**Title: The Diapered Betrayal**

Prompt: wow, yeah! Look at him go!" Roger was tipsy with testosterone and abuzz with beer. Around him in the darkened living room were lounging his work buddies: Matt, Damien, and Jose, each of them laughing and joking as the gleaming, half-naked forms of the WWE wrestlers flashed across the big screen TV. Shouts and gruff guffaws as the violent spectacle unfolded swirled through the room, and he could practically feel his masculinity flexing its muscles under the influence. Yes, sir, that was him. Just a strong, macho guy with his strong, macho friends. Chilling and drinking beers like real men should. "Monica just hates this stuff, you know," Damien chortled as a particularly violent exchange left the crowd in an uproar. "Says it's, like, stupid or whatever." "Oh, yeah?" Jose sniggered. "That's the kind o' shit you get when you is a married guy, ya know! Tries to keep ya whipped and tied to her apron strings, know what I'm saying?" He elbowed his friend and took another hefty swig of beer – and of course Roger had to follow suit. "Yeah, tell me about it!" he enthused, perhaps a trifle loudly. After all, Bethany – his own wife of four years – was in the other room with Monica. Probably gossiping about the latest makeup palette or something… At which Matt cast a quizzical glance his way from behind his own beer. "Talking from experience, huh, Roger?" he chuckled, with a sidelong nod of his head toward the dining room. "Bethany not a fan of WWE, either?" "Definitely not," Roger responded instantly, even as his conscience began to whisper that maybe he shouldn't be such an ass. "But that's her problem, you know? I'm the one who wears the pants in this house, after all! If she's gonna be such a whiny baby about it, why, that's her problem-" "Oh, is it?" The cool voice from directly behind him caught him completely off guard, and he almost choked on his beer. "Wha- what the heck?" He flashed a half-swaggering, half-apologetic glance at his wife, whose eyes were cold and stern behind her glasses. "Beth, babe, you- you startled me-" "Oh, don't worry. And don't bother trying to pretend, either. I heard everything." She was pursing her lips now – never a good sign – and before he quite knew it, Roger's collar was clenched fast in her hand. "You're coming with me… babe," she ordered, and as the other three guys shot glances of surprise and tipsy amusement at one another, Roger was escorted grimly from the room. From the room, and down the hall. To the bedroom. Where, with a slam of the door, Bethany made sure that they were completely alone. "What the actual hell, Roger," she began, and even as he tried to meet her piercing gaze with manly bravado, his cheeks were already visibly reddening with guilt. "Hey, babe, I- it's not a big deal! I was just talking big-" "Too big for your britches, young man," she snapped, throwing open the closet and rummaging through the contents seemingly in search of something. "You've gone way over the line tonight, Roger. And honestly, I think it's only fair that I put you right back in your place – a lovely, cute, adorable little place that we both know you love." His eyes widened in horror as he saw the objects in her hand. "Wha- no, no! No, please, hon, you wouldn't! Not- not with company-" "Shut up and take down those stupid pants and boxers before I rip them off you!" she ordered – and Roger, cowed and beaten by her thunderous appearance, complied. "On the floor, now," came next, and again he complied, shivering in chilled anxiety as his bare buttocks came in contact with the carpet. "Now hold still – or you and your balls will wish to god you hadn't." Open went the crinkling monstrosity in her capable hands: a MegaMax, thick and pristine white and more than capable of handling an entire twelve hours of indiscretions. Under the cringing Roger's ass it slid, and tight around his waist it went before he could do more than moan out a few little terrified protests. "There! Now that's much more appropriate for you," Bethany exclaimed, straightening up and gazing down with narrowed eyes as Roger wriggled and squirmed, amid a flurry of crinkles, to his feet. "You really wanted those stupid guys to think you were as cool and 'manly' as them, huh? Bet they'll have quite another opinion of you when they meet the real you: the whiny, subby little diaper boy I get to tease every night…" "Okay, march! Go back and play with your friends," she ordered – and the playful swat she dealt his now thickly-padded rear elicited a horrified whimper from his lips. "No-! No, but- but, my pants-" "Mine now," Bethany smirked, and tossed them gaily into the clothes hamper. "And actually… if you're going to be such a whiny baby about it…" Into his half-open mouth she rammed the giant, baby-blue pacifier she'd pulled from the hidden stash. And laughed outright at the terrified gaze her now-muted husband gave her. "Oh, but