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MORE SISSY QUICKIES by Throne I had gotten myself dressed in the items my wife Clair laid out for me on my bed. Our arrangement was that I slept in my own bedroom, which she called The Sissy Sanctuary. It was smaller than her room, of course. And she had gotten it painted pink and white. The furniture matched that color scheme, as did the lace-trimmed curtains. There were all sorts of girly items on the dresser, including a stuffed unicorn with a rainbow tail, a Kenny doll dressed in Barbette's clothes, and photo of me in a body stocking and beret, in a plastic frame of joined hearts in red, pink and white. If that last decoration wasn't enough to remind me of the sissy status I been in for the past year, there were mirrors everywhere. Mirrors, mirrors, mirrors, mirrors, mirrors. Going to the long vertical one on the wall, I gave myself a quick check. There was a short-haired blue wig on my head, cut in a manga princess style. Around my neck was a thin cord with lots of small plastic charms strung on it. Then came a bright yellow tube top that showed off my lack of breasts. After an expanse of bare and hairless skin was a pair of bikini panties. Guess what color they were. Maybe... pink? And finally, on my feet, were yellow booties with two inch heels, chosen to match that loud top. I sighed and shook my head. If I could only get through an entire week without any infractions, Clair had promised, she would allow me to live as a man for an equal length of time. I thought about my chance for freedom as I applied touches of eye makeups, blush, and lipstick. Nothing too extreme. Almost as an afterthought, I powdered my underarms and the hollow of my neck. There. That should keep her happy. Today was the end of my test period and the last thing I wanted to do was make some mistake and lose my chance at wearing boxers, a men's T-shirt, and the rest of the wardrobe I'd had to surrender. In the year since she had started me on the road to feminization, I had only worn male attire a handful of times. Sometimes I wondered if she allowed those occasions less as a reward, and more as a painful reminder of all I had lost. Satisfied with my look, I hurried to the den where she would be waiting. When I got there she was watching the news on TV. My wife had judged that to be too taxing for my simple girly mind, so I wasn't permitted to view it. She turned it off and stood up to examine me. As Clair stepped close to check my hair and makeup, the muscles across my upper back tensed. Please, I pleaded silently, don't let her find anything wrong. She peered at my tube top, peeked around behind to see if my panties were properly smoothed, and had me take a few steps so she could be sure I was walking correctly in those shoes. "Very good," she conceded. "Looks like I might be seeing you in trousers for a whole week. And be calling you Stephen instead of Satin. Plus, I've decided that, if you're going to be a man, I'll have to reinstate your husbandly privileges." She ran a fingertip down my breastbone. "Including your bedroom rights." My penis twitched at hearing those words. It had been so long. In a voice choked with emotion, I said, "Thank you, dear." "My pleasure. Although I'm rather spoiled by that other form of pleasure, with your tongue all busy between my legs. But it appears that a change is about to come." As urgent as my need was, after not having been permitted to finish for weeks, I could only nod. She stroked my upper arm. Clair went on, "And you smell nice. That new powder suits you. If you were going to stay all cute and feminine, it could be your signature scent. Would you like that?" "I can't... I'd rather not... I mean, I'd like to be allowed to be a man again. Please." "All right, silly. But I'll miss that flowery smell. Did you use it all over?" "No," I admitted, feeling more relaxed, with my liberation from lingerie so close. "Just under my arms and here." I pointed to the spot under my chin. "That seemed like enough." Her expression turned cloudy. "But when I gave you that new powder -- as a personal gift -- did I tell you to use it so sparingly?" It took a moment's thought but then I remembered. "Oh, right. You said to use it on my bottom, too." "And...?" I gave her a small smile, to convey how unimportant these details seemed. "Below my bellybutton. On my... um... privates." "That's right. So I guess I'll have to do it for you, Satin." Her tone was darkly serious. "Now scamper into the your Sissy Sanctuary and fetch that powder. The powder I bought for you. As a gift. A personal gift." Hurrying off to get it, I saw my release date receding into the future. I rushed back and held it out to her. Maybe she would reconsider. It hadn't been that bad of an offense. Had it? Yet she saw it as a personal affront. I had visions of myself being stuck in womenswear for a long time without even an occasional Boy Day. Clair took the powder and opened it. She held it under my nose and I dutifully sniffed. "Didn't you like it?" she