Horndog

You exaggerated a little bit. Scottsdale, AZ has the lowest crime rate in the country, not the entire state of Arizona. Says Wikipedia: "Crime rates vary greatly across the states. Overall, New England had the lowest crime rates, for both violent and property crimes. New England states also had the lowest homicide rates in the country." That's absolutely right. Giving everyone a gun doesn't resolve the problem. In fact, it exacerbates it.

Plastic pants and underpads. That's all you need.

Sorry square_duck, but the kind of misinformed attitude you have toward the President and politics has led to a record amount of death threats issued toward Obama. That rhetoric invokes violence.

Of all people, Jason Alexander sums it up best about gun control.

I think this needs to be repeated. If you find a place that has "incontinence supplies" listed in their ad, you will have no problem buying diapers there. They will completely understand. I'm on the younger side. I occasionally get embarrassed when buying diapers in public, but when I go to this pharmacy -- that specializes in incontinence supplies -- they're very supportive.

I don't wet while I'm asleep. If I have to go, I (1) use the bedroom or (2) wet and then sleep.

I've leaked a Bambino B is one wetting. Then again, I pee like a racehorse.

I'm bothered by this. Our society is constantly controlled by fear.

Yes it is

I've started to post furry stories in the LGBT section.

Celebrating Abena Day over here!

Never been attacked by others for this particular interest. If they did, I would shrug. Everyone has their special interests and vices, so what?

I have a good sense of humor. Spend time with me and you'll be guaranteed a laugh. I'd like a DD friend to be fun, friendly and not too wrapped up in the fetish that they can't sustain a conversation outside of it. "I'm disappointed, son."

