F/M Forced Masturbation Story
"She Cares for Men" by unknown

Estelle, like her recently departed mother, marveled at the little
boy carefully hidden within each man, and how nervously they guarded
their little boys fearing exposure and female if not societal
ridicule. Estelle's mother had explained and proven to her how men
ached to show their little boys to women, how badly they needed to
stand emotionally and physically naked, to drop their macho exteriors
and give themselves, body and soul, to female nurturing, guidance
and discipline. Estelle had, on numerous occasions been allowed to
witness her own step-father cradled on her mother's lap, naked and
sobbing after his spankings, his limp, little penis vulnerable and
still oozing fluid after ejaculating copious streams of sperm into
his wife's maternal hand. Her mother would gently coax the remaining
sperm out of his balls and limp shaft, then wipe him lovingly like
the wet little baby he had become. Then he was allowed to scramble,
red bottomed, off her lap to the waiting potty on the floor. Mother
knew that men always needed to pee after they ejaculated and if the
potty wasn't waiting she would patiently guide her spent, teary-eyed
husband to the bathroom and sit him naked and shivering on the
toilet. She never allowed him to urinate standing up and had often
mentioned to her daughter that she could not understand how other
wives could permit it given the spray and splashing that would result
no matter how accurate a man's aim.
Estelle loved her mother dearly and although she was gone, her
teachings lived on within this proud executive woman. Estelle, like
her mother, was a stately, handsome woman, 5'8" tall, who set an
example for her employees by keeping fit and toned. Her demeanor not
as much as her physical appearance commanded respect, yet she was
warm, nurturing woman always had the best interest of her employees
and customers at heart. Estelle could be described as a woman's woman
with a passion for men.
Of the thirty-eight employees she had in her home office, eleven were
men. She had hand picked each one and cared for them as if they were
her own children. Estelle was intensely interested in each of her
boys as she called them. Most of the men were married and their
welfare was paramount so that they could provide for their families.
They understood her intimate interest in them, their health,
emotional wellbeing and in keeping with her need to know her boys
Estelle had had numerous cameras surreptitiously installed in the
male shower and toilet rooms. Ms. McCleod, as she was known to her
staff, was thorough. And, while the men knew nothing of the cameras
and how intimately aware of their hygiene habits she was they did
know that they could always come to her with the slightest problem.
They also understood that when she disciplined them her stern
application of hand and wooden spoon was held in the strictest
confidence.
Patrick Cully's ruddy complexion suited his flame red hair. Estelle
had often watched him blush profusely and she knew that his visit to
her office this afternoon would generate this very characteristic
reaction. Estelle knew how visits to the Internet's naughty sites
effected her boys and how they would steel away to the bathroom
afterward. But while she knew boys would be boys she had a business
to run. Patrick was new. Rachel, Estelle's H/R manager, who
monitored activity on the companies computers, had called and alerted
her that Patrick had been visiting a site that featured men of all
ages being spanked and diapered by dominant women. Patrick had indeed
gone as far as to become a member of one of the sites and was
spending more and more of his work time watching women change
sheepish men out of their wet and messy diapers. Patrick probably
deserved to have his bare bum spanked, but she would make that
decision later.
Estelle sat looking at the shamed man sitting across from her. Her
stern demeanor belayed her amusement as she watched the poor male
squirm in his seat and yes … blush such a shade of red as to
literally match the tone of his hair. She had intercepted the aroused
man on his way to the bathroom, lead him into her office and locked
the door. His head swam with a mixture of arousal from his
Internet visit moments earlier, confusion, and embarrassment at
having been caught by a woman no less, who also happened to be his
boss. Estelle allowed him marinate in the uncomfortable silence
between them. Men, she thought to herself, … would they ever stop
being such little boys. If it wasn't sexy magazines and now the
Internet, they drank too much, used fowl language, ogled or abused
women, were constantly stroking their egos and genitals, or were in
trouble with the law. When they were focused and finally matured most
made wonderful husbands and fathers.
Estelle knew instinctively there was absolutely no substitute for a
father's masculine disciplinary influence on his sons. Her own
father, before he died, was just such a stalwart paternal figure who
loved her and her brothers and had provided the strict guidance they
all needed. Still, a mother's intercession supplied a unique balance
and dynamic only a woman could provide. Today, this moment, would be
one of those times.