wanted to know. "Do I have poor taste in fragrances?" "I... no. It's not that. I just... I was only thinking..." "Or maybe you weren't thinking. Perhaps, because I was getting ready to take the padlock off your old closet and allow you to feel some rougher fabrics against your skin, you stopped thinking my feelings mattered." "No. You don't understand." "Oh, so it's me who is so callous and uncaring." "That's not what I said," I insisted, perhaps a few decibels too loudly. She silenced me with a glowering look. Then my wife told me to get the panties down around my ankles. And to pull up the tube top. I stood there, more naked than clothed, feeling helpless and vulnerable. Clair set aside the lid to the box and patted the powderpuff on the contents. She took it and lightly touched the center of my chest, where the top had previously been covering me, several times. Then she got more powder on it and began brushing it across my nipples. She knows how sensitive I am there. In seconds my neglected cock was standing up. It still looked odd to me without any hair on or around it, the way it had been for months. My breathing deepened. She continued teasing my nipples until I was gasping softly. Only then did she bend down and reached between my slightly parted legs to touch the soft applicator to the underside of my scrotum, making me twitch. I couldn't contain a whimper of need. "Please don't fidget and make noise," she advised. "I'm thinking of ignoring your stupidity with the powder if you can show some restraint now." I started to give her my assurance but the puff suddenly slid up the bottom of my rigid member. I shuddered and moaned. Exactly what I shouldn't have done. She made a disapproving sound but kept stroking me with a feathery touch. It took an effort to stay still and remain silent. Mild tremors ran through my body and strangled sounds escaped my lips. At last she straightened up, scowling at me. "Fine," she said disapprovingly. "You're obviously not going to be able to behave until I let you play with your dick. Is that what you want, Satin? If I give you permission to do it, do you want to... jerk off a little?" As shameful as it would be to do that in front of her, I was beyond thinking straight. Too much abstinence, combined with the current teasing, had me thinking with my dick. I nodded. "Yes, darling. Please. I'm sorry." "You should be sorry, Little Miss Control Issues. But all right. Get your hand on it and tug it very slowly. And DON'T you dare to lose control. No squirting, Satin." I gratefully got my fingers on my member and immediately began to pump it, remembering her caution not to push myself over the edge. It felt wonderful. I was sure I could maintain my control. At least, I was until she went back to tantalizing me with powderpuff nipple play. I quivered all over and let out a series of disconnected syllables. Clair kept teasing, steadily raising my level of arousal. It was rapidly becoming too much to handle. I made sounds meant to warn her that restraint was eluding me. I closed my eyes as my sexual temperature rose into the danger zone. Standing there looking and smelling girly, all smooth and hairless, I tightened my buttocks. No, no, no. A strained sound came from my throat. I grunted. My hips bucked. At that instant I began to work my hand faster and Clair brought the powderpuff up to block any spurting that might result. Her timing was perfect. I shot my wad all over that delicate applicator. She didn't take it away as my ejaculation subsided. I even milked out the final drops. My shoulders sagged. I had failed utterly. "Just look what you did, Satin," she said reprovingly, holding the soiled puff in front of my eyes. "Look at the mess you made. This thing is ruined." "I didn't mean to," I apologized weakly. "But you did. And now it's no good anymore for what it was made to do. And you're making excuses. So maybe the best use for this soiled powderpuff -- OPEN YOUR MOUTH -- is to shut you up." As angry as she was with me, I spread my jaws without hesitating. She folded the puff over double, with the sticky side out, and stuffed it into my mouth. I tasted powder and spunk at the same time. She pushed up on my lower jaw and I closed my mouth, not daring to resist. And I sensed that I wasn't supposed to part my lips again without express permission. She told me, "Now you can just come to the den and stay where I can see you, while I watch some TV. Obviously, you imagine you can do whatever you please. Well, that's not the way it is around here. For starters, you can forget even seeing the inside of your old closet for a long, long time. And I'm going to put a TV in your room and give you a schedule of what you have to watch. Let's see if binging on THE ADVENTURES OF MUFFY or SANDY CANDY helps to keep you in a proper state of mind. I cringed and made a pathetic noise. "That's right, look and sound as pitiful as you are. You'll be doing plenty of that from now on. And one more thing. I took the liberty of buying you a chastity device on-line. You