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    The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

    Part 1

    Steve looked across at his attractive wife of seven months.

    Not only was she a beautiful woman, he thought, but she knew how to handle their Jeep
    Cherokee. As she knew how to handle most things, he thought. Steve counted his blessings
    yet again as Sally piloted the Jeep along the winding back road.

    'Here we are darling,' said Sally, turning to her husband with a smile as they drove between
    two tall, stone gateposts. 'Home,' she added.

    Steve peered down the drive as they approached the large house.

    It had been a long drive up to this remote part of the mountains. In fact, thought Steve, it
    had been a long trip of a different sort, these last few weeks. He reached over, and put his
    hand on the tight denim of Sally's muscular thigh. Thank God I married her, thought the
    slightly built young man.

    Steve had met Sally at an executive 'power retreat'. Sally had been one of the facilitators in
    the program Steve had attended. Outwardly confident, Steve in fact found aspects of the
    corporate world daunting, and had attended the out-of-state course during his annual break
    in order to 'empower' himself. He wanted to eliminate the nervousness he often felt before
    major events in his business life. The feelings of inadequacy seemed to be growing as he
    ascended the corporate ladder in his field.

    Steve had met Sally at the second session of the first day. They had hit it off very well, and
    he was pleased when she asked him to have coffee with her.

    After a few more sessions, and a few more coffees, Sally told Steve that he was really
    handling things well, and that any nervousness he felt was based on groundless fears. He
    was a very competent businessman, Sally had assured him. Steve had left the retreat early
    and returned to work, buoyed by Sally's positive view of his potential. The pair maintained
    their friendship, which in a few months had led to a proposal of marriage, from Sally
    actually, although Steve assured himself he had been thinking about it.

    Marriage to this wonderful girl a few short weeks later had further increased Steve's new-
    found confidence. He had almost begun to swagger through his days at the office.

    Then calamity struck. Steve was sacked in a routine cleanout of dead wood in his financial
    services organization. He couldn't understand it, or bring it into line with his view of things.
    Steve didn't just lose his swagger in mid stride; he lost his nerve completely.

    'A psychological breakdown brought on by pressure of corporate life' was the medical view
    of his present condition.

    Sally told him that she felt responsible - that she felt her assessment of Steve's capacities,
    bolstered, she said, by her love for him, meant that the fall had been even harder for him to
    take.

    And it was Sally who had come up with a solution. While she took up a six month post in
    Europe, Steve was to stay at Sally's mother's remote ranch in order to relax completely, far
    from any corporate pressure, and find his strength again.

    Steve had only met his mother-in-law twice, at the wedding and once before that. 'Mrs
    Jones' had seemed as remote as her home proved to be. A wealthy widow, she lived by
    herself in the mountains way out of any town, not needing to work her large holding, and
    spending her days, Sally had said, 'writing and painting'.

    The couple had agreed that it would be the perfect environment for Steve to recover his equilibrium.

    Now, Steve's nervousness rushed back as they slowed to a halt on the gravel outside the
    big portico. He felt a childish urge to run and hide.

    But his mother-in-law, Janet Jones, stood waiting for them and had fixed her eye on the
    nervous young man in the passenger seat of the dark blue Cherokee.

    Mrs Jones was powerfully built, like her daughter. She wore gray leggings and a tight green
    sweater. The clothing hugged the rounded feminine contours of her hips and waist,
    forcefully proclaiming her gender. Steve swallowed as he looked at her. Sally's large breasts
    and wide hips obviously ran in the family, he thought smiling uncertainly at the woman.

    'Hello, Steve,' his mother-in-law said as he climbed down from the Jeep and stood in front
    of her, turning his cheek to her proffered kiss. Steve immediately noticed how tall she was.
    He wasn't sure he had ever really seen his mother-in-law standing up before. Sally, at 5'
    10", was almost three inches taller than Steve, (not that it mattered - Steve would remind
    himself of showbiz 'odd couples' where there was a similar size difference) but Sally's
    mother was a good two inches taller than Sally. Steve had to turn his face upwards to be
    kissed by her.

    'Call me Janet,' Mrs Jones said brightly, then turned to her daughter, She asked Steve to
    bring the luggage into the hall. and the two women talked animatedly as Steve carried in
    the suitcases.

    After a pleasant round of drinks in a sort of parlour, Steve collected his things from the hall
    and followed Janet's instructions to reach the upstairs room he was to use for the next six
    months. It was a large room, with a big bed and a window looking out over the broad valley
    occupied by the ranch. Steve liked the room. He was glad that neither woman had
    mentioned why he was there. Most of the talk had centred on Sally's forthcoming European appointment.

    Sally had said that her mother was very happy about the idea of Steve 'unwinding' at the
    ranch for a while, and it had been very fortuitous that Sally's overseas job had come up
    when it did.

    So here he was, thought Steve, sitting on the bed for a few minutes and looking out the
    window. It was funny how it had all happened without him making any decisions.
    Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

    Morpheus: I am hope.

    -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

    #2
    The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

    Part 2

    Steve returned to the sunny living area to find that Sally was ready to leave, and after a
    brief farewell, he found himself alone with his mother-in-law. He wasn't quite sure what to
    say, but Janet didn't give him much time to think about that.

    'Well, young man, how do you like your room?' she asked him.

    At 29, Steve wasn't sure he was such a 'young man', but answered politely that it was very
    nice, with a great view.

    'Good,' said Janet. 'I'm glad you like it. I've got everything organised, so you don't need to
    worry about anything. Just relax… You can spend the rest of the afternoon resting after the
    long drive. There are plenty of books in the bookcase in that bedroom. I'll call you for
    dinner at seven. Oh, your bathroom is two doors to the left of your door.'

    Steve had been looking forward to a grand tour of the house, or at least a roam around the
    property, but as Janet seemed to have a timetable well in hand, and since he didn't want
    to be difficult in any way, he followed his mother-in-law's instructions, and was soon lying
    on his new bed, wondering what the next six months held for him.

    It didn't seem long afterwards that he was woken by a knock on the door.

