18+ only! 100% NSFW! Dedicated to age play, spanking, domestic discipline, corporal punishment, medical fetishism, and, of course, beautiful women in diapers. If you like what you see here, leave a comment or drop me a line at: parkerlongabaugh@yahoo.ca

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Morning In America

(OK, first things first: no I have not abandoned Mama’s Girl or Adult Entertainment. This is just a short palate cleanser I wanted to do before I finish them. I know you’ve been waiting a long time—sorry, hope you enjoy this one just as much (those of you who wondered why I avoided long, multi-part stories—now you know).
Oh, but this one’s got it all folks! It’s hot and sexy. It’s got spankings, rectal temp taking, domestic discipline, and (for the first time in one of my stories) an enema. Part two even has an epic “messy” scene and just a little public humiliation. Enjoy!)

 Charlize Theron as Betty

Part One
     She groaned. His voice scrapped inside her skull painfully… she buried herself into her pillow and pulled the sheets tighter around her, trying to escape from it. “Betty? Sweetheart? Time to get up baby.”
     Snarling, she struggled even harder to escape from the sound of his voice, but she knew it was no use. “Betty, c’mon, we’ve got to get ready to go…”
     She groaned again; whoever this ‘Betty’ was (was it her? She couldn’t remember just now), she did have to get up God awfully early in the morning. She turned onto her stomach and gathered her pillow in her arms.
     She steeled herself for his voice again, but instead there was just a deep chuckling. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?”
      In one swift flurry of motion, the covers were torn off. She emitted a shocked squeal as her beautiful, naked body was exposed to the morning chill, so pale and perfect in the light she looked like a snow sculpture. The smooth white flesh of her back and the plump, pale heart of her bottom broke out in goose pimples. She gave a moan of protest; feeling defiant, she stuck her rump up behind her and wiggled it at him like a naughty little girl.
     “You bad girl,” he said, his smile evident in his voice. He reached down and gave her bottom a sound smack, leaving a perfect pink imprint on her right cheek. She yelped and flattened out on her belly. She tried to roll away from him, but it was too late; he took a seat on the bed next to her. Wrapping his arm around her to keep her in place, he began swatting her jiggling tushy. She squealed and squirmed on her tummy against the cool sheets, trying desperately to flee, but he had her trapped tight, and his hard palm was lighting her pale backside on fire.
     “OHHHH, HHOOONNN-IIIIEEEEE!” she whined, beating her delicate feet against the mattress, “I’m tired! Just let me sleep in this once!” she pleaded like a bratty child, the slow but relentless spanking making her butt wobble and redden.
     “Sweetie, we go through this every week,” he scolded, raining smacks upon her bottom with careful precision. “Come on and get that little tushy in gear—it’s only an hour—you can have a nap when we get home.”
     “Oh, but I can’t! I--” she swallowed hard and tried to stop herself from saying it, knowing what the consequences would be. |But it was too late: “I’m sick!” she blurted out.
     The spanking stopped immediately. She sighed, her derriere burning bright red behind her, even though the spanking had been relatively slow and mild. He laid his hand on her bottom and held it there, feeling her smooth, warm flesh beneath his palm. She gulped trying to anticipate his next move. “Sick, huh?” he said skeptically, caressing the smooth skin of her rump gently.
     “Uh-huh,” she said, trying to sound raspy.
    “HHmm,” he murmured, reaching up to touch her forehead. She held her breath and tried to will her body temperature to rise. “You’re not trying to trick me and get out of church this morning, are you Betty?” he asked, patting her rump firmly.
     “No, I promise!”
     “Hmmm…” he rose and headed toward the door. “We’ll see. Stay right where you are and don’t move, young lady.” And then he was gone.
     She forced herself to lay still and chewed her lip nervously. She could hear cabinets opening and closing in the bathroom, their contents shifting.
     Silence… she felt his shadow fall across her. “Let’s take your temperature, baby.”
     She started to turn over, but he stopped her by gently laying a palm on her shoulder. “No no, honey,” he said gently. “I need you like this,” he said, patting her tushy.
     The comment hung in the air. Realization came to her, a small, cool ball in her stomach. She peeked over her shoulder and let out a cry when she saw the thermometer sticking out of the jar of Vaseline in his hand. “Oh, honey, no,” she protested, starting to turn over.