know, one of those little cages to lock your dick up in. So it becomes impossible for you to get a naughty erection. And I bought the smallest one they make. It's called The Thimble. Just think what it'll be like wearing that 24/7. Especially with me introducing prolonged teasing sessions to your schedule. Your erogenous zones are going to get a real workout every day, and your poor dick, in its pecker prison, won't be able to do anything except hurt. Poor, poor Satin. But remember that you earned it." With my own semen all over my tongue and the roof of my mouth, I could only stand there looking contrite, full of remorse for the foolish mistake I had made. Knowing what it would cost me was devastating. Wondering what other nastiness my wife would conceive of to add to my torment was frightening. She put something on the TV. A history program. "This is too complicated for you, Satin," she told me. "Close your eyes and put your fingers in your ears, and stay exactly like that until I come and tap you on the shoulder. Maybe some alone time will help you see the error of your ways. I certainly hope so. When I have to administer punishments, it hurts me more than it does you. Please remember that." I did as I was told, leaving myself in silent darkness, unable to stop tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Or smelling the powder on my chest. I tried to stop dwelling on what my future would be like but I couldn't do it. And that chastity was going to be so unforgivingly tight. ********* Daryl figured at least he would get some relief from his wife's dominant behavior. She would be gone for the entire weekend. Sure, she had him dressed in a romper with girly images -- red hearts, pink clouds with smiling faces, cartoon ponies in improbable colors, cupcakes with sparkles -- appliqued all over it. And yes, all his male clothes were under lock and key. But at least she wouldn't be there, treating him as if he was a female grade school student. He listened to Bev making a call before leaving for her fashion shopping getaway. It irked him that she would be spending all kinds of money to expand her already burgeoning wardrobe. It bothered him even more that she had promised to buy something for him. "They won't have age appropriate things for you, Darla," she had said. "Just grown up clothes. But I'll find you a pretty scarf or something. I know how you love to play dress-up." He didn't love it or even like it. But she had him firmly under her thumb and wouldn't let up. So this weekend was like a bit of paradise for him. Soon one of her girlfriends who was also going would be by to pick her up. He just wanted to stay out of her way until she departed. But that was not to be. Bev appeared, looking impatient. She was stressed from her preparations and tight schedule. Daryl knew she was likely to take it out on him. Sure enough, she had grabbed a few cosmetics and was wearing a sadistic grin. "Come here, Darla darling," she requested with barely restrained malice. "Mommy wants to make you look extra cute." All right, he told himself. There would have to be one final indignity until he had the house to himself. And the TV. No more of her strict rules about what he could view. He went to her and she gave him a nasty grin. Working quickly, she went over his eyes, cheeks and mouth. When she was done, Bev surveyed her work and laughed. She took him by the shoulders, turned him around, and propelled him to the mirror in the foyer. He recoiled at the sight of his face. There were long drawn-on lashes around his eyes, splotches of rouge on his cheeks, and a smear of bright red lipstick that went beyond the natural outline of his mouth. He resembled a little girl who had gotten into her mother's makeup kit. "Perfect," Bev congratulated herself. "All ready for your visitor." "Wha... what?" he said incredulously. "You didn't think I'd leave an irresponsible girl like you here alone, did you? Of course not. That wouldn't be very responsible of me, now would it?" She consulted her watch. "And she should be here any minute." "She? Any minute?" "What are you? A myna bird? Repeating everything I say?" Before he could recover, they heard someone outside. Their bell rang and Bev cheerily opened the door. There stood a tall heavy woman, her dark face split by a grin. "You must be Kendra," Bev greeted her. "Welcome to my home." As the Black female entered, Daryl was immediately intimidated. She had very short hair, worn natural, a round face, and quite full lips. More attention getting were a massive thrusting bosom and wide hips. Though she was overweight, those exaggerated curves were somehow enticing to the husband. Considering that he had been denied sexual release for weeks, his reaction shouldn't have surprised him. Kendra gave him a close looking at before she said, "So this is who I'm going to be babysitting. Isn't she sweet? I'll take real good care of her for you, Ma'am." "I know you will. And please call be Bev." "Can do." She reached down to pick up a big suitcase and a large