Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
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   This story is a part of a trilogy (One Week for Stefan Berg, A Perfect
Husband and Another Woman) which is about the young man Stefan, who is
forced into slavery by his cousin and his friends.  If you are underaged or
offended by the following, please don't read further.
   BDSM Bondage Discipline Humiliation Slavery Scat Wet Chastity Diapers
Infantilism Spanking Smothering Body Modification Blackmail Transgender
Forced sex And many more lovely fetishes and stuff!
   If you love it, enjoy!
   I, Mariette Sadine, own this story with its copyright (c).  Please don't
copy or publish it anywhere else without my permission.
   If you love or hate my stories, please email me at
mariettesadine@gmail.com and tell me what you think.  Or if you have
anything else to say.  I love to get emails but without sexual suggestions
if it is not ideas to more stories of course...
   If you want to be kind to me, send some similar stories to me or
pictures and illustrations showing the things inside my stories.
   Love you!
   Mariette
  
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   Chapter 1
   It was not supposed to be like this.  But at times, unexpected things
that sets everything to a head when life takes a different turn, a strange
direction.  When the trail leads to the existence of the unknown.
        When the church bells created their dreary tone, I could not hold
back my tears.  I pressed Nina's big hand harder and leaned against her
shoulder.  As a security in the cold and outlandish that hurt so badly
inside me.  Who supported me through a grief deeper than the darkest ocean.
She was my cousin, my enemy since childhood, a fat girl who I always used
to bully and humiliate, but who now sat beside me in church and gave me
warmth and closeness.  And consolation.             There were not many
gathered in the small church.  There were the closest mourners, namely I,
Stefan Berg.  Beside me was Nina who was three years older, and beyond her,
her parents who were my closest relatives when my grandmas and grandpas had
been away for many years.  On sporadically dispersed locations, silent in
the hard wooden benches with low backs, people with faces I had never seen
and barely heard of were sitting.  They were my parents' customers and
acquaintances.  In the front of the church were, almost at the altar, two
dark brown coffins arranged.  In them were my mother and my father.
        The last two weeks I had been living in a fog.  Fourteen days
earlier I had woken up in my bed and felt a silence I had not felt for a
week, the first day I was free and without rompers and diapers.  And as a
subtle coercion led me to expose myself to it was my own cousin, Nina, who
was now my only security.  How ironic.  But now it was difficult to laugh
at the situation.  During a week when my parents traveled on their first
vacation in many years, after having built up their business, Nina had
emerged as a clown in the box and acted as my babysitter.  I who just left
school and looking forward to a long wonderful summer without any demands,
and then when fall came, plan for my future, had put up for party
preparations together with my girlfriend Sara and my friends.  But it had
not become so.  I'd instead seen myself unlocked and humiliated.  What
could have been a week of freedom was instead six days of captivity and
punishment.  Everything was about how I during childhood and adolescence
bullied and irritated Nina each time we met.  And her revenge had been
sweet.  But not for me.  The same morning I was finally free from her and I
woke up in freedom Nina had been standing in front of me again.  But this
time her smile had not been malicious.  It had been full of shock and
radiated compassion.  Her words, I would never forget.       "Stefan, I'm
so sorry.  So sorry," she had said and sat down on the edge of the bed. 
     "What is it?  Have you not left yet?  "I had asked and she had shocked
her head.  Then I understood that something was wrong.       "Stefan, your
parents.  It was a car accident.  They went home from the airport.  When
the taxi crashed.  Oh, I'm so sorry," she almost sobbed and she hugged me.
She had hugged me a long time and everything had turned black.  Despite
what she did to me, I had at the end the week, begun to forgive her
behavior, even though I have suffered terrible things.  Because I had
realized that she had every right to punish me for what I for many years
had exposed her to.           "It doesn't matter if you cry, Stefan," Nina
whispered and I sobbed, as a child, helpless and hopeless.  She pressed me
tighter to her and I closed my eyes while tears ran down my chins and tears
mingled with the monotonous organ church hymn playing.  No one sang, and
the only voice that echoed from the building's whitewashed stone walls was
the organ player.       "I promise to take care of you.  I'm here with you.
Not leaving you," she promised, and stroked the tears in my face away.  And
then I felt safe and could devote myself to grief and the two coffins,
which contained what once had been my mom and my dad.  Now they were gone.
As a consolation was that they had passed away quickly.  According to Nina
who got the news first they had died instantly when the taxi crashed on the
road from the airport.  Nina had met the police on the outside of our house
just as she was about to go home.
