The man wore a suit and held a briefcase, which he set on the kitchen table and opened. The two men were talking... I could hear them but I couldn't understand them. It was as if they were adults and I actually was a little girl, a toddler incapable of understanding adult conversation. The two men were talking seriously, looking at papers. And then they were looking up at me. Ben must have made a joke, because the two men suddenly began laughing. I smiled too, even though I knew they were laughing at me. Then Ben motioned me over.
I slowly toddled over to them where they were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to hold in my pee as best I could. I was obviously squirming a bit, dancing from one foot to the other. I thought I understood Ben to say, "let's see how long she can hold it," but I wasn't sure, it was as though I was in a dream, all I really knew was that they were laughing at me again, and that the weirdness of the situation, the humiliation and the infantile reaction of having my feelings hurt, my face involuntarily pouting behind my pacifier, made me desperately want to grind my pussy against something. I could not contain my sexual need, I could not still it. And at the same time, despite my best efforts to clutch and clench the gateway closed, perhaps just the first thimbleful of pee began to leak out.
And as I stood there grinding my diapered pelvis up at the two, formally dressed men, Ben interrupted his own derisive chuckling to say "Beth, this is my attorney, Stanley Jarvis. He is here to take care of our divorce settlement, and any other papers we may wish to write up." He looked me squarely in the eye, as if he was talking to a fellow adult. But he wasn't." I looked down at the table, where Mr. Jarvis was shoving a stack of papers towards me, indicating where I was supposed to sign. Suddenly, the reality hit me like a bomb going off in my stomach, and I burst into tears. The pacifier flew out of my mouth and I clutched at it with both hands but I missed, and it bounced down on the table, getting ruby-red lipstick right on the legal papers I was supposed to sign! The men just stood there staring at me... I was sobbing, and blushing from head to toe: I must have been red as a beet. And my nipples were hard as twin diamonds.
It was insane: The two men stared at me as I sobbed through a shit-eating grin that I could also not suppress, because the embarrassment was causing me to grin uncontrollably, even as the word "divorce" made me sob hysterically. I wished I were dead, but at the same time I was overloaded with pleasure: the shame of it all, the extreme shameful dirtiness of what I was irreversibly becoming, triggered a demonic lust in me that I had no control over. I stood there grinding my depraved, diapered cunt up at the lawyer while he sneered at me, his utter derision triggering even deeper feelings of insane sexual need... And it was not exactly a need for fucking, I suddenly realized: it was a need for punishment!
I could recognize, in that instant, that what I desperately wanted was not sex... but injury! My pussy craved more than friction, it craved destruction! My whole body was tingling with insane, self-directed wrathful neediness! My nipples, my anus, even the bottoms of my feet were tingling, as if they were being tickled by electricity!
And right there, in front of the two men, I peed on myself. I had my diaper-covered vulva thrust forward towards the disgusted lawyer, as I had been grinding my pelvis towards him, but I stopped mid-grind and my pee came out, uncontrollably, soaking through my diaper. The two men watched as the yellow spot grew from the size of a dime to a silver dollar to the whole sopping gusset, and then trickled down my legs onto the floor.
I stopped crying. As the men watched, I picked up the pacifier and put it back in my mouth. Then I picked up the pen and signed the papers.
"You just signed every dime you had over to me," said Ben. I sobbed. "Even my inheritance?" I asked.
"Yes, dumbshit. Every penny." A flood of fresh tears trickled down my cheeks and soaked my teddy bear t-shirt. But I couldn't stop grinning, and I again started grinding my needy twat at the two fully dressed men. My panting was shallow, like a dog in heat. I thought about the dunce cap that lay waiting for me in the other room, how appropriate it was that I should wear something like that.
"I think we need to get you changed," said Ben. The lawyer moved the papers - I was now no longer Ben's wife - and Big Ben picked my relatively tiny body up off the floor and set me onto my back on the kitchen table. "We'll have to wash this later."
