Reflections of a Superior Woman
My husband, Bobby, is standing with his nose in the corner, quietly sobbing, as he contemplates the ill-advised temper tantrum that he threw this afternoon. His sobbing is due to a very sore bottom, for which I take credit for—although to be fair, my favorite wooden paddle should also take some of the credit too.
I’m not sure what it was that finally sent Bobby over the edge today. It could be the fact that I arbitrarily extended his sentence of chastity for another month, or it could be that he was upset about the date I was going on this evening. However, the result was the same. I pulled his diapers down and put him over my lap as I would any misbehaving child, and paddled his bottom until he was bawling like the big crybaby everyone knows he is.
I say everybody, because Bobby’s unique situation is well known to all our friends, as well as my mother. It is especially well known to his babysitter, Jordan, a girl just out of high school that is five years junior to him. That’s right, Bobby has a babysitter. Why would a 23 year old man require a babysitter, you ask? Because I don’t always have the time or inclination to change his wet diapers or put him to bed in his nursery, so I hired Jordan to help out on occasions like today.
But I’m getting way ahead of myself.
It all started three years ago when I met Bob. I can’t say that he impressed me, either with his looks, or his physique, which I thought were rather pathetic, actually. I more or less tolerated him, since we worked together and he pestered me continually about dating him. Finally one day, I relented and we went out on a first date.
He was quick to brag about how much money he had inherited and sure enough, he proved to be a big spender in the time we were together. Now, a girl needs security, and even though I, as a lingerie model, was being bombarded with propositions from plenty of hunky men, none had the financial backing that Bob did.
Still, my girlfriends told me to dump the wimp (who they thought was nothing but a big sissy) and get one of the hot studs that were beating a path to my doorway every day. I was getting plenty of notice doing my modeling and if that were not enough, the skimpy outfits I liked wearing certainly got me more than just looks. I was also enjoying dating several men at once, sleeping with those that I thought were the sexiest and best looking.
It goes without saying that Bob didn’t fall into that particular category, but on the other hand, I didn’t mind getting a steady stream of gifts including jewelry, clothes and eventually a new car, so for the time being, I decided to keep stringing him on for a while.
This had the effect of giving him the impression that I had a serious interest in him, and before long, he went so far as to ask me to marry him.
While most women in my position would have probably laughed in his face, I actually gave it some careful consideration and then came back with my own counter proposal. I would agree to marry him only if he was willing to abide by all my decisions. In effect, I would be the head of the house as well as our marriage. He would be subject to my will (since he had none of his own) and he would do my bidding, regardless of the circumstances. I wanted him to be absolutely clear on what I meant and expected.
Of course, he readily agreed to these conditions but I don’t think even he knew quite what was in store for him.
Up to that point, I had forbidden him any kind of sexual contact between us, beyond a peck on the cheek, which had the effect of making him very eager to consummate our wedding. However, on our wedding night, I told him I had other ideas in mind about our first night of sex and he nearly fainted when I introduced him to my fat, eight inch strap-on dildo. If we were going to have sex, it was going to be on my terms I informed him. So despite his frantic protests, I humped his virgin ass for an hour that night as he cried into his pillow.
However, as the days went by, I still couldn’t bring myself to letting him enter me in the conventional manner—he just didn’t appeal to me in that way. He, on the other hand, could think of nothing else, and he was getting horny as hell, continually begging me to give him some kind of relief.
One day, I came home from work early, only to discover him masturbating to some pictures of busty women on our computer. While I am quite well naturally endowed in that area, I didn’t believe for one second, his story about trying to say that he was fantasizing about me while doing his dirty deed.
My reaction was swift and immediate. Bob is both physically smaller and psychologically inferior to me, so I had little difficulty in forcing him to do whatever I wanted.
I yanked him over my lap and proceeded to blister his butt with my hairbrush, scolding him like I were his own mother.
It was then, while he lay over my lap sobbing like a baby, that I had my epiphany. What Bob needed was not so much a wife—what he needed was a mother, and one that was not afraid to be both strict and harsh when necessary. His immature behavior required constant discipline and I decided then and there to be his new mommy.
