By Karen Singer
Chapter 12 – Part 1 of 2
Betsy Wetsy, aka Michael Hammond, wiggled as best he could on the bed, but tied spread eagled like he was he couldn’t move much. It wasn’t that part that bothered him. He loved being tied that way. It had been the stuff of his dreams. And now Mistress had tied him up for the entire night that way. No, that wasn’t his problem at all. His problem was that for once he was sleeping with no chastity device locked onto him, and try as he might, he couldn’t get enough stimulation to his diaper covered penis to do anything about his desperate need. He shook, he wiggled, he bucked, but none of it did a thing for him. Ugh! This had to be the third time he had woken up during the night so far in desperate need of release, only to find he couldn’t do anything about it.
Frustrated, he could do nothing but lay there in the same spread position and wait, and try to relax enough to fall asleep again. Of course, he had no idea of the time, but eventually, not even realizing it, fatigue once again overtook him, and he lapsed again into sleep.
In the other bedroom, Fido, aka Ronald Gretch, rolled over on the floor and curled himself up into a fetal position. He wasn’t used to sleeping naked on the floor. He was having a problem with feeling cold. He wanted a blanket over him and something softer than the hard floor under him. But at the same time, his leash was tied to the leg of her bed and though he still didn’t understand why, he was still enjoying the way she was treating him – like a dog.
She had made love to him when they went to bed…before she had banished him to the floor. She had made love to him, man to woman…or should that be woman to man. She had been on top the entire time. But oh, what she had done to him. The memory of it had kept him awake for hours before he could finally fall asleep. Even now, coming slightly awake only enough to roll over in what little space his leash was giving him, the memory of it had him growing hard once again. He was tempted to touch himself, but he didn’t. The love session had been too special. Too memorable. He didn’t want to ruin the memory of it by doing something so crass. Now, if he could just have a blanket to help keep him warm. Or even just something softer to sleep on. Maybe then he could sleep better…and dream of what had happened to him earlier.
In the other bedroom, Betsy woke up with a problem. He needed to pee. Mistress’s hands had gone inside his soaking wet diaper last night and she had brought him to a mind-numbing orgasm just before she had put a fresh diaper on him and tied him to the bed. But now he was awake, because he needed to pee. He thought briefly of calling out to Mistress and letting her know so he could use the bathroom, but he knew better. She had stuck him in diapers the moment he had arrived, and she had done everything to make sure he kept using them…including pooping in them yesterday. No, there was no question about what she wanted him to do, if he needed to pee, he was going to have to do it in his diaper again. He fought with the feeling for a while, but he was too tired. He knew he needed sleep. He relaxed and let it out. The feeling of the warm pee coming out and running over top of him, then working its way down to the bottom of his diaper was such a weird feeling. But he had been through it before.
He concentrated on the wetness that he gradually felt less and less of as the diaper absorbed it all. But now that he was wet again, it brought back the other feelings that had been keeping him awake all night – his desperate sexual need. All day long yesterday, every time he had wet himself, she had stuck her hands down into his diaper and stimulated him in ways he never imagined could feel so good. Now he was wet again, and it seemed like his overly needed body wanted release again. Like he did before, he wiggled, he bucked, he did everything possible to bring some kind of stimulation to his wet diaper covered cock, but as before, it did no good at all. He picked his head up and pounded it back to the pillow in frustration. Ugh! How was he supposed to go to sleep again? How? He had no idea what time it was. He only wanted morning to come so he could do something to get some relief!
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Mercy opened her eyes. In the still dark room, she automatically checked her clock. Five o’clock. The usual time she got up every morning. Quietly, she slipped out of bed. She looked over at Fido. He was sleeping on his side with his legs drawn up toward his chest. The leash was still tied to the bed. Good!
She left him and went out of the room and over to the other bedroom. She peeked inside. The heavy breathing let her know that the twerp…Betsy, was sleeping soundly. She wondered how he really managed being tied up like that all night. But he was the one who wanted things like that. She briefly wondered if Betsy Wetsy’s diaper was wet. She hoped so.
She left him and went into the third bedroom. The room she had set up as her workout room. Like she did most mornings, she started her day with a light workout. For her it was a light workout. Anyone else would probably call it punishing. She started with the weights because they made the least amount of noise. But before she finished, she was punching the heavy bag in the room as hard as she could.
It was an odd noise that woke Fido. A noise he couldn’t place. The leash attached to her bed didn’t allow him to go anywhere to investigate it – unless he untied it, and he was hesitant to do so. He poked his head up to check her bed. She was gone. So she was the one making all the noise. And then he realized it. She was in her workout room. The room with all the weights. Whatever she was doing in there, she was certainly making enough noise.
But now that he was awake, was he supposed to untie himself or unclip his leash? He was awake. A trip to the bathroom would be nice. He just didn’t know what Mistress would want since she had tied the leash there last night. Not knowing, he decided to lay there and wait for her to finish.