When his boyfriend didn't answer the phone, Steve was concerned. He dialed Michael's home number. No answer. The buck paced back and forth in his kitchen, asking himself, "What happened?" He knew something was up -- something disconcerting. Frustrated, the coach grabbed his car keys and dashed out of the house. He slammed the door behind him and walked hurriedly to his car in the driveway. When he got inside the car, Steve slammed his hand angrily on the steering wheel and shouted, "Fuck!" after he rolled up the windows. Steve realized that he made a mistake. The problem with being in a relationship with a former student or player is that the responsibility to look after them never fades away. Steve hoped to mask his priorities as a responsible adult by being a doting, older companion to Ray. But when he let go of that responsibility by asking Ray if he was interested in housesitting. He saw Michael checking out his boyfriend when they watched the playoff game together. It didn't seriously dawn on him until recently. He zoomed around in the car, paranoid and preoccupied. All he could think about was Ray and his safety. As someone who was around young students, Steve had the inherent desire and obligation to keep a watchful eye. He felt that, in this case, he failed. But Ray was not concerned. He got out of the shower and dried himself off. He walked around the house with a towel around his waist, looking sublime and oblivious to the oddity known as Michael. In his mind, Ray thought the gator was part of the "diaper scene." He felt very comfortable and liberated after engaging in sexual play with his former assistant coach. The roo felt like he could do whatever his heart desired and Michael would encourage it. He didn't have to worry about privacy and the suspicions of his family. "Housesitting" was the perfect excuse to get away from everything that considered remotely normal. He thought about Steve until he realized that his former coach was more restrained, more cautious. The roo wanted to be with someone who was adventuorous, took risks and was proud of taking them. Michael was more than willing to turn everything upside down if it were to intensify his partner's desires. He was fascinated by Michael's extreme, seemingly otherworldly sexual curiosity. And nothing stopped Michael from aggressing on the roo. To the gator, Ray was the perfect slave; the perfect diaperboy. He was young, handsome, vibrant and showed a willingness to push the envelope. He liked how Ray was so determined to be the best at everything he set his mind to. There was no resistence, no hesitation with the exception of Michael triggering Ray's desperation. Not only was Ray a basketball prodigy, he was also a sexual daredevil. It was like Ray knew exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it. On his computer, Michael watched the recorded video of Ray being restrained, and fully wetting his diaper. The diaper swelled up so quickly, it provided the illusion that he was incontinent. The unrestricted wetting reminded Michael of Steve and his incontinence. Knowing that the buck wasn't able to control his bodily fluids, Michael was always impressed with how spontaneous the "accidents" were. It was so "offensive," yet the bold offensiveness was what turned the gator on so immensely. And watching that offensiveness unfold helped activate his voyeuristic impulses. That explained the camcorder. After he watched the video, Michael sat at his desk and rubbed his diaper suggestively. The leather-clad gator tilted his desk chair back, closed his eyes and listened to the crinkling of his diaper as he rubbed himself up and down. He played the whole basement scene in hid mind and visualized the roo filling his diaper on command. That got Michael hot and sweaty. He started breathing heavily and grunting under his breath. Suddenly, his cell phone rang -- exactly at the moment he was about to climax. He cursed to himself and answered the phone. It was Ray. He informed Michael that he was ready to be diapered. Michael took a deep breath, stood up from his desk and walked back into the main house. Michael accidentally left his cell phone on his desk. It started to vibrate. On the phone, a screen popped up with a phone number and the label "Coach" above it. "Thank you," Ray said to Michael as he was being diapered in Michael's bedroom. The roo laid on his back and looked at Michael, who was diligently applying the diaper on him. The gator didn't say anything as he was putting on Ray's diaper. He resisted the temptation to undo the diaper he was applying and fuck Ray. The problem was that Michael wasn't very good at restraining himself. For as long as he's been alive, Michael was impulsive. If he saw something that piqued his interest, he would pursue it aggressively and almost obsessively at times. In this situation, he was aware that Ray was dating his best friend. He already breached the coach's trust by exploiting Ray's sexual tendencies. At the same time, Michael was so horny that he didn't mind if he self-destructed if he could experience that sweet, sweet climax that has eluded him for so long. He started thinking that he could accept the consequences, the slings and arrows that would come his way if he were caught. It was decided. Before he could apply the diaper tapes, Michael stopped suddenly. The roo sat up briefly to see what was going on. "Daddy is very horny," said Michael in a low baritone voice. "What are you going to do about it?" teased Ray, who rubbed his fuzzy rear suggestively. It was clear that Ray was caught under the gator's sexual spell. Without receiving any orders, Ray got into position and laid on his stomach. He hiked his tail. Michael hurriedly tugged the front of his diaper down to fetch his dick. The gator's eager shaft was throbbing in his hands. His low-hanging balls were aching with pent-up sexual frustration, waiting so miserably for the epic conclusion. This was Michael's first time having anal sex with another male. He was nervous. For the first time in his adult life, Michael showed trepidation. He was shaking a little when he guided his dick through Ray's tailhole. The roo yelped because he still wasn't used to it. Once he was in position, Michael grabbed onto both sides of Ray's waist and humped him slowly. Ray felt the big guy drilling into him. It was fun, a little painful and rather spontaneous. As the gator plowed into him with an increased tempo, Ray thought of Steve. When he had sex with Steve, it was purely out of love and nothing more. Love played a prominent role in his relationship with the former coach. He loved nothing more than to be cared for by someone who could relate to him. With Michael, it was about chasing the thrill and seeing how many buttons he can press at once. He enjoyed that too, but it was starting to feel like a cheap substitute to a loving relationship between two people. And his eagerness to relish in Michael's sexual whims started to erode. Ray suggested that he was no longer willing to meet Michael's rabid pace by relaxing his muscles and biting