"So Patrick, you enjoy watching women change grown men in and out of
diapers?"
Patrick sat silent, as she knew he would. She looked at his hands
folded in the lap of his kacki trousers. "You've been a bad boy
haven't you?" Again silence. Estelle used the term `bad boy'
or `naughty boy' purposely to let them know just how she viewed them
and to coax their submissiveness to surface.
"Is that what you imagine happening to you Patrick, having a woman
put you into a diaper like a little baby?" She didn't think this 27-
year-old man could become much more flushed but he did. His gaze was
off to the far side of the room so she permitted herself a smile.
Then she took a different approach she knew he would not expect.
"You know Patrick sometimes that is exactly what men need – to be
babied to feel small and vulnerable in front of a woman. I
understand that need in you Patrick. I don't think you were a bad
boy for wanting to experience what those other men clearly were but …
there is a time and a place for it. Do you understand me? Look at
me." A little uncertain about what he was hearing the empathetic
remarks his employer had just made moved him. He obeyed and for the
first time looked at her. "There … now was that so hard?" Her
employee gave her a pensive if awkward smile and shook his head.
"Alright … so am I to understand that you think about having a woman
spank and diaper you and that you imagine going to the bathroom
inside your diaper and being changed by a woman Patrick? You can tell
me – it will not go further than this office I promise." The
silence was palpable and just when she thought she might not have
reached reach him…
"Yes."
" Yes what?" Again a long pause as if he wasn't quite sure what she
expected.
"Yes Ma'am." Estelle exhaled and stood up from her position behind
her desk and
moved to the couch across the room. She moved her purse to the far
side of the couch, sat down and patted her lap.
"Come here Patrick." For a moment, uncertain of what she wanted of
him, Patrick sat motionless. She beckoned him again finally coaxing
the flustered male to sit on her lap. Cradled in her arms Estelle
encouraged him to open up to her and they talked at length about his
fantasies, the experiences, the site he visited and his passion for
masturbating to these images and thoughts. And as they talked she
rocked him and spoke softly to him her hand lovingly cupping,
cuddling and massaging his penis and balls through his pants. Patrick
moaned as he obediently and willingly answered her prying, intrusive
questions undaunted by the powerful erection Estelle's ministrations
generated between his thighs.
Never before had he been allowed to be so vulnerable and open about
his submissiveness with women. Her fingers manipulating his engorged
cock through his pants and underwear oblivious to where she was
taking him. Her fragrance, the warmth of her body, his feelings of
utter safety and trust combined with the confessions she pulled from
the depths of his inner child and her ever-present hand took him
beyond reality. And when reality finally materialized it was too
late for Patrick. Estelle held the poor man firm as his back arched
and he desperately attempted to break free of her hold on him. She
had taken him past the point of no return. In unbridled ecstasy his
throbbing penis spewed forth torrent of warm semen into his
underpants, already damp with precum. As he sat in the regrettable
safety of Estelle's lap Patrick Cully wet his pants with his
thick sperm.
"OH GOD … I … I OH GOD," the shamed man blurted out and repeated
several times more trying again in vain to struggle out of Estelle's
lap. Well aware of what had happened because she had orchestrated it
to serve her purposes, Estelle did her best to calm him. She could
feel his heart beating wildly as she shushed his pleas, as tears
welled up in his eyes and began dripping on her hand still
cupping what were now probably very wet testicles.
"It's alright Patrick … now calm down … you're with me and I know
you've messed your pants… its ok everything will be fine, trust me
honey, its going to be ok. Why don't you stop crying and take a deep
breath. Come on now a deeeeeep breath. There now… good boy! Now lie
back … yes that's it all the way back and we'll get Patrick all
cleaned up. You've never had an accident like this in your pants
have you Patrick?" His bottom still in her lap, they sat together on
the couch, she encouraging him to relax and lie backwards on to the
coach with his pelvis facing up to her, he sniffling certain he would
never recover from this experience.
Patrick flinched briefly as he felt hands unfastening his belt and
then the clasp and zipper of his pants. Then calmly and firmly she
ordered him not to move … that she was going to open and pull down is
pants to assess the damage.
