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Poll: Which petticoated male would you rather be?
Roger
Max
Robert
Alvin Westwick!
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The Petticoating League: The Secret Project (Part Three)
#1
The Petticoating League: The Secret Project (Part Three)

Roger Wasserman woke to the feeling of his wife straddling him. As he came to his sense, he felt a rush of contentment as he watched her lithe body stretching across his. And then the tightness registered.

‘Ooh he’s swelling up there isn’t he?’ laughed Madeleine as she gripped his chastity cage lightly in her hands.

‘Mmmm,’ moaned Roger. Even the sensation of her fingers against his testicles felt wonderful.

‘How long’s it been now since we let him out?’ she asked. He cringed a bit at the completely unnecessary ‘we’ - since when did he have a say in these things?

‘Nine days…’

‘Nine days what, Roger?’

‘Nine days, Miss…’

‘Mmmm, just another eight to go. If my counting is correct…’

It didn’t take him long to do the maths. He had been counting down the days ever since his last orgasm. Originally it was 14 days. And then Madeleine decided to add three extra days as a punishment for him forgetting to do her laundry. 

‘Yes that’s correct, Miss.’

‘Mmmhmmm. Well did you know Alvin and Marie Westwick are now doing one release per month rather than two? I don’t want the rest of the League thinking I’m soft….’

He cringed at the mention of Alvick Westwick. A highly successful businessman and former captain of the cricket team, Westwick was widely known as the alpha male of his local village (some 20 miles from the Wassermans). Yet within the league, he was considered as the strictest petticoated of all the adult men. He was - as Madeleine had once euphemistically dubbed him - ‘a man of contrasts’. Or more accurately, he was the poor dupe even petticoated guys felt sorry for.

Roger had never forgotten the time he’d seen Alvin dressed in a french maid outfit and a rather visible nappy as he washed the car of the teenage daughter of another League member. Curiously, Roger had asked Madeleine if she knew what Alvin’s misdemeanour had been to end up on a service mission to the daughter of a League member. Apparently he’d forgotten to water the plants. That was it.

And that wasn’t all. When the girl - Melissa Armitage - inspected her car she apparently found a smear of mud at the bottom of one door. As a result, Alvin had been cuffed to a garden chair whereupon the 17 year old Melissa took the hosepipe, wedged it into the back of his nappy, and turned on the tap - all while Marie Westwick watched laughing from the sun-lounge as her husband writhed around helplessly for 10 whole minutes.

Amongst the ladies of the League, the hosepipe story had become legendary. In recognition of the occasion, Melissa Armitage was elevated to a full member of the League on the day of her 18th birthday. And as for Alvin, well…. Funnily enough, he never forgot to water the plants again...

‘I still think two weeks for you though - provided you behave,’ she whispered into her ear as she grinded her pelvis slowly against him.

‘Amelia Barnes says you’re doing a good job on that little project of hers,’ she continued. ‘Keep that up and maybe I’ll knock one of those extra days off…’

And with that, Madeleine Wasserman hoisted herself up over her husband’s face and received that morning’s entitlement of oral sex.
---

Amelia Barnes was awoken from her afternoon nap by the noise of the backdoor slamming shut. She turned around to see her son, Max, racing up the stairs.

‘Come here Max,’ she said - her voice terse and unmodulated.

‘Just a second please, Mum. I just need the bathroom…’

‘I said here, Max. Now.’

As she expected her son walked back down the stairs and entered the sitting room. He stood in the doorway and awaited instructions.

‘How was your first day in public in your new punishment nappies?’ she asked.

‘I… I really learnt my lesson,’ he began to stammer.

That was one thing that always amused her about petticoated males: whatever their age, you could always stump them with an easy question. What was he supposed to say? Anything positive and he’d be further humiliating himself. Anything negative and he might find himself subject to further punishment. It was a predicament she’d perfected on her husband over the years.

‘I bet you did. It’s good you had the weekend to practice your walk in them, isn’t it? I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted to waddle around school like you waddled around the garden on Saturday.’

Yes, mum,’ he said.

‘See? When I put you in them on Saturday you made all that fuss. But I was doing it for your own good, wasn’t I?’

‘Yes, mum,’ he repeated - perfectly embodying the defeated yet disciplined tone of the petticoated male.

‘Well let's see how well you walk in them now, then. After all that practice I bet you’re a natural!’

‘But… I…. I really need the bathroom…’

She tensed up and shot him a stare. ‘Excuse me, Max? Is that a refusal to do what I say? Are we going to have to extend your nappy time for another day? Or maybe for the rest of the week?’