    'Dinner time, Steve,' called Janet.

    Steve sat up, shook his head and blinked. He must have been tired to fall asleep like that,
    he thought, swinging his legs off the bed and hurrying down to dinner.

    Janet had set two places opposite each other at the big table in the dining room. Steve
    didn't really relish the thought of spending a meal looking at, and being looked at by, his
    somewhat formidable mother-in-law. He couldn't really complain though, he decided.
    Considering his recent history, he certainly didn't want to show any behaviour that might
    be consistent with someone who couldn't cope, or was having any sort of problems. He felt
    a bit as though he were back at school, and had to be on his best behaviour in front of this
    woman. Physically, she fitted the role of authority figure, thought Steve, watching her as
    she doled out vegetables onto his plate. Well, he thought, it looks like a good feed anyhow.

    Steve remembered his manners, and was waiting for Janet to start first, when she
    suddenly asked him to say Grace. Steve was caught on the hop. Saying Grace wasn't
    exactly a feature of his and Sally's mealtimes. He stammered out what he hoped was an
    acceptable thanksgiving, feeling somewhat foolish. To add to his discomfort, he realised
    that he needed to pee. He should have gone before he rushed down to dinner, he thought.
    He decided to hang on until after the meal.

    As soon as Steve had finished his impromptu Grace, Janet leaned across the table and
    filled the big tumbler next to him with water from a large jug, then filled her own glass.
    The extended gurgling of the water into the glasses reminded Steve acutely of his need to
    pee. He was hoping Janet hadn't caught his discreet squirming, and was wondering how
    silly he might look if he excused himself from the table almost as soon as he had sat down,
    when Janet looked at him and asked if he had forgotten to 'do a pee' before dinner.

    Once more, Steve was caught by surprise.

    'Er, yes, I did,' he mumbled. 'Excuse me,' he added. He stood up, and waited for a
    moment, expecting Janet to give him some directions to a nearby bathroom. She simply
    smiled at him, so he headed for the kitchen, where he somehow expected to find the way
    to a bathroom.

    Reaching the large kitchen, he looked around the unfamiliar room, and took a chance on an
    open door that led into a short passageway. He really did need to go.

    There were two closed doors in the short passageway. He opened the first door and found
    a pantry. Steve gave a short, soft moan and swung around and opened the other door.
    Inside was a sort of scullery. No toilet. He could hardly piss into the scullery sinks, he
    thought. This was terrible. He felt his face becoming flushed, and had of necessity to hold
    himself through his pants. Why hadn't he asked her where the bathroom was? He couldn't
    make it all the way to the upstairs one near his room. Why didn't she tell him where the
    toilet was? He felt a tear roll down his cheek, and found he had to make an effort not to
    cry. He hadn't cried for, well, since he lost his job.

    'Outside door, off the porch,' came Janet's strong, clear voice, as if in answer to Steve's thoughts.

    Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been so desperate to take a piss. It was all he
    could do not to wet his pants as he found the door to the porch and then the one to the
    bathroom. He flung open the door and stood gratefully in front of the toilet bowl. He lifted
    the lid, let go of his penis, ignoring the quick spurt that left it as he did so, slid his pants
    and underpants bodily to his knees without undoing the fly or his belt. He stood sighing
    with relief as he urinated. A couple of tears rolled down his cheeks, and he realised that he
    had been crying. So much for normal behaviour, he thought miserably, wiping his eyes
    with the back of his forearm, and tried to think of something casual to say when he
    returned to the table and to his mother-in-law.

    He was still standing with his pants around his ankles and holding his penis in one hand
    when Janet spoke from a few feet behind him. Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

    'Oh, I'm sorry Steve, I didn't mean to startle you,' said Janet kindly, 'It's just that you
    were a while and I wanted to see that you were ok,' she said. 'All well?' she added superfluously.

    Steve, his face flushed and hot, nodded vigorously. She'll be staring right at my bare buns,
    he thought. He hoped they weren't going red too.
    Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

    Morpheus: I am hope.

    -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

    Comment


      #3
      The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

      Part 3

      'Sally's little brother always used to forget to do pees before dinner,' Janet said conversationally.

      Steve reached down and pulled up his pants.

      'I didn't know she had a little brother,' said Steve. Sally had never mentioned him.

      'Oh yes,' said Janet. 'Of course, he's not here now,' she added, her voice trailing off as she
      went back to the dining room.

      Strangely, the little incident seemed to have broken the ice between them. Janet smiled
      warmly at Steve as he reseated himself at the table, and he smiled back. He quite liked the
      way she had taken his sudden exit and half-nudity in her stride.

      Still, Steve thought he should apologise.

      'Janet, I'm…' he began.

      'It's alright, Steve, I've seen plenty of little boys' bottoms,' Janet said airily. 'The main
      thing is you kept your pants dry.'

      Steve wasn't sure how to take either of her statements. 'Little boys' bottoms'. He felt
      suddenly odd. He wasn't a little boy. He thought they had just exchanged sophisticated,
      adult smiles over an embarrassing incident. He wasn't a little boy. And there was no
      question of him pissing his pants. Well, if there was, it was only because he couldn't have
      pissed in the sink like he would have if she hadn't been there. He was kidding himself a
      little bit there, he admitted. Especially as he knew that the crotch of his CK underpants was
      soaked from when he had had to let go of himself for a moment to pull his dick out of his
      briefs. Still, that's a male thing, he thought, and she couldn't have noticed anything. He
      looked down and saw with relief that the front of his pants was perfectly dry.

      He smiled at Janet across the table again, a little less certainly this time.

      The meal continued.

      Janet was definitely a good cook, Steve decided.

      After dinner, Steve helped Janet clear up and then, partly out of embarrassment at what
      had happened and partly out of not knowing what to do for the rest of the evening in a
      house with no TV or computer, Steve said that he would like to have an early night.

      'I've put some pyjamas on the dresser for you,' Janet replied. 'Sally told me you didn't
      wear any.'

      'Thanks,' said Steve. Great, he thought. Thanks Sally. Janet is probably a prude, and now
      she thinks she has a peculiar, pants-dropping, pee-delaying nudist on her hands, quite
      apart from a recovering breakdown case.

