Another Season is Upon Us [Tier 3] (Patreon)

“Ladies. Another season is almost upon us. I trust that you’re all prepared?”

The three women that Susan was addressing–Lynn, Maggie, and Dee–all smiled and nodded. They each held up a flute of champagne and brought them to a center point, where they all clinked together.

===

Susan didn’t just decide, one day, to be pissed at the concept of football. No, this was the culmination of years of watching how Reed carried himself at this time of the year.

For Reed Matthews, football–American football, with its broad shoulder pads, helmets, and violent tackles–was life. It had always been this way, and would likely continue to be this way until the end. It was, at times, almost charming how excitedly boyish he got about grown men charging towards each other on a very expensive looking field.

The problem with Reed’s obsession, however, was just how dedicated he was to it. From September to January, it was all football, all the time. If he wasn’t watching a game, he was watching men talk about the game. If he was in the car, he was listening to podcasts about it. If his phone was in his hands, he was reading about it.

Sundays were off limits for making plans. And Monday nights. Sometimes Thursdays and Saturdays too. Early on, Reed could occasionally drag himself away from the TV on one of those sacred days if he really had to. But–and maybe this part was her fault, for allowing it to happen–he began to make it clear that if there was something else going on while football was happening, he just wouldn’t be involved. As a result, Reed began to miss things. It was a lot of trivial and everyday things like shopping and visiting with family–but it was a lot of events, both big and small, too. Birthday parties. Dinners. Weddings. Anniversary celebrations. Even, once or twice, a funeral.

It had been Susan’s Uncle Ted’s funeral that might have finally pushed her a little too far. Not only had she been close to Uncle Ted–but Reed himself had been close to the guy. Ted, too, was a ‘football nut,’ and he was a frequent Sunday-visitor, bringing a bucket of local hot wings with him every time.

Not even Ted’s funeral could get Reed off the couch. “It’s a big game,” he had said. “Ted’d be pissed if I didn’t watch it. You could say that I’m paying my respect to him in my own way.”

A recurring dark little fantasy of hers reared its head again. The one where she imagined her husband sipping on a baby bottle and pissing himself in a giant diaper.

“I just figured that if he wanted to live an infantilized life during the football season,” she imagined herself saying to her friends, “we might as well go all the way with it.”

She had even tried to explain to Reed, once, how she thought he had a seasonal bout of infantilism–where he expected to be fed and libated every so often while he sat in one place and stared at the TV. He thought she was being dramatic.

“It’s not like you have to burp me and change my diapers,” he shrugged.

No, she thought. Not yet.

===

“I think Danny is actually kind of excited about it,” Lynn said. “Like…I don’t know that he loves it yet, but I think he remembers how much I liked it last year. And you know how little boys are–they love to make their mommy happy.”

All the women laughed at this.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s growing on Chad too,” Dee said. “He asked me, the other day, if we were doing the ‘diaper thing’ again this year.”

“And what did he say when you confirmed you were?” asked Susan.

“Oh, he had this cute little pout on his face, but he didn’t complain. At least…not out loud.”

“Believe me, he’s complaining about it,” Susan nodded. “He was over at the house the other day, and I overheard him and Reed talking about it in the garage. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but I definitely heard the words: emasculating, humiliating, and ridiculous.”

This was met with more laughter from everyone.

“I say–let him complain,” Susan continued. “It’s not going to stop him from being put in his place.”

“What about you, Maggie?” Lynn asked. “I know it’ll be Brent’s first season with diapers. How’s he taking it?”

Maggie sighed dramatically, conjuring a few more giggles from the others. “Well…it’s going to happen. But I’m not going to lie, it was tough to get him to agree to it.”

“But it’s happening?” asked Susan.

Maggie nodded. “Oh yeah. It’s happening.”

Everyone laughed and cheered at this. The wine bottle made another lap around the room–topping off everyone’s glass.

“Actually,” Dee said to Susan, sipping her chardonnay, “I keep meaning to ask this: How did this whole thing get started, anyway? I mean, it’s amazing that it works, but it seems like a very…er, strange thing to just stumble into. And I doubt it was Reed’s idea in the first place.”

“Yeah,” Lynn nodded. “Is this all your idea? Because I don’t think I could’ve thought of that on my own.”

“Actually, it’s kind of funny,” Susan shrugged. “I got my inspiration from a conversation I had with his own mother, of all people.”

===

Susan had heard a thousand horror stories about her friends clashing with their parents-in-law, but she considered herself lucky that she never had any issues with Reed’s mother, Ellen. If anything, she swore that Ellen liked her more than her own son.