‘No…. I…. I…’ 

She patted the side of the chair. ‘Over here then. Pronto…’

He began to walk across the room, his eyes still looking slightly downwards. She looked for the telltale bulk - and that hint of a waddle that even the most experienced nappied males tended to do - but to her surprise she could see none of it. Surely he hadn’t dared to disobey her?

‘Max, you did wear your nappy, didn’t you?’

‘I did, of course. I wore it to school… but…’ 

His face was turning bright red and his eyes were starting to well up.

‘But what, Maxwell Barnes?’

‘But I peed myself…’

Amelia was incredulous. ‘I’m sorry - you peed yourself?! After all that fuss that you were ‘too big for nappies’, you actually peed yourself?!

‘Yes….’

‘Oh my, well isn’t that something? Well I have good news and bad news for you, Maxwell Barnes. The good news is I’m going to let you have your knickers back - since you told me so quickly. The bad news is that you’re going to write me 500 words - by hand - on how you came to have such a silly little accident. Do I make myself clear?’

And with that, her petticoated son nodded in affirmation, thanked her for the punishment, and walked forlornly to his bedroom - just like he'd been trained.

---

‘GOTCHA!’ crowed Amber Longley as she yanked down her older brother’s shorts. She roared with laughter as the sight of a slightly strained and stiff plastic nappy that was now exposed..

Robert fumbled as quickly as possible to pull up his shorts but found them caught on the stool on which he’d been sitting to do his homework. As he bent forward to get a proper hold of the waistband, he inadvertently pushed the nappy on display even further.

‘Whatcha do this time, nappy boy?’ she giggled as she saddled up next to him. She was still in her school blouse and was slowly making her way through a bowl of banana custard.

‘I’m not telling you.’

‘Yes you are.’

‘You don’t have discipline privileges over me.’

‘I don’t have them yet,’ she said. ‘But in six months, nappy boy - different story!’

And she was exactly right. By the rules of the Longley household, females, unlike males, were considered to be fully responsible adults by age 17. At this point, they would not only be considered exempt from any petticoat punishments, they would also assume disciplinary privileges over remaining petticoatees. Males, on the other hand, had no such rules. Which meant that, at nearly 18 years old, Robert was just a few months away from seeing his younger sister become his new disciplinarian.

‘Well ask me in six months then,’ he replied bluntly. 

‘Well then I’ll know exactly why you’re in nappies - because I’ll be the one who ordered it,’ she replied - poking her tongue out at him.

He shuffled slightly uncomfortably and looked again at his homework.

‘It’s going to be sooooo fun,’ she crowed. ‘“Wait, did you just refuse to turn down your crappy music? Nappies for you, Robbie!”’  She gently thwacked her spoon against his bulky bottom as to emphasise the point.

‘I’ll be at university in nine months’ time anyway…’

‘Oooh, guess who I saw today by the way,’ she said - as her brother felt some relief she’d changed the topic.

‘Ryan Mackie. He’s so cute.’

‘He’s a meathead.’

‘Yeah, well, anyway I kinda let on about the whole petticoating thing and he was like super bugging me over which guys were involved with it.’

She sat back and watched it dawn on Robert.

‘Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him. Well, not about you anyway. He was talking about stealing a nappy boy’s shorts and putting them up the flagpole - and I didn’t want Aunt Camilla being in a bad mood because you lost your uniform.’

Robert’s cockiness had all but vanished now. He looked slightly shell-shocked and looked her in the eye.

‘You won’t tell him, will you?’ he asked, sounding rather desperate.

‘Nope. Provided you answer my questions in future.’

He shuffled awkwardly again in his chair and gulped slightly.

‘So big brother, why are you in nappies today?’

‘Aunt Camilla caught me trying to watch the Babe Channel on my laptop again.’

‘Ha! Now was that so bad? Ooh, wait Ryan told me something kinda crazy actually. Let me whisper it to you…’

He shifted along the stool slightly so she could get closer to him. He could feel the softness of her breath on his ear as she sat down. And then within a second came a different sensation: a slight tug at his waist followed by a cool, sticky and sludgy sensation starting at the small of his back.

‘He said you’ve got banana custard in your nappy!’ And with that she leapt up away from the study table, roaring with laughter as she went. Boys were just so easy to trick and embarrass.


----

Help me write more - let me know which bit really made you cringe with humiliation  Big Grin Big Grin
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#2
Quite possibly the best chapter yet; is the entire ‘Maledom’ of the town in nappies. Wink

You have some imaginative ideas; on the off chance you find yourself in charge of a petticoatee, they best hide the hosepipes.  Big Grin
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