down on his tongue. Michael noticed the change in Ray and interpreted it as a sign of total submission. So the gator fucked him harder until his balls slapped against the roo. He made his way deep inside Ray. Michael continued to lay into Ray when he heard a knock on the door downstairs. "Fuck off, Steve!" Michael shouted. The gator didn't stop. The humping was getting faster and faster. Michael's head was sweating profusely. He was losing stamina. His pacing was off. He just wanted to pop. His desperation led him to some heated dirty talk. He mumbled to Ray that he liked "fucking the pants-wetting faggot." Finally, this set Michael over the edge. As he was about to cum, he heard the bedroom door swing open behind him. He froze, turned around and saw Steve. The buck stood in the doorway, horrified and speechless. "Wait, no... I..." Michael stuttered. "How did you get in?" "You left the front door unlocked," Steve replied tersely. "Get off of him." The bondage gear Michael was wearing was an usual sight to Steve's eyes. For years, he always considered the gator a friend who wore diapers as a sign of their friendship. It was fun to do, it seemed. Apparently, it was more than that. That was startlingly clear. Michael was deep into Ray. The quarrel Steve had with Michael was the lack of honesty. Had he known that Michael wanted to spend time with Ray like that, he would have consented to it. Truthfully, Steve didn't completely object to what was happening because he knew how much Ray enjoyed the deviant side of diapers. Steve was used to monogamous relationships, but the notion of two diaper-loving males having sex was too hot to ignore. Still, the scene he stumbled into was a shock. "Oh, Steve!" exclaimed Ray. "Come on, Mikey. Let's go. I don't have all day," Steve told Michael. Ray was surprised at the remark. The remark was awkwardly received, but there was a strange tranquility that manifested from it. Michael was also surprised. He knew he had to wrap it up, but his libido was assisted by the fact that Steve was watching him. Michael's voyeuristic pleasures were injected into the sex. The gator channeled his newly recharged sexual vigor and banged Ray mercilessly. He quickly escalated the sex by hugging the roo from behind and fucking him with all of his might. There were no restrictions or lingering concerns anymore. He was all in. Michael's heavy, domineering body had forced Ray down. The pace was frantic. Ray's spirits were renewed. His tailhole was getting ravaged by the horny gator. In a bold move, Ray yelped to Michael, "Harder!" Michael responded with a frustrated push into the roo's prostate. Ray's eyes rolled to the back of his head when he felt the pleasure and pain intertwine at that very moment. He felt the sex was a success, regardless of what the outcome would be. The adrenaline caused Ray's dick to throb uncontrollably, anticipating the inevitable climax. He could feel every drop of sweat in his fur, especially his headfur. He could barely see the pillows in front of his face because the salty sweat was burning his eyes. In more ways than one, he was blinded with pure ecstasy. This was the feeling that propelled Ray to win the games he played. This was his reward. It was a powerful incentive for him to do well. While he was being fucked viciously, Ray felt his dick explode with seed. The roo injected four considerably large spurts of cum onto the gator's blanket. He felt every hard throb of his member as he came. He rode the euphoria as long as he could before experiencing the downward drag of exhaustion. Shortly after that, Michael pulled out and ejaculated all over Ray's back. Ray felt the sticky matter splash onto his backfur. He felt an exceedingly large amount of semen on his back; it was clear Michael had a lot of it pent up. Finally, Michael felt relieved. A great burden was lifted off of him. The gator's sexuality was left dormant for many years. There were impediments that prevented him from showing off his sexuality, including his marriage, raising children, and the obligation to be the reliable, moralistic "family man." He had to withstand years of living a secret life within his very own home. He would wait patiently until the weekend so he could have a small taste of sexual gratification. As an assistant coach, Michael had to work on campus on weekdays. On some weekends, his wife would take the kids out for grocery shopping and other errands. He would take the opportunity to spend time in his basement, which he converted into his own bondage playpen. The desire to construct a playpen was the result of pent-up sexual exasperation. The gator felt entitled to act out and let his fantasies evolve. The desire for gratification was fueled by his experimentation. If the drive wasn't there, Michael was concerned that his life would fade into deathly cynicism and regret over not living the life that he truly wanted. He didn't have the courage to sexually experiment with Steve; he considered the buck to be a "brother." He saw Ray as an opportunity, and knew that Ray would be interested. Ray was exhausted. He laid in bed motionless, tilting to his side only a little so he can relax in a better position. He felt like he just endured a lengthy workout at the gym. He slipped into the afterglow haze. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle beside someone, tune out and relax. Steve sat at the end of the bed and looked at his tired boyfriend. The buck slowly crawled toward Ray, petted the side of his face and assured him that everything was fine. He told Ray that there was nothing to worry about, despite the unusual circumstances. Watching Michael dominate over Ray, Steve felt inadequate and thought about his sexual stamina. Would he had delivered with the same fiery intensity as his best friend? He didn't know for sure. Regardless, when he saw Ray's smile, Steve felt content. He accepted the risk that he may have raised the bar for himself by allowing his boyfriend to be with more sexual resolve than he did, but it was all in good fun. Several minutes later, the gator removed his bondage gear and stored it away in the basement. He believed the bondage persona was the external projection of his sexual desperation. Now, he no longer needed that facade. The clothing was feeling a little heavy on him; it caused him to get overheated. He wanted to make sure that he wasn't standing in his own way. Yet the clothes and the gear surrounding him added to his mystique. He was like a kinky superhero with a secret identity. His duties were completed for now, but there would come a time when he could put on his cape again and save himself from sexual solitude. He enjoyed the polarization between the life of a hard-working, loving father, husband, and the life of a lustful daredevil with nothing to lose. By the time Michael made his way upstairs, Steve and Ray were curled up in bed together. Steve remained dressed while Ray was wearing the diaper that the gator didn't finish putting on earlier. They sat up in bed and watched Game 7 of the playoff game between the Thunder