“You sound frustrated,” Ellen said on the phone one afternoon, a few days after the funeral incident. “My Reed isn’t being a pain in your ass, is he?”

“Yes…he can be a real hemorrhoid sometimes,” Susan said, being a little more candid than she might’ve been if she was in a better mood.

Ellen sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. What’s he doing?”

“He’s just…” She thought about it for a moment, hesitant to air all of her dirty laundry to Reed’s mother. She tried to simplify it the best she could: “Sometimes, he acts like the entire world just revolves around him, you know?”

“Ah, yes,” Ellen chuckled. “He and his father both.”

“Really?” This was a little surprising to Susan, as Reed’s father, Barney, had always seemed like the model husband to her. He was kind and generous. He was always a step or two behind Ellen so that he could handle anything that she might need. In a lot of ways, Barney was the kind of husband that Susan dreamed Reed would one day become–though that was looking less and less likely.

“I know it might be hard to believe now,” Ellen said. “But there was a time when my Barney was a self-involved little shit.”

Both women laughed at this.

“So…what changed?”

“Well,” Ellen said–and Susan could swear that she could somehow hear Ellen smiling as she spoke, “I just had to train him.”

“Train?” Susan was quite interested.

“Oh yes. Just like a dog. Praise the good behaviors. Beat the bad ones out of him.”

“Beat? Surely you weren’t…”

“No, no,” Ellen said. “I didn’t carry around a belt or a switch or anything like that. But–and I do hope that this stays between you and I, Susan…”

“Yes,” she replied. “Of course.”

“I disciplined Barney in the same way that I disciplined all my children when they misbehaved–a trip over my lap.”

“You…spanked him?”

“Oh yes. And unlike with my children–who could usually learn a lesson from just the threat of a spanking–I really gave it to my husband. Just a barrage of slaps to his backside. I’d keep going until he was crying his eyes out. Then, I’d just sit back and smile as I watched him cautiously take his seat for the next day or two because his bottom was so sore.”

Susan found herself smiling. In fact, she was laughing about the idea. She started to imagine Barney, a grown man, throwing a little fit as he dangled over Ellen’s legs while she spanked him like a toddler. How humiliating. But the more she thought about it, the more she imagined it being Reed instead of Barney who was getting spanked. And it wasn’t Ellen doing the spanking–it was her.

“It worked?” she asked Ellen. “Like…just spanking him?”

“Oh yes. You see the way my Barney acts now, don’t you? He’s like a saint. You better believe I beat that behavior right into him.”

“Amazing,” Susan said, shaking her head.

“They say you shouldn’t spank children anymore,” Ellen sighed. “Fair enough. But I’ve yet to see any research that says you shouldn’t spank your husband.”

===

“Oh,” Maggie said, her eyes wide and filled with curiosity. “So…your mother-in-law didn’t even recommend the diapers. She was just talking about the, uh, spanking?”

“Right,” Susan nodded. “The diapers…they came later. But that wouldn’t have happened without the spanking–and I have Ellen to thank for that.”

“I…I don’t know if I could spank Brent,” Maggie said, her cheeks turning bright pink.

“Yeah,” Lynn said. “But that’s because you like to be spanked.”

“H-hey…” Maggie frowned. “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

“Oh, come on,” Dee laughed. “You’ve got the most spankable ass in this room. Of course you like to get slapped around.”

“There’s other ways to humiliate your man,” Susan said. “Don’t worry, we can show you a thing or two.”

“And if you like getting spanked,” Lynn added, “We can certainly help with that too.”

Wine glasses were clinked together and the girls, even Maggie, were laughing again.

“Seriously, though,” Dee finally said. “Sue, how the hell did you get to the diaper stuff from just spanking?”

===

The football game had ended. In a loss, apparently–Susan hadn’t looked at the television once, but she could read the room pretty well. The boys were saying their goodbyes, grabbing their hats and jackets and shuffling out the door.

Normally, this would be the part of the night where she’d go around and collect the empty beer cans and paper plates from the coffee table, but she felt that could wait.

“We lost,” Reed shrugged, talking to Susan as if he expected her to care. “The defense was up our ass all night, though. What are you gonna do, you know?”

“Reed...”

“Ah, whatever,” Reed continued. “They’ll be back on their feet next week. We’re still number one in the division–and we’ve got enough of a buffer that we can afford to take an L and still…”

“Reed.”

