Pastel Mirror: Yesterday

“Linda?  Linda?  What’s going on, baby?” Billy pleaded from his spot on the floor as a diaper was slid underneath him.  “Talk to me!”

“I’m not the baby,” Linda said.  “I haven’t been the one throwing tantrums when I don’t get my way.  I know how to use my words.  You don’t.”  The little mouse doubled over in pain, her arms wrapping around her chest.  Through gritted teeth and closed eyes, she continued.  “But that’s okay, now.  I’m gonna…make…it…right…”  To thunderous applause, her breasts bulged out, bloated and full; not unlike Anna’s were.  That explained something.

Miss Susan finished diapering the man and stepped away, brushing her hands off.  “Done.”

The big lug tried to scramble to his feet, only for his legs to buckle and him go crashing down again; just like what had happened to Devin.  From his spot on the floor, he saw most of the baby-men, looking away, afraid, ashamed, or both.  Were they crying?  “WHAT’S GOIN’ ON!” Billy screamed.  “Linda! This wasn’t what we talked about!”  Panicked and pathetic, the big man started crawling on the ground, to the collective awing and laughter of all the women in attendance.  “Please!” he looked up to one of the Mommies.  “Help! Please!”  

All he got was a pat on the head for his troubles.  The women ignoring him, Devin watched as the other man looked to his new peers for help.  None of them could even bear to make eye contact with him.  None of them but Devin.  “Please!  Help me!” He was tearing up. Clawing his way along the carpet in an unsteady, almost possessed rhythm.  “Something’s happening to me!  Call help!  Call the cops!  Call anybody!”  Devin was frozen in terror as the man broke down in front of him, all traces of dignity evaporating in front of Devin’s eyes.  A meaty, unsteady, but surprisingly weak hand gripped the collar of Devin’s onesie.  “Call…call…Maaaaaa maaaaaa!”  Billy dropped face first to the floor with an audible thunk, his fists clenched impotently as he cried out in pain and confusion.

The tones in the room went up a full octave.  “Awwwwwwwwww!” The chorus of cooing was good for two things, covering up the sounds of the other baby-men all quietly crying into their hands, and drowning out the rude sounds that were suddenly coming out of Devin’s backside.

Without even meaning to, Devin began solidly filling the back of his diaper; a smelly and squishy load piled into the soft, soaked cotton, causing the diaper to balloon out and the mess to spread out across his rump.  How had that happened?  Any other day he’d be turning eleven shades of red from embarrassment and thirty-nine hues of green due to whatever food poisoning caused him to shit his pants.  

His skin should be crawling right now; itching and burning with irritation, his mind screaming out from anguish, but just then Devin couldn’t find the energy.  His stomach didn’t turn.  His face didn’t flush.  Just like with him being wet, there was no itching or feeling of discomfort.  It was almost like he was used to this.

With a confident swagger, Linda, now not so mousey looking, came up to the new baby-man.  Rolling him over, her face had gone from an almost emotionless and stern shell to one filled with love and adoration.  Maybe the stuff in that “booster shot” wasn’t the only thing messing with people’s heads.  Maybe something in those pills was crossing the women’s wires.   From her exposed nipples, Devin watched as milk dripped from Linda’s tits.  “A baby’s cry does that to new mothers,” Susan spoke and was rewarded by another chorus of knowing laughs.

Devin couldn’t help but look on as the sick parody of motherhood continued two feet away from him.  Bug-eyed and frowning, he watched as Linda brushed a hard, milky nipple across Billy’s cheek and the overgrown infant turned to latch on, greedily sucking on her tit.

 Stranger still, watching this made him feel…hungry. A line of drool dripped from his lips down to the carpeted floor beneath him. Why was he drooling like one of Pavlov’s dogs?

