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Insubordination

By: Packrat

I could hear the key being inserted into the front door lock. The adrenalin immediately surged into my bloodstream. Matt was home from his business trip to the coast that began five days ago. As my heart raced, I was beginning to imagine the punishment that would be in store for me. Would I be humiliated in some way, or would Matt understand and console me? I loved him so much, but he was the master of our relationship. But before I describe what was to happen, let me digress a bit. My name is Camile, and I am 26 years old. I've been married to Matt for the past four years, following a whirlwind courtship. I would characterize our married relationship as sometimes loving, sometimes tentative; mostly the latter since I was caught by my husband in an affair I was having with a male co-worker about 4 months ago.

Matt is a strong and handsome man. He stands about 6'1" and has sandy hair that he keeps coiffed neatly with a style and length appropriate to any executive. He works for a large contractor in our town and has the confidence and demeanor to elicit respect from all levels of his encounters. At 31 years old, Matt had only briefly experienced a loving relationship with a steady girlfriend several years before I met him. He always said that the time he spent in love with Melinda was formative to his success in business. She was a bright and strong personality and dominated the relationship both in public and in private. Melinda was the 'top' and Matt was the 'bottom'.

Over several months, Matt grew weary of the treatment he received, in particular the sexual subordination that he was forced to endure, and he left Melinda, committing to never be the 'bottom' again. Instead he would be taking on the role of the dominating master, and he practiced this in all his personal and business dealings.

It was at a holiday party of a friend, shortly after his separation from Melinda that we met. I immediately sensed his strength, and found him more than handsome and virile. We flirted at the party, and I drank enough to lose my better judgment. I left with Matt and we proceeded to his home in the suburbs. It was a fine home, fitting for a contractor and an executive; large and well-appointed and finely constructed. The interior design themes were black leather furniture with brushed aluminum frames, and a kitchen filled with black granite counter tops. Beautiful modern art adorned the walls providing the needed colors to balance the dark furnishings. I liked it better than my 300 square foot flat in a dumpy old apartment converted from a large old single family home near the university.

We sat for a few moments in his great room and he mixed me another drink. When he brought it to me I was already pretty drunk, a bit sloppy, but still in full control. At least, I thought. Matt sat next to me and we kissed and fondled each other. I was pretty hot, when he quickly stood and took my hand, leading me to his bedroom. I was anticipating some really good sex. Inside the bedroom, he sat me on the edge of his bed and said sternly but kindly, "Take off your clothes, everything, take them off now."

My first reaction was to ask him to take his clothes off too, but I decided to hold off on my thoughts and play this out. Maybe he wanted a little dance to get him really randy. But, before I continue this narrative, there are a few things you should understand about me: I was born to parents that didn't want another girl and, as an infant, I was adopted to my mother's sister, who was barren in her marriage. I knew of my birth mother, my adoption, and my siblings, but never felt anything less than love from my Aunt/Mom, Evelyn. My aunt's only fault if this would qualify as one, was her never wanting me to grow up. Among other things, this resulted in my not being fully potty trained until I was about seven or eight years old. I was diapered every night by my aunt with her tender loving touch and care. During the day, this caused not just a few problems for me at school, and this reliance on, or perhaps, love of diapers never really left me as an adult, but no one ever knew my secret.

As an adult, I am petite, with dark chestnut brown shoulder length hair, very fair complexion and probably rank a conservative 'score' of 8 out of 10. I work out three times a week and watch my weight and diet. My closet is filled with sexy and tight fitting clothing; probably borderline acceptable for my multi tasking job in a small manufacturing company's front office; but the company owner likes to look at my perky breasts and is always hoping for a peek under my short skirt. I love how my wardrobe compliments my figure and captures his attention. I see it as job security. I've worked at my job for 6 years and occasionally wear a discrete diaper when the mood overtakes me. I don't know if my boss has ever seen it, he is too much of a gentleman to ever say so if he has.

Now, returning to my first date with Matt. I was standing in front of his bed, quite naked and waiting for Matt to remove his clothing and join me in some hot sex. To my horror, he stepped away from the room and returned an instant later with a disposable diaper in his hand.

