair into the center of the room, then placed a quarter on one of the end tables flanking her couch. She was planning to cap his punishment with a time out that would encourage him to think about his actions, and to come to terms with the fact that, from now on, they would have consequences. She insisted upon total control of her baby husband's life, and if she had to be harsh or even cruel to achieve complete and unquestioning obedience, she would not hesitate.

. . . .

Vickie raced home, her only detour the drive-thru at a McDonald's. She wolfed down the Big Mac and fries while she drove, finally liberating her taste buds from the breast milk that Sarah had fed her, but she opted to save the chocolate shake for later. When she reached her apartment, she kicked off her shoes, shoved the shake into the refrigerator, and dropped her heavy winter coat on the kitchen floor. She rushed into the bedroom, tore off her blouse, and cursed as she struggled to peel her pants down over the thick diaper. Finally casting her bra aside, she yanked one of the dresser drawers open, and pulled her favorite wand out of its resting place.

Lying on the bed, so sexually frustrated that she could scream, Vickie activated the wand with one hand while she began to massage her nipples with the other. All she could think of was Ian, his knowing tongue licking and nibbling on her tits, then moving on to her clit, then attacking her G spot, his thick cock finally piercing her and driving her mad with desire.

Vickie was panting, her body writhing on the bed, the foreplay so well rehearsed. How many times had she fantasized like this over the years, how many times had her juices begun to flow before she let the wand work its magic and bring her to a thunderous climax?

She tried a low setting first, and when that failed to stimulate her, she ramped it up, not stopping until she had the wand on full. She massaged her clit … she massaged the canyon that separated her buttocks … she tried to ram the wand down first the front and then the back of her diaper. But the diaper was thick and the cover impenetrable. Her efforts were rewarded with a slight tingling, nothing more. It sufficed to keep her aroused, but was not nearly strong enough to allow her to cum. Her frustration steadily mounted, and when it became clear that she would never reach orgasm, she pounded the bed with her fist, her outraged screams giving way to despairing cries and finally to a muted whimper.

Vickie fell into a troubled sleep, making love to Ian in her dreams, but knowing all the while that she would always need Sarah's permission to make love to him in reality.

. . . .

Sarah stood over Ian, watching the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. Once, she might have marveled at his ability to fall asleep virtually at will, but her tenure at the VA hospital had taught her that soldiers were schooled to snatch sleep whenever they could grab it. It was a skill that she could appreciate because it was one that doctors and nurses had to master if they were to survive their residencies.

Retiring to the kitchen, Sarah warmed up a couple of bottles of breast milk. She planned to wake her naughty little baby, cradle him in her arms, and show him the nurturing side of her personality. Then she would lead him downstairs, knowing that he would intuit what was coming the moment he saw the chair sitting by itself in the middle of her living room floor. She calculated that his paddling would be far more effective if it took him completely by surprise.

While the bottles warmed on the stove, Sarah repaired to the bedroom, gym bag in hand. She collected spare diapers and vinyl pants, but it was the locking mittens and feeding gag that were critical to his spanking. She would produce them only when it became clear that he knew a spanking was in the offing. If he resisted either implement, she would promise him still another spanking for his disobedience. If he meekly submitted, it would be a clear indication that he accepted her as his mommy. His reaction would determine whether he would read the D/s contract tonight, or later. She wanted his signature tonight, if at all possible, so that she could move on to dealing with Vickie. She had them both under lock and key, but she wanted them to acknowledge her authority in writing.

Returning to the living room and positioning herself on the floor, Sarah lifted Ian's head off the pillow, which she casually threw aside. He was still at most half awake when he slipped into her arms, and she was delighted to see his mouth yawn open when she pressed the nipple to his lips. She wanted his infantile responses to be natural , and the conditioning that he had undergone in her absence had taken him well down this path.

As he nursed, Ian gradually came fully awake. He looked up into Sarah's eyes, but he continued to suckle without interruption, rhythmically pulling the warm breast milk into his mouth.

He's content with his ba ba, and he no longer objects to the milk. Breast feeding will seem natural to him, and it will be like heaven on earth for me! Wonder how he'll react when Mom comes to visit, and he discovers that his nanny makes me seem like a pushover in comparison.

When the baby finished his ba bas, she summoned a loud burp, and then ordered him to his feet. Taking him by the hand, she led him downstairs and ushered him into her apartment. She knew that he was unusually wet and messy, his last diaper change now hours in the past, but she was actually looking forward to cleaning his dirty bottom. She had positioned his changing pad directly in front of the chair, and she would put the mittens and gag within easy reach. Only when he was over her lap and his bottom nicely warmed with a hand spanking would she produce the paddle. It guaranteed that this would be a night he never forgot.

