That week was difficult. From that night onward, he couldn’t think of anything except Julie. Having sex with Julie, have Julie play with him some more, doing all sorts of things to her. But he was taped up tightly inside of his diaper, and he couldn’t touch himself. He wasn’t really ever out of her presence for more than a few moments. She seemed to be around him almost all the time. Even when he showered, she was in the bathroom just on the other side of the frosted glass of the shower. He couldn’t jerk off if he wanted to.

And he wanted to.

Kind of. But it was also undeniably fun to go through the week with Julie teasing and taunting him.

During the day she would pat his diaper and make double entendres that her sons could not possibly catch. And at bedtime, the scarves came out. She didn’t use other toys, but she did use some kind of slippery liquid, and drive him nearly crazy.

She would push him to the brink, then back off, then repeat. He would be sweating within minutes, but could not do anything about it. He had no idea how she knew how to get him that close. He got so crazy that he tried to thrust into her hand. She would laugh and move her hand just out of the way. She seemed heartless, except that it obviously took a lot of time and effort for her. And it wasn’t like she was getting any relief either. He tried to remember that.

Every day, he had difficulty thinking of anything other than Julie and her torture sessions. He hated them, but wanted them at the same time. He had nothing he could do with his energy. It was such a weird feeling to be so wound up without the ability to do anything about it. Every comment, every look was charged with sexual tension. Julie could see it in his eyes, and was smiling at him constantly, which, in turn, drove him even crazier.

He tried to keep himself busy. When he could, he would clean their apartment. When she would let him, he would rub her feet or shoulders. Her touch became electric to him, somehow, and this was a form of magic he could not understand. Was it really hormonal? Maybe she knew things about the human body that he, as a doctor, did not.

Regardless, he longed to have her near, maybe more than usual. He was conflicted about whether he thought this experiment was something he wanted to continue. At times he felt like he was flying, but he longed almost constantly to come. Or for her to touch him. Both? He wasn’t even sure anymore—his feelings and wants and needs were muddled together into a complex knot of energy.

On Saturday night, she changed his diaper, then tied him to the bed as before. She untaped and pulled down his diaper. Then she lightly stroked him until he was hard and starting to breathe faster.

But then she disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the shower start. Seriously? NOW she showered, while he couldn’t move? He passed the time thinking of how good things were going to be once her period was finished. He imagined taking her over the bed, or in the kitchen, or on the sofa. Not that any of that would likely happen, as Julie had definite preferences and usually liked to be in control. But he could still imagine what it would be like to be the one who decided when and how they had sex.

But when she was in control, that was incredibly sexy too, wasn’t it? He pictured her smile when she signaled it was time to fool around. He felt her hands on his diaper. Now, the simple act of untaping his diaper made him hard. He had never been on the bottom during sex before he met Julie, and since then he had never been on top. That was odd, he supposed, but he had grown to love looking up at her, her face lost in pleasure, her breasts dangling freely. The way she ground her pelvis against his, used him for her pleasure. That was so hot. If only he could touch himself right now!

Suddenly the door to her bathroom opened, and Julie emerged, wearing lingerie he had not seen before. A soft pink babydoll nightie hung from her slim body, and her face showed that she knew the effect it would have on him. She glanced down at his penis, still hard, and saw it twitch hungrily.

She smiled, retrieved something from the duffel bag and sat next to him on the bed. He strained at the scarves, trying to touch her with any part of his body. Suddenly she produced a blindfold and fastened it around his eyes, and all light disappeared. He immediately became aware of how she smelled, clean with soap, and a familiar, reassuring scent that made him feel close to her. He realized a moment later that he was smelling baby powder, which smelled a little different on her. He didn’t stop to think that by now, after so many weeks of use while she changed him, that it was a smell that excited him.

She stroked his cheek, then ran her fingertips along his ears, tickling him deliberately. Tied and blind, he was forced to wait to see what was next. His skin felt electric, as every part of him wanted her touch.

She drew her fingers down his neck, then trailed them across his chest to his nipples, which she was happy to see were hard. His sharp intake of air told her they were also sensitive. The week of chastity had apparently charged his body with an insane amount of energy. This was better than she had hoped for. Whether or not he wanted to repeat this experiment, she thought, didn’t really matter. She would now be controlling his orgasm frequency. But she thought she could probably convince him it was a good idea over the next few minutes.

She pinched his nipples gently, eliciting gasps. She leaned down and touched one with her tongue. His body became rigid. She played it back and forth and he didn’t move a muscle. She nibbled it a little and she felt him squirm, then buck a bit as she started to suck.

He had no idea his nipples could feel like that. It was mostly like tickling, and they were so sensitive. He couldn’t move out of the way, and had to wait for her to tire of it. Finally she relented, leaving him panting.