you have no choice now!" she giggled, as out through the now-open bedroom door she thrust him. "You're going to head out there and let them see exactly what happens when you cross your lovely wife." He whimpered. He dragged his feet. He shuddered and sought desperately for any possible way out. But there was none. She knew his secret. She had the upper hand, and she'd be more than happy to call for help – and explain it all – to anyone the moment he tried to resist… So out he trudged. Like a gladiator condemned to die before the lions in frilly bonnet, a pink diaper, frilly pink booties a bib thats said mamas cutie patootie, and a big pacifier. "What the actual fuck?" "Dude, really?" "No way – that's not really-" "Fuck yeah, it is! Dude, what gives? What's with the baby getup?" "Guess we know who wears the pants in the house little baby waby huh?" "There seems to have been a slight misunderstanding," Bethany announced, pushing her mute and shrinking husband forward into the den. "I heard that he claimed to be the one who wears the pants in this household. I'm simply correcting the record – by showing you how my dear Roger looks when y'all are not around. I don't suppose any of you need an explanation of what he's wearing, do you?" Damien, half-incredulous, bent down to jab gingerly with his beer bottle at the thick bulk of the padding between Roger's legs. "Holy frick, it really is a diaper, isn't it? He- he doesn't… surely-" "What, use them?" Bethany's tone was laced with laughter. "Oh, honey, does he! He's my oversized supersoaker anytime I want him to be. Pisses himself until he's practically begging for a change." "Pweeve- mmooo-" Roger meeped out his inarticulate protests, but between the uproarious laughter of his erstwhile buddies and the din of the TV, no one was listening shush precious cutesy rogies grown up are talking she then slaps his diapers and pinch his cheeks. "Actually, I've got a lovely idea," Bethany smiled, catching the gaze of each of the men in turn. "You all like betting, don't you? Isn't that one of those strong, manly sorts of things to do?" A murmur of "yeah" and "course!" met her, and she smiled once more – now more dangerously than ever. "What I suggest is that each of you place bets on my sweet wittle precious baby pooh here," and dealt his backside another hefty thwack. "Place bets on how long it's going to take until he ends up pissing himself and flooding that diaper of his. He's already had quite a few beers, so it won't be long now – promise." Oh, the way the visible shock on their faces gave way to smiles of amusement! "Wha- like, really?" "Really," she affirmed, his friends were over the moon and she added: do you care if i join you in your cards for widdle roger is not big enough to play with the big guys she then took roger seat and sat him on her kneee: isn't that right baby waby coochie coooh. The men again erupted in laughter and damien said of course you can join us and he then said awwww roger pooh we din't know you were such a sissy baby, and pinch roger cheek while patronizing gav ticlkes him under his chin guchi goooo. They all laughed and Bethany kept bouncing roger. Roger pleaded for her to stop but it all sounded like gooogo gaga with the pacifier he din't dare to take out. Roger then tried to get a bear beacuse maybe that could make it more endurable but Bethany said: No beer for the little mamas boy, Damien can you get the babys bottle in the fridge?:Damian' laughed and said:Does the baby really have a baba he got it and asked if they each could give roger pooh the bottle she said yes. And roger who now as red as a tomatoe of humiliation was on each on his friends knee getting a bottle feeding with them saying here comes the choo choo train or open up for the aireoplane. They also took turn bouncing him and when he finnaly wet his diaper he was on Damians knee damian laughed and said oh no Cutey Patootie have made a bom boom in his diddy. Awwww and Bethany laughed and said well i think i win the bet gents pay up we can play another round but first it over rogys bedtime he need his nappy wappy she then carried him into another room with a pram and buggled him in in and gave him a big patronizing kiss on the cheek leaving a red lipstick mark and said hope you learned who wear the big pants in this house and who is just a mamas boy or should i say widdle precious sissy poopie princces you were about to protest but she slapped a pacifier in your mouth turned on the bay mobile and snickered beddy bye baby waby and if you don't sleep i will spank you in front of your mates and make you dance in your tutu, i will change you in the morning you were defeated and your reputation ruined. You could hear when Bethany lef she yelled okey boys now when the toodler have been put in his pram to sleep let have some fun and the guys yelled hell yeah. you cried yourself to sleep with the mobile playing a lulaby.