      Steve headed to his bedroom. He found the pyjamas on the dresser as promised. They
      seemed to be new, or at least freshly laundered. Steve held the top up in front of him.
      'Coarse velour' would be a kind description of the material – thick, stretch terry towelling
      would be more accurate, Steve thought. Pale blue, with long legs and arms, pink stretchy
      bands at the openings, and no fly, he noticed. Still, they looked warm. He stripped and
      pulled them on. They fit quite comfortably, he found, and did feel warm.

      Remembering his wet Calvin Kleins, he carefully spread the briefs across the central
      heating unit in the room, reminding himself to remove them first thing in the morning.

      He felt the unusual sensation of the stretch pyjamas as he moved. Steve wasn't used to
      such clothing. The few pyjamas he had worn, in adulthood at least, had been of the boxer
      shorts and shirt variety. The closest thing he could think of to these was a light, stretchy
      tracksuit. Steve shrugged and got into bed.

      He lay there for a few minutes, wondering who Sally's little brother was, and what
      happened to him. Something about the way Janet had spoken about him made him
      hesitate to ask Janet any questions.

      Steve's thoughts became erratic as he felt the warmth of the pyjamas enclosing him, and
      after a few minutes he fell asleep.

      He woke after a sound ten-hour sleep. He got out of bed, and heard Janet moving around
      downstairs. Gathering his clothes, including the now dry briefs, he made his way to his
      bathroom, showered, shaved and dressed, and went downstairs.

      Janet bade him good morning, asked how he slept and made him an excellent breakfast.

      After breakfast, Steve had his tour of the house, or at least a part of it - it really was large
      - and then spent most of the day ambling around the property. It was quite something,
      with an impressive garden and beautiful vistas. It was certainly the most relaxing the
      environment he could have hoped for. By dinner time, he was pleasantly tired from his
      ramblings, and even laughed when Janet asked him if he had remembered to 'do pees'
      before sitting down this time.

      'Yes, I did,' he answered with a smile, and enjoyed the meal before another early night,
      this time as a natural result of the hours spent rambling around enjoying the scenery.

      It was quite cold at this time of year, and Steve was very glad of the warm pyjamas which
      Janet had refolded and put back on top of the dresser for him. He made a note to do that
      for himself in future, as well as make his bed.

      This was all so different from the pressure of the office, he thought happily as he lay back
      on the soft pillow. He drifted off to sleep with no nagging thoughts of work, and was soon
      dreaming sweet dreams.
      Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

      Morpheus: I am hope.

      -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

      Comment


        #4
        The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

        Part 4

        When he woke, he remembered something of a dream about not being able to find the
        bathroom. He blushed slightly as he remembered that in his dream, he had wet his pants,
        and had felt very embarrassed telling Janet what had happened.

        He moved to get out of bed, and stopped still. He squeezed his thighs together. He couldn't
        have, he thought. He slid his hand down to his crotch. It was saturated, and so was the
        bed around his legs. He felt the blood drain from his face. He had wet his bed in no
        uncertain fashion.

        'Good morning Steve,' Janet said as she came in carrying an armful of blankets. 'It's so
        cold up here even with the heating that I thought you may need these.' Janet wore her
        apparently usual tights, olive green this time, and a somewhat incongruous-looking, loose
        satiny top of an apricot hue.

        She looked at her son-in-law.

        'Is everything alright?' she asked with concern.

        'Yes,' said Steve. 'I mean I was just wondering about, you know…, Sally,' he added,
        somewhat lamely.

        'I'm sure she's fine,' said Janet briskly. 'Are you getting up or do you expect breakfast in
        bed?' she added.

        Steve felt his stomach churning. He could wait for Janet to leave, then get up, but he
        would still have to tell her sometime, he thought. He couldn't wash all the bedclothes in
        secret. He wanted to wish the whole situation away. He just wanted everything to be
        normal. It was, except for the sodden pyjama pants around his legs and the soaked
        bedding. He watched Janet putting the blankets in the bottom drawer of the dresser, then
        turned his face the other way.

        'Steve,' she said, and Steve turned again and found himself facing the wide, tights-covered
        mound of Janet's crotch as she reached over Steve to remove the bedspread. Steve felt
        suddenly very small, wondering if she meant to strip the bed with him in it.

        He heard himself begin to speak. It was as if it was someone else doing the talking.

        'Janet, I think I might have…'

        His voice cracked. He felt confused for a moment. Why did he say anything at all, he
        thought. He felt his eyes widening as Janet looked at him.

        'What is it, Steve,' she said, now folding the towel Steve had draped over the foot of his bed.

        'I've had an accident, I'm sorry,' he said quickly. 'I just woke up and, and…'

        His head seemed to be reeling, and he felt the tears welling somewhere behind his eyes.

        'An accident?' he heard Janet say as she approached him. 'Did you wet your bed? You poor
        baby, let me help,' she said.

        Well it was too late now, thought Steve.

        Janet pulled back the bedclothes, and they both looked down at the dark blue wetness of
        Steve's pyjamas, and the wet sheet he was lying on. Steve began crying helplessly.

        'Never mind darling, it's not a disaster, just a wet bed. Let's get you up and out of these
        wet things,' Janet said, helping Steve out of bed.

        He stood desperately trying to stifle his sobs while Janet stripped his pyjamas off. At least
        she wasn't cross, or shocked, he thought as his tears subsided and he began to get things
        in perspective.

        'Wrap yourself up, darling, and we'll go to the big bathroom,' Janet said, gathering some
        clothes from the dresser and extending her hand behind her.

        Steve felt strangely numb as he took Janet's hand and followed her past the bathroom he
        had used the day before, They turned into another short hallway. He hadn't seen this part
        of the house in his guided tour. Janet took him into a large bathroom, and he sat quietly
        while on the closed toilet seat where she had led him. Janet began to run a bath. What can
        I say to her, he thought desolately.

