wittlesissybaby

Besties - Part 2

Published: April 10th 2023, 9:01:54 pm

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure you’re sure?”

“Yes!”

“It’s really gross, Lindsey,” Heather reiterated, still clutching Brandon’s hand,  “and it…might be a little weird.”

I nodded, showing my resolve, I spent the last 3 years of their relationship watching Brandon treat my best friend like absolute shit. I think it would help a lot to see her clean up his actual shit.

Heather sighed and shrugged, “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor. Brandon followed this command quicker than he did the others. Eager to get out of his soiled diaper, he clambered down immediately. Heather went over to the side of the couch and pulled out a large pink bag. I didn’t even realize it’d been tucked away there the whole time.

She rummaged through it a bit and pulled out a disposable mask. “For the smell.” she said, “You’re gonna need it.”

“Don’t you need one?” I asked, noticing she didn’t grab one for herself.

She shook her head, getting down on her knees between Brandon’s spread legs. “Na, this isn’t even a bad one.” Judging by how awful this one smelled, I’d hate to see what Heather thought of as a ‘bad one’. I got down next to her, a little behind, but peeking over her shoulder.

Heather exhaled, then put on a jovial face. “Okay Brandi!! You weddy to change your stinky diapurr??”

Brandon nodded his head so hard his pacifier plopped out. Heather didn’t bother putting it back in, just asked him patronizing questions in that sing-song voice.

“Who’s my stinky girl?! Hmm?? Who’s my stinky girl??”

Brandon was putting on his highest pitch voice, giving it everything he had like he was afraid she would change her mind if he didn’t do it well enough. “I am Mommy, I’m your stinky girl!!”

“You sure arrre!!” she cooed, booping him on the nose.

It was kind of strange to watch. Heather had never been the “motherly” type. She never wanted kids, she never had any interest in the idea of being a housewife. She was a go-getter. So to see her fawning over Brandon and his diapers like this was certainly a sight to see.

“You want changies??”

“Yes Mommy! Me wants changies!!”

Heather pressed her hand to the front of his diaper, and the other to one of the tapes. I was surprised at how she didn’t flinch at touching the soggy padding. The Heather I knew would wash her hands twice after going to the bathroom.

Once she had both the tapes undone, she grabbed the entire front flap and looked back at me, “Hold your breath.” she said.

Even with the mask, even with me stopping myself from breathing, the smell was still quite pungent.

“Ohhh my goodness!!” Heather exclaimed. “That’s quite the load!”

Brandon covered his face with his hands. Now that he was splayed out on the floor, with all the evidence of what he did, his most vulnerable parts showing, he must have been overwhelmed with shame. I had imagined worse in my mind. It wasn’t as runny or spread out as I imagined. He must have been on a high fiber diet. Oh god…was I really examining his feces??

“Do you mind handing me some wipes?” Heather asked, reaching her hand back. She glanced back at the scene of the crime. “Lots of wipes…”

I found the crinkly package located on the side of the bag, I popped it open and yanked out at least 5 or 6 like I was pulling tissues when knee deep in the flu.

“Thanks, bestie!” she said when I handed them to her. I watched as she used the front of the diaper to push down his crack and clear most of the damage away. It was ingenious really. I’d never changed a diaper myself, so I was honestly very impressed by Heather’s expertise. She slowly, methodically used the wipes to clean the remaining areas. Brandon gasped and whimpered when she brought her fingers between his crack. I noticed she’d covered one with the wipe and slipped it all the way inside his cleanly shaven butthole.

“Don’t let him fool you,” she said with a wink, “He loves it back there. He was begging for a pegging last week!”

We both giggled at that, much to Brandon’s chagrin. Heather needed a few more wipes from me, dropping the used ones in the dirty diaper down below. Finally, she made her way up to his balls. He flinched from the cold, but then relaxed. It took several passes to wipe all the sticky juices leaking from the flat, coin-like cage.

She looked back at me again. “I have to take his cage off to clean underneath. Maybe look away?”

“Why?”

“Well…you’re gonna have to see his penis.”

“I can already see his penis.” What’s left of it. I thought.

Heather laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

She reached between her breasts, pulling out a dangling chain. At first I thought it was some sort of jewelry I hadn’t seen, but Brandon never bought her jewelry. Instead, it was just a tiny little key.