A familiar hand came up behind him and gave his bum a pat, squishing the newly deposited contents of his diaper up against him.  “Thought so,” Anna said.  “I know that look all too well.”  From his spot on the floor Devin looked up and stared up at his wife. They’d just watched a guy get his ass beat and then injected with God-knows what, and now her biggest concern was what was going on in Devin’s pants?  This wasn’t Wonderland, this was the Twilight Zone.

Among the mad applause, titters and coos that rattled around the room as the newest “Mommy” fed her “baby boy” his first meal, Devin caught sight of more syringes being passed around by the diapered maids.  One after another in rapid succession; confused, crying, begging baby-men were getting the same golden stuff pressed into their veins.  

   As if having landed in the middle of a snake pit, Devin’s head went on a swivel, waiting for the fangs to come down on him.  Devin saw the poor schmuck in the shortalls crawling for the doorway, only to be dragged back by the maids and drugged up like the rest of them.  He was sucking his thumb not ten seconds later.

“Ready to change?” Anna asked. Devin shook his head, his breathing becoming ragged and threatening to break out into a full-blown sob.  “Well, you need a diaper change.  I’m Mommy, and Mommy knows best, remember?”  With two open, syringe-free hands, his wife motioned to a large changing table.  “Let’s go.”   Not yet.  It wasn’t his time yet. Somehow, his plan was still working.  He let out a sigh.  Reluctantly, Devin started crawling towards the changing table.

(Yesterday)

“OMW 😊 😉 <3 <3 <3” the text read.  Followed by “I want your dick,” and “ :0 :0 :0”.   Pants around his ankles, Devin stared hungrily at the text from his spot on the old motel bed.  He could have afforded a better place to meet Jenny, he knew, but the motel was cheap, halfway between home and work, and didn’t need a debit or credit card for a security deposit.

Being here reminded him of being back in college, when he and Anna would find any rickety shack to fuck each other’s brains out.  How’d that old Bob Seger song go again?  “We were just young and restless and bored,” he sung quietly to himself.  Yeah, that was it.

Youth ended though, as youth tended to, and much sooner than Devin would have liked.  Marriage was just a long and boring routine now, with even sex being scheduled for maximum fertility.  Anna’s biological clock was ticking, and she was now fixated on having a baby. And wouldn’t you know it: she was primed to get preggers tomorrow, on Mother’s Day.

Prescheduled, passionless sex, trying to make a squalling ball of piss and shit, on a day that he’d learned to associate with his mother: It was the triple threat of buzz kills as far as Devin was concerned.  That’s where Jenny came in.  It had already been six months or so, and the routine had yet to get boring; probably because he wasn’t supposed to be doing it.   It was exciting.  It was taboo.  It made him feel young and restless and bored, and that he was working on mysteries without any clues, instead of old and tired; like he’d been everywhere and done everything.  It was how sex was supposed to make him feel.

A deep exhale puffed his cheeks out.  He couldn’t get too excited before his intern/lover got into the room.  If he came before Jenny got there, he’d get desensitized and would need to work all the harder to get it up and keep it up for her.   Worse yet, he’d get less enjoyment out of it.  Condoms were bad enough, but a preemptive round two when he hadn’t gotten a proper chance to play in round one would just make for bad, boring sex.  

It’d be just like sex with Anna.  If Jenny and Anna were anything alike, it was that they got pissed when they didn’t get off.  Sometimes all Devin could do is just lay back and try to get through it without saying anything stupid.

Better cool down.  He pulled his pants back up, opened up the Facebook app on his phone and started scrolling through news stories.  

Political memes.

Stupid ads that had somehow targeted him.

Inspirational bullshit.

Devin groaned as he scrolled through it all.  He wanted to cool down, not be bored to tears.  He went to his “Everything Local” group, to see what was going on.  An article caught his attention.