. . . .

Ian's eyes grew wide and he stopped dead in his tracks when he entered Sarah's living room and caught sight of the chair. When he saw the determined look in her eyes, his heart sank. If he was about to be spanked for tormenting Rita, he had to admit that the spanking was fully justified. Offering no resistance, he stood quietly while Sarah undressed him. She did so silently, speaking for the first time only when she had unlocked his diaper cover and pulled it down to his ankles.

“Down,” she said after he had kicked the heavy canvas cover off first one leg and then the other.

He obeyed, and she sank to her knees beside him. She ordered him to lift so that she could remove his baby pants, and then unpinned his dirty diaper. She used the edges to clean up what she could, and then attacked his bottom with wet wipe after wet wipe. She rubbed hard, wanting both to clean him and to bring blood to the surface.

When she was finished, she ordered him to sit up and hold out his hands. Still offering no resistance, his hands were quickly and efficiently locked in the thick mittens, and he opened wide to accept the gag when she held it in front of his face. It was his first hint that this spanking was really going to hurt-- Sarah did not want his cries to reach the neighbors.

Sarah took her seat, and simply pointed at her lap. Ian took his place, and offered her his hand. She took it, and pinned it painfully against the small of his back while she tightly gripped his legs between her own.

“Baby, do you know why you are being punished? I will take a grunt as a 'yes'.”

Ian grunted.

“You disobeyed me, and you showed nothing but contempt for Rita. I gave her clear instructions to limit you to breast milk, and when she tried, you defied her. From now on, when you defy your mommy or your aunties, you are going to be punished. I sincerely hope that you will quickly learn that none of us are going to tolerate your misbehavior.”

Sarah spanked his right buttock dead center, the first in a series of rapid smacks. Then she moved on to his left buttock before assailing his upper thighs. She wanted to get his attention, and she wanted to bring his rear end to a rosy glow. When she was satisfied, she reached into the gym bag and withdrew the paddle. Ian could not see it, and had no idea what was coming. Sarah raised her arm, took careful aim, and brought it down as hard as she could.

THWACK!

Ian screamed, but the gag muffled it. Taking her time, wanting to prolong his agony to drive home the lesson, she administered a dozen equally heavy blows, each of them bringing another muffled scream. When she was finished, she ordered him off her lap and onto the changing pad. Silently, she pinned him into a fresh diaper, retrieved his baby pants and cover, and locked it back in place. Still gagged, and with the mittens still locked in place, she forced him to crawl into a corner and climb to his feet. Holding up the quarter, she instructed him to keep it in place with his nose.

“This is a time out,” she explained, “an opportunity for you to think about how naughty you've been, and to learn some self-control. I'm going to make this very simple for you. You will remain here until I tell you to move, and if you disobey and the quarter falls to the floor, you will go right back over my lap for another paddling. Then we'll try it again, and if we have to do this all night long, we will.”

Sarah walked away, and took a seat on her couch. Since her fiance had complied with her every demand, she would finish up by having him read and sign the contract. In the morning, she would make multiple copies, one of which would go in the mail to her mother, along with an invitation to visit at any time. She knew that her mom would be extremely pleased by how well things were progressing.

. . . .

Nose pressed to the wall, Ian's ass was on fire, but he ignored it. The pain would fade, although the bruising would cause residual discomfort for the next day or two. What he did not do was contemplate his sins; to the contrary, he concentrated on the quarter because he was pretty damned sure that Sarah meant it when she promised him another trip over her lap if it fell to the floor. Patience won out, the patience of a soldier who had stood to attention on more than one parade ground.

When he finally stepped away from the wall, he was not at all surprised when Sarah ordered him to his knees, and had him crawl over to the couch. And when she removed the mitten on his right hand, dropped the contract in front of him with an order to read and sign, he was relieved to discover that there was nothing unexpected in the document, and nothing that he wasn't prepared to live with. In essence, it codified their relationship as mommy and baby, surrendered control of his body to her authority, and outlined in excruciating detail the punishments that he would suffer for his misbehavior. It was, in the final analysis, merely the dotted I and crossed T on the verbal agreement that they had hammered out on their Saturday night excursion to The Dead Zone.

But Sarah wasn't a lawyer, and there were enough gaps in the document to afford him some wiggle room. He needed Sarah to manage his life, but not to micromanage it. The middle ground would only emerge over time, through trial and error-- and the errors promised to be painful.