He paused, realizing that he should’ve been reading her face. She looked concerned. Angry, maybe? “Uh…Susan? Everything okay?”

“No, Reed. Everything is not okay. And, look, your precious football game isn’t on anymore. So I think you can give me some time now, yes?”

“Well…” he slowly stretched his arms out from both of his sides. “I was thinking about heading to bed in a few minutes, but…”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have made it sound like you had a choice in the matter. Let me start over again: You and I are going to have a conversation. Right now.”

“Uh…” He scratched his head. “S-sure. What’s up?”

“Who picked up the beer this morning, Reed?”

He drew in a hesitant breath. “You did. But I was very thankful that you did and…”

“And, Reed? Who picked up all the food for today?”

“You did.”

“And who prepared the food? Set it out?”

“You did.”

“And who does those things every week?”

“You do. But…”

“But what? You may be a selfish oaf who sits on the couch–but I’m the stupid fool who keeps running all these errands for you. And for what? For you to skip birthday parties? Funerals? Are you the one who has to tell your mother that we’re not coming over for Sunday dinner yet again?”

He sighed. “I’m…sorry, Susan. I guess I just didn’t really think about it like that.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you don’t really think of much, do you? Do you even know what today is, Reed?”

“Uh…” He looked around the room, as if the answer was out there somewhere, and all he had to do was spot it.

Amusingly enough, the answer was visible–it was on a greeting card that was hanging from the refrigerator door. The same refrigerator door that he had opened countless times today to get bottles of beer for himself. Still, his eyes disregarded the card as he scanned the area.

“I don’t know what today is,” he shrugged, finally.

She laughed. “It’s our anniversary, Reed.”

“Oh. …shit.”

She thought she’d give him a moment. Maybe he’d like the time to concoct a lie about how he somehow knew that it was their anniversary. Maybe he’d feed her a line about a surprise gift or surprise dinner that would be coming in the next day or two–he’d done that before.

But when he finally spoke again, his eyes were directed at the ground and his voice was soft. “Shit. I’m real sorry about that, Susan. I…fucked up.”

That was something, she thought. She was pleased that he didn’t try to make stupid excuses or just lie. And, this admission was probably going to make everything that came next easier–seeing as how she didn’t have to waste time calling him out on his lies.

“You sure did, Reed. Do you see the problem now?”

He sighed. “I guess. But…what do you want me to do about it? Because you can’t just ask me to give up football when…”

“Well we have to do something, right? And so I’m just wondering what we do about a selfish little toddler who insists on having his way.”

“I…I’m not a…” He started over: “Susan, please let me make this up to you. Anything. What do you want? What can I do to make this better?”

She liked seeing how quickly he crumbled. The big man liked putting his foot down when the ball game was on, but suddenly his backbone was missing when he was getting called out on his shit. She’d love nothing more than to savor this moment for as long as possible.

“You were raised better than this, weren’t you? Your mother wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“M-my mother? What does she have to do with–”

“As it just so happens, I had a good chat with your mother the other day. And she suggested something to me. Something that she thought worked really well when you were a little boy.”

She could see the confusion growing in his pathetic face. His eyes squinted and his whole mouth seemed to tilt curiously as he tried to imagine what she might be talking about. Then: a figurative light bulb turned on above his head and his eyes grew.

“Do you mean…spanking? You talked to my mother and she told you to spank me?”

“She did,” Susan said matter-of-factly. “And I think it’s a great idea.”

“You can’t be serious right now,” he said, scratching his head. “I’m an adult! Y-you’re really thinking that you want to…spank me?”

“Unless you want to sleep on the couch and start finding somewhere else to watch your football games on the weekends, I suggest you start doing exactly what I tell you to.”

He sighed again, shaking his head in disbelief.

She hoped that this would be all it took–a good old fashioned marital guilt trip–to get him over her knees, but she had other cards if they were needed. She’d threaten to cancel their streaming services. She’d cut off his access to the WiFi. She’d threaten to leave him. But hopefully, this was enough.

“Fine,” he finally said after staring at the ground in silence for a good minute or two. “If you really think that, uh, spanking me is going to make things better…”

“Oh, I do,” she said, practically giddy with excitement. “I think it’s going to make things much better.”

“How, uh, do you want to do this, then?”

“Well, I’m going to go sit in that chair over there,” she said, pointing across the room. “And you’re going to lie down over my lap.”

“You gotta be kidding me,” he said, almost to himself. “Really? Like a fucking little kid?”

“Act like a selfish little toddler,” she said, “get treated like a selfish little toddler.”