It took me far too long to put it all together. I blame the wine.

She lifted it off her head, and brought it to what I assumed was the locking mechanism on the side. It took her a couple times to get it in the slot, apparently she hadn’t had as much practice at that part. Finally, she made it in and turned it with a soft click!

Brandon’s breathing was quick, syncopated, and desperate. Heather lifted the top off and several ropes of precum followed. The head of Brandon’s penis was so shriveled and purple from being stuck in an almost inward position for so long. But it only took a couple of seconds of fresh air to send it pointing straight up to the ceiling. It was probably only maybe 4 inches, possibly 4.5 if it hadn’t been locked up so long.

“Sorry,” Heather laughed awkwardly, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s erection.

“It’s okay!” I assured her, but I had to ask, “Is it always that…small?”

“Actually…” Heather chuckled, “this is probably the biggest I’ve ever seen it.”

It was hard not to laugh, so I didn’t bother trying. “It’s so…cute. And pathetic! No wonder he drives a giant lifted truck!”

Brandon didn’t think that was nearly as funny as Heather did.

“But…isn’t this how you…control him?” I asked, “What’s stopping him from running off now that his little pecker is free?”

“Oh I have other ways.” Heather smiled wickedly, turning back to Brandon.  “Petrificus”.

Brandon’s arms immediately snapped to his sides, his legs even more rigid than his cock. It was like he had been frozen in place.

“What the hell was that?!” I asked incredulously.

“Just a little command.”

“Does he do that on his own or is it some sort of…” witchcraft, I wanted to say. But that would sound too ridiculous.

Heather just shrugged. “I don’t even know, really. Apparently they had him on some sort of hypnosis regiment at The Facility, and all I have to do is say some special words and he obeys.”

“Like a dog?”

Heather laughed at that, “Yea, I guess so!”

“What other ‘tricks’ can he do?”

“Hmm..” Heather had to think for a second, then one popped in her mind. “Pollex” she said.

One of Brandon’s arms instantly shot upward and inserted its thumb into his mouth. He started suckling instantly like a piglet on the teet.

“That’s amazing.” I reveled in awe. “You must do that all the time!”

“Mm…not really.” She said, shrugging, “I much prefer to make him obey me the hard way. On his own volition, you know? But it is fun to slip those words out in public or at random times. You know, when he’s being a big ‘ole dummy.”

At that last word Brandon instantly yanked his thumb out and replaced it with that ridiculous pacifier, like he was clinging on to the last bit of air and the head of that rubber penis was his only lifeline for oxygen.

“It’s hilarious when we’re out and he doesn’t have that pacifier around. If I—or even someone else—says dummy he is scrambling for anything he can put in his mouth to suck on!”

“That’s…honestly really cool.”

“Crazy what they can do to the mind isn’t it?” She chuckled, then turned back to him. “Rellex”

Brandon’s arms and legs instantly went limp again, like a puppet getting its strings cut. His dick, however, was still as stiff as ever.

“Now where were we…”

Upon my limited inspection of Brandon’s penis, it looked relatively clean. Still, Heather must have thought it required a wipedown. Brandon shuddered when she wrapped the cold wipe around it, but that discomfort was immediately replaced with incessant breathing. I got the feeling Heather didn’t give it this much attention often. Or maybe she did, because she seemed to take pleasure in slowly moving the wipe up and down more than she needed to. But right as Brandon’s breaths became heavy like he was about to…she pulled it away, leaving Brandon mewling and whimpering on the floor.

She tossed the wipe down into the dirty pile with the others, folding the diaper over and then rolling the soiled mess up, taping it together, and setting the poopy package off to the side. Further away from me, thankfully.

“Lotion?” She said to me. Like a surgeon’s assistant, I searched the bag and handed the item to her.

She smiled in appreciation as she took it,  squeezing a generous amount into her hand and rubbing them both together. Putting her oiled palms on the creases of his thighs and pelvis, rubbing down the entire area except for his sensitive bits. Eventually, she started tracing one hand down until it was between his crack, pressing her finger into his hole again. He didn’t even try to fake displeasure, his eyes were in the back of his head now. She used the other hand to cup and knead his balls, then made her way up the shaft.