and the Stars. They watched the Thunder take control of the second half by forcing turnovers for the Stars. The Thunder defense, which had been lacking in previous games, had tightened up and made the adjustments that it needed to. They swarmed the paint and forced the Stars to make contested shots from outside the perimeter. They implemented a new zone defense that even Steve wasn't familiar with. Nonetheless, he was impressed. The game had successfully distracted the couple from what happened earlier. For his relationship with Ray to grow robustly, Steve needed to stay calm and supportive. Deep inside, he was certainly agitated that his childhood friend never told him that he was a hardcore diaper fetishist. He was also disappointed that he loosened his grip on Ray ever so slightly and allow the roo to "housesit." But all the negative feelings Steve had melted away when he witnessed the sex unfold. However, Steve realized he had some outstanding flaws that needed to be resolved. For one, his pursuit for sexual happiness had corrupted his initial desire to be a loving partner to Ray. He only wanted what was best for the roo, and from what he could see, Ray wanted to be part of the game. Steve related to that desire since his personal circumstances sidelined his career prematurely. Steve was heralded as the best in the league and he saw Ray as his successor in a way. He didn't have a chance to talk about Ray's future with him until now. "You see yourself there? In the game? Right now?" asked Steve, pointing to the TV screen. Ray grinned. "Yeah... yeah I can see that," he replied. "You should go for it." "You think so?" "I know so." Standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, Michael watched the couple contently as they talked to each other. He quietly walked into the master bathroom so he could change out of his dirty diaper. "But what will happen to us? What's your plan?" asked Ray. "I'm not going anywhere, and you're in charge of the plan. I'm going to throw the question right back at you." "My family even doesn't know that I'm gay or that I'm in a relationship. All they know is that I'm always out doing something. What should I do?" "Focus on the goal first. Once you achieve it, then you can have that conversation with your family." "Thanks, coach." "Call me Steve." Ray felt he was growing up a lot faster than before. When he was part of the varsity basketball team, Ray was focused solely on the game, but he was so caught up in the action that he forgot to assess his personal life. Before he witnessed the coach inadvertently humiliating himself in front of his players, Ray was sexually repressed. He had relationships here and there, but nothing consistent or truly meaningful. It was diapers, of all things, that brought him together with Steve. By the time he started to physically invest himself in a relationship with his former coach, Ray knew that he established a bond that was unbreakable. When he spoke candidly to Steve about his prospects, Ray knew that by signing onto a professional career early, his bond would not be tested. He would always have that person to tell him, "I love you," and change him whenever he needed it. Whenever Ray was around Steve, he felt that everything made sense no matter how bizarre the circumstances may be. He understood that there was still a lot to learn about diaper fetishism and the ways people harness it, yet the lack of predictability was what led him to believe that he would have an interesting life. The issue was whether or not he could control all of his interests and lead a successful career in basketball. Steve assured him that it was all possible, yet the buck had to deal with similar issues. Taking that into consideration, Ray was unsure whether he was truly talented at overcoming the odds. The only way to find out was to jump right in. Crackling with life and enthusiasm, Ray arrived home later that evening. The rest of the night went flawlessly. He made it home by the time his mother was serving dinner. Everyone gathered around the table to feast on some rotisserie chicken, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy. His sister, Carla, sat across from him, staring at him relentlessly and suspiciously. Every other member of the family remained neutral and positive toward Ray because of the outpouring of good news he's received for the past several days. In fact, he was the topic of conversation at the dinner table -- and his father kept telling everyone how he was proud of his son. Ray humbly reveled in the praise and went silent as his parents mused about his prospects. His sister was cautiously optimistic. She knew, better than anyone, that Ray was still conflicted. It would be a miracle if Ray shed his anxiety issues, which had been part of his life up to this point. She loved her brother dearly, but she wasn't ready to jump on the unconditional support bandwagon just yet. The next morning, Carla approached Ray for the third time, hoping to get some answers from her sometimes reclusive brother. The siblings were folding up laundry in the laundry room as part of their daily chores. She tried a different approach and appeared nicer to Ray. She tried to avoid being confrontational. "So what have you been up to?" she asked him cheerfully. "Gosh, I don't know," he replied. "My mind's been spinning like crazy over everything, y'know?" "Yeah. I can't believe it. I mean, I knew that you'd go far -- but wow! I'm really excited for you!" "It's just that's a lot to think about," said Ray with a sigh. "Not to add to all the things you need to think about, but... consider tying up your trash bags a little better. The one with your diapers spilled out the other day after the trashman came by." Ray blushed suddenly. "Did you clean it up?" "Yeah, but I never want to do that again." "Thank y--" "Instead of thanking me -- you're welcome, by the way -- you should talk to me. I know you're still nervous about everything, but you can confide in me. I'm just saying... But please, don't run away." Ray stopped folding laundry and calmly inhaled. "You want to come with me to the park? I'm going to shoot some hoops. We can talk there." "Sure." A few hours later, Ray drove with Carla to a park nearly where he practiced his shooting and dribbling. His sister was much more animated this time around, cheering him on when he made his shots. Ray cracked a smile when she whistled at him and playfully yelled, "Airball!" when he missed. Any moment he could have without his sister interrogating him was something he cherished dearly. He anticipated that the conversation between them was going to turn personal, but he was ready to endure it this time. He wasn't going to run away. He wanted to have the conversation on his own terms and in a familiar, comfortable setting. As Carla cheered him on, Ray showed off some of his spin moves and his cross-dribble techniques. He wanted to show his sister that he was still on top of his game. He took a break and walked over to his sister, who was leaning up against the chain-link fence that surrounded