daddydom-newengland:Stretching in her diaper, part of her morning routine  Scottie stretched hi

daddydom-newengland:

Stretching in her diaper, part of her morning routine 

Scottie stretched his hamstrings. Had to be loose. This was his chance to escape this hell he was living in. He stretched and heard his diaper crinkle. He felt his slinky feminine shirt against his chest. All because of his bitch of a stepmom.

Like it was his fault an English major couldn’t find a good job out of college and so had to move back home. Like it was his fault cleaning and dishes was women’s work so of course he was going to sit on his ass as his stepmom and stepsister Jenny did all that. Like it was his fault he’d come home drunk one night from partying and stumbled in the kitchen and knocked over a bunch of glasses and then passed out on the couch and pissed himself and the couch. That was his buddies’ fault for buying him shots. And like it was his fault he called his stepmom Debbie a fucking bitch to her face when she said, “You’re going to get off your ass and be a man and do something,” one day as he lounged around playing video games.

Days later his dad called a family meeting. That only happened in emergencies. Scottie sat down at the table with his dad, stepmom and stepsister, who was home from college getting ready for her senior year. And there and then Scottie listened in horror as his dad talked about how out of control he was, how lazy, how he wasn’t acting like a man, how he was ashamed. “But your stepmom has a solution.”

Debbie laid out the solution: Diapers and girly discipline. “It worked wonders for my first husband, god rest his soul. Diapers and sissy discipline can turn bad boys into good girls and then back to a good boy.”

Huh?

Scottie would wear diapers. All day. All night. He’d be changed by his stepmom or stepsister or “your dad if he wants but I bet he doesn’t.” You’ll wear girlie clothes at home but can wear boy clothes out and about…if he behaved. There would be spankings to drive home things. Stepmom would give him baths to make sure he was staying clean.

No way. No fucking way. This was fucking absurd. What the fuck? His stepmom and dad listened patiently while his stepsister just smiled at him, though she did say, “I think it’ll help you, Scottie. It did my dad.”

No fucking way. Till his dad laid out what happened if he didn’t. “You’re out of this house. Tonight. I know you have no savings. Your credit cards are still on my account. I’ll freeze that. No money. Could stay with friends I guess but if you do you never come back here to live. Or get a dime. Ever.”

So that was that. She said it would last for three months. The regimen started. A few weeks into it Scottie sat on the floor at the edge of the couch, facing the wall. She and Jenny were watching an R-rated movie, “too big for little girls.” Her hubby wasn’t home. He’d started spending more and more hours at work, not wanting to see his son’s emasculation. From the couch, Debbie absentmindedly fondled the hair on the back of his head. He wore headphones, piping in diaper hypnosis messages. Eventually she flipped the headphones off.

“Sweetie, I tell you what. I’m feeling charitable. Do you want a way out of this forever, for good. And a way to make sure your dad keeps paying your bills? No more diapers, take your time finding a job, relax. And you can stop being our maid too.” He nodded vigorously.

“Beat Jenny in a 100-meter race.”

Jenny laughed. She was national runnerup in Division II in the 100-meter. She would fucking kill him. But Scottie jumped at the idea. “Yes! Please. Oh god.” He knew his stepsister was fast but he was a man. Biologically superior. And he could not put up with 3 months of this nonsense.

“But,” Debbie said. “If you lose, it’s diapers. For a year. Without exception. And sissy gear outside too. We’ll tell the world you’re transitioning and are also incontinent if that makes it easier for you. But you will be in diapers, skirts, dresses, leggings, panties, bras, for a year. Everywhere.”

The moron still eagerly agreed.

Now Debbie watched from afar as her stepsissy stretched. She had told him he was to run in his diapers. She briefly considered making him wear Jenny’s college bunhuggers, but decided on the diapers. They’d irritate his rash and he’d be conscious of the waddle while trying to run. Her daughter’s victory was assured. He’d put on 20 beer pounds in a year and a half. And had never been much of an athlete. Yes, he’d lose and she’d sentence him to diapers. For a year. But that would turn into two and then three and then a lifetime. Eventually she’d have him out of the will for good other than some money to pay for his eventual institutionalization, which he would need. She was going to destroy him physically and emotionally. Regress him, feminize, incontinent him, humiliate him. He’d be a lisping, simpering, wimpy shell of a man, a diapered dummy for life. She’d still visit him in the nuthouse though she doubted his dad would when her work was complete.

That was down the line. For now she watched the sissy stretch his hammies, so eager to have his chance for victory. No more diapers for him!

Fool.