A Female-Dominated Household

By David P
The author does not respond to my emails, so I assume he is not interested in feedback.

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This story is intended for adults only. It contains depictions of forced nudity, spanking, and sexual activity of preteen and young teen children for the purpose of punishment. None of the behaviors in this story should be attempted in real life, as that would be harmful and/or illegal. If you are not of legal age in your community to read or view such material, please leave now.

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If you were to walk into my house, you would not have any reason to suspect that our family lives differently than any of our neighbors. Not until you were to take a closer look at the bedrooms. On my husband's dresser in the master bedroom, you would find a rectal thermometer and a jar of Vaseline, a bottle of baby oil, a tub of baby wipes, a stack of adult diapers and plastic pants and several latex rubber dildos, all in plain view to anyone who would happen to walk by. And if you were to look further into that dresser, you would see no men's clothing at all. Women's size 3 jeans, jeggings, panties and camisoles, women's tops. My son's room, which is done up in full girly-girl style, is similar. A dresser full of girls clothes. And a stack of diapers and plastic pants on top of the dresser in plain view.

I am the head of this family, the head of household, the protector and provider. My husband is the stay-at-home helpmate, the nurturer, the domestic diva. The sissy. We have two daughters -- ages 10 and 13 -- and a 15-year-old son.

And here is the secret to how I hold it together. Rectal discipline is the rule here. Our son submits to the authority of his younger sister, the 13-year-old. Each day after they come home from school, he is given rectal training. First, an over the knee spanking, then, while he is still over her lap his temp is checked with the rectal thermometer. A diaper is spread out on the sofa and he is instructed to lie face down. She then pumps a dildo into his anus vigorously until he begins to cry. The dildo is left in place for 20 or 30 additional minutes as he lies face down on the couch. Finally, his little sister tapes up the diaper. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening in a diaper, plastic pants and a girl's T.

As for my husband, he receives the same treatment, albeit later. Sometime well after dinner, I tell him "time for your rectal," eliciting a smirk from my two girls, both of whom know full well what is coming. He immediately goes upstairs to our bedroom and removes his clothes down to his panties and camisole. I place a diaper on the bed and remove his panties. He lies face down on the diaper and is perfectly silent and still. First a spanking, then the rectal thermometer, then a dildo, reaming him out until tears come. This leaves him docile and completely compliant. After 20 additional minutes with the dildo imbedded in his ass, I come back into the room and remove it and tell him to turn over on the diaper so I can apply some baby oil to his hairless genitals. Finally, I tape up his diaper and lift up his legs to pull on a pair of crinkly plastic pants. My daughters are not present (unless they happen to walk by the open bedroom door) but they're very much aware that their father is undergoing rectal discipline of exactly the same sort as their brother.

Both father and son are diapered overnight because they tend to play with their little wee-wees constantly. If it were not for the diapers, there would be stains on all the sheets, mattresses, comforters, underwear and god-knows-what-else. They remain diapered until they get dressed to leave the house the following day. It is not uncommon for them to go more than 24 hours waddling around in diapers on the weekend. My husband is quite accustomed to this. His own mother kept him diapered at night through his high school years, so he's used to the routine. (She even gave me some of his old plastic pants!)

Here is what our daughters have come to understand: That teen boys and immature sissy men such as their father are not to be trusted. They both have the emotional mindset of young children. They need correction daily to toe the line. They must be reminded of their status. I used to administer our son's daily rectal discipline from just before the time he began puberty, but our middle daughter, who was fascinated by the power exchange, has now taken over supervising her big brother. She enjoys applying the dildo and making him cry. And I've had to warn her on more than one occaison to stop once he begins to cry. (My favorite candid photo of her shows her carrying a jar of Vaseline in one hand and a very large dildo in the other. The positively wicked look on her face is classic.) He has become more docile and accepting of his fate lately. He will even tell my daughter when he has ejaculated in his diaper and needs a change.

One particular incident recently left me puzzled. When I came home from work, my middle daughter told me that her brother had received his rectal routine, and at the end, when it was time to remove the dildo, flip him over and tape up his diaper he had asked her earnestly and emphatically to please leave the dildo in place for just a bit longer. She indulged him.

My husband, unfortunately, is not so forthright with our middle daughter. He has not been able to bring himself to tell her when he has made one of his little gooey messes. I expect that is eventually going to change. Why in the world should he feel ashamed around his own daughter? It is not as if she sees him as a man. One of these days, he's going to ask me in that whiny little voice of his, "dear, could you change my ... my diaper?" At which point I may instruct a very capable 13-year-old girl to do it. Of course he'll be profoundly uncomfortable at first. But this isn't about his comfort. And he's not the one calling the shots in this household.

Both my daughters are quick to admonish their brother to not tug on his little thing. And not to rub it through the diaper and plastic pants. I was very pleased recently to overhear my 10-year-old daughter remonstrating with him. "Stop rubbing your wee-wee! Stop that right now or I'll tell mom!"