Betsy heard the odd noise as well. Like Fido, he couldn’t figure out what it was for a while, but it finally dawned on him. She was exercising. And by the sounds of it, she was going at it pretty hard. He was more than ready to get out of bed. He was getting beyond desperate to move. But he couldn’t. He was thoroughly stuck, and he had no way to do anything – except lay there. Should he call out to her? He didn’t know. He was so tired of being in that position he getting more tempted to call to her by the minute. But he had always dreamed of being stuck like that with no way out, so he did his best to endure it, and try to enjoy it. He would just enjoy it a whole lot more if he could get some sexual relief! Not to mention, he was starting to need to pee again.
Mercy stepped back away from the heavy bag. It was enough…for now. She’d probably do a bit more later, but today she had guests in her house, and both of them had never spent the night before. Still removing the protective wrapping from her hands and wrists, she went into her bedroom to check on Fido. She was happy to see him still on the floor and still leashed to her bed where she had left him. “Good boy, Fido,” she praised him. She went over and untied the leash.
Fido felt a moment of sexual pleasure when she told him he was a good boy – like a dog. But he was a bit disappointed when he saw her untying the leash from the bed instead of just unclipping it. As much as he enjoyed acting like a dog, he was getting a bit tired of it. But still, the moment his leash was untied and she pulled on it, he was back on all fours and was following her out of the bedroom.
Mercy, leash in hand, stopped briefly at the doorway to Betsy’s room. He was awake. “Just hang on there for a bit more,” she told him. “I’ll be back as soon as I get Fido taken care of.”
Betsy was glad she was coming back soon, but if she didn’t come very soon, then he was afraid he was going to make his diaper a bit wetter. And then he realized that she wasn’t going to let him go anywhere but in his diaper anyway. With that disturbing thought, he relaxed and let it out. No use being more miserable than he already was. The real problem now was, after wetting himself again, he couldn’t help but remember those hands of hers, every time he had wet himself yesterday. Inside his diaper, his cock was growing hard again, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it. He wanted to scream!
Fido figured it out the moment he realized she was heading for the back door. She was taking him out to go to the bathroom – outside, like a dog. He was thrilled – and disappointed – both. After spending so much time doing the dog stuff, it would be nice to be more human again. Still, the thought of it did make his cock twitch.
Mercy stopped in the middle of the patio. She unclipped Fido’s leash. “Go ahead boy, go do your thing. You don’t need me to walk you around the yard.” With that, she turned and went back into the house, leaving him there.
Fido watched her go back into the house. Knowing what he was supposed to do – which he was conflicted as to whether he wanted to do it or not, he crawled out onto the lawn and headed for the gardens bordering the backyard. He was there, he loved the dog play, why not? He crawled over to a small bush, lifted his leg, and let loose. Doing it was perhaps one of the strangest and most demeaning sensations in the world. The sexual thrill of what he was doing started hitting him hard before he even started. By the time he finished, all he could think about was Mistress’s magical hands giving him pleasure to that part of him that he realized was now growing larger by the moment. Why? Why did he have to love something so demeaning so much. Not having an answer, he crawled toward the back door, already figuring out that he would have to wait for her to let him back into the house.
Mercy pulled the covers completely off of Betsy. The first thing she noticed was the thing she was most interested in. He was wet. She also noticed the bump inside his diaper. With a smile she reached out and caressed his diaper covered penis. “Still enjoying yourself I see,” she said. “Even after being stuck like that all night.” Before he could reply, she started rubbing her hand over the front of his diaper. In moments he was pushing back against her hand. She could see how desperate he was for another orgasm. She kept at it…then abruptly stopped. “You’re not nearly wet enough for that,” she told him.
Betsy nearly had a fit. He had been so close! But he could do nothing but lay there as she untied first his legs, then each of his hands.
“Move around and loosen up,” she told him. “I’ve got to let Fido back into the house.”
Fido heard her at the door. The moment it opened, he scurried inside. He watched as she shut the door, waiting to see what she would require of him next. What she told him was the last thing she expected.
“Enough dog play for now,” she said. “Get up and put your panties stockings and heels on. I need you to be human again. Meet me in the exercise room when you’re ready.” With that, she headed back to Betsy’s bedroom.
Fido was surprised by her command, and also very pleased. As much as he enjoyed the dog play, going back to being human again would be good. He crawled over to his clothes, only realizing that he could have walked if he wanted to, after he had gotten there.
Betsy was sitting on the bed, stretching and bending his arms and legs, trying to get the kinks worked out after being tied spread-eagle all night long. His penis inside his wet diaper ached! He looked up as she stopped in the doorway.
“Betsy,” Mercy said. “Any chance you can cook us all some eggs and bacon?”
“Why not?” Betsy said. “I make some for myself once in a while.”
Mercy smiled. “Fantastic! But for now, get your ass up off that bed and put your stockings and high heels on. Then meet me in the exercise room.”
Betsy left the room and went out to where his clothes were. He saw Fido already getting dressed. Something told him that play time was over. A few minutes later, he and Fido went down the hallway and into the exercise room where they saw Mistress curling weights, one in each hand.
Mercy looked up as they came in together. She put the weights down. “Betsy, you first,” she said. “Up on the treadmill.”
The treadmill? Betsy eyed the thing. “I’ve never been on one of these things,” he said as he approached it warily.