     Again, she was too late: he easily pinned her to the mattress and delivered and series of swats to her bottom, machining her kick and squeal. Once he had her subdued, he wasted no time in spreading her cheeks. She blushed furiously when she felt him take a dollop of Vaseline and spread it on her anus. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest. She felt the thermometers cool, greasy tip poised at her bottoms crinkled entrance; she squealed as she felt it slipping into her with casual ease, vividly aware of every sensation as it slid deeper and deeper inside her. She curled her toes into little fists and buried her face in the pillow, blushing brightly. She realized with mounting embarrassment that she was getting quite moist. She pressed her thighs together and tried to stop herself from squirming on the sheets, preying he wouldn’t notice.
     She forced herself to lay still and breathe deeply, tried not to think about the cold glass tube sticking out of her tushy, and the warm hand cupping her crack, holding it in between its fingers. Meanwhile, she was getting hornier by the second, her pussy all moist and wet… the temptation to reach down between her legs and play with herself almost overwhelming …
     He withdrew the thermometer from her quickly, drawing a girlish squeal. Inspecting it, he chuckled and smiled at her. “Sorry sweetie,” he said, patting her rump apologetically, “98.6 on the nose.”
     He sat on the bed next to her, took her by the arm and pulled her across his lap. Moments later, she was kicking and squealing and squirming as he began raining spanks on her vulnerable bare bottom once more. “You naughty girl,” he scolded, grinning at the way her buns jiggled and reddened. “Now we’re going to be really late!”
     She squealed and flopped on her belly, kicking and pleading and punching the mattress. The spanking was painful and embarrassing, but even worse than that, she was getting desperately aroused, and it was getting impossible to think straight. “But honey, I’m not lying!” she insisted, “I really am sick!”
     “Oh really?” he said archly, stroking her tushy tenderly. She pouted and groaned and wriggled across his lap, savoring her helplessness. “Where are you sick, baby?” he asked, reaching out to stroke her soft blonde hair.
     “My tummy hurts,” she said petulantly.
     “Does it now?” he said with a disbelieving laugh. “Well, we’ll get that fixed up quickly, won’t we honey?” He bent to kiss her on the head. He helped her off his lap and watched her stretch out on the bedspread once more with a sly smile. “You stay right there,” he said, leaving her on the bed once again.
     She sighed and settled in, waiting until his footsteps reached the bathroom before she reached down, slipping her fingers between her legs and began rubbing herself off. She fought back her sighs and groans and worked her fingers desperately, only vaguely aware of the sounds of cabinets and shuffling behind her, followed by the sound of running water.
     She heard him returning… she was maddeningly close to orgasm, knew she couldn’t finish herself off before he got back. So, stifling a cry of frustration, she retracted her hand moments before he stepped through the door. She looked over her shoulder to see if she’d been caught, nearly choking at what she saw.
     The enema bag had been part of a gift for their first anniversary. After lavishing her with chocolates, flowers, perfume and a beautiful new dress, he’d handed her the nondescript package with a card reading:
To my beautiful, adoring wife Betty
On our anniversary, I pledge to care for you give you exactly what you need to keep you happy and healthy; And with the help of this gift, I promise to give you what you deserve, each and every time you need it.
     She tore open the package with a gleeful grin… which promptly melted into a horrified frown when she removed the bag, specially monogrammed with her initials, her husband howling with laughter at her dismayed expression.
     It was the same expression she wore now as she watched her husband hang the bag from the bed frame, bulging at the sides. “Nice and warm with lots of suds,” he said with a smile, smearing the nozzle with Vaseline.  She gaped at him, stupefied. She’d only had one so far since she’d gotten the bag and it was a dreadfully humiliating experience.
     He approached her, glistening tube in hand. She balked, squirming and trying to backpedal. “Honey, please not that…”
     “Nonsense,” he insisted “if you really have an upset tummy, this is the best way to make you feel better.”
     “Young lady, do you want another spanking?”
     She certainly did not. She forced herself to obey him, throwing herself down on her stomach with a heavy sigh and bracing herself, her thighs growing slick with anticipation. She felt the greased tip touch her hole and took in a deep breath; “be still,” he whispered gently. She bit her lip and squeaked as the tube pushed its way home.
