The Picnic Baby (Patreon)

Everyone looked forward to the community picnic.

For years, it was because of my Apple Pie. 

I had the perfect way of making it. 

First, I’d preheat the oven, grease the glass pie plate and softly press the dough that had been rising for the past few hours into the corners. I liked to make a deep-dish pie, it was my husband's favorite.

Though he wasn’t eating Apple Pie very much anymore.

Usually, I’d make about five pies, wrap them delicately and submit one for the pie contest and stack the rest on the table for the masses to devour.

My pies always went first.

The community picnic was always at the Clubhouse. It was a fancy place, one where you felt the urge to wear something nicer than usual. A a member of an adults only community, it sported a full open bar and wide spaces to socialize.

Today, being community picnic day, I picked a lovely summer dress, one that came down right above my knees and was generously cut.

I joined the excited group of people headed toward the Clubhouse and listened in on the conversations around me.

“I hope we’re going to see him again today…”

“... the pies are really good.”

“Brendan is making the hot dogs today, but I’m more of a burger guy.”

“Think the baby will make it this year?”

I smiled slightly at the last thought. Would "The Baby" make it this year? That was a good question. He didn’t make it during the holiday party or the halloween party before that.

But that was for design, it was by our design. A design that he deserved.

The head of the PTA stepped forward and took the mic in front of the grassy area outside and thanked everyone for coming. After awarding me another blue ribbon for my perfect pie, she then handed out the community service award, thanked Eddie for being a fantastic grill master and proceeded to make a few community announcements.

People nodded politely and clapped, but we knew what they were waiting for.

The moment.

“Thanks Gerald and the community service team for their help repainting the sidewalk signs. They’ve been a great help for delivery drivers and package deliveries.” Mary smiled as the audience clapped once more. It was finally time.

“Now for the moment we have all been waiting for. It’s time to discuss The Payment.”

The audience began to clap.

Mary held up a hand. “Settle down everyone, everyone will get their time. But we probably should hear from the woman of the hour.”

Everyone turned and faced me.

I smiled to the audience and slowly walked up to the front of the group and accepted the microphone from Mary. Everyone clapped politely.

“You all remember the story by now. It’s been nearly a year since we discovered what Derick was doing.” The audience nodded eagerly.

They loved this story.

We had discovered Derrick, my husband, had been stepping out on my marriage a year ago. All the signs had been there, he had been coming home late, started locking his phone and began to act awfully suspicious at the dinner table. When I followed him late one night when he was returning back to work for a “late night meeting” he proceeded to head to Natalie’s house next door.

Natalie was single and had just moved into the neighborhood. I hadn’t yet met her, I had been intending to meet her. But work was just depressingly busy. I spent hours in front of my computer, coding and building designs for websites I knew I’d never use in my life.

But I had to be sure.

So for the next month, I watched over and over as my husband went next door and pumped and dumped. And I watched as my husband had less interest in sleeping with me.

After a month of this, I walked straight to Natalie’s house and introduced myself.

To say she was shocked was an understatement. But the best part was that my husband was upstairs at that very moment, huddled under the covers in hopes that I wound’t walk up the stairs and find him in the bed.

But I marched right past Natalie and into the bedroom and told him that he would regret the day he cheated on me.

I had to admit, I felt bad for Natalie. She didn’t know he was married. But also, as I stood there looking down at the man who was hiding under the covers, all I saw was a pathetic little boy. I felt disgusted that I was ever attracted to him. He looked like a child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

And that’s when I had the idea. I would humiliate him the way he humiliated me.

Which is why we are where we are today.

“Are we ready to bring him out?” I asked the crowd with glee.

Everyone cheered and nodded.

“Bring out the baby.”

This was always the most dramatic part. The doors of the clubhouse swung open and out walked a group of giggling people who were pushing a large glass cube. But it wasn’t the cube that mattered, it was what’s inside that counted.

Inside sat a man who didn’t look quite like a man anymore. Sure he was in shape, the daily, public workouts in the playroom helped. But as he sat there on the floor of the cube, his outfit took any hint tht he was a man away.

