MIster Mike - Chapter 3

The Domination of Mister Mike

By Karen Singer

Chapter 3

“Are you wet yet?”

“No.”

“Don’t forget,” she said, “I’m waiting to see.”

“Most likely, there won’t be anything to see at all,” I told her.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m wearing two layers of diapers.”

“Two?”

“So they absorb better!”  I didn’t bother telling her that the main reason was that I enjoyed the bulk. 

“Oh.  Hey.  That’s pretty good.”

“And besides,” I said.  “These pantyhose will probably hide a lot of it anyway.”

“I hope not!”

I stood there with my diapers, hose, and locked-on heels on full display as I stared at the microwave counting down the time on a microwave dinner I had put in for her.  I had been cold, so I put my sweatshirt back on.  But when I did, she again threatened to take the lock keys over to Chris next door if I covered up anything but my bra.  I can’t tell you how foolish I felt standing there in front of her dressed the way I was. 

The microwave finally dinged and I pulled her dinner out and set it down on a plate.  I stuck my dinner in and set the timer.  When I looked over at her, she was barely paying any attention to me at all, and I could see how troubled she looked.  I left her alone.  She might look troubled, but she could be far more trouble herself!  While I waited for the microwave again, I dished her dinner out onto the plate for her and brought it to the table.  I set it down in front of her, but I’m not sure she even noticed.  She was looking out at the darkness through the back window instead.  I said nothing.

I grabbed two cans of soda and gave her one, setting the other one on the opposite side of the table for me.  She still didn’t seem to even notice me, which was all for the best as far as I was concerned.  The microwave finally dinged again and I saw her body jerk a little at the sound, then go right back to staring out of the window.  I didn’t bother pulling my own dinner out of the plastic tray.  I just set it on top of a plate and carried it to the table, where I sat across from her on my well-padded bottom.  She still stared moodily out the window.  I watched her and ate in silence.

“Stupid bastard!” she muttered a few minutes later without turning from the window.  It was another few moments before she spoke again.  “How the hell am I supposed to give him that much money?”  She finally turned to me.  “Most of the time I only work three days a week.  That’s thirty six hours.  That’s all!  And trust me, I don’t make very much money to begin with.  And I haven’t been able to go back to school yet to get a better certification.  So how the hell can he think I can afford to do more than I am?  He’s crazy!  Stupid!  A big damn bastard!  All he cares about is himself!”

I remembered that Chris had said pretty much the same thing about her earlier.  “So are you going to go back and talk to him now?”

She looked at me like I was crazy.  “Talk?  About what?”

“Making up with him.  Getting on with your lives?”

“Oh…hell no!  I’m done with him.  No more!”

It wasn’t what I wanted to hear.  “So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged.  “Sleep here tonight.  I have to work tomorrow.  I’ll talk to a few friends and see if any of them will let me stay with them.  I have a few I can ask that might help me.”  I saw her face grow more troubled.  “I guess I have to go back over there tonight, like it or not.”

“What for?”

“My purse and everything I need for tomorrow is there.  My keys, my cell phone, my scrubs.  Everything!”

“You don’t want to try to talk it out with him and just go home tonight?”

She looked at me angrily.  “I said I didn’t!  If you ever want those keys back again, then don’t ever mention me going back with that shit-head again.”

I had lots of things I could have said, but not only did I need those keys…soon…I had a feeling that she wouldn’t listen to me anyway. 

She finally picked up her fork and began eating, only looking at her plate and nothing else.  “Are you wet yet?”

“No!”

A little while later, I watched as she walked out the front door.  Would she tell Chris?  Would she show him the keys?  I had asked again for the keys before she left, and she only got angry at me again.  I had enough troubles already.  I didn’t need her to make matters even worse for me.

When she wasn’t back fifteen minutes later, I really started to worry.  Not knowing what to do, I braved going out into the cold on my back screened-in porch.  It was doubtful that anyone could see me there, especially in the dark, but I stayed very close to the door anyway.  And even from there I could hear them yelling at each other.  Once again I had to wonder how they had managed to stay together so long.  I could hear them yelling, but I could understand very little of what was being said.  The only thing I could tell for certain, was that they weren’t exactly getting along or even trying to understand each other’s point of view.  Five minutes later, the yelling stopped.  I went back into the house. 

My front door opened shortly after and she came in with her arms loaded.  “How’d it go?” I asked, not wanting to let her know I had heard them arguing again.