It was an intimate moment that I felt I shouldn’t really be watching, but I couldn’t look away. I was enraptured by this bizarre scene, the same way you couldn’t help but look at a car accident.

She made a ring with her fingers and brought it up his penis ever so gently. His hips practically followed her upward, lifting off the floor until she pulled up higher than he could, so he dropped back down in frustration while simultaneously jamming her finger further into his ass.

She repeated the process over and over again. Only going upward in one long smooth stroke. Never going down. It was driving Brandon absolutely crazy. He was a whiny puddle on the floor. I’d never imagined he could make such high-pitched, desperate and—frankly—pathetic sounds.

“Awww!! What’s the matturr, little one?” Heather teased, knowing exactly what she was doing.

“P-p-please let me make cummies, Mommy!!”

Make cummies? That’s a new one…I thought.

“Hmm…do you think you deserve it?” She asked, still doing that upward stroke gently and inserting a second finger into his ass. He welcomed it gratefully.

“Yes Mommy!!” Brandon practically shouted. “I’ve been a good girl! I’ve been a good girl!!”

“Hmm…watta you think Lynds? Has Brandi been a good girl?”

I shrugged exaggeratedly, happy to join in on the playful fun with my best friend. “Oh I don’t know…..”

I saw a lightbulb go off in Heather’s head. “I think Ms. Lyndsey should decide if the baby girl gets to make cummies or not! How’s that sound?”

Brandon turned to me with those misty little doe eyes. His normally hardened features now pleading and desperate. I’d never seen him so vulnerable. The man I spent the last 3 years loathing was now (figuratively) in the palm of my hands. It was surprisingly endearing to have this much power. This was fun! I could see why Heather seemed to enjoy it so much.

It was my turn to exaggeratedly ponder by tapping a finger to my chin. “You know,” I said to him, “You and I have hung out with each other dozens of times. We’re ‘friends’ on social media. I’m sure Heather talks about me a lot…” Heather nodded in agreement. “So all you have to do in order to cum is: tell me what my last name is.”

Heather must have enjoyed the challenge I presented, she smiled brightly, turning back to him expectantly. Finally going up and down on his dick, slowly, as if to show him what was waiting for him if he answered correctly.

Brandon’s face, however, was horror-stricken. Something so simple could get him the orgasm he so desperately desired after so long. All he had to do was pay the slightest bit of attention to the most important people in his girlfriend’s life. But he now realized he couldn’t even do that. He was going to suffer for always being so self-centered.

The pacifier fell from his mouth, he had drool running down his chin from being so infatuated with it before. But now, his bottom lip quivered, his eyes darting left and right for a modicum of recollection. As the silence drew on, Heather stopped her stroking motion, the two of us waiting expectantly.

Brandon realized his time had run out. He had to venture a guess: “Uh…Smith?”

Heather sighed and scoffed in disbelief. “It’s Johnson.” She told him, like he was a fucking idiot. “Literally the same as yours!”

No relation, thankfully.

Brandon looked like he was going to cry as Heather removed her hand from his swollen, purple penis. Actually, he was crying! Tears were now streaming down his face. This big, burley man had been reduced to a feeble, blubbering mess. He started moving his hands to the area in desperation, but must have thought better of it, returning them back to his sides as Heather scooped up the front of the cage again.

“Do you mind fetching me some ice cubes?” She asked me.

A strange request, but sure. By the time I got back from the freezer with the ice tray in hand, Heather had the pacifier back in Brandon’s mouth to muffle his cries.

“I only need one or two,” she said. I popped them out and handed them to her. I watched as she pressed one to the tip of his penis, and the other on the sensitive part underneath the head.

Brandon flinched and floundered from the cold, still whimpering pathetically. Within no time, Brandon’s penis had shrunken down to its flaccid, acorn-length state. Making it easier for Heather to press it back into the tiny cage to the sound of Brandon absolutely bawling.

“Pick out a diaper for him.” Heather hollered over the crying, not the least bit bothered by it, even giving me a smile and a wink while her boyfriend writhed in his dress on the floor. Powerless.

I was surprised by just how many different types of these ‘adult’ diapers there were. The prints certainly didn’t look like they were made for adults. There were zoo animals, cartoon dinosaurs, mermaids, princesses, and unicorns. I chose the one that had the last two on it. The pink accents matches his dress perfectly, and it seemed quite fitting for the state he was in.