     She sucked in deep breaths, trying to get used to the sensation. She looked back over her shoulder, blushing at what she saw; the hose wound its way out of her butt-crack like a tail. Above her, the bag bulged ominously, her own initials on the side mocking her. There was a small snap, and she gasped as she felt the water begin to flow. Her stomach filled; her cheeks grew redder and redder. She buried her face in the pillow and tried to relax as the enema blew her up like a balloon.
     He sat on the bed next to her, bending close and kissing her cheek. She released  a breathy groan as she felt him trail his hand down her back, gasped when he took the hose between his fingers and wriggled it slightly. She curled and uncurled her toes, teetering on the edge of arousal and discomfort. He chuckled, patted her bare bum affectionately. Her blush became even fierier when he trailed his hand down between her legs and found her wet.
     “Such a naughty girl,” he chuckled, gently massaging her privates. She groaned and wriggled in response, bratty and impatient. The tube in her bottom, the water flowing into her, the fullness in her belly, the wonderful fingers between her legs… it was all too much. Once again she raced toward an explosive climax.
     He withdrew his fingers quickly, drawing an outraged grunt from her. “Naughty, naughty little girl,” he said, delivering a brisk spank to her wriggling bottom.
     She squealed, the sensation of the nozzle, the water rushing in, the fullness of her abdomen, and the spanking overwhelming her senses. He laid a couple of more smacks on her wriggling rump and she emitted a series of grunts and groans. The Exposure, the embarrassment, the sting and jiggle of her backside was all making her desperately excited.
      Eventually, the bag was empty. “Don’t spill a drop, you naughty girl, or you’re really going to be in trouble,” he warned, popping the nozzle out of her hiney. She gasped and licked her lips, burying her face in the pillow. He quickly took the bag and nozzle to the bathroom and returned, taking a seat on the bed next to her. They sat side by side for a long moment; he petted her hair and stroked her skin gently, making her twitch and shiver. She was humiliated, her butt-cheeks were stinging, she was swollen with water, her bowels ached, and God help her, she was still massively, achingly aroused. She was worried she was quickly reaching a point where she’d literally have to choose between controlling her bowels and resisting the urge to masturbate.
     Finally he stood. “OK honey let’s get you to the potty,” he announced, helping her from the bed. With his aid, she baby stepped down the hall as quickly as she could, her buns clenched tightly. She glanced curiously at her belly, horrified and fascinated to see her tummy, ordinarily so perfect and flat, bulging out like half a basketball. She waddled as quickly as possible to the bathroom. “You may sit, but don’t expel until I tell you,” he told her firmly.
     She wasn’t about to argue; she scurried across to the toilet and perched herself on the seat, clenching her butt-cheeks and anus desperately. Her stomach burbled, her bowels demanding release. She watched with horror as her husband came in and took a seat across from her on the tub. “That’s a good girl,” he said gently, stroking her thigh.
     Her bowels were percolating loudly. “Please,” she said, crossing her ankles, straining so hard she practically shook on the seat.
     “Shhh,” he soothed, leaning forward to kiss her on the temple. “Just a little longer sweetheart,” He started kissing her and touching her body, playing with her nipples and rubbing her belly gently. She clenched her fists, trying to endure the exquisite, embarrassing agony: sitting naked on the toilet in front of her husband, desperate to expel an enema, desperate to climax… desperate to come and go at the same time.
     “Ok,” he said, “expel.”
     She complied immediately, letting out a massive gush of water. She sighed loudly, gratefully—she was embarrassed to admit it felt great to relive herself, especially while being kissed and touched by her handsome husband.
     She grunted—a ghastly splattering sound emerged, much amplified by the toilet. Her jaw dropped, her cheeks went red. She tried to contain herself, but she was too exhausted to fight it. She gave an anguished cry, unleashing another gassy torrent into the bowl. She groaned and spread her legs as he massaged his way down her abdomen toward her glistening pussy, sighing quietly when the tips of his fingers touched her clit softly…
     Out of nowhere, she blasted a messy fart. A load of water and mush splattered into the toilet. “OOOH! OOoo!” she cried and squealed, fighting for breath as a series of noisy farts and plops emerged. He worked his fingers between her legs, kissing her neck and whispering endearments to her. She came dangerously close to orgasm…
     He pulled back again… she cried out in frustration… the tease and denial of an orgasm was as bad as the embarrassment of expelling an enema in front of him.
