His First Shopping Trip (Raising Husbands story preview)

I don’t usually post story previews, but I like this one a lot and want to share at least some of it with non-subscribers. This is about half the story. You can read the rest on my SubscribeStar.

My other ABDL story series, I’m Not a Little Girl and Done Adulting, are on my Patreon and Amazon.

For those not familiar, my Raising Husbands stories are set in a universe in which men have been demoted to the status of toddlers, and, through socialization and lack of education, are kept subjugated, diapered, and happy. Stronger sexual themes in these stories than in my other work. All characters are over 18.

His First Shopping Trip

Newlywed life was bewildering for Noah. He’d only met his wives twice before the wedding, and one of those was when he was told he was marrying Rachel and Diane. After that, it all happened so fast. The three women agreed on a dowry, not that Noah knew anything about that, and two weeks later he was married. He went home with his mom that afternoon and stayed there for two more weeks while his wives honeymooned, all the while his mother explaining to him that he belonged to them now, and that while he had to obey all women, he had to obey them first. They made the decisions for him now, and that intimidated the twenty-six-year-old, who had only ever belonged to his mom, as if moving away from her wasn’t intimidating already.

Two days after they returned from their trip, the forty-year-old Rachel and thirty-six-year-old Diane picked Noah up and took him to his new home. He was quiet, but he was gratified to see that at least so far, his impression has been correct. They were nice. They even took him shopping the next day so he could pick out some things for his room. He picked out his own bedding and some new clothes, and after the next stop they were going to take him to the toy store.

But first, a store he’d never been to before. His wives didn’t tell him what store it was, but that didn’t bother him. Noah was used to going shopping with women – his mom, his aunts, mansitters – and it was usually boring but something he learned to tolerate, especially with the promise of a toy at the end if he behaved himself. He was already zoned out as they pulled into the parking space in front of the small store, not noticing the look that passed between Diane and Rachel.

A bell rang when they entered, and from the back they heard a man crying and a sharp smack followed by another and another. “Someone’s getting a spanking,” Noah said and absentmindedly reached back to rub his bottom through his diaper.

“It sure sounds like it,” Rachel said cheerfully, as if proud of how clever he was to recognize the sound. She was just patronizing him, of course, the sound of men crying and butts being spanked recognizable to anyone and so common it was hardly worth remarking on.

“You don’t need many spankings,” Diane said, “because you’re a good man, right?”

“Mhmm,” he said, proud that even during his naughty streaks he only needed about one spanking a week, not like some of the men at daycare who could hardly go a day without ending up bare bottomed over someone’s knee. “If you’re good while we’re here, you’ll get to pick an extra toy,” she said, though he planned to be good regardless.

“Hello,” a woman in a pair of blue doctor’s scrubs said as she approached them with her hand outstretched, “are you Diane and Rachel,” she asked.

“We are.”

“I’m Susan. We spoke on the phone. This must be Noah.” She appeared older than she sounded, nearing sixty, fit, and with a mane of thick, silver hair tied in a ponytail.

“Say hello,” Diane prompted him.

“Hello, Miss.” Noah was instantly nervous, seeing her in the scrubs. Was this the doctor? Was he going to get a shot? Or worse, was it the dentist?

“Hello,” Susan said kindly but without much conviction, turning back to Diane and Rachel. “Right this way.”

They followed, with Diane bringing up the rear and noting Noah’s short steps. “What’s wrong, hubby?”

“Um, is this, uh, is this the doctor?”

“No,” she said and took his hand. “She isn’t a doctor. It’s okay. We’ll be done real soon, and then we can go to the toy store. Just be a good man like you know how to be.”

Susan overheard his question. A lot of the men asked it. She knew it was the scrubs that did it, making the men uncomfortable, but they were designed to make the women feel comfortable, and that’s who mattered. She led them into a room with a padded table. Noah didn’t want to believe his new wife had lied to him, but the table was just like the one at the doctor. It even had the paper on it, and a set of stirrups, but changing tables had those, too. He was used to those. “Could you get him down to his diaper for me,” Susan asked.