        My plans had been ruined, when Nina would have gone home and allow
me to enjoy the summer.  But it hadn't been any.  Despite my dislike for
Nina, I felt safe when she still took care of everything.  I had spent the
days after the accident in grief while Nina took care of the contact with
lawyers and planning for the funeral and arranging all the paperwork.  And
Nina had taken care of everything when I was not capable of it after the
shock.  What was done and what had happened, I had almost no memories of.
God knows what papers I signed in the recent weeks.  Inheritance, debt
cancellations, life insurances and other things that I didn't understand
anything of and that Nina told me to sign.  While I wandered around in the
summer heat in shock and frozen in a quiet solitude.       She had been
like a mother, as an aid in the storm that was my life until the moment in
the church, where we now sat.
        The priest talked while I let the tears run against Nina's dark
dress.       "Sorry," I sobbed when I saw how I made her clothes wet but
she just giggled.       "Weep, Stefan, it doesn't matter," she simply
answered, and pressed my face harder against her muscular shoulder.
        When it was time to say goodbye one last time Nina stood up and
took my hand.  Together we went over to the coffins while the crowd looked
at me.  Sad smiles and whispers.  Maybe they felt sorry for me, who have
been orphaned and alone.  Perhaps they were waiting to get up from the
uncomfortable benches and stretching their stiff backs.  I felt like a
child next to Nina, who was almost 12 inches taller than me but it wasn't
anything I no longer responded to, or pondered over.  She was like a rock
in my brittle world.             Then everything went quickly, as if
everyone was in a hurry to get back to their everyday life.  The people,
the faces I saw for the first time and probably would never see again,
scattered in the wind and I was suddenly outside the church, beneath the
stairs on the gravel with Nina next to me.  Her parents looked sadly at me.
     "Take care of yourself now, little Stefan.  Nina, you may call us and
tell how it goes," her mother said and patted me on the cheek.  I just
nodded.       "Thank you for coming."      "Of course.  Your mother was my
sister and will always be there, even though she is gone from mortal life
now," she answered, and I saw tears in her eyes.  They had been close to
each other, although they lived on different sides of the country.  Perhaps
it was just as awful to lose a sister as to lose a mother.       Then Mr.
and Mrs.  Lager walked toward the parking lot, arm in arm and waved at us
before they sat in the car and were gone.
        Nina and I stood there for a while and watched the empty cemetery.
A cool breeze played among the trees.  It was Friday afternoon.  The month
was July.       "Would you like me to stay with you for a while?  I am
happy to help so that you will come back after all this," Nina said, and
held my hand.  I felt ambivalent.  The woman who previously had been so
evil wanted to help.  I just nodded.  Perhaps it was the shock not released
yet, the shock of being alone without parents.       "Now let's go home. 
Now we look into the future, Stefan.  I understand that it is hard and
painful but I am here.  Do you understand?" And I nodded as she pressed her
hand tighter around mine.  Together we walked down the gravel to the car.
While Nina drove, I sat beside her and looked out of the window.  The sun,
heat, out there were my old friends, those I have not seen in a long time
since all the time after the week with Nina had passed in sorrow and to
bring order to my reality.       Then I thought about the pictures.  The
ones Nina had taken when I was dressed in baby clothes and diapers,
sometimes with girl's clothes.  What would happen to them?  She had
threatened to publish them on the Internet if I ever stopped obeying Nina
and my ex-girlfriend, Sara.  Quiet, I wondered if her threats were still
valid after everything that happened.  But it was probably put a side.  Her
threatening to let others see the photographs might well not apply now when
everything was as it was.  Then I wondered how I was able to think about it
now, when I was an orphan.  A tear fell down my cheek.  But Nina didn't see
it.  She looked straight ahead.  She drove.  And was in her own thoughts..
        We went through a summer landscape.  In recent weeks, I had seen
very little of nature and its beauty, then I mostly found myself indoors,
the first week of summer vacation locked in my own home, and then, after
the death bid, at home because of grief.  I hadn't been out at all, and was
probably paler than most of my friends who were at parties and down the
beach.  I was not in a party mood, although a real drunkenness could have
been fitting pretty.  Nina had been of a different opinion on that issue
and kept me at home and sober.  And I was eternally grateful to her for
that.  It was Nina who kept me alive during these weeks.  She gave me food
and made sure that I didn't sit up all night watching TV or using the
computer too much.  I had not even been in contact with my friends.  I Just
chatted occasionally on MSN when I managed but had not talked physically to
someone.  Some had called but those calls Nina had looked after and
explained how I was feeling.  They had understood but not called again. 