"See why she can't be my wife?" Said Ben to the lawyer as they spread my legs and removed my diaper. "I get it," said Mr. Jarvis. "She's a whore, not a wife. And she's a depraved one at that. There was a gal like this in school back in South Cartolina., a cheerleader, or cheerleader wanna-be. We called her Anal Annie because everyone used to fuck her up the ass. Then she'd clean the shit off our dicks with her tongue, and say "yummy yum." But really she'd do anything. One night we hung her out of our frat-house window, by her ankles, just for a lark. And we only let her up when she agreed to sit on a cactus. I mean sit down on it, with it going up into her skanky hoo ha. That was a big fat cactus, with scary little clusters of spines. And we made her do it. And she was shivering and quaking and burbling, with snot running down her face... but she was smiling too, like this girl. We pushed her all the way down onto it. It must have hurt like hell, tearing up the insides of her vagina. But then she looked up at all us guys, and at her two brothers Marty and Brian, and she got the glassy look in her eyes... HA! Same as your girl! Same exact look, I'll be damned... And she stared up at us, and she started fucking it!
"No way" said Ben.
"Yes she did!" Said the lawyer. "She started fucking it, right in front of us. Spines and all. And she was really grinding herself down on it, too... and she started moaning and groaning... she was having an orgasm, right there in front of us. Right there, fucking the cactus, blood everywhere. It was insane." The lawyer looked right at me. "And she was in school the very next day, too. Nope, you really don't have to be too gentle with these things," and he gave my pussy a little swat. "Don't have to be too gentle. No honey. We don't need us to be too gentle with gals like you, do we, honey bunch?"
Ben looked at me and said "Do we?"
I really didn't know what was happening to me. I was no longer Ben's wife. I could not get my mind around that, and everything else was deeply confusing, I was too confused, I could not answer the question. So I said nothing. They laughed at me. Then I had a question for them: "What am I?"
They both burst out laughing. "You're a whore, Beth!" The lawyer stuck two fingers up my piss-soaked twat, digging them up and pressing hard into my g-spot, which was literally about to burst with pent-up need. I moaned, deeply, in response. "You're a fuck-pig" said my now ex-husband. Your a dirty, disgusting fuck-pig who loves to be raped!" He stepped up beside me and slapped me across the face, hard. "Now let me ask you something, Beth?" I looked up at him. "Does getting slapped in the face feel good?" I was shocked to admit it, even to myself, but the answer was yes. It felt totally appropriate, given my new social status as a sub-human fuck-pig whore, but it also felt physically good. It tingled in a deliciously sexy way. I felt very strange and queasy about that... the implications were dizzying... but it was true.
Ben slapped me again. "Doesn't that feel good, Beth?" It was a hard blow to even realize this fact about myself, it was almost too much. But telling Ben, who didn't love me anymore, at all, and was not bound to take care of me or anything by marital ties... This was all too much. But he slapped me again, harder, and on the other cheek, backhanded. "I just want to know Beth, how does it feel, physically? Does it feel good to you to be slapped?" Then he slapped me again, front handed, but REALLY HARD!
And it was a little hard on my jaw, but the stinging, flaming hot sensation on my left cheek felt incredibly good. It was breathtaking. I wanted more!
"Yes, Daddy," I managed to croak between gasps. "My face... really... likes it when you slap me. Especially when you slap me very hard," I whispered.
"AH HO HO HO!!" Laughed Mr. Jarvis, lurching back, nearly falling over with laughter. "SHE'S a ONE! She's a one of them, one of the Whore Fuck-bags, one of the gals like ol' Anal Annie! HA HA! You got a live one here, pard'ner!" Mr. Jarvis was beside himself with glee...
"Yeah, obviously, yes," said Ben, not laughing. "Now maybe we should think about those other papers you were telling me about."
Mr. Jarvis got a serious look on his face, and reopened his briefcase. "Yes, good idea. You are probably right about that. Let's see." He pulled out a sheaf of papers, setting them down on the table, right beside my leg. He was still standing between my spread legs, which were still wet with terrible smelling pee, not to mention my copious, pheromone-infused "natural lubricant".
"Okay. Here we are. I would recommend you have her sign this. This makes her your ward. She will no longer have any legal power over her own decisions, she will be declared "Unfit by reason of mental deficiency," which is pretty much the case, right? Basically, you both just have to sign this once, and then your little whore no longer has the right to make any decisions for herself, ever. She can't enter into a contract, she can't rent an apartment, she can't get a driver's license without your say-so. You'll have to sign for any medical work she needs... and any medical work you want her to have, including plastic surgery, is up to you: you don't need her consent for that. It's a lot like the relationship between parent and child, except that since you were married up until now, it's understood that you have a sexual relationship. In Beth's case, you can think of her more like a "pet", if you don't prefer the word "Child". I mean, I imagine she will be wearing a leash, at least sometimes... Am I right?! Jarvis chuckled.