Lodged in his mouth was a blue rubber pacifier. The baby man clutched a teddy bear in his muscled arms as he looked down at the floor of his transparent prison. The man was wearing a onesie that said Mommies Little Boy that snapped shut between his legs. What was fascinating was tha the onesie appeared to be barley holing on. The snaps strainted aggressively under the tension caused by the thick diaper that poked out from between his legs. To be clear, it wasn’t just the diaper that bulged from between his legs, it was underneath a pair of transparent plastic pants. I was surprised the onesie buttons had not been completely destroyed yet.

They came to a stop in front of the entire picnic community and one of the people pushing the transparent pen, opened the side door.

“Come on out baby,” she said coaxing him forward. “Crawl on over.”

My husband paused for a moment and then moved forward. We had long ago regulated the baby to only use his hands and knees when he moves around the community so this time was no different. I chucked slightly as he moved. His giant, crinkly diapered ass swayed back and forth as he moved. It was an infantile walk, one that made certain that the baby knew his place in the world while he served his time.

Finally, the baby came to a stop in front of me and he looked up into my eyes.

He was crying because he didn’t want to face what he knew was coming next.

The Payment.

“Are you ready to make the payment?” I asked my husband.

The man was trembling at this point. Shakikng at the mention of the word. I pulled the pacifier out of his mouth.

“Please, I’ve learned my lesson.” He said stretching his mouth now that he was free from the pacifier. “Don’t make me do this again.”

I shook my head. “You must pay for what you did.” I rolled my eyes and motioned for the team to continue.

And the man started to cry. “But I can’t help it!”

But he had no choice in what was going to happen next, he was the one being punished after all. Punished for cheating on me. Punished for using his penis like a fucking horny child and spilling his seed where it did not belong.

Natalie walked forward and had him lay down. 

He was used to this by now. 

Flat on his back, my husband wiggled as she unsnapped his onesie and proceed to do the same with the plastic pants between his legs.

I watched as he took deep breaths no doubt trying to focus his mind elsewhere.

The diaper between his legs was discolored from the urine that had soaked the padding from several hours of wetting. No doubt this man handn’t had anything dry between his legs in a while. He hadn’t had anything hard between his legs either.

When Natalie pulled the diaper from between his legs, the audience started laughing. This was always the funny part. Between his legs, his penis was held down by a chastity cage. Two inches in length, the cage pointed down, ensuring the baby could not get an erection. The device was 100% effective. The baby was not, under any circumstances getting hard while the device squeezed the life out of his little penis.

We had taken the time to get him fitted with the most snug chastity cage possible. It was critical that my husband only use his penis when I allow it. The wonderful thing was that thanks to this magical device, my husbands little pecker was only going to be useful for one thing: Wetting his diaper.

But we were not under any illusions of the reality of the situation. Men need to cum every now and then, and my husband was no different. With men, their sex drives guide many of thier decisions. It’s why they cheat. It why he was fuckng Natalie, telling him that he was single when he wasn’t. Deceiving her.

Which is why what happened next was so cruel.

Natalie pulled out a key from her purse and placed it into the padlock that was keeping the cage shut. She paused for a moment, looking at my husband in the eyes before turing the key and pulling off the cage.

She had a tug a few times, to get the cage off, but eventually it was free. As she worked, I explained to the audience what was going on.

“The rules are simple. My husband has to learn to control himself so he can prove to me that he’s rehabilitated. I need to know that he is not going to get unauthorized erections and chace after any new woman who moves in down the block.” I glared in his direction for a moment. He refused to meet my gaze.

“As an adult, he should be able to control his inhibitions or he is doomed to repeat the same offence that got him into this position.”

The men in the audience looked on sympathetically. They knew what was going to happen. It happened every time.

The entire area was quiet as everyone watched. For a second, I thought maybe my husband had learned to control himself. But slowly, as the room watched, without fail, my husband's limp penis grew rapidly into a raging hard erection.

I shook my head in disappointment. “Seems like he hasn’t learned his lesson.” I used mock pity in my voice as Natalie echoed my sentiment.

“I think then we know what needs to happen,” I said this with bitter disappointment in my voice.