Perhaps it was too much for them.  Death scared most people.
        When Nina drove up on the street, I saw neighbors sadly watching
me. I refused to meet their eyes.  I did not want to talk to them, not to
talk to anyone.  Just be by myself.  So much was torturing my mind.  What
would happen now?  How long would Nina stay?  I knew nothing and desired
most of all that I could hand over everything to someone else.  But reality
didn't work that way.  I was bitterly aware of that.       
   The warm air greeted me as I opened the car door when Nina parked on the
driveway to our house.  What would happen to the house?  And everything
that was in it?  All memories of my parents.  When I was the only heir it
was there for me to take care of everything, to go through every item to
determine what would be saved or not.  It would take forever.  Some papers
that were important from my parents' business had been taken care of by an
accountant and lawyer.  I didn't worry about that.  But everything else, it
was memories of them, what my parents loved.       "Come on, Stefan.  Let's
eat something and then we begin to clean, or what do you say?" Nina said,
and tried to sound happy when we went to the front door.  I just nodded in
reply and walked behind her.
        We ate sandwiches and drank milk in silence and then we spent the
whole afternoon to go through the papers, and Nina helped to see what could
be saved or not.  Bags of recycled paper grew as the day turned into
evening.  The work helped me to move on because I would not drown in grief.
     "We have to order a container so that we can throw everything that
should not be saved, right?" Nina said, when we were so tired that we could
not manage more.  Sweat ran down our bodies and we finished the job for the
day.       "It feels weird.  Just a few weeks ago, there was mom and dad.
Now they are gone," I thought.  Nina met my gaze and smiled.       "It
takes time to understand and get over it, but it will, Stefan.  And I'll
stay here as long as necessary.  Okay?" She said and continued.       "It
wasn't supposed to be like this, Stefan, you understand that, huh?  None of
us knew it would be like this." It sounded almost as if Nina had some sort
of bad conscience.       "I know.  It's nobody's fault.  If you don't want
to stay here any longer, you can go.  That was what you had in mind from
the start, right?" I answered and looked into the TV, but didn't reflect on
what I saw.       "I'm not going, Stefan.  I remain here as long as you
need help.  How ironic," she thought as she tidied up a bit in the kitchen.
     "What?"      "A few weeks ago, I was pissed at you.  I took revenge
for what you did to me for so many years.  Now I don't know who you are but
I'll probably will find out," Nina said, and continued to pick with glasses
and plates.
   And she was right.  It was an odd situation.  I could not really be
angry at her, although what she exposed me to during her revenge.  Memories
remained of how she tied me up, spanked me and forced me to wear a diaper.
Now it was memories, but they would not disappear.  In a strange way, I had
become dependent on her and didn't want her to go home.  Then I would sit
in this house all alone with all responsibility, and I didn't know what to
do.       "What happens now?" I asked.  Nina came and sat beside me on the
sofa.  She put her big hand on my thigh and squeezed a bit, mostly of
caring and closeness.       "I don't know.  We must make the best of the
situation, right?  I've helped you so that what remains in the estate is
yours and that the money lands in your bank account.  Maybe you can sell
the house and move into an apartment?" She suggested getting me to look
ahead.  And I thought and reflected about it. .       "Will you help me
with that?" I wondered, and felt alone.  I knew nothing about the legal
work.  Everything was just too much, like a dark, black, night.       "If
you want me to." And I nodded.             Nina prepared tea and cakes
which she put on the living room table.  None of us were really hungry for
food so we ate cake and drank tea while we watched TV in silence for a
while.  The memories came back from the week she humiliated me.  I had not
been allowed to watch TV.  TV was for adults, Nina had said but sometimes
forced watch the children's programs as part of her revenge.  Now we were
equal in some strange sort of way.  As if everything was forgotten.
   During the two weeks after my mother's and father's death, we had not
talked so much about what happened and it appeared to remain so.  As a
tacit agreement.  I tried to do as she said, mostly because she would stay
and help me.  I managed nothing else because I needed her support in my
grief.  Then we saw what happened, and until I came back to my normal self
again.  Meanwhile, Nina gladly took care of everything and supported me
through every day.
        About an hour later, we decided to sleep.  I was tired after the
funeral and the process of throwing and sorting things in the house, and
Nina seemed tired as well.
        At night I slept in my parents' bed with Nina.  She never touched
me in bed and we had never had sex because it felt so wrong for what she
did to me earlier.  Yet I felt something for her.  She was beautiful, a
sense of security.  But in the bed we slept as friends.  
  
A Perfect Husband 1