zippered bag that sat on the porch, to either side of her, and entered carrying them. Daryl noted how effortlessly she handled those items. She gave off the impression of being very strong. As she passed the short man she glanced down and gave him a wink. In spite of himself he trembled. Bev was about to close the door when her ride arrived. She had her own bags right there, ready to go. Daryl had put them in that convenient location earlier. He recalled what a struggle it had been to lift and carry them. As his wife reached for the luggage, Kendra stepped in. "Let me get those for you, Bev. A girl needs her exercise." She chuckled as he lifted them like they weighed almost nothing. Yes, Daryl told himself, she was as strong as he had feared. The big woman strode out to the waiting car. As the trunk was remotely popped open, she easily hefted the heavy bags and put them inside. Daryl's wife gave him a sneering smile. "Looks like my girl is going to have an eventful weekend. Can't wait to see how you're doing when I get back." Kendra was already returning. She said to Bev, "This works out real well. My apartment building is getting the wrecking ball. I'm in the middle of finding a friend to stay with until I get a new place. It all happened kind of sudden. So a weekend here is real good for me." "I'm glad, Kendra. And I left some instructions for you in the kitchen, on the fridge. And remember what I said. Anything you have to do to Darla is fine by me." The Black woman eyed Daryl, who was standing away from the open door rather than risking being seen by a passerby. She said, "I'm sure your little creampuff there won't be any problem at all. I've had some experience with ones like him." "Okay. And like I said when we talked, I'm all in favor of what you're going to do to him. Me having him live like a silly girl just hasn't been enough. So treating him like he's even younger might do the trick." "The way I do it, he's going to get exactly what he needs. Or maybe I should say, she's going to get it. Oh yeah, she's going to get it." She gave Bev another smile. "But you get going, honey. And have a marvelous time." Moments later Daryl's spouse was gone and he had a disarming sense of abandonment. Perhaps if he reasoned with this Kendra person he could make her see sense. "Listen, Miss," he began. She turned a fierce scowl on him. "No, you listen, little white creampuff. I'm in charge now. You get out of line and I might hurt you, accidental-on-purpose. The one thing you did get right was calling me 'Miss'. About all I want to hear from you is 'Yes, Miss' and 'No, Miss'. And be careful with 'No'. Too much of that could get you in trouble. Plus, remember to give me your best little girl voice. Like real little." She held up the zipper bag and pointed to it. "I mean diaper wearing little. Understood?" Then she put it back down. Did this scary woman intend to put him into diapers? That was unthinkable. Yet he knew she was capable of it, even if he resisted. And her confidently made threats were fresh in his mind. Rather than risk an ugly confrontation, which he was uncomfortably sure he would come out on the bad side of, he nodded. Then he remembered what she had just said and told her, "Yes, Miss." To be safe he added, "Thank you, Miss." "There you go," she approved. "Quick learner. Keep it like that and we'll get along fine. Now let's go check those instructions. Wouldn't want to do a bad job for your lovely wife." As she turned away he was rattled by the sheer size of her backside. It was double wide and protruded extremely far. The dress she wore was molded to her oversized contours. He swallowed drily and ran his fingers over one of the patches sewn to his romper. Following Kendra, he was mesmerized by the roll of her firm round bottom. In the kitchen she spotted the note held to the fridge door by a magnet. Taking the slip of paper, she held it up and considered it. Her broad face was taken over by a crooked smile. "First off," she said, "I got to feed you. Just don't move while I fetch my diaper bag." There was that word again. The 'D' word. He didn't want to hear it. He wanted to flee. But how could he, dressed the way he was, his face made up, with no wallet or keys? With no access to any masculine clothing. And with Kendra overseeing him. He stood right where he was, taking her use of 'don't move' literally. She came back with the copious bag and set it on the kitchen table. Unzipping the top, she took out a bib. It looked like it was meant for a little girl, with an image of dancing animals on its waterproof front, but was sized for an adult. Going to Daryl, she tied it around his neck. The way she fussed over the knot, he had a bad feeling he wouldn't be able to remove it without her help. Then she retrieved several boxes and jars of baby food products, which she lined up on the counter. Finding cooking necessities easily and working with efficient economy of effort, she soon had a big pot of water heating. Kendra poured in several boxes of what he guessed was some