I realized that the first thing I needed was a decent paddle. As he was drying his eyes, I told him to get dressed because we had some shopping to do. I took him down to my favorite fetish store and with the help of a very pretty salesgirl, we picked out a stout wooden paddle that would serve my needs (and Bob’s bottom) quite nicely. As I looked him straight in the eye and slapped the hard oak paddle against my palm, I informed him that I wouldn’t hesitate to use it if I ever caught him masturbating or misbehaving again. You should have seen the look on his face! And you can bet that as he was blushing furiously, the salesgirl was laughing her ass off!
Later, when I got home, I did some work on the computer myself, searching the net for a foolproof chastity device to prevent Bob from playing with himself again. I decided then and there that Bob wasn’t ready for the privilege of cumming so it was time for me to control that part of his life as well.
I found what I wanted online after hours of careful research. The CB-6000S seemed to be the perfect combination of practicality and security. I ordered one and gladly paid the next day shipping charge.
Two days later, it arrived, and I ordered Bob into the bedroom while I brought in a basin of ice water with a washcloth in it. He was very curious and a little bit concerned about what I had in mind but I merely informed him to do as he was told without giving him any details. Meek as always, he bowed to my superior will and followed me into the room. I had him strip down and then told him to sit on the edge of the bed. Knowing how small his penis is, I was concerned that the CB-6000S would be too big for him, allowing him to escape for some unauthorized masturbation. I removed nearly all the spacers and got the contraption assembled as he watched with interest, thinking foolishly it might be something he’d enjoy. If only he had known!
As a matter of fact, when I began fitting his tiny cock and balls into the device, he naturally began to get excited and I found it was necessary to chill his genitals with the ice cold washcloth. That put a hold on his ardor, at least, long enough to get him fitted into the restrictive chastity restrainer. He whimpered like a little baby when it became obvious what the device was used for and he begged me profusely not to subject him to such measures.
However, I was firm in my resolve and in no time I had his tiny little package locked away securely with a titanium lock where it couldn’t get into any more trouble. I pocketed the key and made a mental note to take it to work with me the following day to keep it forever out of his grasp.
Thus, cut off from his masturbatory misadventures, Bob was completely controlled and subject to my whims. Initially, I decided on a once every two weeks release for him, subject to the satisfactory completion of a long list of chores I made for him every Sunday. This drove him mad initially, but between the sexual deprivation, and my vigorous use of the paddle, Bob soon fell into line.
Now that we were living together, I came to realize that my friend’s initial assessment of Bob as a sissy, was dead on. This was confirmed when I allowed him to cum while wearing a pair of panties that he was swooning over one night. I could tell he was very excited by them while I was sauntering around the house, in them and little else, so I suggested he masturbate for his bi-weekly orgasm while wearing them himself. I could tell from his enthusiasm that he was enthralled by the idea although I think he regretted showing his cards so readily. After he had finished, and I had locked him back into his CB-6000S, an idea began to form in my head that would be intended to both excite and humiliate Bob. I liked the idea of keeping him constantly horny, while depriving him of any means of satisfying himself. This tended to make him even more subservient and servile than he already was. It seemed like a natural step that he should be subject to further humiliation at my hands so I decided to take things further by making him dress in panties and feminine nightwear while doing his chores. This would serve as a constant reminder to him what his role was and who the real head of the house was.
And yet, it was a good friend of mine that suggested I take it yet a step further.
One weekend afternoon, my friend Alyssa was visiting and Bob failed to show her the proper respect that I demand of him toward the superior sex. I responded immediately by pulling him over my lap and giving him a good, sound spanking right in front of her. During his tearful apology that followed, Alyssa pointed out what a baby he seemed to be and she even started talking to him as if he were an errant two year-old. I was rolling on the couch with laughter but Alyssa told me that a big baby like him should be wearing diapers, not the feminine panties I made him wear. At first, I didn’t take her seriously but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.
I curtly dismissed Bob and together, Alyssa and I formulated a plan for transforming Bob into Bobby—a sissy baby who would wear diapers and dresses from now on.
