Howard opened his mouth expecting an oral thermometer to be placed within. Instead, Anita put her hand on his back and quickly forced him over her knees. Howard panicked, thinking that she was about to spank him. He screamed, “No, Mama. No spank! Me good! See? Me make babytalk! No spank!”
Anita held him down with one hand while she unscrewed the cap on the rectal thermometer and said, “Mommy’s not going to spank you, Sweetheart. She just wants to take your temperature!”
“No Mama! Not that!”, Howard yelled as she dipped her finger in the jar of vaseline and scooped out a large dollop of the highly refined lubricant with her fingertip. She inserted her finger into the crack between his cheeks and worked the vaseline well up into his anal area. Howard squirmed at the unwarranted intrusion into his body. “Stop that, Howard! Do you want a spanking?”, Anita said firmly.
Howard grew still on her lap and allowed her to thrust the thermometer up into his rectum. Never had he felt so naked and vulnerable. He could feel her warm palm against his bottom holding the thermometer in place. The thermometer made him feel like a bowel movement was imminent and the presence of her hand somehow made him feel as if it was assuming control of his bodily functions. It made him feel simultaneously helpless and protected. Howard groaned involuntarily when the thermometer moved slightly within him. Anita thought he needed something to distract him, so she said, “Suck on your thumb, Honeybunch. It will make you feel better.”
Howard did as he was told and began to furiously suck on his thumb. Anita was right, it did make him feel better. When she popped the thermometer out of his bottom, he was sure that he had pooped while lying on her lap. She stood him up and said, “There now, Honeybunch, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Wan’ go potty!”, he said plaintively.
Anita nodded turned the object over on the floor that she had brought in earlier. It was a child’s potty chair! “No Mama! No baby potty!”, Howard cried.
“Do you want to fall off the big potty and hurt your head? No, Baby. You need to use the little boy’s potty so you won’t get hurt,” Anita replied.
Howard passively let himself be led over to the little potty to sit down. Anita made sure that the splash shield was raised between his legs and strapped him in the contoured seat. Then she said, “Mommy wants you to make a big poopy for her in the potty! Okay, Sweetheart?”
“But I can’t while you’re watching!”, he whined.
“Howard! What did Mommy say about talking like that? Do you want your mouth washed out with soap?”, Anita exclaimed fiercely.
Howard looked up at his “adopted Mommy” with real fear in his eyes. He knew that if he said one more inappropriate word, she would carry out her threat without hesitation. He lowered his head and said, “Me sorry, Mama.”
“That’s better, Honeybunch. We can’t afford to have you make a mistake like that again. Do you want Mommy to lose her job? Do you want to go to prison? We need to find a way to remind you that you’re a baby and that you should talk like one. What could we do to help you remember? I know, I have just the thing in my pocket!”, Anita said brightly.
She reached in her pocket and withdrew a flesh-colored object that she kept hidden in her fist as she bent down and approached his face. With a single motion she popped the end of the object into his mouth. Howard felt the thing with his tongue and realized what she had put between his lips; a pacifier! She had put a Goddamn pacifier in his mouth!
Anita smiled at him and said, “Come on, Sweetheart! Go potty so Mommy can put you to bed! Can’t you try a little? Just for Mommy?”
Howard tried mightily to have a bowel movement, but nothing would come. His embarrassment at being strapped into a child’s potty and instructed to use it as if he was being toilet trained was consummate. He couldn’t even urinate, much less dump a load into the plastic container beneath his bottom. When he looked down between his legs at the pitiful, picayune appendage that was trapped behind the splash shield, he wanted to cry. It took every bit of his self control to keep from bursting into tears in front of Anita. As waves of self pity and fear rolled over him, he enumerated the extent of his losses. His beard and his muscles were gone. The tiny little cock and balls that remained of his manhood only served to remind him of his loss. His docile wife had turned into a domineering mother who seemed to be bent on breaking him to her will. His job, his mistress, his home and all he owned were no longer his. He had either lost or signed away everything. He couldn’t even sign a contract without Anita’s approval. He had become a penniless child who didn’t have the legal right to make his own decisions. Even his basic right to speak like an adult had been stripped from him and had been replaced with the command to speak near-incomprehensible baby gibberish. His adult privileges had been taken from him and traded for the trappings of a tot. Every passing day meant a further descent into the helpless, dependent pit from which there was no escape. Howard closed his eyes as tears rolled unbidden down his cheeks. He had been more emasculated than any man in history. He wanted to die. What had he ever done to deserve this fate?