“Man or Baby?” he read aloud. “Both, Maybe?”  Apparently there was a small but growing movement brewing in town; organized from the country club no less.  Men were signing away their power of attorney over to their wives, and then allowing themselves to be put in diapers and treated like babies.  Weird thing was, the ladies seemed cool with this.  The article called it “Maternalism”, which was a weird name, come to think of it. Sounded like a cult or something, even though it looked more like some bullshit kink for guys who couldn’t cut it as real men.

Still waiting for Jenny to knock on the door, Devin scrolled down to the pictures.  

Wow.  Just wow.

When he’d read, “men treated as babies,” he was expecting like a dude in a Depends or something, but these freaks were not kidding around.  Pictures of grown men in toddler shortalls playing with blocks were shown.  Another guy breastfeeding from a woman, presumably his wife, was underneath that.  Some loser on his back in nothing but a diaper burned itself into Devin’s mind.  “Holy shit,” he whispered to himself.  “Is this for real?”  The diaper the guy in the picture had on didn’t look like an adult diaper, but a baby one. Mickey Mouse was on the front and everything.  Was this shit photoshopped like that Al Franken crap a few years ago?  If not, somebody was being sued.

Devin kept skimming the article to see exactly who was about to lose their homes because Huggies and Pampers didn’t want their names associated with loser pervs.  “These men were all infants at their core,” their spokeswoman, Susan (something Eastern European…something-a-vich) was quoted as saying.  “Their new Mommies and I are just giving them what they really need to be happy. Before this, none of our members were happy in their relationships.  Now everyone is.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that.  What woman would actually want to change their dude’s diapers? What dude would want that?  Gross.  Fucking gross.  

 Devin finished scrolling down the article to make sure this wasn’t some kind of satire.  It wasn’t.  The article ended with mention of a planned town hall meeting.  The local HOAs and the Country Club were decidedly not happy with this turn of events.  Down below the article were hundreds of comments all basically saying the same things he was thinking. It was gross.  It was comical.  It was decidedly unsexy.

This.

This did it.  Devin was decidedly less horny, but not bored.

(Today)

Devin didn’t dare struggle as Anna strapped him onto the giant changing table.  Already today, he’d seen someone showing even that much independence get a double dose of the yellow stuff in the syringes.  Poor son of a bitch had gone totally newborn.  All Devin had been able to do was watch from his spot by the blocks while the guy screamed and begged as his ex-wife stuck him in the ass with two needles and then wrapped him up in a diaper so big that it vaguely resembled a pelvic cast.  

Within a minute, the hot yellow wetness indicator on the mammoth Pamper had started to turn a cool teal while the bastard wriggled on the floor, crying and bawling while his wife shushed him and petted his face in long downward calming strokes.  Too soon, the tears stopped, but the crying didn’t.  The big baby had just forgotten how to use his own tear ducts. Then came the diapered maids with blankets to swaddle him up in; followed by a tit in his mouth to shut him up.  It worked.   Miss Susan had watched over the whole thing, smiling approvingly.

Right now was not his time.  Clearly, Anna had drugged him last night and whatever Mickey she’d slipped him had worn off without her realizing it.  But as soon as he showed that he was sober, these cunts would give him a more permanent version.    Devin was going to escape, all right, but he’d have to wait for an opening.  He just had to get through this without showing off his hand.   He had to act like a baby long enough to get away from these freaks and go from there.

“Let’s see if Devin left a present for Mommy,” Anna said, unsnapping his onesie. He’d half expected one of the maids to come and help lift his feet, but it was completely unnecessary.  With a fair amount of ease and a decisiveness showing far too much experience in this sort of thing, Anna snaked her arm under his knees and pushed them back up to his chest, causing his rump to come up off the ground.  The babyish shirt was slid up past his bellybutton shortly after, and his legs were set back down.

 Despite himself, he lifted his head to see the ludicrously proportioned Luvs taped around his hips.  The purple monkey perching just below the “Size 3” marking on his waistband grinned stupidly; while the crisscross purple mesh pattern- rather like a chain link fence- barely hid the swollen yellow discoloration around his crotch.  The smell of cheap perfume mingled with the smell of his leavings.  

