HENRY'S SWEET REVENGE

It was a rare sight, a rare sight indeed. Henry's stepsister Annabelle was waiting to be taken around back, to their Pa's workshop, for a whipping. Henry could hardly believe his eyes.

Annabelle was naked and already crying - a potent combination of humiliation and fear. Her butt was moments away from being roasted. She knew this, as did Henry. Henry knew from personal experience. In fact, it was those same awful memories of appointments with Pa's razor strop that were making Annabelle's predicament so sweet.

There had been many, many times over the past few years when she had been the one to come across him standing naked in the den, waiting to be walked out to that dreadful shed. Slyly, she would be such a cunt to Henry on these occasions, teasing and laughing, threatening to tell his friends or even his girlfriend. His anger would overwhelm him in those instances and he would usually yell back at her, making it worse on himself with their Pa. But, Henry's penis would grow big and hard and stiff during those moments which would delight Annabelle even more.

Shamefully, after those spankings, later in bed, with his ass still on fire and his pride mortally wounded, he would masturbate furiously. He usually managed more than once, sometimes as many as four or five times in the immediate aftermath, replaying his humiliation in front of his stepsister over and over again in his mind. He hated her and yet, there was this fascination and obsession.

But now the tables had turned.

It had been a long time since Henry had seen Annabelle naked. He was quite certain that she was still spanked by their parents, was even fairly certain that they had paid a visit to her dorm room during her freshman year with Ma's hairbrush ready for action, but somehow, she had managed to avoid an old-fashioned whipping in the workshop for what seemed like forever. For a moment, he wondered what she had done to finally earn this particular trip, but then realized he didn't care. It didn't matter.

He stood at the top of the steps and let his eyes roam all over her body. She was almost through with college, an absolutely humiliating age to require a spanking, especially one that would require a nude trek through the backyard. There were no close neighbors, but again, drawing from his own experiences, Henry knew it was a walk-of-shame unlike any other.

He noticed that she was clean shaven now. Her nipples were rock hard in the early autumnal chill. Annabelle couldn't look up, couldn't make eye contact. All of those times embarrassing Henry, telling her friends about his boners and his red ass afterwards, were running through her head, much as they were through his.

Pa came into the kitchen and took Annabelle roughly by the elbow. "Your sister's going to get a lesson in responsibility," was all he said. Annabelle sobbed loudly as the two of them walked out the backdoor and began their journey to the workshop. Henry felt a familiar and urgent snugness in the crotch of his pants.

What a Girl Wants

Your best friend smiles sweetly at you as you waddle to her, grateful the music is loud enough to drown out the crinkling of your diaper.

Your loaded diaper.

You wonder if she saw you squatting down behind the bar, filling your diaper. You had been so careful finding a secluded space to do your business.

It wasn’t easy—the bar was busy as ever for a Saturday afternoon. But you’d even managed to slip away from Daddy! Surely nobody saw you!

Yet, as you approached Jen, you weren’t so sure.

Does she know?

“Hey, cutie!” Jen said happily over the Kesha song in the background, “You hear the song? This used to be our jam!”

It had been your jam, back in college. When you two were inseparable. All those memories came flooding back.

Those were the days.

Back when you wore bikinis, drank cheap vodka, and closed bars together. Back when you used to compete to see who could get the most numbers from boys, laughing at their desperate, pathetic attempts to hook up with you.

People say it’s time to grow up after you graduate college. Jen did—but not you.

“Sweetie?” Jen asked, “Earth to Emmy?”

You snapped out of your reverie—back to reality and your messy diaper.

“What? Oh, yeah!” you answered, “Gosh, this song reminds me of Spring Break! I miss it!”

Jen smiled again. You tried to hide your jealousy. Jen looked so beautiful in her bikini—and there you were, hoping to hide your bulging, messy diaper.

She takes a breath. “Emmy…come here,” she says seriously, “What’s going on? You’re hiding something…”

You take a tentative step forward. “A-am not!” you say too quickly, sounding more like a toddler than adult.