“Fine,” he hissed again. She had heard such a tone before–usually when she badgered him to mow the lawn or take out the trash and he really didn’t feel like doing it. It was a childish tone, which seemed especially fitting.

She did as she promised she would, and walked to the chair and took a seat. Then, he slowly moped his way over to her and began to lie down over her lap.

“Not yet,” she said. “You’re forgetting something.”

“Hmm?

“Take your pants off, mister. I want my hand to make contact with your bare ass.”

“But…” He stopped himself and didn’t bother continuing that thought. He knew, as he should, that the only way out of this now would be to follow all of her directions.

With a final sigh, he fumbled with his belt and unzipped his pants. Then, he pushed his pants and boxers down his legs–only needing to manually move them to his knees before gravity took them the rest of the way.

She had seen his manhood plenty of times, but there was something different about this moment. Shame hung over him, and his flaccid cock now hung between his legs like a soft piece of pasta.

She patted her lap. “Come on. Over my lap. You know what to do.”

He did, and he slowly lowered himself into position, his pale ass hanging over the edge of her legs.

I’m sure it’s just like old times, she thought. Hell, he probably missed this.

Now, Susan had never spanked someone before. Maybe once or twice she had playfully swatted a sexual partner’s rear end (and, come to think of it, she could recall Reed responding well to having his ass swatted at in bed), but that was nothing like this. This was, like, a formal spanking. An event. A specific kind of punishing ritual.

She might’ve told herself that she didn’t know what to do next, but that was a lie–there was only one thing to do. She lifted her hand high up in the air and let it soar diagonally downwards until her open palm made contact with his ass.

SMACK!

“Oh!” he hollered. She doubted it hurt that much–he was likely just responding to the surprise.

She raised her hand and let it fly again. SMACK! It made such a satisfying sound, a crisp clapping noise. The sound of justice and revenge. Again: SMACK! And then, as if possessed by a hunger she never knew of before, she unleashed an entire volley of slaps onto his jiggling cheeks: CRACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK!

“Oh god,” he muttered to himself, sniffling.

Was he…crying? She couldn’t see his face, but she was quite sure that he was. The little bitch was actually having a little tantrum!

This only seemed to fuel her, and her hand went into another fast round of spanks: SMACK! WHACK! SMACK!

“I…I’m sorry, Mommy,” he blubbered. “Please…no more! I’m truly sorry!”

“What’s that?” she said, her head tilted curiously.

“I…I said that I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said. “That’s not all you said.”

“What else did I…” His voice trails off, and when it finally returns, he only offers a solemn: “Oh.”

“Mommy, was that? Is that how you see me?”

“N-no…”

“Is that how you want to see me?”

“Susan, I…I didn’t mean to call you…”

SMACK!

“Owww,” he whined, sniffling again.

“But what if I like being called ‘Mommy,’ Reed? Will you do it then? If I tell you to?”

He sounds hesitant, but curious: “But…”

“Call me ‘Mommy,” Reed.”

“Y-yes, uh, Mommy.”

It was as easy as that. She only ever had to spank him once, and his true nature was revealed. In the hours that followed–layers of more spankings, talking, and Susan’s sympathetic hand rubbing his sore posterior–they hashed it out.

Yes, he liked being spanked. Probably a lot more than he should. He wasn’t attracted to his mother, per se, but he was attracted to the idea of a powerful woman putting him in his place. Susan had now earned the position of ‘powerful woman.’ Reed confessed that he’d do anything for more. He didn’t care what she wanted, he’d give it to her–he just needed to be kept in his place.

Susan was quite sure she could satisfy that desire. After all, it overlapped with that dark fantasy of hers from a little bit ago–the one where she imagined her husband wetting a diaper and sucking milk out of a baby bottle.

As she rubbed his bright red bottom on the couch, and as his head snuggled against her lap, she thought about how easy it’d probably be to make that fantasy a reality.

===

“Amazing,” Dee said, shaking her head. “You spanked the guy so hard that you turned him into a baby.”

“In hindsight,” Susan said, “I’m not sure that I can take that much responsibility for it. I think, deep down, my husband had always wanted to be a big baby again–he just didn’t know it.”

“But what about you?” Lynn asked. “I mean, obviously, you’re continuing to humor this idea. But there was no point that you saw the big diapers and were, like, ‘I shouldn’t have to deal with this?’”

“I could ask all of you the same thing, couldn’t I?” Susan asked, grinning. “It’s really no different than having an actual baby. Sure, it’s a lot of work–but it’s rewarding work.”