Anna fanned her hand in front of her face.  “Yup, this one has about reached its limit.  Time for a change.”  The sounds of Velcro tearing from the front of his diaper scritch-scratched their way into the air as she pulled the front open.  “Oh wow!  What did I feed you to make that?!” she pointed to the revealed contents.

Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush. This was gonna be like bad sex, he decided.  All he could really do was lay back and try to get through it without saying something stupid.  If he was blushing, Anna didn’t notice or comment, instead going for a nearby wipe before snaking back under his legs and starting to tenderly cleanse his backside.  “Mommy will make it all gone,” she said.  “Alllll gone.”

She did make it ‘all gone’, too.  Devin’s legs and hips stayed firmly in the air as wipe after wipe after wipe came and cleaned the mess he’d been forced to make on himself.  If it took a handful of wipes to change a real baby’s diaper, it took at least three times as many to get into the various nooks and folds of his skin.  But clean him she did, and without complaint. Indeed, she did the opposite; cooing nonsense at him as she wiped, and giving his exposed tummy little tickles as she threw one away and went for the next.  There were even little whispers about “what a good boy” he was being, and “how proud” she was. All the while she wiped his ass, cock, balls, and taint without hesitation or rest. Overnight the woman had developed the concentration of a Buddhist monk and the stamina of a camel.

And she was pretty good at it, too.  There was something soothing about having his nether regions tended to by someone else.  Under different circumstances, he could get used to this.  The wipes were from a warmer, as well; not cold like this morning.  As she finished wiping his penis, Devin had to bite his lip to prevent a moan from coming out.  It really was quite nice; just shy of a blowjob, only without the threat of gagging.    “Oh…?” Anna’s remark brought Devin up from his daydream.  In letting his mind wander, Devin’s member had taken the opportunity to swell and become rigid.  

What was going to happen now?  Had he given himself away?  Shit!  His insane wife didn’t call out for any help, however.  No oblivion-carrying needles came to him.  The only thing that happened was that Anna balled up the used Luvs and tossed it into a far-too-big diaper genie.  

“Boys,” she said to him.  “The only thing I can really change about you are your diapers, am I right?”  Devin looked at her and blinked, uncomprehendingly. Was she talking to him or talking at him?  He wasn’t sure.  As if in answer, Anna dug around in the diaper bag and took out a fresh Luvs, unfolding it twice before slipping it underneath him.  Was this his third or fourth diaper today?  He’d already lost track.  Did the one he woke up in this morning count?

More importantly, how was his wife so good at this?  She wasn’t a nurse. She didn’t have any experience with changing regular diapers, fuck all and forget about adult ones.  Yet as she sprinkled baby powder over his rock-hard cock and pulled the fresh crinkling mass up between his legs, Devin got the distinct feeling that she’d done this before.  It was only his second or third diaper change as an adult.  It obviously wasn’t her second or third time changing an adult diaper.  So, who had she been practicing on?  What kind of sick kinky fucker had she been cheating with?

The Velcro tabs were done up: first the left, then the right.  Up went his legs again, even farther back this time, and Anna reached down and yanked the bottom of his onesie down under his bum.  Swiftly she buttoned the snaps closed between his legs, completing the change.  “All done,” she said, giving his padded crotch a pat. “All better.  Isn’t that right, baby boy?”  Oh God.  Under different circumstances, this would be almost hot.  Almost.  

Miss Susan approached the changing table, a suspicious and knowing look in her eyes.  “Not quite,” she said.  “He has the look about him.  It’s time for his booster shot.”

Anna tilted her head to the side and looked Devin square in the face.  “Yeah,” she said.  “I guess it’s time. It’s been fun playing with him like this, though, for a change.”  Her hand ruffled his curly brown locks.  “But I miss my real baby boy. Thank you for reminding, Miss Susan.”