        'I think you'll feel much better after a nice bath,' Janet said. Steve didn't answer. Janet let
        the bath taps run, and approached Steve with a smile. She bent down and kissed him.
        Steve looked at her full breasts swinging under the loose top. He could see the big, dark
        aureoles, just like her daughters… He realised that he had put his arms around his mother-
        in-law's neck, and was nestling his head against her soft body. He should have felt
        embarrassed, not contented, he told himself, but Janet seemed to be quite calm about
        everything. She even seemed to be returning Steve's impromptu hug. Maybe a wet bed
        wasn't so serious, after all. Not even uncommon. Strange bedroom, unusual situation…
        Steve mulled things over while he sat on the toilet seat. He let go of his mother-in-law's
        warm softness. She ruffled his hair, smiled at him and went back to preparing the bath.
        Steve realised that his towel had slipped to the floor. When did that happen, he thought,
        and looked down to pull it back up. It wasn't there at all.

        'Here's a new towel for you, darling, the one in your bedroom is still a little damp from
        yesterday,' Janet said, handing Steve a fluffy yellow towel.

        Steve realised that he must have imagined wrapping himself in the other towel. He had
        followed Janet naked into this room. He began to feel very small again, and began to chew
        the top of his thumb as Janet sighed and helped him wrap the towel around him. Steve
        hardly noticed. He was trying to think. He was worried that he was acting strangely.

        Janet had seen him naked, but she was his mother-in-law, so that maybe wasn't so
        strange, he thought. He had been brought up by an aunt after his own mother had
        disappeared, and this was something similar, he reasoned. He had wet the bed
        occasionally as a youngster, too. Not that anyone knew, except Sally. She had sat him
        down for a long, therapeutic talk one afternoon at that business retreat. It had really
        helped to tell her his life story, he thought. He wondered for the thousandth time at his
        good fortune that someone like Sally thought enough of him to marry him.

        'In you hop,' said Janet, breaking into Steve's reverie.

        Steve had almost forgotten where he was. He handed Janet the towel and slid into the
        deep, warm bath.

        'You just soak there while I fix everything up,' said Janet.

        Steve lay back and Janet left the bathroom.

        'While I fix everything up…'

        Steve smiled as he remembered Janet's words. It felt so good to have someone say that.
        He seemed to have spent his life fixing things up either for himself or for other people at
        work, he told himself self-pityingly. Now someone was fixing things up for him. About
        time, he thought. I need to be looked after. Well, I want to be looked after, he corrected himself.

        He lay back in the bath and closed his eyes. He remembered baths like this at his aunt's
        house. Back then, there were bubbles, and a yellow rubber duck, he remembered. He
        thought again - that duck wasn't a memory - he had seen one a few minutes ago, he
        thought. He craned his neck around. There it was - on a slow shelf behind him. He reached
        up and got the duck. It squeaked as he squeezed it. At least it's a proper one, he thought,
        plopping it into the water in front of him.
        Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

        Morpheus: I am hope.

        -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

        Comment


          #5
          The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

          Part 5

          'Quack, quack,' Steve said quietly as he maneuvered the duck around. 'No bubbles,' he
          added. You have to have bubbles if you have a duck in a bath.

          'I see you've found a friend to play with,' said Janet.

          Once again, Steve jumped in shock. Janet seemed to have a way of materialising at private
          moments. Steve looked at the rubber duck in his hands.

          How embarrassing, he thought.

          'I was just…' he began, but Janet cut him off.

          'Playing with your duck,' she said with a grin, and kissed Steve's forehead. 'I think you and
          your friend deserve some bubbles,' said Janet brightly, leaning down and squeezing some
          thick gel from a bottle into the bath.

          Oh well, he thought. So what.

          'Thanks Janet,' he said.

          Janet smiled and left the bathroom.

          Once again, Steve thought how nice it was to be looked after. He hadn't had that terrible
          anxious feeling at all today, he realised. Maybe this luxury treatment was what he needed
          after all. Maybe, he thought again, it's what I deserve.

          I have absolutely nothing to do until she comes back, he thought, then wondered at how
          quickly he had slipped into the notion that she would tell him when to get out, and most
          likely when to come down for breakfast. He looked down, and realised that he had been
          holding his penis under the water. It felt nice, he thought, and kept holding it while he
          moved the duck around. He tried to think whether he had been holding himself like that
          when Janet was in the room. He couldn't remember. Well, her thought, she hadn't said
          anything, so if he had, it was obviously ok with her. She had seen him naked lots of times.
          He peed underwater, giggling at the feel of the relatively cool pee around his fingers.

          Steve was soon quite involved in playing with the duck and the bubbles, and regretted
          having to get out when Janet came back and helped him out, wrapping his towel around
          him. It was just like being back at Aunt's, he thought. He found himself holding his penis
          again while Janet dried him off, and all she did was ask him if he wanted to do pees again.
          He didn't, and soon he was dried off and wrapped in the towel, with Janet leading him back
          to his bedroom.

          'Steve, I noticed a few stains and marks on your underwear when I washed it yesterday,'
          Janet said conversationally.

          Steve felt embarrassed, and waited for her to go on. Those little marks happened to everyone.

          Janet looked at him kindly.

          'So I found some underpants for you that will wash easier,' she said, proffering a pair of briefs.

          Steve was towelling himself vigorously, and looked up at Janet, then at the pants she was
          holding out.

          Janet looked at him seriously.

          'Do you need to do pees, baby?' she asked.

          Steve shook his head vigorously.

          'Ok, baby,' said Janet, and held the pants forward again.

          They looked sort of big and round. Steve saw they had the same stretchy leg holes and
          waist as his pyjamas, and seemed to be made of similar, thick material.

          Janet held them lower, and asked him to step into them.

          Not knowing what else to do, Steve put in first one leg then the other. Janet pulled the
          pants up close around his waist.

          They felt warm immediately. A nice feeling, decided Steve.

          'How are they, darling?' asked Janet.

          'Fine thanks,' he replied. He smiled up at her. It was good being called darling. Maybe she
          even meant it. No-one had called Steve 'darling' for a very long time. Even 'baby' was nice.