===

A settlement was reached–though both parties had agreed that it was a temporary measure to see how it’d actually work out.

Reed could have his precious football games. He could sit on the couch all day–all weekend–if he had to. He could eat all the junk food and drink all the beer. He could continue having his best friends over to cheer and scream at the TV with.

However, in exchange, he’d be making some sacrifices. The biggest was, of course, his potty privileges. No longer would he be making repeat trips to the toilet to empty his bladder during a game. Instead, he’d be wearing his potty–a thick diaper that Susan herself would see to putting on him before the game, and changing him out of it after. And, should an emergency arise, she’d even change him during the game.

He got what he wanted–football. And she got what she wanted–his dignity.

Diapers were optional on the nights there wasn’t football. Spankings, however, were kept on the schedule for a few nights a week. Even if Reed hadn’t done anything wrong, she still felt it was best that he be reminded of his place regularly. He never once disagreed with this.

The first real test of this new paradigm would come the next Sunday, when all the boys were coming over to watch the game. It was a delight to watch Reed–still adapting to the thick padding between his legs–as he seemed to carefully plan every one of his movements in advance, as to not alert his pals of his thick and crinkly undergarment.

But, for the most part, very little about the day had been different. They drank, they ate, they loudly discussed the failures of the head coaches that they believed they could do better than.

Somewhere in the third quarter, Susan’s ears perked up from the kitchen as she caught some of the conversation in the living room.

“You alright, Reed?” Brent was asking. “You’re usually running to the john two or three times every quarter, and I haven’t seen you get up once.”

“Ah, well…I guess I don’t have to go today.”

“Bullshit,” Chad laughed. “You put away, what, three or four beers today? You pissing your pants or something?”

They all laughed pretty hard about that, though they got distracted quickly by something on the TV.

His friends hadn’t been wrong though–Reed got a lot of grief for his laughably small bladder and his constant trips to the toilet. And while she supposed it was possible that he had been holding his urine this whole time–it was far more likely that he was wearing a completely drenched diaper.

Someone should do something about that, she thought. Someone like his Mommy.

She delivered a fresh bowl of pico to the living room’s coffee table, and took the opportunity to get Reed’s attention. “Honey? Could I get your help with something in the bedroom real quick?”

“Oh, uh… Now?” he asked, his cheeks turning a little pink. “The game is about to start and I think…”

“Right now would be perfect,” she said, trying her hardest to let her tone convey her seriousness to Reed, while remaining perfectly sweet-sounding to the other men.

“Y-yes,” Reed finally said, slowly lifting himself up from the couch. “Coming.”

He didn’t walk–he ran out of the room, almost running Susan over in the hallway. She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bedroom, as if she was a parent towing a small child against their will.

“Everything okay?” she asked when they entered the bedroom, and the door was closed behind them.

“I…I didn’t want them to see me get up,” he said.

“Why?”

“My…pants. My diaper. I wet it too much and I think it’s…leaking.”

She had to hold a hand up to her mouth to stifle a burst of laughter. How wonderfully pathetic. Somehow, she hadn’t considered this possibility. Ah well, a learning opportunity for us both.

Susan took a look at the back of his pants, finding that there was, in fact, a very dark and obvious wet spot on the ass of his jeans. She smiled devilishly behind his back, very much doubting that he’d care to see her satisfaction with this development. Had any of the men seen his pants as he ran away, they probably could’ve guessed what happened. And what of his seat on the couch? There was probably a dark spot there too.

“Poor, poor baby,” she cooed to him. “Did you make a big pee-pee in your pants?”

“I…I’m not a baby,” he protested.

“Are you sure about that? An adult probably wouldn’t be in a diaper in the first place–let alone having wet it as much as you did.”

He scoffed and shook his head, his cheeks bright red. “Can we just…fix this?”

“Fix? Oh, do you mean a diaper change, Reed?”

He sighed. “Yeah, sure. I guess.”

“Well, then you need to tell me that’s what you want.”

“But…you already know what I need, Sue. Can’t you just…”

“Tell me that you need your diaper changed, Reed.”

She expected more hemming and hawing from her husband, but he instead looked into her eyes with an expression of defeat and submission. As he spoke, even his tone seemed soft and compliant: “I…I need my diaper changed.”

She smiled with glee and pointed to the bed. “I know you do, baby. Let’s go. On the bed, on your back. Let’s get you a fresh diaper.”