“My pleasure, dear,” the plastic harpy replied. “We all need reminders from time to time, and that’s what this day is all about.  Reminding yourself who you threw away so you can better appreciate who you received in turn.”

She knew.  They both knew.  They all knew.  Luck had nothing to do with it.  They’d known he was in his right head the entire time and had been getting off on him knowingly degrading himself.  Since yesterday, everything had been a sick game. The game was up, though.  Devin couldn’t take it anymore.  “This is sick, Anna.  This whole thing is disgusting.”

Anna ignored him, instead turning to look at the Matriarch of this little cult; that’s what it was, a cult. “It was fun while it lasted,” she said.  “My little Devin always was good at keeping secrets.”  Devin’s indignant rage was cut off as Anna reached over and tweaked his nose a little too hard.  “Just not nearly as good as he thinks he is.”

“Oh, he can’t help it,” Miss Susan replied. “It’s in his nature, after all.”

(Yesterday)

“Fuck me, Daddy!”  

Somehow Devin got even harder at being called ‘Daddy’, his lust increasing even as he continued to thrust in and out of the girl beneath him.  Strange, considering fatherhood is what he was specifically trying to avoid, but something about it just made him want to explode inside her.  “Hrn! Hrn! Hrn!” He grunted as Jenny lay beneath him, her legs up over her head and her free arm sneaking its way between her legs.

“Pull my hair,” she moaned. “Please, pull my hair!”  Her eyes were closed, lost in the sensation, yet he could not take his eyes off her.  By God, this was hot. It was remarkable what a twenty-something girl could do for a thirty-two-year-old man’s self-esteem.  At home, he was ‘Devin’, and ‘honey,’ and other meaningless, powerless nicknames born out of habit.  Here?  Right now?  He was ‘Daddy’.   Here, he could truly be himself.  No guilt. No shame. No responsibilities.  Here, he was king.

He slowed his rhythm just enough so he could lean in close and whisper in her ear.  “Say my name,” he said.  “Ask me right.”  Still inside her, he stopped and waited as the realization dawned on her.  This was a fun game.  Which one of them would ruin it first?  Which one wanted it more?

Eyes still slammed shut, the look of desperation on Jenny’s face grew with each passing heartbeat, it was Jenny (of course) who caved.  “Daddy! Pull my hair, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplease pull my hair, Daddy! Please!”  Smiling, he resumed thrusting and obliged.

Things reached a fever pitch a few seconds later.  Jenny reached up and grabbed the back of Devin’s head, going for a kiss.  He resisted.  Make her work for it.

“DADDY! PLEEEEEEASE!”   That last ‘Daddy’ did it.  In one giant symphony of passion and lust, the two lovers orgasmed in unison, with Devin collapsing in a heap on top of her before rolling over.

Jenny was panting. “I love you,” she said, as she peppered him with kisses, each one a separate little ‘I love you’ declaring her devotion for him.  He took her gorgeous blonde hair and played with it; wrapping around his fingers.

“Well…all right then,” he replied.  Smug.  Satisfied.  Content.  Rather like a lizard basking on a warm rock. That’s how Devin felt, and he rather liked it.  

Jenny, of course, ruined the moment.  “What?” she asked.  “What do you mean ‘Alright then’?”  She drew up and away from him, taking her golden tresses with her.

Devin sat up from his spot on the motel bed.  “You know…” he said, lamely.  He always hated this part.  “I mean I accept your love and you for feeling it. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Do you love me?” Jenny asked, already beginning to pick her clothes up off the worn carpet floor.  That was the problem with younger women: They were quick to fuck, yes, but they were quick to get attached too.

Devin had figured that her being an unpaid intern at his office meant she would have kept this professional. He’d buy her nice things, take her out to expensive ‘working lunches’, give her the cushiest jobs, and he’d get a little action on the side.  A bit of a tits-for-tat arrangement.  He hadn’t gone all ‘Fifty-Shades’ on her and ironed out all the rules or made her sign an NDA; but wasn’t the age old Social Contract good enough?  Apparently not.  