the court. He streched his arms and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "That was fun," he said. "It looked like fun. So... you dragged me out here." "I wanted to be away from the house." "Why? You think mom or dad would eavesdrop on our conversation?" Ray shrugged. "I like the fresh air," he said smugly. "So what do you want to know?" "Are you seeing someone?" she asked. "Yes I am," he admitted. He shot an annoyed look back at Carla. "Who's the lucky guy?" She crossed her arms, anticipating that he'd bark at her for asking that question. "His name is Steve," he calmly told her. "So you really are gay then?" Ray shrugged. "I can't help it, I guess." She laughed. "I would have never imagined, in a million years, that my brother would be gay." "You're taking it well," he chuckled. "I'm happy if you're happy. I don't know what mom and dad would think, but I love you no matter what." Ray relaxed his shoulders and smiled at Carla. "You don't know how much that means to me." "I always wanted a gay friend anyway." "Oh shut up!" It was all-too-easy to poke fun at her younger brother for coming out of the closet, but Carla felt truly honored that he chose to speak to her first about it. The whole idea of "coming out" was laughable to Carla. She was very accepting of the revelation. However, she, too, was concerned with how his sexuality would square with his professional basketball career. She didn't know about the kind of relationship he had with Steve nor did she know that Steve was also his former coach. She wasn't entitled to that information, thought Ray. There were personal boundaries that still needed to be observed and respected. Carla respected his privacy. On the positive side, she liked the fact that she didn't have bland brother whose life revolved around the game and the ridiculous machismo attached to the sport. Ray was always introspective and unique. She didn't realize how unique he truly was. Because of his openness, Carla's curiosity was easily satisfied and decided to not pursue any overly personal questions. "Does he know about the diapers?" she asked him half-jokingly. "Eh... he'll get used to it," he replied with a wink. Steve watched his partner evolve from afar. He knew that the roo had a long road ahead of him. Of course he was nervous about Ray's future. Steve grotesquely compared the situation to his incontinence: life is unpredictable, but it's more tolerable if you know how to improvise and improvise well. Interestingly, it was Ray who made his incontinence more bearable. Finally, he had someone that he loved who not only appreciated his "defect," but stayed by his side in spite of the awkwardness. The incontinence never got in the way. In fact, it was considered an mutual opportunity for them to be intimate. The couple spent their summer going out and enjoying themselves. What they lacked in public displays of affection, they made up for it in general silliness. The friendly wrap around the shoulder and the occassional stroke of the face was a polite acknowledgement that they were a couple. One Summer evening, the buck warmly greeted his partner in front of a movie theater downtown. Steve had a conveniently discreet shoulder bag that carried several diapers "in case of emergency." After they purchased their tickets for the show, the couple snuck into the theater and took a seat in the disabled section. They were only a few others in the theater at the time. Steve kept harping about how he rarely went to the movies because of his condition. He was always concerned about having an "accident" in the theater, but Ray assured him that he "got his back" if anything were to happen. They watched an action, shoot-'em-up flick that kept them on the edge of their seats. Steve felt emboldened by being within Ray's force field. The coach's insecurities faded that night and transformed into child-like bliss with mischevious undertones. "Is anyone around?" Steve asked Ray. "No. You're good. Are you --?" Steve nodded. The buck closed his eyes and grunted softly. This time, he tried filling the seat of his diaper as much as he could. Ray heard the seemingly foreboding fart from his partner. The buck unleashed a large load into his diaper. He anticipated that it was coming a few moments earlier, but he pushed it out so it created the illusion that he soiled his pants intentionally. He leaned back in his movie seat, sipped on his soda and displayed a playful-goofy facial expression. Ray chuckled softly. "The bathroom is just a few steps away. C'mon now!" Ray teased. "That felt good," Steve whispered to the roo. "I'm not going to lie." "Come on, baby. Let's get you changed." Ray grabbed Steve's hand and led him into the men's restroom. Steve reached around to his fully loaded rear end and rubbed the mushy diaperseat. It was fairly obvious that he pooped himself. The back of his pants was sagging, wrinkled and bulky. He imagined that he was an oversized toddler who was forced to stay in diapers. This time around, the manly buck allowed himself to partake in a more diminished role. It was a rare display of submission for the coach who was always used to taking the initiative. Their relationship had grown increasingly unpredictable, and he allowed himself to let instinct carry him somewhere. Ray took him by the hand and led him into the restroom. There, Ray spotted a stall reserved for handicap use and changed Steve's diaper there. When they got into the stall, Ray locked the door and started unfastening his coach's belt. Ray's clothes, however, remained intact. Both men were standing up and facing each other. When the pants noisily dropped to the tiled floor, Ray assessed Steve's diaper. The diaper was obviously wet and sagging in the front. It wasn't fully tinted with the urine-colored stains that Ray was used to seeing. Steve was also a heavy wetter. The buck started using more hospital-grade diapers that could withstand multiple wettings while not making it look so obvious. However, the diaper was so wet that it displayed a glossy, seemingly moist cover. The new diapers gave him peace of mind. Ray felt around the diaper. For good measure, he playfully squeezed Steve's diapered crotch, which caused the plastic backing to rustle almost suggestively. Ray wanted to rub his nose in it and indulge a little, but he didn't want to miss too much of the movie. As he was about to undo the tapes, Ray was stopped by Steve who started shaking his head. The buck blushed. "What's wrong?" Ray whispered to Steve. Steve rubbed his stomach. "I have to go again." Ray rolled his eyes and smirked. "Alright. Bad stomach? Did you eat too much popcorn?" Steve stood quietly as he pooped his diaper for a second time in five minutes. The back of his diaper was more soggy than the front side. Because of his incontinence, this was a common sight for the buck. Before he was with Ray, Steve was obsessively concerned about having a full seat diaper -- and rightfully so. He was always concerned about the smell, the bulge showing off his dirty deed and the natural embarrassment he felt when he relieved