“Don’t worry, it’s easy,” Mercy told him. “And you’re only going to be walking for a few minutes. Not to mention, after being tied up all night, you’re probably going to need the bit of exercise.”
Betsy wasn’t sure about that. Nothing Mistress did was ever that easy.
“Grab the handholds,” Mercy told him.
Betsy grabbed the handholds, but the moment he did, she cuffed each one so he couldn’t remove them.
“Now, just a slow walk to get the kinks out,” Mercy said.
Betsy just hoped she really did mean slow. He saw her push one of the buttons and the belt he was standing on began to move. He was forced to walk forward. The pace was easy though. Slow enough that he had no problem at all.
“See, easy,” Mercy said as she watched him. She pushed another button and the treadmill began moving faster, but not much faster. “Look down,” Mercy told him. “See that line on the treadmill? I want every step you take to hit that line. Right on top of it.”
Betsy adjusted his steps so that he was walking on the line. As he did, he immediately remembered the time when she had taken him shopping and she had demanded that he walk just like this. He quickly realized that this was more about just exercise. It was practice for the way she wanted him to walk. With his eyes concentrating on the line, he kept at it.
Mercy let him look down at the line for a minute as he got used to it. But she didn’t let him look at it long. “Pull your head up,” she told him. “Don’t look at the line anymore. Just make sure your feet go right in front of each other. I want you standing up straight and proud while you walk.”
Betsy tried but it was a lot more difficult. His eyes kept glancing down to make sure he was still walking on the line.
Mercy picked up a riding crop she kept in the corner of the room and carried it back to him. “She saw him glancing down. “Don’t look!” she admonished him as the riding crop slapped the back of his hand.
Betsy was so surprised and distracted that he missed a few steps.
“You missed!” Mercy said, as her crop again came down on his hand. “Missed!” she said again as she hit him again.
Betsy did his best to adjust his steps while trying to look straight ahead.
“Much better,” Mercy told him as she watched. She let him get used to trying to walk that way for a few minutes, hitting his hand with her riding crop every time he either looked down or missed a step. When she thought he was comfortable enough with what was happening, she reached up and pulled the nose hook from where it was hanging from the ceiling. “Stand up straight,” she told him as she pulled it down and inserted it in his nose.
Betsy pulled briefly at his hands to stop her, but anchored to the handholds, there was nothing he could do. And the treadmill never stopped moving so he was forced to keep walking while she stuck something into each nostril of his nose. Then he saw her pulling on a string, and the thing began pulling his nose up in the air. And then she tied it off. He couldn’t look down if he tried!
“Missed a step!” Mercy told him as her riding crop lashed out at his hand again. “One foot in front of the other. Get used to it!”
Fido watched it all while sitting on one of the weight benches in the room. He had no doubt at all that when Betsy was finished, he would be taking his place. The exercise seemed to go on and on until Mistress finally called a halt. By that time, Fido wasn’t looking forward to that exercise at all.
“Half a mile,” Mercy said as she turned the machine off. “Pretty good for your first time. But don’t worry, eventually you’ll be getting lot’s more practice.” She unhooked everything from him and waited until he had stepped off the treadmill. “Go make us breakfast,” she told him. “Three eggs for Fido and me, and however many you want. And cook the entire package of bacon.”
Betsy left the room, his head still spinning from his time on the treadmill. He was breathing a bit heavier than usual, but it had been a slow easy walk. Just a lot further than he ever imagined. Half a mile! That was a very long distance to have to walk in heels! Not to mention trying to walk one foot in front of the other. Still in a daze, he headed down the hallway toward the kitchen…one foot directly in front of the other.
Fido watched as she connected his hands to the treadmill so he couldn’t remove them.
“Your friend Betsy has been getting a lot more secret practice walking in heels than he lets on,” she told him. “But you spent all day yesterday working in them, so I don’t expect you’ll have that much trouble with this.”
Fido swallowed. “No Mistress. I hope not.”
“I hope not too,” she told him. “Now, nice and slow to start. One foot in front of the other.”
The treadmills started and Fido was forced to walk slowly forward. After a few steps, he did his best to adjust his steps so that his feet were hitting the line. He watched that endless line as he went around on the treadmill and his feet did their best to land directly on it. It was a weird way of walking, and he wasn’t used to it at all. He missed a few steps and was glad when Mistress didn’t him for it. But then suddenly he missed another one and he felt the sting of that crop on the back of his hand. He concentrated harder on trying to get it right. Before he knew it, she was telling him not to look down, but to stand up straight while he walked. He tried, but not being able to look down seemed to make her crop hit his hand a lot more often. And then after not feeling the crop for a few minutes, he felt her sticking that nose thing up his nostrils and pulling his head up so he couldn’t look down. After that, he felt the riding crop far more often. He did his very best to keep his feet…and hips…moving the right directions to keep them where she wanted them going. He was very glad when she finally declared that the half mile had been reached. His feet inside his heels felt like they were on fire, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to be allowed to remove them anytime soon.
“Breakfast time,” Mercy declared as Fido stepped down off the treadmill. “Let’s see how Betsy did in the kitchen.”
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