“Do? You? Love? Me?” she repeated.

“You’re really, really fun,” Devin offered.  

“That’s not the same!” she screeched.

Still naked, Devin pre-emptively leaned against the door.  It wouldn’t do to have Jenny running out all upset.

“What am I to you?” Jenny asked.  “What is this?  Who am I?”

Devin shrugged, nonchalantly. “My lover?”

“You have to love someone to be lovers.” Apparently to be someone’s lover, you had to love them these days.  Who knew?  “When are you going to tell Anna?”

That caught him off guard.  “Anna?”

“Your wife?”  Obviously, he knew who Anna was, but how did Jenny know?  His look must have said enough.  “I’ve been your errand girl these last six months, asshole.  I helped file your tax returns!”

Time to take a different approach.  “Look,” he said, “you’re right.  You’re absolutely right.”  He held up his hands in a kind of condescending calming gesture.  “My marriage is failing- has failed- big time, and it’s not fair to you.  I’m just…working some stuff out.”

“Like what?”

Devin scratched the back of his crew-cut head.  How to bail out?  “Tomorrow’s Mother’s Day.”

“So?  You don’t have kids,” Jenny said.  Then she spat, “Not that you claim anyways.”  This being his first major affair, barring a prostitute or two in cities far away, Derek wasn’t sure if she should feel insulted at that insinuation.

“Yeah,” Devin said. “But she’s trying to get pregnant, and I feel like it’d be really shitty to break it to her tomorrow.”

His intern looked thoughtful for a moment.  “Why break it to her?  What if we just ran off?  You could just not come home tonight.”

Tenderly, he stepped up and took her in his arms, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.  “Oh, baby girl,” he said. “I am way too old for that eloping shit.”  She pulled away. He stopped her.  She didn’t struggle further.  Point made on both ends.  “How about we talk about this in a couple of days?  After Mother’s Day?”

The word ‘Mother’ seemed to trigger something in Jenny.  With her big beautiful baby blue eyes she looked up and asked, “Do you want kids?”

Uh oh.  The only thing scarier to Devin than his wife knowing about his mistress was his mistress wanting kids like his wife.  “No!” he said a little too quickly.  “Not with Anna, anyways.  With you, though?”  He let the sentiment linger.  It wasn’t lying if he didn’t finish the thought.

“We’ll talk about it after tomorrow?” Jenny asked, leaning back into his chest.  God, he felt so strong next to her.

“Right after tomorrow,” he said.  By then, maybe he could find a way to break off this mess.

(Today)

Tied down to the matted changing table, Devin craned his neck to make eye contact with the ringleader of this crazy little cult.  Some primal instinct deep inside of him recognized the look in her eye.  They were going to kill him.  His heart wouldn’t stop, but everything that he was, everything that he had been up until yesterday would be effectively erased.  It was murder that left a babbling, drooling, pants pooping corpse.

 If they were going to kill him, he’d at least spit in both Anna and this Susan bitch’s smug little face.  Audibly, he hocked and gathered spit in his mouth.  Let ‘em know it was coming.  Show his defiance up until the very end.

 Stupid.  That was stupid.  A white burping towel was draped over his face before he managed to even pucker his lips.  “It appears as if your baby needs to be burped after his booster shot,” Devin heard that vampire cunt intone.  “He’s about to spit up.”  Cruel, tittering laughter came up in chorus as more so-called Mommies gathered around the last victim of the day.  “Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.”

“Happy Mother’s Day.”  

A shiver coursed up the back of Devin’s neck, and a tiny bit of urine dribbled into his new diaper. There was a certain soullessness that came with that monotone, eerily slow call and response.  “Miss Susan?” a voice, Anna’s, called out from beyond the burp cloth blindfold.  “Can I take the cloth off?  There’s something that I’d like my baby boy to see.”

