Letter: Diapered Husband

By | February 22, 2016

In July of 2005, I met Mark when he was hired on at my company. From day one I could tell he had a bit of a crush on me. Three inches shorter than me and completely lacking in confidence, he just wasn’t my type. Regardless of my indifference towards him, he was constantly bringing me coffee and offering to do all sorts of favors. At first, I was hesitant to accept his offers, as I didn’t want to lead him on. However, helping always seemed to make him so happy, so I slowly got into a habit of letting him.

Shortly before Christmas of that same year, I had a really bad breakup with a guy I was dating. Tall, good looking and cocky – he was exactly the type of guy I was attracted to. Too bad he was such a self-centered asshole.

At the company Christmas party, I had a few too many drinks and started to make an ass of myself. Mark stepped in and saved me an embarrassment that may have ruined my career. It was at the point that I realized I needed to try dating a nice guy, rather than the typical douchebag.

When I asked Mark out, I thought he was going to faint. He just looked at me with a surprised smile on his face and nodded. I had rendered him speechless just by asking him out. It was cute, but a little worrisome.

The first three months we dated, we never had sex. I was open to it, but he always seemed so shy about the subject. Finally, one day after a nice dinner, I straight up asked him if he was going to fuck me. I didn’t wait for an answer as I stripped out of my clothes and he slowly removed his. When he got down to his underwear, I pulled him close by the waistband. Looking down, I realized why he feared intimacy. Inside his shorts was the smallest erect cock I’ve ever seen – a little less than three inches long.

I tried to avoid reacting to it, but I’m sure he could tell I was surprised. Regardless, we had gotten this far and I wasn’t going to stop. After removing his underwear, I pulled a condom from my purse and ripped it open. Just as I began sliding it over his dick, his whole body tensed up and he came right into the half rolled condom.

He apologized and was clearly embarrassed, but I just took it in stride and figured I would wait until he got hard again. I pulled him onto the bed and we cuddled for a bit until he was ready to go. The second go was a little better, but he still only lasted about 90 seconds before cumming again.

Over the next few dates, I taught him the fine art of cunnilingus, which he took to surprisingly well. It didn’t take long for him to learn what made me cum and he eventually got very good at it.

Outside of the bedroom, everything was great. He paid attention to me and was basically the perfect boyfriend. We always did what I wanted to do and if I insisted that he pick, he would choose something he knew I enjoyed. For this and other reasons, I married him in June of 2007.

Right after our wedding, I was offered a promotion at the company. The problem was that they had a policy about married couples. In order to accept the promotion, Mark would have to leave the company. We figured he would find another job easy enough and the pay upgrade was simply too much to pass up. So, Mark resigned and I got promoted.

Unfortunately, finding another job was not quite as easy as we had anticipated. After six months of unemployment, Mark was getting downtrodden and I would often find him laying around the house doing nothing. We would often argue and I would always end up storming out.

After one particularly bad argument, I’d had enough. I grabbed Mark by his arm and began to march him down the hall to the office. I was going to sit down with him and update his resume, but he had gotten a difference sense of things. Halfway down the hall, he says “Please don’t spank me! I’m sorry I yelled at you!”.

I was flabbergasted that he would even think that was my plan, but at the same time I couldn’t help but think he expected it. Is that something I could really get away with? Would it help with our situation? Without even thinking, I just responded with “You will be sorry!” Then I turned at the bedroom, instead of the office and pulled him to the bed.

Thinking back to the types of spankings I had witnessed as I child, I sat on the bed and pulled him across my lap. I could see his lip quiver as I did so, but he obediently complied and went right into position.

After ten swats with my hand across the seat of his jeans, my hand began to hurt and it didn’t seem to be affecting him much. So, I reached up onto the dresser and grabbed my wooden hairbrush. Two strokes from the brush made him yelp out loud, but I kept going.

I got caught up in the heat of the moment. My anger towards him just took over and I lashed out – long and hard. After about 80 strokes of the brush, he was bawling his eyes out and my arm was worn out. It took me a moment to catch my breath as I dumped Mark off my lap. He lay on the floor for several minutes rubbing his butt as I got myself ready for a shower.

When I came out of the shower, I found Mark dutifully sitting in the office updating his resume. I was about to apologize to him for losing my temper, but he spoke first and thanked me for disciplining him. For weeks after that, he was once again a model husband. He still couldn’t find work, but he wasn’t insufferable anymore.

After that, spankings became a part of our lifestyle. Any time he would talk back to me or fail to do a chore correctly, I would pull out the hairbrush. After a bit of research on domestic discipline, I incorporated corner time into his spankings as well.

One day, while reading a forum on domestic discipline, I stumbled across a post from a woman that was tired of her husband’s premature ejaculations. Several forum members suggested humiliation training by using adult diapers any time he failed to control himself. I loved the idea and ordered a package of Molicare diapers.

The night the diapers arrived, I had them hidden in the closet. As expected, Mark lost control after only a few seconds and came before we even got to the sex. I berated him for his failure, then took him over my knee for a spanking. After a thorough butt warming, I told him to lay on the bed and I retrieved a diaper from the closet.

He tried to refuse when I told him he was going to wear a diaper every time he came without permission, but the threat of lengthy hairbrushing convinced him otherwise. Within minutes, I had him dressed in the thick purple diaper and put him to work tonguing my pussy.

This also became part of our lifestyle and he spent a couple nights a week in diapers. I would always let him remove it in the morning before he jumped in the shower, but I rather liked him in the diaper. He just seemed so docile and caring when wearing them.

A few months after that, I came home earlier and found him in the office masturbating to pornographic videos. I don’t have a problem with porn and wouldn’t have cared otherwise, but I saw it as an opportunity to get what I wanted. I played it up and acted pissed off. I dragged him into the bedroom and gave him a spanking on par with that first angry spanking.

While he was bawling on the floor, I told him that if he couldn’t control himself, maybe he belonged in diapers. I told him that his punishment would be one week in diapers without potty privileges. He hated it, but accepted my judgment.

It was hard on him at first. He managed to wet himself without too much trouble, but messing was another issue. The very next day, I caught him using the toilet when he was supposed to be showering and extended his week in diapers to a month. When he argued, I gave him another spanking for good measure.

Since then, I have managed to find many, many reasons to keep him in diapers indefinitely. At this point, he hasn’t used a toilet in over six years. We also gave up the idea of him working and he is now a dedicated house husband. I have also discovered the joys of chastity, enemas and strapons. I own two strapons – one that I use on his ass when I’m feeling frisky and one that he wears over his diaper when I need a bigger cock.

Despite everything I have put him through, he insists he has never been happier. He hopes to someday get out of diapers, but I hope he’s not holding his breath. I just enjoy him in them too much.

Thanks for reading.

Erin

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