The doors to the church hall slowly opened. As I stood in the
entrance every set of eyes in the room turned to look at me.
It was hard to believe that just a year prior I was a confident
man with a house, a good job, and a beautiful wife of course
that was all before he came into our life. he smiled at me from the end of the aisle. He was the man my wife fell in love with. I discovered them one day in the guest bedroom going at it while I was sleeping soundly next door, it was as if they wanted me to find out. I wanted to break up right then and there but she begged me to stay, I did, I don’t know why but I did.
Over the next few months, they continued to fuck every day and eventually, he moved in with us. I couldn’t protest, I was weak even then, a short scrawny weak man compared to my muscular 6 ft+ competition. My sex quickly dried up. Eventually, I was told he would be replacing me in the bedroom, and that I would have a new role in the household. They made it clear to me that I was unfit as a man and therefore I was restarting life, this time as a girl. My wife threw away all my clothes and replaced them with pastel dresses and feminine garments. She shaved my whole body and made the guest bedroom into something resembling a nursery just for me, they even made me start
drinking milk and wearing girly diapers.
That was 6 months ago, and it has now come time for my ex-wife and her lover, or as I call them, mommy and daddy. to be married. Thus I, previously a 30-year-old man, are to walk down the Isle first in my frilly and short dress and my hair done up in pigtails, as their flower girl.
I can hear snickers from the crowd, Almost all of them know the truth about me, although at this point it would be hard to differentiate between me and a real flower girl, What am I saying? I can't deny I'm not a real flower girl.
Even those who don't know the truth have something to laugh at. Very visible under my tiny dress is a large thick diaper. According to Mommy and Daddy, I am still age 1 so diapers are a must, but they tell me soon I can grow up into a beautiful woman if I'm good. I used to hate the diapers but over the past few months I've become completely incompetent, I now fear not having them on. There's an aura of safety to them now.
Regretfully, I begin my walk down the aisle as the organ music starts to play. I hold the basket of flowers in my left hand and toss them with my right, mommy and Daddy have done a good job with my regression, my weak limbs can barely hold the basket. I'm truly helpless.
suddenly, I feel the urge to pee, “Not now!” I think, but it's in vain, I truly have no power over it, I feel the warm liquid fill my diaper, and the relief is nice, I'm glad the organ music is loud enough to cover up the sound, I just hope it's not visible or if it is that no one will notice. It's more than I expected, the most I’ve peed in quite a while. I’m not concerned, these diapers are thick, and they can take multiple wettings with no problem.
But now I feel it, the tingling warmth wiggling its way down my leg, “oh no” I think “oh no oh no oh no this can't be happening!”. A stream of it bursts out and the crowd takes notice, the snickers turn into full-on laughter. I look behind me to see along with the flower pedals I was throwing, a trial of yellow liquid marking my path. I think of what I should do what could I change to go back to how it was, before all of this. But there's nothing to do, I just continue to throw the pedals and the remaining pee dribbles down my leg.
My eyes well up with tears but I keep going, this is who I am now, a weak little sissy, a man who couldn't stand up for himself or even simply walk away, and now a flower girl who cant even hold her own pee. I reach the front sobbing knowing very well that that is just the beginning of my humiliation today.
to be continued.