          'Good boy,' said Janet. 'Your things are still drying, so I found some other clothes for you. I
          think they're your size. Just the thing for cold days around the house.'

          She gave Steve a thick, warm t-shirt, holding it up while Steve put his arms through the
          holes, then pulled the rest of the shirt down around his sides. Next she held out a pair of
          pants. Steve realised that she was basically dressing him, but he didn't really care. It was
          just so good having someone care about him like this, and he did deserve it, after all. He
          stepped into the pants, and was surprised when Janet turned him around and pulled up a
          bib at the front and some straps.

          Steve laughed. The straps tickled his neck. Janet did up the buttons at the sides and the
          clips at the front, and jiggled the straps a little. Steve remembered the feeling - the tight,
          pulling up feeling from the straps across his shoulders to the crotch. A feeling from a long
          time ago, he thought.

          Janet next produced Steve's socks, and he sat on the bed with his legs up off the floor,
          expecting Janet to put them on for him.

          'You can put your own socks on, I think. You're old enough to do that, aren't you, baby?'
          Janet said with a laugh.

          Steve blushed. He had been carried away with thoughts of his aunt, what with the bubble
          bath and the duck and all. He took the socks from Janet without saying anything and put
          them on, then took the shoes she offered and put them on too. He was a bit out of practice
          with laces, so she helped him along.

          Janet left, telling Steve to come down to breakfast in a few minutes.

          Steve stood up. He felt again the slight pull of the bib and brace overalls as he moved
          around the bedroom. He caught sight of himself in the big mirror next to the dresser, and
          stared at the reflection. He saw a slightly built person wearing apricot colored overalls with
          turned-up cuffs at the bottoms of the legs, yellow socks and red sneakers. He turned to
          face the mirror front on. The overalls were smooth all the way down the front, with only a
          centre seam to break the flat sweep of the material. They looked more like kid's pants,
          or…the phrase 'toddler pants' occurred to Steve. No, that wasn't right. More like the pair
          Sally wore sometimes. Girl's pants. But not men's pants. Hmm, he thought. Still, men
          wore all sorts of things these days. They were like ski pants. That's what they were. Ski
          pants. But these were denim. Anyway, it didn't matter, he told himself. He was here to
          relax, not get concerned about things. And Janet obviously thought there was nothing
          wrong with them – she had given them to him! He was very warm and comfortable, that
          was the main thing.

          He remembered Janet's summons to breakfast, and was soon downstairs with her. She had
          set the breakfast table as before, and Steve enjoyed a full and delicious meal.

          It was pouring with rain, and so another jaunt around the ranch was not on the agenda.

          Janet suggested that he might like to sort out a box of old things she had in the large room
          which had been formed be enclosing one end of the long verandah along one side of the
          house. 'Sorting things' appealed to Steve's methodical mind, so he accepted happily and
          followed Janet to the big room. Janet opened a cupboard which seemed to be brimming
          with boxes of different shapes and sizes, and Steve helped her take out a big cardboard
          box from the bottom shelf.

          'I think there are about three different sets in there,' said Janet. 'I know all boys like
          trains, so I hope you'll enjoy yourself.'

          At any other time, Steve would have snorted at the suggestion that he sit down with a lot
          of toy trains, but now, as it was raining and considering that he was just helping his
          mother-in-law sort some items, it didn't seem so bad. And he had had a train set when he
          was a child.

          They put the box on the large rug which covered the floor.

          'You can sit over there,' said Janet, 'then there's room if you want to spread things out a bit.'

          Steve sat down on the rug as asked, and Janet took a few of the toys out of the box. Steve
          was pleased to see that one of the green box cars Janet took out was just the same as one
          he remembered having years before.

          'I had one of those,' he said, looking up at Janet with a grin.

          'Did you, baby? I'm sure there are more of them,' Janet said, ruffling her son-in-law's hair.
          'There's some track too - you could put a whole train together.'

          I could too, thought Steve, looking forward to the activity. He suddenly felt a cold shiver.
          Just as part of sorting them, he reminded himself. He was too old to play with trains, but
          here he was, sitting cross-legged in colored overalls with his mother-in-law telling him to
          play with trains. He didn't want toi give Janet any reason to think he was behaving oddly.
          He glanced at the door to see Janet standing there, smiling. All is well, Steve thought to
          himself with relief. I'm just sorting trains.

          Janet went back to her business, and Steve soon had all of the engines, tracks and
          carriages spread around him on the floor. There were several sets, as Janet had said. Just
          for the hell of it, he made up a loop of track, and assembled a six car train pulled by the
          green engine. There was no engine mechanism, so Steve had to push the train around with
          his hand. For realism, he provided sound effects.

          By mid-morning, Steve had a figure eight track with three trains on it. He had built a
          passing line, and a little township at each end of the loop using the model sheds in the
          box. There were even scaled animals and a few people, so he had those set up
          appropriately as well.

          He felt the need to pee during a complicated passing operation involving all three trains,
          and had put off getting up to go to the toilet. Now he needed to go badly, so he carefully
          stood up from the train layout, and headed back through the kitchen to the bathroom
          where he had had his bare-bottomed incident the day before.

          Steve stood in front of the toilet pan, and couldn't understand why he couldn't unhook the
          front of his overalls. He struggled with the strap for a moment, then felt the anxious
          panicky feeling rising.
          Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

          Morpheus: I am hope.

          -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

          Comment


            #6
            The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

            Part 6

            A spurt of warm pee escaped into his underpants. He needed help quickly, and ran to find
            Janet. She was in her dark parlour, sitting in a chair by a tall window, reading. She looked
            up when Steve came rushing in.

            'Please Janet, I can't get the top undone,' said Steve.

            Janet looked up, concerned at his obvious agitation.

            'It's alright, baby, let me help,' she said.

            Steve stood next to her chair, moving his weight from foot to foot and clenching the
            muscles of his lower abdomen.

            'See, I put the loose bit over and through the buckle,' she explained, pulling the strap out
            of the buckle and twisting the metal stud through its wire clasp.