The diaper change was a piece of cake. Susan, a big sister, a former babysitter, and an aunt, had plenty of experience handling soggy diapers–though a diaper of this size did seem to be a slightly different beast. But at the end of the day, the experience wasn’t that much different than changing the diaper of an infant. In fact, Reed’s passivity and willingness to let her do whatever she wanted made him almost easier to change than some of the bratty toddlers she had contended with in past lives.

“What about my pants,” he asked as Susan pulled the diaper’s final tape into place.

“Well you can’t wear those again,” she shrugged. “You’ll just have to put on a different pair of pants.”

“But…those are the only blue jeans I own. If I put any other pair of pants on…and if they saw the stain in the blue pants…they’ll know…”

She put a single finger to his lips to shush him. She was actually surprised by how well that worked on an adult man. “Those silly boys probably won’t even notice.”

She was right–when Reed waddled out to the living room again in his green pants, nobody else seemed to care. Nobody said anything. Hell, from the other side of the room, Susan could see the damp patch on the couch where Reed had been sitting–and nobody seemed to notice or care about that either.

Unobservant little babies, she thought as she smiled and shook her head. Every single one of them.

===

Lynn swirled the wine around in her glass and smiled wistfully. “You know, I still think about those first photos you sent us. Your darling husband with his pants off and a soggy diaper hanging between his thighs. I remember my first thought being: ‘This is fucking insane!’ But the more I thought about it, the more I loved it.”

“Those photos were from the very first time I made him wear a diaper for football,” Susan said. “Though, that was the second diaper he wore that day–I didn’t get any pictures of the first one he completely soaked through during the game.”

“That’s funny,” Dee shrugged. “I didn’t see the photos you texted us right away, and when Chad came home that night he made this off-handed comment about how he thought Reed might have pissed his pants at one point during the game. I thought he was just joking, so I brushed him off. But then I saw the photos.”

“I still look at those photos,” Maggie nodded. “They’re very inspiring, you know?”

The woman all agreed, nodding and laughing.

“I have to say, I never expected the idea to catch on with the rest of you,” Susan said. “Lynn, I think you were the next to diaper your husband. And, well, it was a big surprise to me when he showed up to our house and his pants were crinkling.”

“Good,” Lynn replied. “I was so tempted to text you in advance to tell you that it was happening, but I just had to see if you noticed for yourself. And, like, you texted me within three minutes of Danny showing up at your house.”

===

There were two babies in the house all of a sudden.

A few weeks after she began putting him in diapers for his football days, Susan wasn’t quite sure that she could say that Reed was ‘used’ to them now, but he seemed to be acclimating well enough. She had begun putting him into diapers after his scheduled spankings–just to give him more time to adjust to them. He was no longer protesting when she took one out, and that certainly felt like progress.

In fact, on the previous Friday night, she was stirred from her sleep to find Reed humping his thick diaper against the mattress. She pretended to be asleep and didn’t interrupt–but it was clear that Reed seemed to be finding perks to his new lifestyle.

It was another Sunday and the boys began rolling in–food and beer in hand. Reed was a little less reserved than he was the last time–walking around more, despite his crinkling diaper under his pants.

But he wasn’t the only one crinkling. She wondered if she’d have even noticed the sound Danny’s pants made if she wasn’t listening for Reed’s–but when she gave Danny a welcoming hug, she heard it immediately. The telltale sound of a thick disposable diaper.

“It’s good to see you,” Susan said to Danny, shooting him a little grin.

He blushed. “Uh, yeah, and good to see you too.”

Susan immediately hustled to the kitchen where she fired off a text message to Lynn: “Excuse me–did you just send your husband to my house in a diaper???”

Lynn’s response came incredibly fast, as if Lynn had been waiting at her phone for such a text. “I thought you might appreciate that. I thought you had such a good idea, that I couldn’t help but try it out myself.”

“Well, are you expecting me to change HIS diaper too?”

“No, no,” Lynn texted. “I mean…I told him that if there was an emergency, he should come talk to you… But otherwise, I plan on taking care of his diaper when he gets home.”

As badly as Susan wanted to make a comment about it to either Danny or Reed, she kept it to herself. Instead, she wanted to just observe the room. She wondered if Reed would notice on his own. She had to assume that Danny was already well aware of Reed’s diaper–Lynn probably mentioned it as she forced one onto him.

The four men carried on like it was just another Sunday. Reed was the de facto leader of the group–the king of the domain that they were all guests within–though he seemed a little less sure of himself on this particular day. Danny had that nervous look on his face that Reed did a few weeks ago–paranoid and scared that his diaper might be detected. Chad and Brent seemed as oblivious as ever, carrying on like usual.