“Bastard!  Dick-head!  Butt-face! I never want to see that shit-head again!” 

I watched as she stomped off to the guest bedroom.  From the way things had gone, I thought I was fairly safe that she hadn’t told Chris about me.  I turned the TV on and sat down, resting my pointy heels on the floor in front of me and enjoying the strange sensation of rocking them back and forth on the tips of the heels.  Of course, I was also enjoying the erotic sensation of the diapers I was wearing and the tight pantyhose that kept them pressed against me, and I was even enjoying the feel of the bra I still had on under my sweatshirt.  But mostly I was finding the fact that right now there was no way I could get those shoes off, even if I wanted to, to be awfully exciting.  I just dared not let her know that.  Fortunately, she wasn’t in the room just then.

I heard her go into the bathroom, then come out again a few minutes later.  “Are you wet yet?” she asked as she came into the living room.

“No.”

“Well get busy!”

I would have said no again, but I didn’t bother. 

We sat and watched TV, although she spent most of her time texting on her phone.  I only hoped it wasn’t about me.  But right then, I was sure she was too preoccupied with Chris and any of the other colorful names she had for him. 

I was suddenly aware that I was going to have to pee.  I held back and didn’t let her know.  During one of the commercial breaks, I got up. 

“Don’t you dare go into the bathroom!” she said fairly threateningly.

“Why not?  What if I have to go?”

“Then do it in your diaper!”

“What if I have to do…something else?”

She looked up at me.  “Shit head.  Do you know how many times I’ve had to clean up messy bottoms in the hospital from people who are in comas or have other problems?”

“Are you saying you’re going to change me when I need it?”

“Not on your life!  Don’t even think it!”

“Then what’s your point?”

“If they can do it, then so can you!”

So much for that idea.  I sat back down.

“Are you wet yet?”

“No.”

When the show ended, she got up.  “Can I use your computer?  I need to put in my schedule request for the week after next.”

“Your schedule request?”

“Yeah.  I usually do it as soon as I get home on Fridays, but…you know who, got in the way.  It’s kind of first come, first serve.  The first ones to put in for what days they want to work that week usually get it, and then they fill in with all the others after that.  Of course, sometimes even then we don’t always get it, but more often than not, it works out.”

“Oh.  Okay,” I said.  I got up and headed for my office. 

“So are you wet yet?” she asked again.

“Not yet,” I replied. 

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not.”

“Well when will you be?”

“How should I know?”  Actually, at that point I had to go pretty bad.  I just didn’t want her to know.

“Well just don’t forget to tell me when you are.”

“Don’t worry,” I said as I pushed the button on my computer to get it started. 

“I still can’t believe you built this,” she said as she stood there looking at my desk. 

“Yeah,” I said proudly.  “I think it’s my best piece so far.  I’m building another piece to match it right now to hold my printer.  I’m going to put it at the end so it kind of extends the desk a bit.”

“Cool,” she said as she looked around.  “And you built these bookshelves too?”

“Yeah.  They were the first projects I tackled after I moved in.”

“Nice,” she said as she turned away and looked back at my computer.

A minute later, I had logged in and I watched as she brought up my web browser and started logging into her hospital account.  It looked like there was a lot of stuff there for her go through and it was going to take her a while, so I left and went back to the living room.  I stood in front of my chair and allowed myself to flood my diapers.  Fun!  Such a lovely humiliating feeling.  And afterwards, when everything was all wet, it was almost as good.  With my diapers now nicely soaked, I gingerly sat down to watch the next show on TV.

She was in my office for a much longer time than I expected before she finally came out.  And when she did she immediately asked, “So how come most of your web favorites have the word humiliation in them?”

I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say for a moment.  “You looked at my favorites?  Why?”

“Well, I saved the hospital’s web-site to your Favorites folder, and then when I looked to make sure it was there, I saw all the junk you had in there.  So how come most of your favorites say something about humiliation in the title?”

“But that’s my computer!  Why would you save your site to my computer?”

“Oh.  Well I did it in case I ever needed it again.  That way it’s already there and it’s a lot easier.”

“But you’re leaving.  Remember?  You’re moving.”

“Oh.  I forgot.  But this way, it’s already there, just in case.”

I shook my head, not believing she would do something like that.

“So why does everything say humiliation?”