            'Please,' was all Steve could manage. He was clost to tears; his bottom lip was quivering
            and he had to grip his private parts through the layers of clothing in order not to wet his pants.

            By the time Janet had the other buckle undone, Steve had released another spurt into his
            pants despite his efforts. He took off like a racehorse as soon as Janet had the bib undone,
            and ran to the bathroom.

            He knew he had leaked a bit more, and turned and sat as soon as he had his underpants
            and overalls around his knees. There was no time to stand and aim.

            Steve sat in relief, and wiped a tear or two from his face. He wondered if his pants looked
            wet, and turned up the crotch of the overalls to look for a damp patch. He was surprised to
            see none there.

            His new underpants were very wet, but not on the outside. He looked at them carefully.
            They seemed to be made of several layers. No wonder they're so warm, he thought. The
            inside layer was thick and fuzzy, and looked as though it was made of something artificial.
            It had stitching criss-crossing it like a quilt. That must be the easy washing stuff, he
            thought. He rubbed the thick layers of fuzzy cloth between his thumb and forefinger. He
            realized that there was a waterproof layer somewhere between the inner and outer layers.
            He bit his lip at the words forming in the back of his brain. Ski pants, he told himself
            firmly, ski pants. Some sort of waterproof skiing underpants. The voice in his head again
            saying something else, but he silenced it, and in any case the internal battle was cut short
            by the appearance of Janet, asking if he was ok and telling him lunch was ready.

            Steve pulled up his underpants and overalls, and Janet helped him do up the buckles. He
            felt the thick wetness in his crotch for a while, but it soon reached body temperature and
            he stopped noticing it.

            Lunch was very pleasant. They talked about the trains, and about the animals Steve had
            seen on his rambles. The sun came out during lunch, and Steve went for another walk.

            He had almost forgotten about the trains, and on his return asked Janet what she wanted
            to do with them. She replied that she had tidied them up as she wanted to vacuum the
            rug. Steve felt disappointed, then wondered what the sorting was about, but decided that
            she was entitled to her ways, and anyway, was soon busy bringing in firewood for the
            boiler and the fireplace in the parlour.

            Steve used the toilet, pleased that he undid the straps by himself, although Janet helped
            him do them up again, and he soon settled down to help his mother-in-law prepare
            vegetables for dinner, which they duly ate and enjoyed.

            After dinner, Janet told Steve that since the mattress in his room was still drying, he would
            be sleeping in another bedroom. Once again, Steve followed her down an undiscovered
            passage, and was soon in a smaller bedroom. It was still a nice room, and Steve, tired
            from his wood-carrying, let Janet undress him. He suddenly remembered his thick, wet
            underpants, and hoped they might be dry by now, or that Janet wouldn't notice. Quickly,
            he took them off himself and put them to one side, with the dry, terry exterior uppermost.

            Janet folded his overalls, and looked around before picking up the underpants from the
            dresser where Steve had put them.

            'Looks as though you got a little rash when you wet today, baby,' she said mildly as she
            inspected first the sodden training pants then Steve's reddened crotch. 'Never mind,' she
            continued, 'You'll need a little wipe and some gel before bed, though, and as I said, these
            pants wash very well.'

            Steve was glad the early evening gloom hid the hot blush of his cheeks.

            'Just pop up on the bed, baby,' said Janet.

            Steve, naked, sat on the bed. She had seen what there was to see, so he just tried to think
            of nice things. He thought of the green train.

            'Back we go,' said Janet, gently guiding Steve's torso back onto the bed.

            Steve felt very strange. Janet spread his legs slightly, and wiped his lower tummy and
            private parts with a cold, damp towel she produced from somewhere. Steve could smell the
            lightly medicated wetness she spread around. Then she dusted the rest of his tummy with
            talc. The smell, his position, and his mother-in-law's soft, cool hands brought memories
            cascading back to Steve. He did need to be looked after, he realized. He had wet his pants
            and he was sore. Janet was almost like his Aunt, and even his mama.

            He couldn't believe his ears. Did he just say 'Mama', or did he just think it? The word
            seemed to glimmer in the darkening room.

            'What was that, baby?' asked Janet.

            Steve could feel the warmth of her body as she leant over him. One of her large, soft
            breasts brushed his chest as she helped him up. He felt its weight resting momentarily
            against him, and he began to cry softly. He couldn't stop himself.

            'It's alright baby, everyone has little accidents in their pants, it's ok,' she assured him.

            The moment passed, and Steve apologised, without really being sure what for. Janet just
            gave him a hug and a kiss and helped him into his pyjamas.
            Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

            Morpheus: I am hope.

            -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

            Comment


              #7
              The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

              Part 7

              Steve lay in bed after Janet had gone. Her perfume and the taste of her lips lingered. He
              thought of his day, of breakfast, and the trains, and wetting his pants, and getting the
              timber. He rolled over, and felt and heard the crinkle of plastic. He had felt a plastic sheet
              under the lower sheet with his hand as he got into bed. He knew what it was. Well, I did
              wet the bed last night, he thought. She fixed it though, he thought sleepily…She gave me
              a green train…I wet my pants…I won't wet my bed but there's a plastic sheet…

              Steve dreamed of being on a train with Janet. He had to pee. It was a long way to the
              township at the far side of the loop of track, and they had to wait while a red train went
              past. Steve had his legs crossed, and he had wet his underpants a bit already. Janet said it
              was alright, everybody has accidents. Sally was there too. Steve couldn't wait and wet his
              pants. Janet had to change his pants in front of Sally and the painted plastic farmer and
              the cow and the train guard, who stood still and said nothing. Janet made Steve lie on his
              back while she wiped and powdered him, then put on fresh, thick underpants and pulled
              his bib'n'braces up nice and tight. Steve couldn't stop crying. Janet held him close and he
              felt better.

              'Did baby have a bad dream?' Janet was asking. She held his head to her soft breast.

              Steve blinked. It was getting light outside and Janet was sitting on Steve's bed.

              'I was on the train,' he said slowly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

              'Well you're in your nice warm bed now,' said Janet soothingly. 'See? It's nearly morning.'