I have considered transitioning both my husband and my son out of panties and into daytime diapers, but this would be a lot more work and I'm hesitant to place that extra responsibility on my middle child. Feminine napkins may be something to look into if the panty staining continues. As much as I would like to, I can't be home 24/7 to ride herd on them. Someone around here has to earn a paycheck.

Although at age 10 our youngest girl has no direct disciplinary dutues, she has grown up in a female-led household where rectal discipline and diaper punishment are tools of control. That's the only reality she has ever known. I had her big brother back in night diapers by the time she was in kindergarten. And I'm looking forward to the day soon when she can begin to assert her own brand of authority over the "little boys." For now, she watches her big sister carefully, studying how control is properly applied to a sissy bottom.

Both girls have asked me to explain why their daddy must be diapered at night. And I've told them that he suffers from the same "little problem" as their brother. He keeps touching himself. He simply cannot help it. And when he's not tugging on his silly peenie, he's humping the pillow. Which they find hilarious. Increasingly, they understand why he is treated as just another child in this household. Every evening they can hear him crying as I administer his dildo training, and it just serves to reinforce to them that he is a childlike creature to be pitied.

I have been blessed to have the advice and support of two outstanding women in the medical profession. Our pediatrician is a very wise and compassionate woman I've known since our son was born. I trust her a great deal. Although he is now 15, she continues to instruct her medical assistant to take his temp rectally and give him an enema no matter what he's there for. He could be there for an ear infection and he understands he's still going to have his panties taken down. The pediatrician also routinely checks his peenie and prostate at every visit. She's assured me that our son isn't the only high school boy to be in night diapers and that it really isn't anything at all to be concerned about. She also told me that if I ever wanted to bring him in for an office visit while he's diapered that would be no problem. There simply is no reason for false modesty around a health care provider. Apparently her medical assistant keeps a large stock of youth-sized diapers for big boys who have control issues.

Since he is a teen, she is always careful to question him about his sexual practices. He did let slip that because of his docile, girlish manner and clothes, several of the boys at school had been pestering him, pressuring him for sexual favors. The doctor gave him some very specific advice about safer sex, particularly about servicing boys orally. (Try to persuade them to cum on your hair or your face, not in your mouth, if you can.) He really seemed to appreciate having someone to talk to about this. Shortly after this little chat, I discreetly placed a half-dozen condoms in the little "purse" he carries in his daypack. I really hope he's never in a position where he must use them.

The internist who cares for my husband is also a modern no-nonsense woman very much in the same mold as myself. So, at my suggestion, my husband receives the exact same routine as our son. He has his temp taken rectally as a matter of course and is given an enema during each office visit. The nurses and assistants seem to enjoy this ridiculous charade immensely. Unlike my son, my husband is completely used to being around women while wearing just panties and a camisole. And he's relaxed being ordered up into the stirrups where his prostate and peenie are checked.

His doctor has let me know that over time sissy men such as my husband will come to regard their daily dildo training as their primary sexual outlet, despite the obvious discomfort that goes along with the procedure. It's my hope that both he and our son will learn that their prostate glands are the only sexual organ that counts. And that what little they have up front is just silly and useless.

Both my husband and son are used to being asked by their respective doctors in excrutiating detail how much they masturbate and how. And this is logged on their charts. They both are on long term testosterone-suppression prescriptions, which the doctors and I have agreed is the best way to keep their chronic peenie pulling under at least some degree of control. Since our son has been on Puericil since he was 12, his penis size has remained roughly that of a little boy. As for my sissy husband, his doctor and I have been discussing the eventual option of an elective bilateral orchiectomy -- the removal of his marble-sized balls, as a permanent solution to curtail his testosterone production. For now, it's on the back burner because our health insurance almost certainly won't cover elective procedures.

If you think that all I do outside of work is care for two girls and two infantile sissies, that's not the case at all. I have a very rich and robust sex life, it just doesn't involve my husband at all. He has not been allowed to touch me or see me undressed in over 10 years now. I have several male friends whom I date regularly. These men are all very gifted physically, which makes them the complete opposite of my husband. And the family is entirely aware of this, including our extended family. I have made it perfectly clear to everyone in the family network that I am very satisfied with my intimate friends. The rules are simple: When I am out on my dates, our middle daughter is in complete control of the household, including supervising her father. He understands that when I am not there her word is law and if he should make the mistake of mouthing off to her, he's going to find himself bare-assed over her knee in short order.

Our extended family also knows fully about our household's rectal training regimen. My sister and mother are now quite comfortable speaking to my husband directly, asking him if he has cum in his diaper or panties. I did flippantly ask my sister recently if she was at all interested in trying her hand at giving her 15-year-old nephew' his rectal training. She laughed and just said "My time sticking slippery things up baby boys' butts is long over. No thanks!" My mother has half-jokingly suggested I buy matching cribs for my husband and son. I must admit, I take no pleasure out of sharing the marital bed with my husband, so this is something to consider -- particularly if I eventually bring a real man home to attend to my womanly needs.

The rectal discipline regimen plus night diapering only take my daughter and I about 40 minutes a day. And that's a very small price to pay for peace in the house. My "little boys" are very much loved and cared for. And my daughters are learning each day what it means for girls and women to be in complete control.

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