As usual, I kept my plans to myself and I spent another long night, ordering all kinds of things over the internet. At first, I ordered just the basics; cloth diapers, plastic panties, several dresses and onesies. The next day, I picked up diaper rash cream, baby powder, diaper pins, and some other items that I knew would be necessary for an overgrown toddler.
By the end of the week, I had a good starting wardrobe for Bobby, and when he came home from work, I met him at the door with the paddle in my hand. He went through a range of emotions from his initial anger, to frustration, to fear, and eventually, to resignation. Nonetheless, I felt it was prudent to start his new lifestyle with another good hard spanking, just to further cement our new relationship. So despite the fact that he was willing to meekly submit to my intentions, I still felt it would help set him down the right path, if he started it with a hot, stinging bottom.
With tears in his eyes, I pinned him into his first set of fluffy diapers, after which I made a little ceremony of cutting up all his underwear. He looked absolutely ridiculous as he stood before me, sniffling, while I pulled a pink pair of plastic panties up and over his thick, bulging diapers.
From that day forth, I made Bobby refer to me as ‘Mommy’. He didn’t like it, that’s for sure, but I told him he’d just have to get used to it. I also decided I had been far too generous with his orgasm schedule and I decided to double the time he was required to wait between them. Now, instead of once every other week, I increased it to once a month, which later got increased further to six weeks. I just didn’t feel that an immature sissy like him was entitled to such an adult pleasure. Of course, this made him even more subservient than before and our unequal relationship only became even more lopsided in my favor.
It was then that I decided it was time to start seeing other men. And by that I mean real men, not sissies like Bobby. It was absurd to think that a woman of my needs could be satisfied by someone like him and I was still being swamped with offers from good looking men. I really enjoyed flirting with them, even when Bobby was nearby, just so I could make him feel inadequate (which is exactly what he was). During the first year of our marriage, I didn’t take it any farther than that, but I soon found myself needing the strong arms of a real man around me. In addition, it had been many months since I had been sexually satisfied and I felt it was time for me to take care of that need as well.
I started dating some of the guys I was meeting and although I think Bobby was getting suspicious, I never told him any details about my evenings. I just sent him to bed early, got myself made up and put on my sexiest outfit before leaving for the night. Bobby would be sullen and sulky when I got back (usually the next morning) but I found that after I administered a nice, long enema, it usually put him right back in his place. And of course, I liked to threaten him with extensions to his period of chastity if he didn’t straighten out his attitude to my liking. On a couple of occasions, I also felt it was necessary to give him a good, hard spanking just to help clarify things again for him. By then, he was one contrite sissy!
As my time became more and more tied up with the men I was dating, I found I had less time (and inclination) to spend with Bobby, changing his diapers, disciplining him, and releasing him from his CB-6000S for his once-every-six-weeks orgasm. That’s why I hired Jordan, the perfect solution to my predicament. With Bobby’s bank account, I had plenty of money to hire this sexy heartbreaker from next door to keep an eye on things while I was gone. I wasn’t worried in the slightest that she’d make a move on him—with his big, bulging diapers and dresses, he looked absolutely ridiculous! I gave her full authority to discipline and punish Bobby whenever and however she saw fit and I was pleased to see how quickly she slipped into her new role.
Bobby would often complain to me later that, in addition to the innumerable humiliations she had subjected him to, his new babysitter had refused to grant him his one, rationed orgasm. However, my usual reaction was to simply shrug and tell him he’d have to take it up with her. Jordan had little but disdain for the overgrown baby and she was only too happy to deny him any sexual pleasure he might feel he was due.
Unfortunately, the poor sissy’s balls were getting swollen from all the accumulated semen so one day, I decided to have mercy on my hubby. Using a fat jelly dildo, I was able to ‘milk’ all his fluids from him while still depriving him of any orgasm or release. It’s the kind of job that requires patience but it’s the perfect solution for sissies who need to remain chaste as he does.
As I was saying, I found less and less reason to keep my dates a secret from Bobby. The fact was, he was in denial of his state of cuckoldry and I thought it was time he faced up to it. One afternoon, while I was changing his wet diapers (he seemed to have lost all control over his bladder during the last few months), I decided to tell him exactly what I was going to be doing that night and with who. And that brings me back to the beginning of this tale but I’ll let my husband explain what happened next…
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