Jen laughs. “Oh? You’re not, are you? Then I see no reason why you’d be nervous for me to check that diaper of yours.”

“Jen!” you shriek, looking around nervously to see if anyone heard, “No!”

“I’m not gonna ask again, Emmy. Turn around. Now.”

Red-faced and near tears, you obey your best friend. You stand in front of her and move to turn around so she could check your diaper.

Before you do, Jen puts both hands on your shoulders, a stern, yet maternal look on her face.

“Honey, I’m not trying to embarrass you, okay? Your Daddy asked me to keep an eye on you. And that’s what I’m doing. Don’t think I didn’t see you at the bar. Were you making pushies?”

You summon all your strength to not cry. You can’t believe your best friend in the world now treats no differently than a toddler. And asked you—in public—if you made “pushies.”

“Y-yes, Jen,” you sigh.

“Thank you for being honest, honey,” Jen says turning you around, “I need to see if you’re about to have a blowout, though.”

Your face burns as you feel Jen lifting the back of your skirt with one hand, prodding at it with the other. It’s too much. You cover your face, unwilling to see if your infantile display has an audience.

“Looks like you’re fine for now, Emmy,” Jen said, playfully tapping your diaper, “But we should find your Daddy before you stink up the bar!”

“O-okay….,” you whisper, still covering your face.

“Oh, stop being so embarrassed, Emmy. This what you wanted!”

“I-I…I didn’t want…this!” you squeal, losing the battle against your tears.

“Emmy, come on. You asked Brad—I mean your Daddy—to wear diapers! You loved being his little princess! What changed?”

“Everything,” you thought to yourself.

Jen wasn’t wrong about that. But it wasn’t supposed to end like this. You didn’t mean to go this far.

“Everyone just treats me like a big baby now!” you scream, tears flowing down your cheeks, diaper swaying as you stomp your feet.

“Do you hear yourself, Emmy?” Jen said softly, “You’re throwing a tantrum at a bar in a poopy diaper while everyone watches! And you expect us to treat you any different?”

“Not a tantrum! I don’t want to wear diapers!”

Jen sighed, genuine sadness in her eyes. “Sweetie. Your diapers aren’t for fun anymore. You need them. You did this to yourself! What did you expect?”

“But! But!” you continue to sob, “Not a ba—mpgh.”

A pacifier is placed in your mouth, silencing you.

“Sounds like someone needs a nap,” Daddy says, “Sorry, Jen. I should’ve known she was due for a tantrum.”

Jen laughs, “I think she needs a new diaper first, Brad. Poor thing loaded her diaper a few minutes ago.”

Daddy lifts your skirt before you can react. Your diaper is unceremoniously checked for the second time in minutes.

“Pee-yew, Peanut!” Daddy says, “We better clean that tush, pronto!”

Jen stops Daddy. “I don’t know about the men’s room, but the women’s bathroom has a dedicated changing pad. It’ll be tight, but Emmy can fit. I don’t mind changing her!”

“Are you sure, Jen?” Daddy asks skeptically, “That diaper is full of her poopy!”

“Really, Brad, it’s no big deal! She’s my best friend! We’ve been friends since we were in diapers! I guess some things never change, huh Emmy?”

You’re startled back into focus. “I..ummm….”

“Here’s her diaper bag. Be generous with the cream, something tells me this won’t be her last stinky today.”

Jen grabs your diaper bag from Daddy, reaching her hand out for you. “Grab my hand, cutie. Don’t want you getting lost with a poopy diaper!”

You sheepishly take her hand, ignoring the laughing of the crowd.

“Don’t mind them, Emmy,” Jen coos, “They just think you’re adorable with your diaper dropping below your skirt. You’re still as popular as you were in college!”

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dangerousangleofadream

8 months ago

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dangerousangleofadream

8 months ago

A proud parent on the first day of school. I've made more than a thousand captions and I'm not sure I've ever done the "wicked stepmother" thing before. Possibly I have but I don't think so.

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dangerousangleofadream

4 years ago