My husband's cry almost broke my ears. But he is the one who cheated. Sticking his pathetic penis where it didn’t belong.

Natalie helped the baby man get get on all fours as I put on a pair of gloves and lubed up my hand. Without warning, I plunged my fingers deep inside of him.

He almost fell over at that quick reaction, but instead of falling he just whimpered. Natalie placed a pacifier back into his mouth to stop him from making too much noise.

As I milked the former man, he stayed on all fours as the audience murmured to themselves. The first time I had done this in the adults only community, there had been some negative reactions from the men, saying this wasn’t fair, that no man could hold an erection. They weren’t in their control, they insisted.

After I suggested that I could start handing out chastity cages to everyone’s wives, they shut up pretty quickly.

The diapers and baby attire had been Natalie’s idea. She’d insisted that if my husband didn’t feel like a man, maybe he wouldn’t act like one.

So far, the theory has not worked. Which is why my husband was now pathetically leaking cum onto the open diaper beneath him while on all fours at the community picnic.

He cried as this happened. This was not what he was expecting when I walked in on him. He begged me not to divorce him, insisting that he could change. He promised me he would behave if I just gave him a second chance. When I told him what Natalie and I had in store for him, I think he assumed it would just be early bedtimes, supervised outings until I got bored.

What he didn’t realize was that he’d be leaving my house and moving into the Clubhouse. Natalie had moved quickly. Setting up the nursery in the glass room in the center of the building. I did find it a bit odd that she just had the supplies ready to go.

But the next morning I had arrived at the Glass Nursery to find my husband banging on the plexiglass demanding to be let out. It was funny, seeing his diaper drooping down between his legs after his first full night there. He had clearly soiled himself and was now throwing a tantrum like a petulant toddler. He looked like a baby.

All week the community wives marched their husbands into the center one by one to show them what could happen if they were out of line. A few of the men looked at my husband in pitty especially the first time Natalie gave him his diaper change in full view of everyone.

The cage was my idea.

During one of his diaper changes, my husband had the audacity to get a hard on. I told him that day he was going to learn to control himself in front of Natalie and that until he did he wasn’t going to escape this baby hell we’d put him in.

The first time I put him in his cage, one that was four inches in length, he cried all night. He said it hurt. He said he needed more room. I explained to him if he stopped getting errections at inappropriate times, his pain would obviously stop.

My husband got grumpy after that.

One night Natalie and I were babysitting with another woman who lived down the lane, when she mentioned she had conducted one of his man diaper changes on the poor baby and that there was some sort of clear thick mucus like substance in his diaper.

We were shocked.

Did she forget to lock him up and he’d had an unauthorized orgasm? We had learned the hard way that men would find any way to get off, even fighting through the humiliation of the thick, crinkly diaper. We installed a 24-hour camera in the glass nursery to mitigate that. But it happened again and he hadn’t spent too much time pawing at his diaper.

So we started the milkings. We could drain him of his bad boy joice and leave him so empty that he would not be able to cum if he wanted too.

After the first month, we told him that we’d give him a chance to see if he learned his lesson. But on queue, the moment Natalie pulled off his diaper, his erection nearly poked her in the eye. So the cage went back on.

It was my idea to start swapping the cages.

After my husbands milking, he was told he could try again in 90 day when he learned to control himself. He was sobbing at this point, because he knew what was coming.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out another chastity cage. This cage, a smaller one in cage, would squeeze him tightly and remind him that his erections were mine. Natalie and I had been slowly shrinking the size of the cage every ninety days to ensure he had motivation to focus on his rehabilitation. To focus on his payment. He was coming awfully close to gatting a cage that was nano sized if he couldn’t meet his deadline, stacking the humiliation even further.

It took some ice and some twisting, but soon the cage was pushed into place. My husband sniffed a few times as Natalie tugged the soiled, cum stained diaper back into place and ushered the defeated man back to the cage. She patted him on his diapered rear as he entered the glass pen and the door was shut behind him. 

Maybe in 90 days he would learn not to have unauthroized erections. Maybe not. Either way, my pie won first prize that day, and my husband sat in his wet diaper, woeing the day he decided to break my trust.