When my husband told me about his fantasy, I thought thatâs all it was to it. I couldnât believe he wanted to share me⊠but Iâm so glad he did.
Read the Hot Wife Life on Amazon - Free with Kindle Unlimited
What started as a fantasy for this monogamous soccer mom becomes her wild reality.
With her husbandâs encouragement, Jamie experiences some new people in her love life. And while most husbands would be driven mad with jealousy, Jamie is driving her husband wild with passion.
Follow Jamie as she has all the experiences she never thought possible before.
Note, this sensual story is about a married woman having wild sex with others outside her marriage, but with her husbandâs permission and desire.
I would love to dress up like this and then pull up my dress and pull down my frilly silky panties and watch myself wanking and cumming over the mirror
After initial training, my first placement as a maid was with a Miss Humphrey. I was hoping that her standards would be high, because I was determined to learn my trade thoroughly, to be the best maid I could be.
I was not disappointed. She was extremely strict. Her standards were exacting, to say the least. She monitored me closely in every task she set me, whether it was making and serving her tea using a silver service, cleaning her bathroom and toilet or greeting her friends. She would score each task and reward or punish me as appropriate, at the end of the day.
Rewards might be more ribbons for my hair, or frilly knickers, or even a new lacy pinnie. Typical punishment would be a caning or birching on my bare bottom, the number of strokes varying according to how far short I had fallen from her very high expectations.
I found that her guests could be quite demanding. They wouldnât hesitate to report me to Miss Humphrey for any failure on my part to satisfy their needs, knowing that I would be severely punished.
They seemed to enjoy teasing me with little humiliations, such as making rude remarks about my appearance, lifting up the hem of my dress so that everyone could see my frilly knickers and so on. The most challenging guests were those, especially the males, who liked touching me in embarrassing and intimate ways: sliding their hands under my petticoats, stroking my thighs and fondling my bottom through my silk underwear. Sometimes they would even take hold of my cock and squeeze it through the silky fabric.
Instead of avoiding this behaviour and pushing their hands away, my impulse was to simper and blush and to encourage it. They could hardly fail to notice that it gave me a hard on, which only added to my humiliation.
After an evening where these things were going on in her living room, I might be birched by Miss Humphrey for âflirtingâ with her guests. On the other hand, if anyone complained that I hadnât been accommodating enough, I could be beaten for that, too.
All in all, I feel that Miss Humphrey provided me with an ideal first experience of life as a sissy maid. My apprenticeship with her has stood me in good stead ever since, for my vocation to a life of frilly and humiliating servitude.
Condition you to start sobbing at the slightest inconvenience or critique.
Did you drop your pen on the way to a meeting? You wail in frustration as your face scrunches up.
Did you sneeze too loud and someone looked at you funny? Now your eyes are all red and tears are pooling on your cheeks.
Forgot the laundry in the dryer? Bawling. No ketchup with your fries? Whimpering. Stepped on a crack? Inconsolable.
People started acting differently around you. Speaking to you in a soft, sing-song voice so they wouldn't upset you. Handing you things slowly and carefully with a big, stupid smile. That's it, honey, you got it.
When I started clipping the pacifier to your shirt, you thought it would be the end of your social life. Yet no one questioned it. No one stared. It made you calmer. Quieter. Easier to be around. Most of us were even grateful to see you suckling away, your constant little sobs muffled by the puff puff puff of your pretty pretty paci.
It was only natural, after all; you were the crybaby.
All you can do is cover your face in shame as the crushing weight of your new reality overwhelms you.
This is how youâll spend the rest of your life.
âAww, where did my baby go, hmm? Is hims hiding cause Momma sees hims soggy diapie? My what a silly boy I have!â
Youâll never be anything but the helpless baby she turned you into. Never experience a single moment of adulthood ever again.
And you are helplessâshe made sure of that.
âMaybe hims is so shy cause hims didnât even know his diapie was so full of tinkles! Is that it? Does that make you feel like a baby?â
She wasnât content with merely putting you in diapers and redecorating the guest room as a nursery. Not after what you did.
No, she wanted to strip you of every fiber of adulthood.
Last week, you were startled awake by five men saying something about a Littleâs Center, whatever that was. You thought it was some kind of joke.
At least until you saw the police officer. He warned you not to struggle. That you could go willingly or in handcuffsâbut you were going no matter what.
The whole time, your wife smiled at you.
When you asked why, she said, âYou didnât think I knew about Rebecca? This is what cheaters deserve, honey.â
Once you arrived at the Littleâs Center, a stern woman explained the processâthe last time anyone spoke to you as an adult.
Your eyes went wide in terror as she went down the list. Your wife bought the complete package. You were going to lose your continence, all sexual function, the majority of your motor skills, your ability to talk like an adult, your ability to read, and finally, your ability to eat anything but breastmilk and formula.
If you thought they were joking, the next few days proved you wrong as you lost more and more abilities.
âBut silly boy, you are a baby now! Mommaâs itty bitty baby boy! Yes you are! Yes you are! You couldnât be a big boy even if you tried! You belong right here in your nursery, honey.â
Youâve only been back from the Littleâs Center for two daysâtwo grueling, humiliating daysâyet it already felt like an eternity.
You thought she would be angry when you got back, wanting to chastise you for cheating on her.
Yet she never once acknowledged itâor anything about your past life. From the moment she picked you up, she was nothing but a loving, doting Momma.
She immediately immersed you in your new world of pastels, diapers, and early bedtimes. You learned how humiliating it is to be fully, utterly reliant on your wife for your sustenanceâbreastfeeding every mealâfollowed by those horrible burps once you finish.
âAll you have to do is let go, baby. Youâre gonna be my diapered prince forever and ever! Donât fight it. Be the happy baby youâre meant to be!â
As if you could fight it.
You can barely walk, barely talk, and letters might as well be written in Chinese for all you understand them.
Yet she thinks your silly, uncoordinated gait and new high-pitched, lispy voice is just the cutest thing ever.
âAww, still feeling shy? Thatâs okay, baby. Itâs hard having big feelings, isnât it? Iâll get that diapie changed in a flash, and then itâs nap time!â
Youâre not even tired, but itâs not like she gives you any say anymore.
As you feel the cold air rush onto your useless private parts, you try not to think about the future. Or all the things you lost.
Not when youâre here in your pastel prison, getting your diaper changed.
âDoesnât a dry diapie feel better, baby? No more icky peepee diapie. All dry and powdered! Yes you are!â
She tickles your tummy.
âCâmon mister, letâs get you all snuggled in your crib. Maybe you wonât be so pouty after a nappy poo, hmm?â
You toddle to your crib, earning more giggles from her, and get under the blanket.
âIsnât this so much better, honey? No more big boy worries? Just a lifetime of cuddles and diapers, snuggles and Momma. What more can a baby like you ask for?â
She kisses your forehead.
âSleep tight, baby. Momma will come get you in an hour. And baby, youâre gonna love your new lifeâI promise.â
Not like you have any choice.
Photo: DaddyIWantthis
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