Although Patrick's underwear front was soggy nothing had soaked into
his pants, which once opened, Estelle gingerly tugged down to his
ankles as her stunned employee lay face up daring not to do anything
but stare up at the ceiling. In just his tan jockey shorts with the
dark spreading stain at the front Patrick looked so pathetic. He felt
pathetic and shut his eyes hoping upon hope he would become invisible
or wake up from this nightmare. Instead, feminine fingers lifted and
pealed back the wet garment that had allowed him to retain some
modesty, only to reveal his flaccid penis and red, matted pubic hair
both liberally coated with white jelly that still oozed from his
urethra. She heard him groan and whisper more apologies as she deftly
lifted his limp organ and expertly pulled back his uncircumcised
foreskin. His penis between her left thumb and forefinger Estelle
instructed Patrick to lift his bottom … and as he obeyed … used her
right hand to slide his underpants over his bottom and down all the
way to join his pants at his ankles. Patrick could feel his boss
gently squeezing his slippery testicles and more cum drooling out of
his little hole. Estelle was taken by how childlike he looked lying
on her lap, pushing his shirt front and tie out of the way to expose
his tummy. She milked his now shriveled little pee pee until all the
sticky ejaculate had subsided.
Naked from the waist down Patrick lay shamefully exposed the aroma of
his semen filling both their nostrils. "You are a messy little boy
aren't you Patrick? Estelle asked rhetorically. She instinctively
reached back into her purse for the obligatory cache of tissues women
always seem to have on hand then surveyed the task at hand. Patrick's
scrotum had retracted into a tight little sack – his once erect penis
had retreated and shrunk to a three inch stub that stuck strait
up. Even flaccid it was too short to flop to one side or the other.
Estelle simply smiled at the transformation that this male had
undergone since he walked into her office. He shifted uncomfortable
as she wiped the little wet stub pulling back his foreskin to clean
him properly. While Estelle was satisfied with the progress she
was making sopping up pools of sperm and semen in his pubic hair she
found his pants and undies restricting his ability to spread his legs
so Estelle deftly removed his shoes permitting the garments to slide
over his socked feet and off. She folded his pants and laid them
aside then ordered Patrick to pull his naked knees all the
way back to his chest in the diaper-change position so that she could
properly spread his knees and clean his testicles.
Patrick hoped that having to pull his knees back in this way might
be his final indignity. He was all too aware that in this position is
buttocks were spread and that Ms. McLeod had an unimpeded view of his
exposed anus. It too was receiving the same attention as his
genitals. He was learning that fantasies and reality had little in
common.
"You can put your knees down now Patrick ….. that's it all the way
down. Now let me have a look at you. That's much better! Ok sit up
like a good boy." Patrick up-righted himself his little penis bobbing
from side to side to Estelle's delight. She helped the dejected adult
off of her lap and instructed him to stand at attention with his hand
clasped behind his head. In Estelle's estimation all men were little
sweethearts when she made them stand with their bums and balls
bare.
She lectured Patrick on the decorum of her company and her
expectations of him – that there would be no further unauthorized
Internet access and he would be expected to report to her for a sound
bare bum spanking a week from today as a reinforcement of her edict.
A repeat of this infraction, she explained, would be reported to his
wife. "Now off you go … you can use my private washroom right
over there … sit on the toilet and empty your bladder … leave the
door open and call me when you're ready to be wiped." Patrick wanted
to argue the point but Estelle would not have any part of it,
slapping his bare bottom to punctuate her point and leaving a comical
hand print on his fair skin.
"Get on the toilet right now Patrick I don't want to have to tell
you again!" Nothing could have prepared Patrick for the surreal
predicament he was experiencing. He was a grown, independent man, who
had a choice. He could pick up his clothes, leave and put this
humiliation behind him or forever compromise his dignity as a man
and suffer what in his mind was the ultimate humiliation and have a
woman see him on the toilet. The emotions he had experienced with her
that afternoon were unlike anything he could have imagined in his
fantasies or by watching other subordinate men on the internet. Be
careful what you wish for he thought.
Estelle stood silent and gave him these moments of indecision. She
knew he had forgotten his nakedness for the time being, his little
penis wobbling as he shifted nervously, indecisively from one foot to
the next. She had brought out his little boy as she had all the men
in her company, and like all those men ranging from 25 to 65 she knew
what his decision would be.
Fully clothed with clean underpants supplied by his employer, Patrick
embraced Ms. McCleod and exited her office. Estelle McCleod turned,
flushed the toilet and dropped the damp toilet tissue she held in her
right hand into the swirling water.
The End