kind of cereal. It struck Daryl as too much if she was feeding just him, but he didn't say a word. She checked through the cabinets and found other ingredients to add. While it was cooking, she came and led him to a chair, sat him down, and even pushed it in. He was so close that the table's edge pressed against him. He couldn't avoid feeling like a youngster in a highchair. Sitting there in his romper and bib, he watched her fill a big bowl. It was the size you might use for mashed potatoes if you were feeding a family of eight. He assumed she was going to transfer his serving into a smaller bowl and save the rest. Instead she set the oversized one in front of him, along with a serving spoon. Kendra pulled up another chair and sat down next to him. She picked up the large spoon and scooped up what he now saw was some sort of mush, with prunes showing here and there in it. As it was brought near to his mouth he sealed his lips. "Aw, Darla honey, don't be like this. Miss Kendra has to feed you your yummy dinner. And I want you to eat every last bite." "It's... too much." "It's not. And mind your speaking voice. And call me the way I told you." "Yes, Miss." He swallowed drily. "Maybe you misread my wife's note. I mean, about how much to feed me." "Nonsense. I know just the right amount for my little girl." "I... it's only..." He surrendered. "Yes, Miss Kendra. Thank you, Miss Kendra." "Open up," she told him, merry again. Daryl opened wide and the spoon went in. He closed his lips and, as she withdrew it, all the mush stayed in his mouth. He got the tasteless gruel down. Another spoonful followed immediately. This one at least had a prune in it for sweetness. As more and more of the unappetizing meal followed, his stomach began to feel bloated. He tried not to make gagging sounds but couldn't help it. She simply smiled, made cooing sounds, and didn't stop or even slow down. Bits of the food got on his bib but she just gathered them with the edge of the spoon and added them to the next mouthful. At the same time, he couldn't stop stealing looks at her huge but shapely bust. He was getting queasy from overeating and she was only halfway through serving him. By the end of the overly generous portion he felt ready to burst, but couldn't stop obsessing over her boobs. Then she went and got several of the small jars of baby food. They were all strained vegetables. He saw peas and carrots and spinach, none of which he was fond of. Daryl wasn't a fan of garden products. Using a smaller spoon, because of the size of the jars, she fed him rapidly, never letting him quite get one spoonful down before the next arrived. On top of everything he had already been made to eat, this added fill-up was unwelcome. She used the bib to wipe his lips and chin. Then she saw something at the corner of his mouth, made him stick out his tongue, wetted her fingertip on it, and used the moistened digit to eliminate whatever had been at the edge of his lips. Kendra pulled back his chair and helped him stand. His stomach was much too full. She grabbed her seemingly bottomless bag. The big woman took his hand and walked him, as if he couldn't be trusted to do it unaided. They wound up in the living room, where she took a half-size blanket from the bag and spread it on the floor. As she bent forward to do that he got a close-up view of her broad posterior. Just it's sheer size was impressive, exaggerating her femaleness. He felt unaccountably swoony. His penis tingled. Sitting by the blanket she patted it and said, "Down-a-daisy, Darla baby." Knowing what was coming, dreading it, but by then too defeated to fight back or protest, he got on the blanket on his back. Kendra quickly and efficiently stripped him out of the romper. His wife had him in cotton panties underneath. Chuckling at that, Kendra worked them down his hairless legs and put them out of the way. He lay there, naked, looking up at the overwhelming and in some way exciting Black woman. She took a pre-moistened wipe to remove his makeup. When she used another to clean his penis, he immediately got erect. Instead of being upset, she laughed heartily. "Now look at that," she said, flicking his stiff member with her finger. "Isn't it cute? What you got there, girly?" He was shamed and flustered. His inability to respond amused her. Further finger flicking followed. Daryl felt his need increasing. Instead of reacting to his obvious wants, she used lotion on him down there, doing it detachedly, rather than with erotic intent. All too soon she was obtaining a cloth diaper the right size for him, leaving his needs unmet. Kendra rolled him onto one side and then the other as she got the square of cotton under him. She stopped to put petroleum jelly on one finger and get her hand under his bottom. What was she doing? He grunted as the questing finger found his tightness, probed at it, and penetrated. Daryl squirmed as she rotated and pumped the finger. The sensations it produced were weirdly stimulating. It went on for several minutes before she