For now. She knew their day would come eventually.

During halftime of the day’s first game, the group dispersed in different directions. Brent needed to fix himself a sandwich. Chad needed to go out and smoke (though he claimed–as he had for the last year–that he’d be quitting soon). Danny stayed motionless in his seat, insisting that he was good right where he was–leading Susan to wonder if his diaper was a little swampy and he didn’t want anyone to see.

Which left Reed, who approached her in the hallway.

“I, uhm, need to be changed.”

“I thought so,” Susan nodded. “Pretty wet?”

“Y-yeah…” He looked like he had something else to say, but he couldn’t quite get it out.

“Come on,” she said, once more taking him by the hand and guiding him to the bedroom.

Once there, he started towards the bed, already trained to get into the proper diaper-change position.

“Hold on,” she said, stopping him in his tracks. “Was there something else you needed to tell me?”

“Huh? I…”

“Please, Reed. I know when you’ve got something weighing heavily on your mind.”

“Oh, well… It’s just…” He sighed and shrugged–a gesture that seemed to say: ‘Well, you can guess, right?’

“I can’t read your mind,” she said. She thought that she might, actually, be able to–but she’d keep that to herself. It was always better to have him just say it.

“I know I’m supposed to be using my diaper, Sue. But…I really need the toilet.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You said it yourself, darling. You’re supposed to be using your diaper.”

“But…”

“What? What is it, Reed. Use your words–or is that too hard for a baby like you?”

“I wet myself,” he said. “But…that’s not all that I have to do.”

She grinned. “Uh huh. And what else is there for you to do?”

“D-don’t make me say it, Sue.”

“I need to hear you say it. I need you to tell me. I don’t want to just assume.”

He sighed and looked down towards the ground. “Sue…I have to, uhm, poop.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding her head. “I’m surprised it took us this long to get to this point. Well…I hate to be the bearer of bad news, baby–but this is exactly what your diapers are for.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “Y-you can’t be serious, Sue. I can’t…shit myself. All my friends are out there, on the other side of this room!”

“Well, I’m feeling generous, so I’d at least allow you to squat down, right now, and fill up your diaper for me. And then, when you’re done, I’ll clean you up and send you on your way again. Or, if you’d rather, I’ll just send you back out there in your soaking wet diaper without a change, and we’ll see if you can make it through the rest of the game without pushing a stinky mess into your pants.”

“But…Sue…I-I can’t…” His voice became more and more hopeless, and she could just hear him gradually losing the last of the fight he had in him. At last, he shrugged–surrendering to her desires. She’d always get her way. He finally sighed and spoke again: “So…what do I do? Just…”

“Take off your pants,” she said.

He did.

“I think you know how to poop, right?”

He scoffed at this.

“Because that’s all you really need to do,” she said. “It’s not hard. Just poop your diaper.”

Reed had nothing to say in response to that, as it was clear that he had already accepted his fate. It didn’t have to be said: the sooner he had finished this, the sooner he could be changed, and the sooner he could be back out with the rest of the guys in a clean diaper–maybe even before the third quarter kicked off.

It was quite amusing to watch Reed trying to figure out the logistics of pushing a load into this diaper. He stood completely straight and made a grunting noise as he pushed, only to find that the position wasn’t working for him. He bent himself over the side of the bed, and he even tried sitting. Finally, he figured it out–what Susan had suggested in the first place–squatting. His legs spaced apart and his legs bent, he groaned and pushed. Soon, there was a new sound coming from inside his diaper–wet farts, accompanied by crackling and squelching.

It was really happening. For as inevitable as the moment seemed, Susan was still amazed that she was actually watching her husband poop in a diaper. She scurried behind him so that she could watch the back of the padding expand and finally droop further between his legs. The smell came almost immediately after–a foul odor that only a mother (or a wife posing as a mother could love).

She probably would never tell Reed this–but the very sight of him in this position made her pussy incredibly wet.

“I, uhm, think I’m done,” he said.

“Yeah? All pooped out?”

“Yes…”

“What a good little boy.”

He couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile–betraying the frustrated exterior he was trying to maintain.

“Now then,” she said. “Let’s get you on the bed and change that diaper, okay? Before you know it, you’ll be back out there amongst your friends–eating the snacks and drinking the beer that you’ll end up depositing into your diaper again later.”

And, as a little reward for him filling his pants for her, she tugged at his cock until it became hard in his messy diaper. She wondered if it’d be awkward for him to cum while his bottom was so filthy–but he didn’t seem to have any problem with it.