himself. Before Ray, he didn't have someone else to rely on or understand what he was going through. When he pooped his diaper and rubbed his backside, Steve looked into Ray's eyes. The roo kissed him on the forehead and told him he was a "good boy." Steve went quiet. His bold resistance to having these "accidents" was steadily declining. It was a spontaneous game, and Ray didn't mind playing along. He took the shoulder bag that Steve was carrying around, unzipped it and pulled out a fresh diaper. It didn't matter that his former player was changing his diaper. It was a mutual appreciation. Ray carefully unfastened the tapes, and removed the heavy diaper from the coach's waist. The fecal odor was a little distracting for Ray, but he was slowly getting used to it. This motivated him to change Steve faster. He used the inner-front side of Steve's used diaper to wipe his rear clean. That was a daunting task because Steve's mess got into his fur. He wiped Steve down enough so that he was relatively clean. He took some toilet paper and wiped Steve down some more. Steve stood half-naked with an erection. Ray couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle softly when he saw it. No words were spoken, though. He asked Steve to lean against the restroom wall. He placed the new diaper on Steve by having the buck lean against the inside-back of it. Ray expanded the back wings of the diaper and connected the wings to the front. Changing someone in a standing position proved to be more difficult than changing someone who was laying down. When he was done, Ray playfully swatted his partner's rump and gave him a kiss on the lips. "All done?" asked Steve. "You're good to go." As he walked back to the theater room with Steve, Ray thought about the responsibility of taking care of someone else who is incontinent. Incontinence is not a condition that is easily resolved. Often times it's permanent and being the caretaker or lover of someone suffering from that condition can be taxing. In some ways, Ray felt the responsibility was something that went over his head. When he saw it as a "game" or a spontaneous encounter, it was more exciting. He stood ready to take on the challenge. In return, Ray expected the coach to change him. That was the agreement. What made Ray accept the agreement even more was what led up to the change. He loved nothing more than to feel up Steve's diaper when it's wet and warm. Because of his sexual rendezvous with Michael, Ray liked the idea of coaching, forcing or approving diaper use -- and Steve noticed how his partner liked getting off on that. It was a great system. The diaper-loving couple devised a scheme that broke the tedium of responsibility. They were going to do everything they can to enjoy the calm before the storm. Ray decided to join the big leagues and pass on the full scholarship. He wanted to spend the quiet time he had left with Steve. The most important thing for the two was having a relationship that worked; they were going to do everything they could to sustain it. Even if it meant changing each other's dirty diapers. After the movie was over, they returned to Steve's house and passionately made love. Dressed down to their diapers, Ray and Steve kissed each other in bed. Ray breathed a sigh of relief when Steve accepted the roo's request to take on a more submissive role. Ray laid down on his back while Steve crawled over him, ultimately sitting on top of the roo's thickly padded crotch. There was constant fulminating from the young, rising basketball star that he wanted to take the lead in the bedroom. Steve never objected to Ray's pleas, but he always remembered them after sex. Ray's sexual tension was obvious when he rubbed the coach's diaper very slowly but aggressively. He wrapped his paws around Steve's diaper and casually felt the warm, damp diaperfront. Ray learned to compliment Steve when he wet his diaper. Steve always wanted assurance that he was well within his boundaries of good taste. Ray smoothly grazed his diapered crotch against Steve's bottom and exhaled calmly. "You're always so wet," Ray muttered as he felt Steve's diaper getting warmer and richer with musk. "True, true," Steve admitted flippantly. "Am I wet enough for you?" Ray growled. "You're such a dirty boy. You get me so rock hard." He almost broke out of character and chuckled momentarily at his cheesy sex talk. Eventually, Steve was riding on top of the roo's hardened cock. He stared at Steve while he was riding him. Up and down. Steve was enjoying it immensely. The sex was ferocious. In Ray's mind, Steve was his dirty diaper slut. Covered in sweat, Steve huffed and huffed. He whined when he felt the roo's lengthy member ravage his prostate. Ray humped into Steve while feeling his own diaper, which was now laid flat underneath his rear and brushing against his backside. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt the frantic friction of his member sliding inside Steve. The euphoria from the quick, manic fuck overwhelmed the roo's senses. Sexually, Ray felt like he was on top of his game. Meanwhile, Steve felt that trying new avenues of affection with Ray was finally chipping away at the coach-player awkwardness. For a while, Steve felt he was being deprived of unrestricted love because of the awkwardness he felt, being with a former player of his. So far, the relationship was steady because both men were capable of satisfying each other's sexual needs; filling a void that was so prevalent in their lives before. He interpreted the outcome of their former-yet-formal relationship in high school as inevitable fate and not at all exploitative of Ray's willingness to test his sexual curiosity. For all intents and purposes, they were madly in love with each other -- and that wasn't going to change any time soon. When they had sex, they immediately felt a strong connection with each other than transcended mutual appreciation in certain kinks and conditions. Ray appreciated Steve's passionate romp and cemented it by cumming inside of him. When he felt the familiar, sticky goo flooding inside of him, the buck bit on his tongue, closed his eyes and panted heavily. Ray was exhausted as well. He tilted his head back, looked up at the ceiling and smiled as his heavy partner slowly disengaged from his position. It didn't matter much that the sex was quick and dirty. It the perfect way to conclude the evening. Ray considered sleeping over at Ray's house, but ultimately decided not to because he had to sit down with his family and discuss his future plans with more clarity. Only a few short months later, Ray Johnson was drafted into the Major Basketball League (MBL). The draft was televised live. When his name was called by the owner of the Redwood Nationals, the fine-dressed roo stood up and confidently walked toward the stage to accept his team hat. After shaking hands with the owner, he looked over to where he was sitting. His mother, father and sister applauded for him excitedly. They stood up from their seats and cheered Ray on. Ray grinned and waved to his family. Sitting