stopped. Then, as if nothing unusual had just occurred, she powdered him and pinned his diaper at the sides. Next came a pair of pink rubber pants that she made sure were all the way up. Kendra finished with a few light pats to his crotch, which further elevated his excitement and left him more frustrated and confused that ever. The whole process had been endlessly humiliating. "There you go," she announced. "Jellied your bum and got you diapered. We can check those two off your wife's list." Again Daryl felt she was misreading Bev's instructions, perhaps intentionally. He lay there trying to feel like himself, instead of a vulnerable and controlled, feminine plaything in some bizarre game. She had him sit up. To his surprise, Kendra got her arms around him and stood, lifting his full weight as she rose. He was cradled in her capable arms as she stepped over to the sofa and held him against her bosum. "I'll heat up your bottles real soon," she assured him, "but right now I want to see something on TV. So you just let Miss Kendra give you a pacifier to suck on." Instead of reaching for the bag to find a plastic dummy, she unbuttoned the front of her dress, opened a nursing bra, and popped free one heavy breast. Adjusting her position and shifting him around slightly, she got the thick nipple directly against his lips. Sexual energy coursed through Daryl's penis. Despite that stomach-stretching meal, he was becoming aroused again. His lips parted and, without consciously meaning to, he was nursing at her bosom. She wasn't lactating but all he knew was that it was strangely comforting -- and seductive -- to be working his lips on that fat nubbin. His eyelids fluttered as she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. For the next two hours he barely moved, curiously content to keep dry-nursing, occasionally being switched from one teat to the other. Eventually she moved him off her lap and shushed him. "Stay still until I heat you something real to drink." She was back before long with a towel wrapped around -- oh no -- four large bottles. He had the same sinking he'd undergone when he saw how much she expected him to eat. Kendra got a rubber nipple in his mouth and coaxed him to start drinking. He did, tasting something sweet and milky. Daryl soon felt his stomach being overfilled again, before the previous feeding was gone. By the time all four containers were drained, he felt like if he tried to walk, he would waddle. "All right," she said soothingly. "One more instruction on your wife's list. Make sure you get a good night's sleep. I've got a special way of doing that. Let's head to the bedroom." He was almost surprised when she didn't carry him. All she did was to remove his bib and set it aside. He toddled along beside her, again with Kendra holding his hand. She picked up her suitcase on the way. It was the guest bedroom and she took a few moments to admire it and remark on how much natural light it would get during the day. "A far sight nicer than that place I had to leave," she offered. Opening her suitcase on the bed she took out what looked like a girl's nightgown, except that there were ties at the bottom. She put it over Daryl's head and shimmied it down his body. There was elastic around the neck and she had to pull that over his head. He was unhappy to find that there were no sleeves. She got him to lie back on the bed, whereupon she pulled together the ties at the bottom, drawing the end of the garment together, and then knotted them. He was in a cotton bag with no way to reach the cords that kept him there. Even if he found a way, he suspected that the knots would defeat him. Kendra began to undress. As her outerwear came off he was mesmerized by her size and grace. All that milk chocolate skin. Those stupendous curves left him shuddering with desire. Once her nursing bra and her panties were removed, the effect was doubled. She stood there naked, facing him, with her hands on her wide hips. There was a triangle of tight black hair between her well upholstered thighs. He thought he could spy a hint of pink labia. "Now little Darla, what are you gawking at? Don't be a bad girl or Miss Kendra will have to pinch your cheeks hard until they're all red and sore. You wouldn't want that, now would you, my cute white flower?" "N... no, Miss Kendra," he squeak-whispered. He was oddly proud of himself for remembering the right way to speak to her. She rewarded him with a full-lipped smile. "I like to sleep in the altogether. But that won't bother a diapered sugar lump like you. Right?" Kendra was a vision of inviting yet unavailable sexuality. Daryl writhed inside his sleep sack. His stomach was beginning to protest more insistently from the heavy dinner and excess of fluids. His rising sexual cravings and roiling indigestion fought for dominance in his mind. She got into bed from the other side and backed up toward him. "You just snuggle up against your Miss Kendra now, Darla. Come on. Don't be shy." She made a seductive purring sound. Daryl wriggled as best he