"Lay down on the bed." He commanded me.

"What are you doing," I blurted out.

"Silence!" He shouted, half scaring me. None the less, I went quiet and followed his instruction, thinking that this would be his kinky form of foreplay. And, I was OK with the concept.

Moments later, I was wrapped in a bulky, vinyl covered disposable diaper. I didn't let on that I found this exciting, too. Matt had clearly taken control of the situation. I was ordered to remain on the bed and raise my hands above my head and not to move them. At this point, Matt placed a mask over my eyes. When I opened my mouth to object, he thrust a large rubber block into my mouth and tied it behind my head so I could not spit it out. I could breathe, but not speak clearly. There was a pause for several seconds, and I could feel a clamp being pinched onto my left nipple, followed immediately by another pinching my right nipple. The pain was masked by my excited sexual state and fear, but I was not able to orgasm. With firmness in his voice, Matt said, "Now, don't move from that position. Don't attempt to take off the blindfold or remove the gag. I'll be back in a bit to check on you."

The mixture of the alcohol and the darkness soon led to my falling asleep. When I awoke, I realized that Matt had indeed checked in on me. He bound both of my arms and my legs to the bed frame, spread eagle, preventing me from sitting up or leaving the bed. I was still diapered. Unable to hold my bladder any longer, I wet my diaper. I remained in the bed for what seemed to be about another three hours and wet yet again, now finding my physical position and my wet diaper uncomfortable. When Matt returned, I immediately felt his hand work its way into the front of my diaper and he remarked, "So, you understand the purpose of your diaper, I see. That's a good girl. And you mind me well, I like that. Do you want to have your diaper changed?"

I mumbled "yes" as best I could with the rubber gag in my mouth. Matt proceeded to change my diaper and then commented on what a beautiful body I had. He stroked my hair and massaged my breasts, rubbing me all over tugging on the nipple clamps that had been attached for more than a dozen hours. Then he left again saying he would be back in a couple of hours.

When he returned I was wet and he changed me yet again. Then Matt released my arms and my feet and removed the gag and blindfold and nipple clamps. The bright light of the room made it difficult to see him at first, but he was dressed in a suit and tie, and looked stunning. He brought me a new blouse and skirt that he had purchased. The top was tight and semi-transparent, with my nipples clearly visible. They remained large and firm from the clamps. It was clear that Matt liked the feature. The skirt was short, yet long enough to cover my diaper. Both articles of clothing complimented the shoes that I was wearing when I came from the party. When I was fully dressed, he grabbed me and planted a romantic kiss on my lips while holding me tight.

"Let's go out for dinner," he said, "You must be starving!" Away we went.

I could have said no, and I could have left, never to return; but there was something about this man that attracted me, made me feel complete, and made me feel as though I needed to follow his instructions. I had never experienced this feeling before with any other man. Maybe this was the relationship that I'd been waiting for. Now back to current events.

The front door closed and Matt came into the room where I had been reading. He sensed that something was wrong and immediately came to my side, sitting on the left side of me.

"What is it? You look worried or maybe, distressed about something, what's the matter?" He asked.

I immediately burst into tears, knowing that I would be punished for my behavior while he was away. He lifted my skirt and confirmed that I was wearing a diaper, but didn't offer any comment.

"What's the matter, tell me?" He asked again with a bit more sternness in his voice.

"After you left I removed the catheter you put in me. I'm not sure why, but I did. It doesn't matter anyway. Matt, I didn't do anything while you were gone, I swear, but I'm sorry..." I blubbered as I cried.

Matt's complexion turned red and his anger became evident. On the evening of Matt's departure he had called me into the bathroom. Ordered me to remove my diaper and lie on the floor and spread my legs and bend my knees in the air. He put on latex gloves and lubricated the tip of a Foley catheter, inserting it into me until it was safely 'home'. Using a small syringe, he inflated the bulb at the tip so that the catheter would stay in position, deep in my bladder; tugging on it just to make sure it was solidly installed.