next to them was his coach. At the time, the family recognized Steve as a mentor and a friend and nothing more than that. It was very hard for the family to imagine him as anything otherwise -- and Ray preferred to leave it that way. Things changed fairly quickly. Ray moved out of his house and into an apartment in Redwood. Though the next season was still several months away, Ray wanted to take his time settling into his new surroundings and getting to know the city that he was going to play for. Before leaving, Ray promised his former coach that he would maintain communications and visit when it was convenient. Both men understood that having a long-distance relationship would be emotionally taxing, but they vowed to work through that issue. There were big stakes riding on the long-distance relationship, including the possibility that Ray might have trouble maintaining a gay relationship while being in the spotlight. Steve recognized this as a problem as well, given the challenges he faced when he was a player. It would be shortsighted to say that they were at a crossroads, but like any offense play that came their way, adjustments needed to be made. Ray's absence was a blessing in disguise because it allowed Steve to reflect on his personal circumstances and not get caught up in the everyday romantic endeavors. Like Ray, Steve reached a turning point. He finally found someone who was compatible with him, accepted his incontinence and turned it into a spontaneous -- albeit inconsistent -- romp, and made life generally interesting again for the recently retired player. He didn't like the "retired" label much, especially now that he was with someone that injected him with vitality. He was decided to rebuilding his life when he had enough time, on his hands, to do so -- starting with basketball. Since he retired, Steve was sidelined with two issues: his torn ACL and incontinence. The buck started noticing spring in his step, and he wasn't wincing in pain. There was discomfort, but that discomfort was fading over time thanks to his patience and determination to recover. Ray got Steve to play a few one-on-one matches. Every Sunday, when he wasn't preoccupied with coaching duties, Steve spent time practicing basketball in the Evergreen High School gym. He was one of only a couple of faculty members who were entrusted with keys to the gym and men's locker room. He could access those two areas at any time. He liked practicing when school was out. Because he was alone, Steve took the liberty to wear his old jersey, his diaper, socks and shoes. "Who needs shorts anyway?" he thought. The buck repudiated the obligation to hide what he once considered his "personal shame." His movement was slowly returning to an earlier era of prosperity and promise. He stared at the basketball and pretended that he was being double-teamed. He dribbled the ball and cross-dribbled between his legs. He switched his footing quickly and kept practicing his steps until his movement was a blur of lightning-fast speed. He pump-faked, spun around his imaginary opponents while driving to the basket. He tossed up a teardrop and waited anxiously for the ball to fall into the hoop. It spiraled around the rim for a few-but-lengthy seconds before swishing in. Encouraged, Steve tried some trick plays, including throwing the ball off the glass to himself for a self-assist followed by a classic layup. Swish. In one play, he attempted to dunk the ball with his trademark reverse-tomahawk slam. He nailed the dunk and felt the energy rushing to his fingertips when he hung onto the rim. When he landed on the ground, Steve was surprised that he felt no pain. All his joints were moving the way they should. He stretched his arms wide, clenched his fist in victory and shouted at the top of his lungs. However, the celebration was short-lived. Steve wet his diaper so much, that he left a trail of urine; it continued trickling down his leg. He mistook it for sweat. A common mistake. By the time school was back in session, Steve reprised his role as coach but he was in talks with his agent to "unretire." The varsity team consisted of some returning players and new faces. Everyone on the team talked about Ray "The Ripper" Johnson, number 8 of the Redwood Nationals. The roo had a shaky start at the beginning of his rookie season, but he quickly became a force to be reckoned with. He drew freely from the style of play that Steve passed down to him, except Ray had an emphasis on power over speed. Steve touted his boyfriend as an example of what success looked like. Ray exuded confidence, despite wearing diapers during the game. It was never an issue. Inspired by the roo's confidence, Steve revealed to the team that he wore diapers. This time, nobody flinched on the team except for Michael, who was taken by surprise at his friend's sudden candor. On the eve of Evergreen's first game of the season, Steve sat down with his team in their locker room and spoke candidly about it. "I have a disability," he told them, "and you have every right to think that it's funny. The truth that we all have something that we feel could hold us back. For me, I wear diapers -- and I wear diapers because I suffer from a medical condition called 'incontinence.' It's when you lose control of the way you go to the bathroom, but I'm not going to bore you or disgust you with the details. When I played basketball, when I was your age, I obsessed over my weakness. I had problems with my confidence. Similarly, one could be skeptical about their playing ability. We may start out clumsy, airheaded, confused or otherwise deficient in our execution -- but we can always improve. In fact, we will always improve. We will always get better. We may look at our 'weakness,' or we may take those weakness and pivot strongly toward greatness in spite of them. We can achieve so much. I look at everyone here, I look into everyone's eyes and see evolution. If you're at your lowest point, you can go higher. If you are reaching for that brass ring, grab it. If you reach that brass ring, grab it and propel yourself up, over and beyond the voices that say you can't do it. And I'll tell you this: you can do it. Get up and give them a show." The team applauded. Everyone shook Steve's hand in agreement. Confessing that he wore diapers, Steve anticipated that the scene in the locker room could turn chaotic, but it didn't. Of course, it would be unrealistic if nobody joked about it. But there was so much momentum behind Steve, that disparaging words about his condition didn't matter. He was going to win no matter what. He began the season with a disclaimer that he was previously too scared to give. The team had a mutual and powerful attraction to the young coach, who spoke with such authority that any blemishes and irregularities were swept under the rug. Powered by the spirits of love, passion and sexuality, Steve Markos improved on his legacy. And realizing that he was no longer alone in this world, Steve came back from the brink of eternal loneliness to, once again, reign over the court.

