Can You Feel the Love Tonight?

Careful what you wish for...

The cliché echoed through my mind as I sat on the edge of the hard dining room chair, my eyes flitting unwillingly toward the incriminating laptop screen in front of my wife. There for both of us to see was everything I'd been wishing for these past two years – the hidden stories and images and videos that had fueled those sordid, hormone-soaked masturbation sessions of mine. And judging by the inscrutable expression on her face, they weren't making a very good impression.

"Honey, I still love you, you know," I faltered now, picking nervously at the edge of the table. But Irina was having none of it. "Oh, shut up, Brian," she snapped, turning away with a sigh of exasperation. "Now, full disclosure," she went on, tossing her bleached hair back in a gesture of annoyance. "Yes, a long time ago you did tell me you had a freaky thing for girls wearing diapers. And if you recall, I was nice enough to tell you to enjoy it on your own time, without trying to rope me into it. But when I found this little collection of yours," she gestured distastefully at the laptop, "I knew we had a problem."

She sighed heavily and shook her head. "Brian, this is way bigger than freaking diapers, and you know it. You've got, what? Bondage in here? Dominatrix shit? Sissy stuff? Honestly, I'm not even sure where to begin. But these past few weeks – ever since I found out – I've been trying to figure out a solution. And you know what? I think I've got one: one that will give us both what we actually want..."

What? What the heck was Irina about to propose...?

"Oh, never you mind. You'll find out in about-" she checked her ornate watch, "two and a half hours. Right about supper time. I'm sure you can wait that long, can't you? I know you're going to love it!"

***

Oh, fuck.

This is- this is more than I ever imagined. There's stuff going on that I don't think I ever thought would really, truly happen...

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" The owner of the masculine, growling voice stepped back into view, and I quailed, gulping nervously at the uncomfortably phallic device now filling my mouth. Sebastien, Irina had called him when he'd first stepped through our door: a muscly guy, half a head taller than me, and built like a freaking linebacker. "Oh, snivel all you like, you little nerd," he sniggered, and I felt the thing rachet a notch tighter in my mouth, nearly causing me to retch. "We're just getting started with the fun!"

Off came my shirt, and pants, and socks, and undershirt, until I was standing, silent and shivering, in nothing but my boxers. "Nice shorts, dweeb," Sebastien chortled, and with a sudden jerk they too lay on the floor. "Though your wife says you'd prefer something a little more... protective." And before I could worm away, I found myself in a bear-hug grasp and being hauled over to the bed, where reclined my beloved wife.

"Irina, please, help," I mutely pleaded with wide eyes, even as I heard the crinkle that ordinarily would have set my cock stiffening into arousal. But all she gave me was a cool glance of derision. "See? Just what you've been wanting," she observed with a detached smile as I felt Sebastien's enormous hands lifting me upward, then settling me onto the crinkling, open disposable. "Oh, Seb... hang on. There's a few more things to add before you close that up, aren't there?"

"Yes, of course," he chortled, and then – with a sudden thrusting that made me squeal and gurgle behind the dildo-shaped rubber gag in my mouth, I felt his lubed finger repeatedly penetrating my unsuspecting ass. "That ought to make things interesting," he muttered – but before I could begin to question what or how things were about to get "interesting," an even more invasive presence began slipping into my unwilling anus.

"Plugged good and tight," he reported to Irina at last – and I, sweating and trembling on the bed, could only have agreed. Holy hell, I'd never felt so... full... taken... used. And all from a simple butt plug... But then the diaper was being taped tightly around me, and I was being thrust into all sorts of unfamiliar clothes, the exact style and nature of which I only discovered as they were fastened around my quivering form...

Within ten minutes, I found my squirming self being buckled into something I'd only dreamed of in the most heated fantasies: a literal baby bouncer, all in pastel and sized to fit a genuine adult. Was there any end to the crazy devices Sebastien was able to produce from that van of his? There now seemed to be a bonnet on my head, a dress of frilly lace around my body, long stockings around my dangling legs, and enormously thick mittens swaddling my hands. I was legitimately trapped: a sissified baby man, bobbing gagged and helpless in his bouncer like the most pathetic little sissy baby I'd ever seen in all my sordid internet fantasies.