Still gagged, Ian obediently crawled into Sarah's bedroom. Silently towering over him, Sarah made eye contact, and then slowly began to undress. First she removed her blouse, and then her bra, setting her heavy breasts free at last. Then she lowered her pants, taking care to pull her panties down in the same motion. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she slowly removed them, never breaking eye contact. When she was finished, she crossed her right leg over her knee, leaving her foot sensuously twirling in Ian's face.

“Head down,” she commanded.

Ian obeyed, and Sarah unbuckled his gag. It was covered in drool, which pleased her. The catalog that her mom had shared with her was filled with toys that she intended to buy for him, including a stainless steel chastity cage and adult sized pacifiers. She had promised him that the sex in their relationship would be intense, and she meant to deliver on her promise.

With the gag removed, and remembering Vickie's admission that Sarah found his tongue magical, Ian leaned forward and began to suck on her toes. He tickled the sole of her foot, and then glided up to her ankle. Sarah was mewing with pleasure, and by the time that he reached the inside of her thigh, she was laying back on her elbows, eyes closed, moaning, encouraging him to suck and lick, drawing him closer and closer to her clit.

Ian finally climbed to his feet, and leaned forward to tickle the tip of a hardened nipple with his tongue, licking it, teasing it with his teeth. Sarah's moans grew louder, her breath coming in increasingly rapid pants, as Ian took her engorged breast into his mouth and began to suckle like a baby. He fantasized about Sarah lactating, squirting her warm milk into his mouth, draining first one breast and then the other. His cock was straining to get hard inside his diaper, but Sarah had left him no space, and the fabric was too thick to yield to his attempts to push it aside.

Frustrated, Ian dropped once more to his knees, and swooped down with his tongue, caressing her clit while, in pass after pass, he lapped up the juices that were flowing out of her vagina. Reveling in the salty taste, inhaling her scent, he entered her with his tongue and began to explore, knowing that he was driving her wild, searching for the sensitive spots that would take her over the peak. In ecstasy, Sarah reached out to grip his head, holding it rigid, urging him on.

“That's it,” she kept repeating; “oh God, that's it!”

Ian tickled the wall of her vagina with the tip of his tongue, teasing her, her need becoming more urgent with each passing second.

Sarah exploded, wrapping her knees hard around his head as she came and came, wave after wave of raw pleasure sweeping her away, Ian drowning in the essence of her.

In the end, relaxed and happy, Sarah slipped under the covers and pulled Ian into her arms. She cradled him to her breast, which he once more took into his mouth. Lying together, a tangle of limbs, she ran her fingers lightly through his hair, proclaiming her love for him over and over again as they gradually sank into a deep sleep.

. . . .

When she woke up in the morning, Vicki instantly realized that her diaper was soaked. For the second night in a row, she had wet in her sleep, and without any awareness of what was happening. She had vivid memories of finally waking up dry in the morning at age seven, though her mother insisted that she continue to wear diapers and baby pants at night for the next two years. Vickie had not had a wet night for more than twenty five years, and now she had had two in a row.

In the predawn hours, her brain still foggy, she wondered if all the dry nights seared into her memory had been nothing more than a dream. She had been a bedwetter in childhood, and she was still a bedwetter. Mommy Sarah had put her in diapers to keep her chaste, but once Mommy discovered that she was a bedwetter, she would be wearing them for their intended purpose. Mommy would never tolerate a wet bed.

Vickie thought that her birth mother would be absolutely delighted with this turn of events. She had never wanted her baby girl to grow up, and cutting those apron strings had been the driving force in Vickie's life. A slut in high school and university, yet excelling in the classroom … a slut in her twenties and early thirties, yet landing a prestigious job and carrying it off with flare and brilliance … for years, she had rubbed her mother's nose in it.

And now she had a new mommy-- a very, very strict and demanding one.

While making coffee, Vickie spooned a bit of the chocolate shake that she had forgotten the night before. She would do her makeup and her hair, but she couldn't take a shower until she got to work and Sarah freed her from the hated diaper cover. She would take a garment bag with extra clothes, just in case her diaper leaked en route. The ward's staff bathroom was fully equipped, and her first group wasn't until nine. She could take her time.

And she could put the wand that lay on the top shelf of her locker to very good use.

[Guilend]

29 minutes ago, Babypants said:

finally liberating her taste buds from the breast milk that Sarah

I'm sure she'll learn to enjoy it. If mommy stimulates her during breastfeeding she might even start getting aroused just thinking about it.