I gave her a very nasty look.  “Figure it out!” I said angrily.

She laughed.  “Because you like it?”

All I did was to glare angrily at her for a moment, then look away. 

“So you love humiliation?” she said.  “Or is it more like…that you love being humiliated?”

I didn’t answer right away.  I did my angry glaring thing at her again, then said, “I don’t like being anything!  I just like reading about it.”

“And looking at the pictures,” she said.

“What?”

“Well, there’s lots of pictures in there.  Mostly pictures.”

“You opened them to look?”

“Just a few,” she replied.  “My God!  There’s so many.”

I shook my head angrily as I looked away from her. 

“So you do like being humiliated,” she said all too delightedly.

“No.  Like I told you, I just like reading about it…sometimes.”

She laughed.  “And looking at the pictures,” she pointed out.  “And since you’ve got those shoe lock things, then I guess you pretty much do like being humiliated!”  She started laughing, and all I could do was to glare angrily at her. 

“So are you wet yet?” she asked.  “‘Cause I’m sure that’s got to be pretty humiliating too.”

I refused to answer, and looked away from her.

“So are you wet yet?” she asked again. 

I refused to look at her.  “Yesss!” I hissed, the frustration clearly in my voice.

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“You were in the office for a long time!”

“You still could have come and got me.  I wanted to see you do it.”

“You didn’t say that!  You just said you wanted to know when I was wet!”

“But I meant that I wanted to see you do it!” she replied angrily.  “Just for that, you can stay in those crazy shoes for the rest of the night!”  With that, she turned and headed for her bedroom. 

“But I can’t!” I told her angrily.  “My feet are already killing me!”

She stopped and turned with a puzzled look on her face.  “I thought you said walking in those shoes was no big deal?”

“That’s just walking in them.  You know, like a few steps…”

“So they’re really a bigger deal than you were letting on.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that.  “Maybe…” I said cautiously.

“Then that’s two reasons why you can stay in them all night.  For lying to me too!”

“No!  I want out of them…now!”

“No!” she replied as she turned away again to head down the hall. 

“But I can’t stay all night in them!  They’re already killing my feet, and I’ve got to sleep!”

She stopped and turned again.  “Whether you think you can or can’t doesn’t really matter now, does it?  I’ve got the keys, and you’re stuck in them, like it or not!”  She gave me the most wicked smile I could ever imagine.  “Do you find that humiliating too?  Goodnight, Mister Mike.” 

I stared in horror at her retreating back.  Now what?  What was I going to do?  I was literally stuck in those damn shoes for the rest of the night, and my feet really were aching like a bitch!  There was literally no way to get them off without cutting the leather, and with as thick as the leather was, that wouldn’t be too easy.  And ruining those locks wasn’t something I wanted to do.  I had paid a small fortune for the things. 

An hour later, I headed for my bedroom to go to bed.  This time I locked my bedroom door.  I didn’t need her barging in on me again – for any reason!  Damn girl!  I finally got rid of the damn bra I had been wearing.  Then I pulled my pantyhose down, stripped my wet diapers off, and replaced the two wet diapers with just one dry one.  I was starting to run out and I wanted to conserve them.  Besides, I didn’t plan on wetting them during the night like I sometimes did.  I had enough problems for the night already.  I purposely didn’t put on the nightgown I usually wore, even though she had seen all too many of my other things.  I turned out my light and went to bed. 

I was stuck in those damn shoes.  I couldn’t take them off if I wanted to.  And I did want to.  I couldn’t even remove the pantyhose I was wearing.  The humiliation of the situation had me all too turned on.  Way too turned on.  I didn’t even think about it.  I did the one thing I did almost every single night and most mornings as well, I humped the bed, spending my load into my diaper in a huge orgasmic rush.

But of course, once that was over, as always, I felt nothing but disgusted with myself and I no longer felt like playing anymore.  I lost all interest in it.  I only wanted to put all my toys away and get some sleep.  The only problem was, this time I couldn’t put my toys away.  This time I really was stuck.  Completely!   She had the damn keys, and until she gave them back, there was no way at all for me to get out of those five inch heels.  Like it or not, I truly was…stuck! 