"I've inserted this in my attempt to keep you from having sex with anyone else while I'm gone. It's not exactly a chastity belt, but it was all I could think of at the moment. Don't tamper or fuck with it until I return, got it?" He announced. I'd never had a catheter put into me before, and the feeling was uncomfortable, but I knew what it and he meant. Matt then quickly put me back into a thick diaper. Necessary now.

"You'll need to carry a diaper bag with supplies. With the catheter, you'll just drip into your diaper without control. I've bought a good inventory of diapers, and you should be able to work with this in place with no difficulty. I'll take it out when I return, understood?" He asked.

"Yes, I understand" was my timid reply.

When I sat, I could feel the tube inside me and found it marginally uncomfortable. As I returned to my chores in the house, I quickly forgot about the catheter, until I realized that my diaper was incredibly wet and drooping from the weight. With Matt now gone for his business trip, I was to begin the process of adjusting to incontinence. I hated this thing. Everything went tolerably until the third day of his absence, when I had a diaper leak at work and found myself greatly annoyed at the catheter's dangling tube. I grabbed my office shears on the way to the ladies room, where I cut off the tubing, allowing the balloon to release its charge of liquid and I quickly and a bit painfully, slid the catheter out of my urethra. I had only diapers with me, so I put on a fresh one and returned to my desk.

At home, I returned to my underwear and gave little thought to the consequences I would suffer when Matt returned and found that the catheter was gone. All I knew was that I was much more comfortable without it. On the day of his expected return, I decided to return to my diaper in hopes that he would not remember or check on the status of the device.

Matt told me to go to the bedroom and wait for him. I complied and waited for what seemed like 30 minutes. When he entered the room he sat in the only chair that did not have arms, I was told to remove the diaper and lay across his lap for a spanking. This was new to Matt's behavior towards me, but not unexpected since I had not followed his instructions, and it was clear that he was truly pissed. This would be my punishment for my failure.

For the next five minutes I was subjected to a spanking that was unequalled in my life's experience. My tears flowed and I apologized as the hits, one after the other, reddened my butt. When finished, Matt said to go to the bathroom and get down on the floor as I had when the catheter was inserted. Again, I complied, lying on the cold tile floor near the Jacuzzi tub.

Matt followed me into the bathroom a few moments later and began the same routine that I had experienced five days before. With one difference; instead of filling the syringe with sterile water, he poured two vials of chemicals in a mixing bowl. Stirring them together, he used the syringe to take up the syringe's full length of the volume of the liquid, setting the syringe aside. Next he removed and lubricated another Foley catheter and inserted it into me until the urine ran from the open end into a dish. Now he used the syringe to inflate the bulb of the catheter, still saying nothing.

Completing the task, he put me back into a fresh diaper, and told me to lie on the bed. After he cleaned up the supplies, he came and sat next to me.

"This time you'll wear that catheter for a very long time. The liquid I used to inflate the bulb was a special two part epoxy material that will harden in the bulb and remain rigid for about three months. Cutting the tube won't work like before, it won't allow you to take it out. This is your punishment for your insubordination; you'll be in diapers for a very long time. And, if I have any more problems with you, I'll be putting a permanent little device in your ass to prevent you from holding in your shit, do you understand." He asked with a firmness I had not ever heard in his voice.

I'm sure that if there was any color in my face, it left immediately. The thought of contending with irreversible incontinence for the next several months was horrible; but the added threat of anal incontinence was even greater. My last experience with the catheter was only for three work days, how would I manage for months, how would I socialize with this 'hardware' in me? Could I have sex with Matt with this stupid thing in place? Why hadn't I just followed his earlier instructions and left the original catheter in place? I had so many questions, I had so many fears.

Matt took my chin and firmly raised my head to look into his face.

"You do understand that your complete submission is essential to your well being, don't you?" He asked with a combination of dominance and tenderness. I meekly replied "Yes, I'm sorry for what I've done and that I didn't follow your instructions, Matt, I really do love you."

"Ok, then you can begin to show it starting now." He said as he lowered his slacks and underwear.

"Take me in your mouth and please me." I complied, I had no choice, I was to be dominated and I loved it.

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