“Shirt too?”

“Yes, please.”

Noah began to shake as Rachel undressed him. He was used to women undressing him, or at least a few women in particular – his mom, his grandma, his aunts, his daycare teachers, his mansitters – but so far only Diane had undressed, and only a couple of times. These new women who he barely knew, for some reason he couldn’t articulate, made him feel nervous and embarrassed when they saw him nude, like it wasn’t right that they could see him naked but he couldn’t see them naked. He kept his hands at his side and started to shake, scared of doctors and dentists and even more scared that they wouldn’t tell him she was a doctor. Then he saw the tray on the counter, covered with a blue drape, and his mind raced with what might be underneath it.

“Honey,” Diane said. “Honey,” she said again, turning his face toward hers gently, “it’s okay. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you here, okay?”

“Am I getting a shot,” he asked.

“No,” Susan said as she finished getting something pulled up on her tablet. “I’m not a doctor or nurse.” To Diane, she asked, “Is he clean?”

Diane reached around and felt his butt. “Clean but wet.”

“That’s fine. Could you get him on the table please and untape his diaper, but leave it folded over him?”

Diane chuckled. “We’re newlyweds, but we already learned that trick. Our hubby here got me right in the chest yesterday during his very first diaper change from me.”

“So smart to be doing this right away,” Susan said. “I tell newlyweds to do this, and so many of them want to wait and see. I always say, ‘Wait and see if he doesn’t need one, not if he does.’”

When he was situated the way she asked, Susan turned on the kind, patronizing voice she used with men, telling Noah, “We’re just going to measure you for something. It won’t hurt at all, I promise. Will you be a good man and hold still?” Noah nodded, intimidated. “Because if you don’t hold still,” Susan continued, “we’ll have to restrain you, and if you fight us, you’re going to get a big spanking from all three of us.” She issued the threat cheerfully, like she was promising him a lollipop if he didn’t behave.

“I don’t think we’ll need the restraints,” Rachel said. “I’ll hold his hand.” To her husband she asked, “You want your binky?”

“I don’t use a binky,” he said, momentarily feeling proud of himself before this stranger pulled down the front of his diaper.

"You two married the prince of potty pants,” Susan said as she felt how heavy his diaper was. “Okay, let’s get started.”

Susan sat down on a rolling stool and drew back the drape to reveal a measuring tape inside a plastic bag. She tore it open and withdrew the short measuring tape before pausing to put on a pair of nitrile gloves. “His penis is pretty small,” she remarked as she rolled over on the stool.

“I told you,” Diane said to her wife, eliciting a chuckle from Susan and a deepening shade of red as Noah’s humiliation grew.

“Well, it looks bigger than most I’ve seen,” Rachel replied.

“Trust me,” Susan said as her gloved fingers manipulated Noah’s excuse for what was once called manhood and was now just an annoying part of anatomy.

“But do we really need this since it’s so small,” Diane asked.

“It’s small but functional,” Susan replied. “He couldn’t penetrate anything with it, but even small erections are still erections. Better a diaper blow out than a man’s genetic material everywhere. I mean seriously, is there anything worse that comes out of men.”

You can read the second half of the story here:

I don’t mean to be overly snarky, but if you want people to pay per month and not per post on patreon, shouldn’t you at least inform them about how often you post? I mean $3 per month is not a great deal if you post every six weeks; it’s a better deal if you post weekly. Just a thought.

Well he managed to add 3 broken links to Patreon to his profile, so I don’t think there’s too much worry about anyone from here paying $3 a month :wink:

Not to mention the one on his usercard/full profile wasn’t even put in the correct place in the profile…

All the links worked for me, but being the cheerful person that I am, I’ll say thank you because it’s been a long time since I posted here and my profile needed some cleanup because I have new links as well.

I post to Patreon at least weekly and usually more like 2-3 times a week. I currently have, as of today, 124 written chapters and stories, and 15 audios.