Hating myself, hating her, I tried my best to roll over and go to sleep, but it was difficult.  I dozed here and there, but each time my feet would suddenly seem to blaze into agony from not being able to unbend themselves, and it continually pulled me out of any kind of sleep I had been in.  The only way I found to stop the pain in my feet, was to get up out of bed and walk a few steps.  I have no idea why, but each time that seemed to help my aching feet.  After which, I laid back down again and I could doze…for a while.  Then it seemed to start all over.  All night long!  And worse, long before sunrise, the humiliation of it all got to me again and I humped the bed in my diaper, and again I hated myself and wanted nothing more to do with any of it.  But of course, what I wanted and what I was stuck with were two different things.  How early did that girl get up?  I could only hope it would be soon.

I normally liked to sleep late on the weekends.  Why not?  I lived alone – purposely!  I worked hard all during the week.  I deserved that little bit of extra rest.  But I was up very early the next morning, hoping that she would get up early too.  I changed out of the diaper I had worn all night that I had “messed up” but hadn’t peed into, and since I couldn’t get my normal underwear on with those pantyhose in the way, I had to settle for another single diaper – that I had no intention of wetting at all!  Whether she liked it or not, I struggled to get a pair of pants on over those locked on shoes, and I added a t-shirt and the sweatshirt I had worn the night before.  Only then did I leave my bedroom. 

I immediately checked her bedroom door.  Still closed.  But it was early.  I was very tempted to wake her and demand those keys again, but I didn’t.  If I made her too mad, she might not give them to me, and I didn’t need that at all!  So I went out to the kitchen to make some coffee.  Did she even drink coffee?  She was out of school now.  She worked.  So most likely she did. 

I sat at my kitchen table drinking coffee for a long time, staring out at my workshop in the backyard.  That was where I had planned on spending most of my day, working on that printer table I was building.  Since I was up already, I would have gone out there early to work, but not only were those heels still locked to my feet, but I didn’t want to miss her when she got up…so I could get them off of my feet!  It was so frustrating!

I finally poured myself a bowl of cereal and ate that.  And still she stayed asleep.  When did she get up?  What time did she have to be at work anyway?  Why was it that young kids never cooperated with anyone?  Didn’t they have any respect?  As far as I could see, she sure didn’t have any respect for me…anymore.  She used to.  But that was before…yesterday.  And the more I thought about it, the more I could only agree that there was no reason she should respect me anymore.  But that still didn’t mean she had to be so cruel as to keep me locked in my damn shoes all night!  Women!  No wonder I never married.  Of course, my main reason for that was me…and the fun things I was all too fond of doing.

That pot of coffee was nearly gone before I heard her bedroom door open…and the bathroom door closing before I could get to her.  I went up to the bathroom door.  “Ashley…I need those keys!” I called through the door.

“Not now!” she yelled back.  “I slept through the alarm on my phone.  I’m late getting ready for work!”

“But I need those keys!”

“Not now!  I’m busy!” she yelled.

Ugh!  Women!  That woman in particular.  Or that…girl!  Because I wasn’t sure she could qualify as a woman yet.  Not by the way she was acting.  I had to go back to the kitchen to wait.  It seemed like forever before she finally came out.  I hurried toward her.  She was already back in her bedroom before I even got to the hallway.  “Ashley…”  By the time I got to the bedroom, she had her jacket on and was heading toward me.  “I need those keys.”

“Oh yeah,” she finally said.  I saw her reach into the pocket of her jacket, and then she stopped and looked at me.  “I guess you’re wearing diapers under your pants?”

“No.”

She laughed.  “You’re lying again.  How are you going to get your regular underwear on, if you can’t remove those pantyhose…which you can’t remove since you can’t get your shoes off?”

Ugh!  “That doesn’t mean I’m wearing a diaper,” I pointed out.

“But I’ll bet you are,” she replied with another of those wicked grins.  “Besides, I heard the crinkling from it.” 

Oh how I hated her!  “So what?  What of it?”

“So don’t lie to me.”

“Tough!  Now let me have those keys!” 

She looked at me for a few long moments again.  “No.”

“But my feet are killing me!”

“And I think it’s hilarious that you can’t get out of those heels,” she said.  “Absolutely hilarious!”  She let out another laugh as she pushed her way past me.

I was so shocked I couldn’t speak for a moment.  “But my feet are killing me.  I’ve got things to do!”

She laughed without even turning back to me.  “See you tonight.  Ta-ta!”  And she walked out the front door. 

I couldn’t believe it.  I was still…stuck!  And worse, the keys were heading for another part of the city!