“Of course, Anna dear.”

In the movies, a bag is taken off the head of the condemned and the poor victim can’t help but look around and blink, their eyes adjusting to the light, their brains reacting to the disorientation of sudden light.  Devin experienced none of this, the white burp cloth being thin enough to let light little pinpricks of light through; however, look around and blink he did.

A new woman appeared to Miss Susan’s right; one of the slave maids that had been refilling baby bottles and wine glasses.  Holding a silver serving tray- the needle with the golden serum resting on top-the girl looked passively straight ahead; seeing but not seeing the full-grown man in the diaper in front of her.  What a wretched thing she was, Devin thought to himself.

Unlike the others, she was completely bald, with pale sickly skin that only came from a rare genetic condition or from being away from the sun for far too long.  Like all the maids, she wore a definitively “adult” diaper: plastic backed, four tapes, and no decorations to speak of beyond a wetness strip. Unlike the other servants, her diaper was hideously over saturated; more yellow and brown than white.  Poor thing hadn’t been changed in at least a day or two.  Her eyes were hollow with dark circles around them.

Whatever they were about to do to him, what they were doing to her was far worse.  Her eyes, though. Something about those sad, dead eyes. That’s when he’d recognized her. The spit he’d saved up dripped out of his mouth and onto the plastic mat.  “Awww,” one of the Mommies said.  “Poor baby needs a teething ring.”  More tittering laughs.

“Jenny?”

Jenny’s eyes didn’t move.  “Hey Devin.”  Her voice was hollow.  Emotionless. Broken.

So many questions; most of which could be answered with one utterance.  “How?”

His lover let out an exhausted sigh. “You gave me up.  They found me.  I’m here now.”  Gave up?  Found her?  Now?  None of these words meant anything to Devin.  What was she talking about?

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Miss Susan said, reaching for the syringe.  “Babies have terrible long-term memory.  He probably doesn’t remember the last spanking we gave him, or that he tattled on you to get it to stop.”  

From his lover, to his captor, to his wife, the syringe journeyed from hand to hand to hand.  “What’s that saying?” Anna said, her face pointed toward Devin but her eyes glaring down at a completely transformed Jenny.  “’There’s a special place in Hell for women who don’t help each other,’ I think it is?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“And?”

There was no life in Jenny’s eyes.  She couldn’t cry, so a single tear dripped from Devin’s eye for her.  “Here I am,” Jenny droned.

Devin looked over to his wife.  None of this madness made any sense.  “Anna, honey, I’m so confused right now.”

“I know baby,” Anna said.  Almost tenderly, she wiped his thigh with an alcohol swab.  “This’ll make it all better.  All those lying, cheating, manipulating thoughts will go right out your little head and you’ll get to be my happy baby boy again. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“How?” Devin demanded.  “How did you manage to do all of this so quickly?  Just yesterday, we were married and everything was normal.”

Everyone, everyone laughed at that; even Jenny.

Susan leaned over and stroked Devin’s wild curls of auburn hair.  “Oh, sweet baby boy,” she cooed as Devin felt the sting of the needle enter his leg.  “That was five years ago.”

(“Yesterday”)

The mattress groaned and moaned with each thrust and pump as their pelvises collided, making a kind of harmony with Anna’s near animalistic grunts.  Devin lay naked on his back as Anna rode him like a pony, encasing his sex with hers.  While Devin did his best to lay still as he’d been told, sucking on his lips and gripping the wrinkled sheets to maintain his composure; Anna growled with each bounce on his cock.  If there was a line between anger and lust, she was straddling it.  