     She flushed and rose from the toilet. “Are you sure you’re done?” he asked. She nodded numbly—indeed, she was certain she was emptier than she’d been in a long time. “Positive?”
     “Yes,” she said softly.
      “Very well; assume the position,” he said, toilet paper in hand. She did as she was told without hesitation, bending over the tub to present her plump, pink bottom to him. She moaned as he tore off a few sheets, wadded them up and pressed them between her dainty butt-cheeks. She shivered as he wiped her bottom clean like a toddler. With a thumping heart and slick thighs, she stood by and let him wipe her bottom like a little girl in potty training.
     Next thing she knew, she was in the shower. With a rag and some liquid soap, he set about cleaning her up. She stood under the nozzle, basking in the warmth of the water and the tingly delights of the sensual cleaning. He took his time, betting into every nook and cranny, until she was all clean once more.
     He helped her out of the shower… she stood by shivering and meek as he took a towel and dried her. He wrapped its soft fluffiness around her shoulders and smiled at her knowingly, making her blush and look away. He ushered her out the door and guided her down the hall and into the bedroom. Taking the towel off, he spread it out on the bed. He looked her in the eye and pointed, and she knew exactly what he wanted. She spread herself out on her tummy and shut her eyes. She gasped when he squirted the cool lotion onto her back, then purred contentedly when he started robbing it in. Now this I could get used to, she thought, indulging herself with a lazy smirk. He massaged her shoulders and upper back, then down to her mid back, and then lower still…. She swooned when he squirted a fat dollop on each velvety buttock and began to work it in, firmly, but never hurting her too much… even with a spanked bottom.
     Once her finished her thighs and calves, he had her turn over. She obeyed, rolling onto her back and staring up at him lasciviously, nearly catatonic with lust, begging him with every fiber of her being to finish her off. Still her continued her delightful, sensual torment, slowly sizzling the cool lotion across her breasts, making her gasp as it dropped on her nipples and ran into her cleavage. He rubbed it in slowly, taking time to tease her nipples. Down her pale tummy, smooth and flat once more, making her giggle when he tickled her belly-button.
     The attention paid to her pussy was maddeningly brief, just enough to bring her to the edge of relief and them deny her once more. “Please…” she begged, stretching in every direction to make herself more open and vulnerable.
     He patted her pubic mound and smiled. “Soon,” he said and bent to kiss her right above her pussy. “But not just yet,” he chuckled, taking her ankles and hoisting them into the air above her.
     She squawked, so shocked she didn’t even feel him slip the diaper under her tushy. Grinning, he gave each plump cheek a blast of powder and began patting it in. The realization of what was happening came cold and hard… she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
      “Oh honey, please don’t,” she begged.
     “Now you hush,” he scolded, giving her bottom a swat before lowering her onto the diaper. “You were off the potty in an awful hurry, missy,” he said, making her blush. “We wouldn’t want you having any accidents in church,” he said, pulling it up tight between her legs, and sealed the Velcro tabs closed. She sat up on her elbows and looked down with a frown: the diaper was massive and bulky and padded so thick between the legs that walking without waddling would be impossible. “This is ridiculous!” she protested, “I’m not going to have any damn accidents!”
     “Hush,” he said, pushing a pacifier into her mouth. “be a good girl,” he said, pulling a pair of thick rubber pants up her legs, “or I’ll make you suck on that thing through church.”
     She settled back and pouted, sucking the rubber nipple and allowing him to pull the panties up her legs, then lifted her rump so her could pull it over the diaper. She sat up and frowned, the diaper bulging massively below her.
     He helped her to her feet; The diaper bulged around her waist like a bubble, giving her figure an exaggerated pear shape. The diaper and rubber pants were getting very warm, and she knew it was soon going to be hot, moist, and uncomfortable in there. Thank goodness for the baby powder, she thought grimly.
     He fixed her with a solemn gaze. “Now,” he said, checking his watch, “because of your silliness, we’re already late, young lady, so I want you to hustle your backside and get ready quickly because we’re leaving soon. And if I have to take you to church in nothing but a diaper, then that’s what I’ll do,” he warned, making her gulp. “Now get!” he commanded, sending her waddling off to the bathroom to do her hair and make-up with a swat on her bulky diapered backside.

Part Two