===

“Right, then,” Susan said. “Do we have everything we need?”

“I got lots of extra diapers,” Lynn said.

“I got baby powder, wipes, and even some rash ointment,” Dee said.

“Perfect,” Susan replied. “And good call on that ointment. I swear, Danny got a diaper rash every week last season.”

Lynn sighed. “He needs to be less bashful about asking for a diaper change. I’d like to think he’s learned his lesson though.”

“Maggie?” asked Dee. “How’d your supply run go?”

“Pretty good,” she smiled. “I got baby bottles, sippy cups and pacifiers. And, well, I couldn’t help myself when I saw these cute little baby forks and spoons, so I got a bunch of those too.”

“Wow,” Lynn said. “I think we’re ready to go then, huh?”

===

Slowly, but surely, everything fell into place. It started with Reed, and then Danny came next. That was it in that first season.

By the next season, Dee had convinced Chad to start wearing diapers when he went to Reed’s house to watch football. Brent would be the last one–though Maggie insisted that he’d be entering the next season well-padded too.

It was hard to say why it worked as well as it did. Perhaps the wives were all just incredibly convincing in their arguments to their husbands. Perhaps the men felt obligated to make great sacrifices–considering how much time they’d taken from their wives to give to a sport. Or, maybe, the men just realized how much happier they were–and, in turn, how much happier their wives were–when they embraced their more infantile side.

But being a baby wasn’t entirely about emasculation and humiliation. Babies were precious things, and had to be cared for. The women were more than happy to tend to their men’s every need. When the bottles and sippy cups were dry, they’d get filled. When the snacks were low, they’d get replenished. When a putrid odor was detected, everyone got their diaper checked, with the offending baby getting hauled away for a change.

===

In the living room, the men talked and pointed at the TV excitedly.

“Can you freaking believe it?” Chad asked. “Kolchak is out again with a bad ankle. They say he might be out the whole season.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Brent said, taking a swig from his pink Barbie-themed sippy cup. “They don’t need him. They’ve still got Waters, and that guy can carry the whole team on his back.”

“Are you kidding me,” Reed blurted out, his pacifier tumbling from his mouth and rolling down his chest. “Last week Waters got destroyed against Miami.”

Meanwhile, from the kitchen, the women watched the scene unfold with big smiles on their faces.

“Look at them,” Lynn gushed. “They’re so cute when they try to act like big boys.”

“If they keep working themselves up like this,” Susan said, “they’re definitely going to need to be put down for a nap after the game.”

“Danny might already be working on that,” Maggie said, her outstretched finger pointing to where Danny was dozing in the recliner, one of his hands fed into the front of his pants and remained resting on his diaper.

The women laughed at this, as Lynn snapped a picture of the snoring baby with her phone.

“Oh, I meant to tell you all,” Dee said. “I got a new changing mat the other day. I figure, this way, we can start changing diapers right on the floor in the living room. The boys might get all blushy about that…but that way they wouldn’t have to miss any of the game.”

“What an excellent idea,” Susan said. “And I might just want to give it a test run in a few minutes–Reed’s got that look on his face like he’s about to make a very dirty diaper.”

“Have fun with that,” Maggie chuckled.

“Don’t laugh too hard, Mags,” Lynn said, elbowing her playfully. “Sooner or later you’ll be wiping up a messy bottom yourself.”

“Hell, after Reed does his deed, I think you ought to come help me change him,”

Maggie grimaced, clearly not happy with that idea. Still, she nodded: “Sure thing. It’s probably not a bad thing to learn how to do. I’m still not all that great in my diaper-changing abilities.”

“Let the master show you a thing or two,” Dee said. “Sue will make you an expert in no time at all. And, well, I’m sure Reed won’t mind two lovely ladies doting over his stinky bottom.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Lynn, standing in the doorway. “I…I think it’s happening! His face is all red! He’s grunting!” She needed to pause for a moment so she could giggle to herself. Finally, she continued: “Well, the other boys are sliding away from him–so I think it’s safe to say that he’s put a good load into his pants.”

“Well?” Susan asked Maggie. “Looks like we’re on. Ready?”

“Absolutely,” Maggie said, following Susan out of the kitchen and into the living room, grabbing the new changing pad on the way.

“God, I love this time of year,” Dee said to Lynn when it was just the two of them.

“I almost wish it never ended,” Lynn said.

“Well…Chad has been talking about watching more baseball next year. That starts in the spring, right?”