"Now, then!" Irina was smirking, and now I noticed that she had discarded her dress in favor of only her low-cut lingerie. Lingerie I had gotten her only last year, I thought dismally, even as Sebastien stepped forward with something suspiciously like an enema bag. "Can't have your sissy of a husband getting thirsty while we're playing," he rumbled, and as Irina shook her head in amusement, he bent and deftly hooked the enormous bag's hose to the front of my gagged mouth. "See? Just exactly like you wanted," Irina smiled, as the first rush of creamy fluid filled my mouth. "Now why don't you be a good little dear and let me enjoy myself now, hmm?"

"Oh, Se-eb..."

With one quick stride the fellow was by her side, his enormous hands caressing her curves and running with surprising delicacy along her fair skin: skin that I'd only ever thought I would touch. "Yes, that's right," she breathed, just loud enough for me to hear over my frantic gulping. "Make sure our little sissy gets a full view of everything, Seb. Everything..." To which he grunted assent, even as her bra slid to the floor and her lovely, rose-tipped breasts slipped free.

"Yes, Miss Irina," he muttered, taking one in each hand and kneading them softly. "Oh, god. I bet your sissy would love sucking on these beautiful tits..." "Perhaps," she murmured, gasping with sudden delight as he playfully pinched one nipple. "But, Seb, I think I'd rather train the sissy to suck on other things. I think he's better suited to bottle-feeding anyway, personally..."

And then her panties were on the floor, and his clothes were coming off too, and this muslebound newcomer's hands were slipping over my wife's most intimate places with stunning familiarity. Oh, fuck this guy! How could Irina really prefer him to me? I mean, from what I could see that dick of his was... okay, yeah, maybe double the size of mine... but still! I was raging and weeping internally, but trapped as I was, all I could do was whimper helplessly, kicking my stockinged feet and gulping at the unceasing torrent that was bloating me like an overfed and colicky infant...

It was only when the naked duo sank to the bed – Irina on hands and knees, and the muscled Seb growling and poised to take her from behind with his enormous, fully erect prick – that she spoke. "You wanted all of this, baby," she hissed, looking me squarely in the eye. "You wanted your fucking- Oh, Seb!- baby diapers, and your stupid sissy shit, and- ohhh!!-  and your bondage... Oh, fuck, yes, Seb!"

He was slipping deeper into her pussy now, gliding in and out with grunts of primal satisfaction. Her voice was catching, her eyes rolling back with waves of pleasure as he slowly, methodically fucked her. "So how- how do you like this- Brian?!" she jerked out, stifling a guttural moan of pleasure. "All I want- you see- is- uuurrrghhh!- a man to care- about me- and- fuckkkkk- yes, fuck me- every night..." The rhythm of their lovemaking was accelerating before my widening eyes: matching, then exceeding the pace of my own pathetic gulping. "You'll- be hap- py," she grunted, face contorted in concentrated bliss, "and with- Seb- I'll be- ooooghhgh!!- happy- too-"

"Fuck, baby, I'm close," Seb rasped, and then the entire bed was rocking, squeaking out protests against the vehemence of their frenzied rutting. "Hang- on-" she articulated, and opened her eyes to focus one final time on my frozen, helpless face. "This- this- is what you've been wanting, Brian." She gulped, shivered, and uttered a soft cry of animal pleasure before panting out the rest. "So sit there and- and shit those filthy diapers you want so bad. Suck away on those cock gags. I- oooohhhh- I don't care. Just- let me find a- ooohhhh!!- real man- and don't- don't ever say- I- never got you- any-thingggggg!!!"

And so it was that right before my very eyes, another man took my wife – sending her into spasms of screaming, orgasmic delight with the animalistic thrustings of his oversized cock. While all the while, I was their hapless, sissified baby prisoner: gulping, quivering, feeling the burn of suppositories and the thrusting of my plugged ass and the infantile bulk of my diaper as if they too were accusing me. This is what you wanted. Indeed. And yes, this was what I was getting, as if there were no distinction between fantasy and reality.

But worst of all? Deep in the core of my sordid little soul, I found myself wondering whether I might not eventually come to enjoy this new reality.