His testicles: they hurt. His balls actually ached at this point. There had been no dinner when he got home, only fucking. His tie had been ripped off (again) the moment both feet had been across the threshold as Anna passionately kissed him and pushed him through the kitchen and into their bedroom. Clothes had become so much snake skin, shed and forgotten by the time she first mounted him.  She’d been wet and grabby and intense; so intense.  He was hard and more than willing to let her do all the work.  That had been four orgasms ago.

He’d wanted to rest; to at least get a drink of water; but after round one came round two, and so on.  There was a certain way about her tonight; how she threw herself at him, how she begged and pleaded while forcing herself on him; a kind of aggression mixed with passion and more than a hint of desperation that he just couldn’t resist.  Each time he came, she’d just keep grinding up against him and do whatever she could to get his motor running.    Fantasies of threesomes (the good kind) had been hinted at.  Promises of anal had been made at one point.  “Come on, baby,” she’d pant.  “One more time.  Do it for me, baby.  Fuck me.  Keep fucking me.  I want to fuck your brains out!”  Devin had never had time to become soft.  His load had been blown, but Anna was still cocking his shotgun, hurrying along the next release.

Now his balls hurt; feeling like a pair of overstrained muscles, the pleasure for him had stopped long before she had.  It was as if his wife was trying to milk every last bit of sperm out of him. Shouldn’t have done that extra round with Jenny, he thought to himself.  If he knew that “trying for a baby” would have made Anna this horny, he wouldn’t have had to fool around as much to get his rocks off.  Though now, Anna was practically smashing his rocks into pebbles.

In the back of his mind, he was glad he slipped birth control into her coffee this morning.  Warning: Failure to take could result in up to eighteen years of responsibility.  If he wasn’t so exhausted he’d have chuckled at his own cleverness.  His head lulled to the side.

Strong, slender fingers grabbed his chin, forcing him to look directly at his wife.  “Say it!” she growled. “Say my name!”

“Anna!  Oh Anna!”

She leaned forward and hissed.  “No! Say my name! My other name.”

“Oh baby! Oh-oh-oooooh!”  His words were cut off by the palm of her hand covering his lips.

Anna’s eyes were pure raging lust.  “No.  That’s your name. Say mine!”

“MOMMY!” he cried out.

The top half of her body shot upright.  She was the cancer patient at the miracle revival; touched by God.  “Ooooah!” Her hands glided up to her naked chest and she started teasing her nipples; pinching them and tracing little circles around them.

Finally, he was onto something!  Again.  “MOMMY!”

“Uhhhhh! YES! YES! YES!  Oh BABY! YES!”

Devin smiled and crowed. “I LOVE you MOMMY!” That did it.  Anna started slowing down, writhing as she climaxed; her screams erupting above her as she tilted her head ceilingward; then dying down into low moans and a kind of happy purring.  Devin exhaled in relief as she (finally) dismounted.

But she did not collapse into him, nuzzling his chest, as she so often did after coitus.  “Good baby,” she said softly.  “Very good.”  Was she talking to him, or to the baby she thought was (but wouldn’t be) coming from their coupling?  Devin didn’t know and didn’t much care.  Right now, all he wanted was sleep.  It was only with the slightest bit of guilt that he rolled to his side, turning his back to Anna while she riffled in the hope chest she kept next to her side of the bed.

 “That’s right, baby,” he heard her whisper.  “Just go right to sleep.  Mommy will take care of the rest.”

She was taking this ‘Mommy’ thing a little far, wasn’t she?  It was kind of a turn-off, now that he thought about it.  Whatever.  It was a phase she was going through, Devin knew.  Now, it was time for sleep.  He closed his eyes.  His lids were so heavy.

He barely felt that little prick in his right cheek.  The sound of the crinkle didn’t register in his brain, nor did the feeling of the extra layer of padding that had been slipped beneath his bum as Anna rolled him back over.  Eyes still closed, he arched an eyebrow when he felt something pulled up between his legs and wrap around his hips.  He should have been wondering, but he was too tired for even idle speculation.

He’d figure out what was going on when he woke up tomorrow.