              Steve suddenly peed into his pyjamas. He swallowed and started crying again.

              Janet seemed to know what was happening. Reassuring him, she pulled back the
              bedclothes. Steve looked down and was surprised to see that his pyjamas were quite dry,
              along with the bottom sheet. He felt very uncertain about what had happened. He was sure
              he remembered wetting a moment ago.

              He was very quiet as Janet took off his pyjamas, and his eyes began to close as she cooed
              soft words to him. He opened his eyes and looked down at the thick diaper he was
              wearing. He wasn't sure if he remembered when she had put it on him. He sucked at his
              thumb, trying to remember.

              Janet smiled at her sleepy son-in-law and removed the plastic snap pants and wet cloth
              diaper. She wiped and powdered him then rediapered him. She put him into a pale yellow,
              stretch terry onesie she took from a chest of drawers in the room.

              Steve looked sleepily at his feet after the complicated business of being put in the strange
              garment. His tummy looked very thick and puffy, and the short legs ballooned out above
              the elasticated bands around his thighs.

              'This will help keep everything on nice and tight. You just go back to sleep, baby. It's still
              early,' Janet said softly as she kissed Steve's forehead and left the room.

              Steve was confused. He wondered why Janet had put a diaper on him. He wasn't sure if
              being in a diaper was odd behaviour. Janet didn't think it was, but he couldn't think if it
              maybe was odd just the same. Then he realised. He needed a diaper. So it wasn't strange
              after all. I need a diaper now, he thought. He started to feel sad, as if he had lost
              something. He wondered what he had lost. It was too hard to think what it was, so he
              began to think of the trains again, and shut his eyes to think of them better. He imagined
              himself on the green train. The train rocked gently and he thought he heard its whistle as
              he drifted off to sleep.

              A couple of hours later, Steve woke with the sun streaming through the gaps around the
              brown blind in the window.

              He rubbed his eyes. He was back in bed again. He remembered Janet being on the green
              train, and she had changed his pants. Steve swung his legs onto the floor and stood up. He
              took one step and stopped. His legs were cold, and his first thought was that his pyjama
              pants had come off. Then he looked down and saw that he had on a kind of stretchy
              garment with short, fat legs, and – he looked at the large, toddlerish form in the mirror – a
              big yellow duck applique'd onto the front. Something was scrunched thickly around his legs
              as he took a step.

              In the moment of realizing that he was heavily diapered and dressed like a baby, he
              experienced shock, fear and the complete release of his bladder. He looked around in
              panic. He wanted someone - he wanted his mama, or Sally. He knew they weren't here.
              But Janet was here. She would help him.

              Janet was making breakfast when Steve's waddled uncertainly into the kitchen. She turned
              from her work to see him holding onto a corner of the kitchen bench, looking unhappily at
              her, wet-eyed and with a runny nose. His diaper was sagging heavily in his onesie. Janet
              couldn't make out what he was saying for the sobs he was heaving. Steve let go of the
              bench, stretched out both arms towards his mother-in-law, took a step and fell forwards
              onto the floor. He looked up at Janet in silent surprise for a second, then began bawling
              lustily.

              Steve responded to Janet's cuddles, and calmed down after a few minutes. Janet explained
              that Steve had wet himself in the night, that she had diapered him so that he would be
              comfortable, and that he needed to wear a diaper now because he was wetting his bed.
              Sally had told her that he had accidents like that, and it was all ok. No-one could be all
              grown up all the time. It wasn't the end of the world.

              Steve began to feel better. There was nothing to be frightened of or worried about. He
              used to wet his bed before, and this was just like that. It felt the same, and his mommy
              helped him then, just like Janet was now. So everything was ok. He felt a lot better, and
              even giggled as he looked up at Janet. She responded by tickling his stomach, and
              squeezing him close to her soft breasts as they sat on the floor together. Steve giggled
              again, and felt himself wetting, but knew that it was ok because Janet was so nice.

              Janet helped Steve up. He seemed to be stable on his feet, so she gently prised his fingers
              from her hand.

              'See,' said Janet, taking Steve's thumb from his mouth and holding his fingers against the
              thick bulge of the diaper at his crotch. 'See, you're not even a bit wet on the outside.
              That's because of your diaper. And you've got nice comfy pants that keep your diaper up
              all nice and snug. Now, we'll just see if you need a change and if you do I'll make you a
              nice and dry baby again. Lots of people, even big strong grown-ups, wear diapers too. It's
              quite normal. You're just worried about nothing. Just relax. Relax and I will fix everything.'

              Steve stopped crying and looked up at Janet.

              'That's better, baby. No tears. Now, we'll fix you up and then you can go and sort the
              trains again. Would you like that?' Janet said, kissing Steve on the nose.

              Steve thought for a moment. He did want to relax. Janet would fix everything. He smiled,
              and nodded. He liked the trains. He smiled up at her and peed into his diaper again.
              Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

              Morpheus: I am hope.

              -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

              Comment


                #8
                The Mother-In-Law by Sally KA

                Part 8 – Final of Book 1

                Janet recognised the contented, slightly faraway look of her regressing son-in-law.

                'Good boy,' said Janet, patting his thick rear. She leaned down and picked him up from the
                floor. She's very strong, thought Steve as she swung him upwards in one movement. Janet
                placed Steve's backside on her wide hip, and with his legs straddling her, she carried him
                back to his bedroom. He snuggled against her.

                Janet changed Steve into a thick double diaper and a new, pale blue onesie.

                He was still in a state of what seemed to be quiet shock, so she carried him back
                downstairs and set him on the rug. She got out a new set of trains – big, varnished wooden
                ones this time, with big wooden tracks, and left him to his own devices.

                Steve wet heavily half an hour later, sitting oblivious in the heavy diaper as he choo-
                chooed the trains around their wooden track.

                Janet was surprised at how long it had taken for him to lose his bladder control. Sally's
                choice of subject was always spot on, and this one was so handsome too! Sally's months of
                hypnosis, starting with the deep and meaningful at the executive retreat, usually meant
                that the diuretics only took a day to complete the job of robbing the subjects of their
                childhood training.