“I knew you would pick that one!!” Heather laughed as I handed it to her. But when I pulled it from the bag, a long strand also came with it.

“What is this?” I asked.

She glanced over while unfurling the diaper and doing some sort of creasing and fluffing to it. “Some ribbon.” She said.

“What’s it for?”

“I use it to ‘decorate’ him sometimes.” She shrugged, “I put it around his neck like a collar, around his wrists, his hair, or his…”

“His penis?!”

She laughed, nodding.

“Oh my god! We HAVE to do that!!”

I thought back to the time in college when we for some reason decided we wanted to take our Christmas present wrapping to the next level. We must have spent hours watching Youtube videos and perfecting the method. But none of them looked quite as good as the one we wrapped around Brandon’s little caged penis. Like a tiny package only Heather was allowed to open.

“It just makes it look so much cuter, doesn’t it?!”

Heather had to wipe moisture from her own eyes on account of how much she was laughing. Who would have thought we would be bonding over beautifying her boyfriend?

“Now the powder!”

A cloud of dust later, Brandon’s bits had a fresh blanket of snow. Each step of this whole diaper change plunged him further and further into that prissy pampered pansy look.

“Oh! One more thing!” Heather took the bag from me before I could do anything. “Sorry,” she said, rifling through the contents, “Didn’t want you to have to touch this one…” Eventually, she found what she was looking for. It was a little steel bulb with a pink jewel at the base. I at least knew what this one was.

“I call it his ‘assy paci’!!” Heather gleamed. It had me cackling while she took some baby oil and spread it over the top, smearing it around before pressing it to Brandon’s hole. It went in much easier than I thought it would.

“No more stinkies for you today!” she teased, booping him on the nose.

Finally, it was time to pull the diaper up and tape it shut. Heather extended her arms and let Brandon use them to pull himself up, like he was incapable  of doing it without her. His eyes were still misty, he sniffled behind his paci, face all puffy.

Heather picked up the dirty diaper and handed it to him.

“Outside.” She said, “I don't want it stinking up the house.”

Brandon hung his head, but silently obeyed. Clambering up on his feet for probably the first time since I'd been here. The combination of the buttplug and the fluffy diaper gave him quite the comical waddle as he made his way to the door. He stopped, sighed, and seemed to be gathering some courage. Looking back at Heather in hopes that she would change her mind. When she didn’t, he exhaled and grabbed the knob. The light of the sunset peeked through when he finally opened it, crossing the threshold and shutting the door behind him.

“You have a trash can outside?” I asked, not remembering one.

“More like a dumpster…down the block.” Heather giggled.

“Do you keep him diapered all the time?” I asked.

“All day, every day.” She replied. “I actually let him go to bed without them once and he ended up soaking the sheets. Haven’t made that mistake again!”

“What about when he goes to work?”

“He wears them under his clothes. I’ve had to go in several times to change him on his lunch break.”

It was so much to grasp. I understood why she hadn’t told me about it all until now. There was no way I would have believed something like this if it were conveyed through a text message.

“What does he do all day?”

She shrugged, “Well, when he’s not cleaning the house in a skimpy maid outfit, he plays with his blocks, stuffed animals, trains, stuff like that.”

“Isn’t that…boring?”

“For him? Or for me?”

“Yes.”

She laughed at that, our way of saying ‘both’, then inclined her head. “I’m sure it is for him. It’s very mindless. I like it because it makes him look cute and innocent. Much better than when I had to listen to him play video games or watch Football…”

I remembered the time we were over to watch the Cowboys and he punched the middle of the screen when the ref made a “dumn fucking call” (according to him.)

“It’s the other things I make him play with that are more entertaining.”

My interest was piqued. “Ooohh! What?? Tell me!!”

But just as Heather opened her mouth, Brandon came back in the house, looking exasperated and emasculated.

“Hi honey!” Heather chirped, like he was a husband coming home to a housewife after a long day of work.

“Would you be a doll and go get us each a fresh glass of wine?”

Brandon just nodded and made his way straight to kitchen.

“Then I want you to go get your special toys!” Heather called over her shoulder.

I’m not sure what she was referring to, but whatever it was, it stopped Brandon dead in his tracks.

To be Continued...