 

31 minutes ago, Babypants said:

Sarah's permission

Permission to even cum, not just to have sex.

 

32 minutes ago, Babypants said:

Mom comes to visit

That will be interesting, especially with her interactions with Vickie. 

 

33 minutes ago, Babypants said:

she could put the wand that lay on the top shelf of her locker to very good use.

Not a good idea, especially if Sarah suspects something from how she's acting or notices how aroused she is. I'm kind of hoping that she'll have a messy accident before she gets there or that Sarah orders her to squat in just her shirt and diaper and try to go poopy for mommy before her diaper change so to make sure all her poopies go in her diaper.

Oh and you're killing me here, now I have to wait till I'm old to read the next chapter (don't ask around, they'll try to tell you I'm already old)

[Babypants]

10 hours ago, Guilend said:

Oh and you're killing me here, now I have to wait till I'm old to read the next chapter (don't ask around, they'll try to tell you I'm already old)

One of the reasons I call these "scenes" rather than "chapters" is that scenes call to mind the weekly interval between TV episodes.  I've tried to time this so that 40 comes out just before Xmas, and 41 just before New Year.  It does mark the end of Season One. 

I will need to take some time off to get back to writing BBQ restaurant reviews for one of the major online travel websites, which I do, by the way, pro bono.  When school is in session, i travel a lot.  Cue joints recently reviewed in OK include Dinks up in Bartlesville, and Wild Horse in Sallisaw.  To date, I have formally reviewed 397 BBQ food trucks and restaurants nationwide.  And yes, I have left the odd wet spot on a chair hither and yon along the BBQ trail!  

[Guilend]

26 minutes ago, Babypants said:

One of the reasons I call these "scenes" rather than "chapters" is that scenes call to mind the weekly interval between TV episodes.  I've tried to time this so that 40 comes out just before Xmas, and 41 just before New Year.  It does mark the end of Season One. 

I will need to take some time off to get back to writing BBQ restaurant reviews for one of the major online travel websites, which I do, by the way, pro bono.  When school is in session, i travel a lot.  Cue joints recently reviewed in OK include Dinks up in Bartlesville, and Wild Horse in Sallisaw.  To date, I have formally reviewed 397 BBQ food trucks and restaurants nationwide.  And yes, I have left the odd wet spot on a chair hither and yon along the BBQ trail!  

Lol I live in Oklahoma, and about 2 hour drive from Sallisaw. I think I've been through there once or twice but I don't remember. I was just teasing about waiting. You're pretty consistent and I appreciate that.

[CDfm]

Very explicit chapter for sure. It held my attention! 

I would almost like to take a look at that contract to see what loopholes Ian was referring too. 
It goes without saying that I am glad I wasn’t in Ian’s shoes when Sarah broke out that paddle. I don’t think I would have had enough in me to be able to preform like Ian did following the beating he took just prior. It would be kind of interesting though.  I wonder if the pain would be enough to keep him from reaching a climax a little longer based on his inability to fully concentrate on the sexual act. I will say that I will take his word for it though so I wouldn’t have to experience the pain to test it. 
I am looking forward to seeing more. 

[Babypants]

21 hours ago, CDfm said:

I don’t think I would have had enough in me to be able to preform like Ian did following the beating he took just prior. It would be kind of interesting though.  I wonder if the pain would be enough to keep him from reaching a climax a little longer based on his inability to fully concentrate on the sexual act.

In this instance, Ian was pleasuring Sarah orally, without expecting or receiving anything in return.  This is not so much orgasm denial on Sarah's part as it is orgasm management.  In part, Sarah is following her mother's counsel, but perhaps she is discovering that she likes playing the Dominatrix.  In any event, she is determined to rule this household with an iron fist, as Ian and Vickie are now discovering.  It remains to be seen where Rita will fit into Sarah's scheme.

[littlebopeeper]

VERY steamy scene!  Sarah has lots of kinky fantasies, gets turned on by spanking and then paddling Ian's rear end, then Ian uses his tongue to send her over the moon.  Wow!  Getting smashed on Thursday night will surely earn Ian a repeat performance, but how will Sarah punish Vickie?  A paddling for sure, but what else?

[littlebopeeper]

On 12/14/2023 at 11:04 AM, Guilend said:

On 12/14/2023 at 10:29 AM, Babypants said:

Mom comes to visit

That will be interesting, especially with her interactions with Vickie. 

 

I had the same thought.  If Vickie and Ian get wasted on Thursday night, both will need to be punished big time.  Could this possibly be the weekend Sarah's mom comes to pay a visit?  She's a scary lady.