                She was a marvel, Janet thought. She had taken Steve from being pivotal in his
                organization to being so ineffective that he'd been sacked. She had been a consultant to
                Steve's firm, and had made sure that Steve attended the executive retreat set up purely to
                ensnare him. He had on his part swallowed the rubbish about hidden anxiety Sally had
                written into his information packs, and he had turned up at the retreat of his own free will,
                full of uncertainties, and ripe for the women's special treatment. And Sally had got to work
                on poor Steve, subtly reinforcing his worries and magnifying his few troubles. Sally had
                dwelled on Steve's occasional childhood bedwetting, emphasising the role his mother had
                played in making him fell better about himself at those times. By the time Sally had
                finished with him, Steve was subconsciously responding to his new wife as an authority
                figure, and his grip on his adult persona was becoming precarious.

                At the right time, Sally had delivered her poor unsettled husband Steve to Janet, who was
                now administering the coup de grace.

                Janet looked across at Steve, who was now babbling quietly to himself as he played with
                his trains.

                She mixed another little drink for him, and took it over to him in a sippy cup. He drank it
                happily and returned to his trains. She could see from the state of Steve's fat, round crotch
                that he needed another change.

                Janet pretended to ring Sally, who had been staying only a mile away in the guest lodge
                hidden near the gate. The women had been meeting daily to discuss Steve's progress, or
                regress, and Sally was now in the parlour with the phone on intercom.

                'Steve, I've got Sally on the phone!' Janet called to him a few minutes later.

                This part was always fun, thought Janet. Almost as much fun as the bank account stage,
                she thought. She looked at Steve. Sally was right. He was a prefect baby. Sally could
                certainly spot them, Janet thought proudly. She thought of her own dear husband, who
                had been Sally's first great success. Perhaps Sally should give the game away after all, and
                just look after Steve.

                She might marry this one for real, too, Janet thought, thinking of all the meaningless 'civil
                ceremonies' she had performed with their 'subjects' over the years, Janet in disguise as a
                marriage celebrant.

                Steve waddled up to Janet, looking for all the world like the oversized toddler he was fast
                becoming in mind as well as body. She hoped he was going to be able to make sense as
                she gave him the phone.

                'Hullo Steve,' said Sally. 'How are things?'

                Steve bit his lower lip as he held the phone.

                'Good,' he said. He could feel the weight of his sodden diaper, and hoped that Janet would
                not think he was being a baby for wetting them. He hoped Sally wouldn't realise that he
                had wet his diaper.

                'And what are you doing, baby?' Sally asked.

                Steve looked at Janet with a worried expression.

                'Well, tell her what you're doing,' said Janet with a broad smile.

                'Trains,' said Steve, looking down at the big wooden train he was clutching.

                'Trains,' said Sally. 'That sounds exciting. What are you doing with trains, baby?'

                Steve looked at Janet again.

                'Well, tell her what you're doing with the trains, darling,' said Janet. She loved the way
                they were often half aware of reality at this stage, but could not think fast enough to act
                other than as they had been programmed.

                Steve bit his lip harder.

                'Are you playing with your trains, baby?' prompted Sally on the phone.

                Steve was grateful for her help.

                'Yep. Playing,' he said. He peed helplessly into his diaper as he spoke, and big, silent tears
                ran down his face.

                'Playing - that must be fun! Are you being good for Janet, baby?' Sally continued.

                Steve swallowed. He wanted to ask Sally about something, about what she was doing, but
                he couldn't think how to frame the question.

                'Well, are you being a good baby for Janet?' Sally asked again.

                Steve caught the reference to being a good baby. He looked at his fat diaper, then across
                at Janet, who was smiling at him. He knew he was a good baby. He felt confident about
                that.

                'Yes,' said Steve. He licked the tears off his lips and swallowed again.

                'That's good, darling. And have you been wetting your bed?' she asked.

                'Yes,' Steve answered promptly, nodding into the phone, and beginning to sob softly.

                'And do you need to wear a diaper to bed now, baby?' Sally asked her husband.

                'Yes,' Steve replied between sobs.

                'I think you need to wear your diaper all the time now, don't you baby?' Sally asked gently.

                'Mm….,' said Steve. He felt funny in his tummy, and knew he had to hold his breath and
                push with his muscles. He looked at Janet again, hoping that he could keep what he was
                doing a secret from her. Janet smiled kindly as his bowels released some of their contents
                into his well-soaked diaper.

                He was shaking now, as well as crying. Janet watched as he gradually gave in - physically
                to the increased drugs, and mentally to his obvious condition. Perhaps the strongest ones
                really are the weakest, as Sally had often told her.

                Janet took the phone gently from Steve's shaking hand. He swayed for a moment, then sat
                heavily on the floor Janet took the handpiece from him.

                He finished filling his diaper as he turned to crawl back to his trains. Janet watched him
                with interest. She knew that it would be a long time before he walked again.

                The door on the other side of the parlour opened and Sally strode in.

                Steve stopped at the strangely familiar noise of her heels, and turned in mid-crawl to look
                at his wife.

                'Sa…S…' he began, then began to babble incoherently.

                'Can you say "Mama" for me baby?' asked Sally, kneeling next to him and stroking his head.

                Tears of shame overwhelmed Steve. He became quiet.

                'M…Mama,' he heard himself say before relapsing into helpless sobs.

                Sally settled down on the floor next to him, and pulled up her blouse. She pulled at the
                Velcro strip of her bra cup and held her big brown nipple to Steve's lips.

                'I think he needs a change first,' said Janet, smiling at her daughter.

                'Later, Mom, I think he needs some loving now,' Sally said as Steve's sobs mutated to
                murmurs. 'You go and do the books.'

                Maybe she would marry this one, she thought.

                The End.
                Choronzon: I am Anti-Life, the Beast of Judgment. I am the dark at the end of everything. The end of universes, gods, worlds… of everything. Sss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?

                Morpheus: I am hope.

                -Neil Gaiman’s Sandman Vol. 2 Issue 4

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