could, eager to get close to her. He was able to put himself directly against her. She even helped by backing up another inch. Her monumental rump was pressed against his midsection. Unfortunately for him, with the diaper on he couldn't fully appreciate it. Even so, the intimate nearness got into his head. Simultaneously, her forced feeding continued to distress his tummy. He lay there moaning quietly from a conflict of the two forces. Eventually he drifted into sleep. During the night he awoke several times, either from lust or stomach troubles. An hour before dawn his worst fear was realized. He opened his eyes and shifted around, which was when he felt wetness between his legs. The helpless husband's bladder had released itself. He lay there knowing that something even more awful was going to happen soon in the rear of his soggy diaper. He listened to Kendra's steady breathing and guessed accurately that she wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. The end result was that when she did rise, it was to find that he had also soiled himself. She wrapped herself in a short robe and went to work. She made a lot of fuss about it, taking a long time to get him changed. Before she put on a fresh diaper she thoroughly lotioned and powdered him where needed. He got stiff again and she toyed with his rigid penis. After he was fully diapered she got him set up for breakfast. Although she didn't overload him with food -- well, not too much -- what she fed him was suspicious. It was a couple hard boiled eggs and a large serving of hummus with garlicy crackers. The result, as he learned throughout the day, was that he had gas and lots of it. Kendra used that as an excuse to repeatedly check his diaper. There was never anything to find, but each time she had it opened she 'touched up' his lotion and powder, getting him excited yet again. Later, because he wasn't passing anything, she declared that he needed an enema. She didn't make it easier for him by choosing a quick disposable one. Instead she produced, from her spacious diaper carrier, a hanging bag, long tube, and fat nozzle, along with some lubricant to aid insertion. She even had some concentrated soap that she mixed with water that was hotter than he would have preferred. He had to assume a demeaning position on a pad on the bathroom floor, endure the introduction of that bigger-then-necessary nozzle into his body, and suffer the shame of being given an enema by a doting clucking woman who treated him like a child. The rest of the time she kept him occupied with snacks, games that always included him getting visually teased by her body, and finding himself on her lap, which was physically tantalizing. After dinner she watched TV while he kept his mouth on her nipples, which was even a more intense experience than before. By the final day he was fighting to feel normal, and failing the attempt. Kendra continued to baby him, literally, and made sure to have her back to him often, knowing by then that he was becoming obsessed with her overgrown booty. When Bev returned home, looking and acting refreshed, he was relieved. Once his unwanted babysitter was gone, Daryl had convinced himself, he could regain his psychological equilibrium. Kendra put him on the floor on a blanket. He sat there wishing he could get out of his mortifying diaper. The Black babysitter gave him a toy dog and popped an oversized pacifier into his mouth. The two women sat and chatted, with Bev asking all sorts of questions and Kendra happily revealing all sorts of embarrassing facts. Just as Daryl thought it was winding down and he would soon be free of Kendra, the Black woman said, "I'm going to miss your Darla. But I really have to leave now, and figure out where I'm going to live temporarily." "I have a proposition for you, Kendra. Would you like to move into that spare bedroom you've been using? And stay on as Darla's full time nanny? I'd pay you a good wage, you'd have access to the rest of the house, and I think it would be perfect for my yummy little girl. How about it?" Daryl couldn't believe what he had just heard. It wasn't possible. He had a sensation like the walls were closing in on him. When he looked at Kendra she was giving him a leering smile. "Well, Bev," the striking Black woman said, "that would be fine with me. And I know that with enough time, I could do Darla a world of good." She locked eyes with the hapless husband. "Don't you think so, my delicious vanilla drop?" As his reality fell to pieces in slow motion, Daryl said in his high frivolous voice, "Oh yes, Miss Kendra. That would be just... peachy." But his mind kept replaying those words, 'full time nanny' and 'with enough time'. He was even able to maintain a smile, though he started sniffling and was afraid he might break down and begin to blubber. ********* (For anyone who wants to read more of my short pieces like these, or man- treated-as-baby stories, there are some of both in my past posts. You can find them by checking the titles and/or the synopses. ENJOY.)