I asked the question because I see a lot of threads and discussions (here and elsewhere), from time to time, about people who look for a partner or significant other based on that interest.

Good response!

Here's a fun question. Let's say that you meet the love of your life, who is also an AB/DL. Would that love be substantiated by the fact that they're an AB/DL or would you love them even if they one day decided to no longer observe the AB/DL lifestyle?

I had a lengthy discussion with another AB/DL and we were talking about the constant misconception that AB/DLs smell all the time. A few years ago, my friend lived a few roommates who wore diapers. One of them wore diapers 24/7, and yet the apartment didn't smell because they all took showers and bathed when they were supposed to. In fact, the roommates were considered germaphobes. Do you believe that AB/DLs, in general, observe good hygiene habits and don't emit foul odors as much as people say?

I cannot, for the live of me, poop while walking. I either stand, sit or squat like a toddler. Squatting is more fun anyway!

I was potty trained when I was about three years old. I actually remember the experience. If I were to sum this thread up, the consensus is: it depends (no pun intended). Pay attention to your child's wants and needs and improvise from that point. I do think kids should be potty trained as soon as possible so they can develop normally.

Amen. Preach it, Brother Duck!

I saw someone with the clan tag [ABDL] the other day. I was going to message them, but decided not to.

With only four losses for the entire season, the Evergreen High varsity basketball team finished the year on a high note. The team was in good spirits. Coach Steve Markos was energized, enthusiastic and maintained a great relationship with his players, including one in particular. Ray Johnson graduated high school with honors and was accepted to a local college on a full scholarship. His family was overjoyed when they found out. However, his sister remained cautiously optimistic. Something was going on with her younger brother -- and for good reason. Shortly before Christmas the year before, Ray was nervous about someone he "had a crush on." When she inquired who the person was, Ray accidentally described the "crush" as a male. Since that day, Ray was more relaxed and confident. Why the sudden mood change? Throughout the season, Ray lived a secret life. He visited the coach at his home several times a week. Outside the coach's house, he was the team player with ambitious aspirations. Inside, he was a lover; a boyfriend and a proud deviant. Surprisingly, Ray was able to handle his double-life almost seemlessly with the exception of whispering, "I love you" to the coach after some games. Fortunately, nobody heard that small, loving exchange. After most of the games, Ray visited the coach at his house and they would celebrate in a very intimate way. As soon as he felt that he was overstaying his welcome, Ray left and returned home. When his parents asked about his whereabouts, he lied to them. He would tell them that he was "out with his friends." After a while, his sister wasn't buying it. Ray arrived home late one evening. It was a week since he graduated high school. By the time he arrived, his parents were sound asleep. His sister was turning off all the lights in the house and was getting ready for bed. When she heard the front door close, she knew that her brother returned. "Hey Ray!" she greeted him cheerfully. He smiled, waved and walked toward his bedroom without saying anything. "I haven't talked to you much. What have you been up to?" she asked. He shook his head and shrugged. "Not much, really. I'm kinda beat, so I'm going to sleep. Good night!" When he was about to turn away from her, Ray felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hold up," she said in a lowered voice. "What is it?" "Ray-Ray, I can read you like an open book. You're hiding something." Ray sighed. Normally, he confided to his sister about everything. But not this time. "I'm not hiding anything." "You are. Yes, you are!" "I was out having dinner with some of the team. It's nothing. Don't worry about it." She huffed and walked up the stairs to her bedroom. He walked to his bedroom, shut the door behind him and undressed immediately. This time, he was wearing thicker disposable diapers. When he wore diapers before, Ray wore diapers that were normally obtainable at the local pharmacy and chain stores. That's before he knew that the best diapers were readily available on the Internet. Because of Steve's fecal incontinence, he preferred wearing diapers that were sufficiently absorbent and best suited for heavy loads. Ray's sister had no idea that her brother was still wearing diapers. He was able to keep that a secret as well, but barely. Overall, Ray calmed down enough to reduce his anxiety attacks. He also stopped wetting the bed completely. However, he made the conscious effort to wear diapers all the time. He felt more comfortable being this way. In fact, it felt like something that was missing his entire life. Despite being the macho basketball player who masquerated as the popular jock, Ray liked being the "baby." He saw it as the ultimate defiance. By soiling his diaper, he was making a statement: "I'm not using the toilet, and I'm not going to do what you tell me to do." And not only did he have a boyfriend who encouraged that mentality, he also had a boyfriend who made that philosophy a major part of his life. The diapered couple struck a mutual agreement. Ray would wear only the diaper he was given and would visit Steven when he needed a change. The challenge was to use the diaper sparingly -- no flooding, and messing only when it was necessary. Using the toilet was, of course, prohibited. This, said Steve, was something that he got accustomed to mostly because he didn't have much control over his incontinence. Ray was curious and wanted to know what life was like for Steve, so as a result of that curiosity, the agreement was formed. Ray rose to the challenge. However, this resulted in Ray visiting Steve more often. Fortunately, Steve lived roughly a mile away from him. He was walking distance. The next morning, Ray decided to walk to the coach's home. His thick diaper was a little soggy, so he developed a waddle walk. Hoping that nobody would notice, Ray looked ahead and didn't change his facial expression. Little did he know, Steve had an unexpected visitor at his home. Michael Dupak sat down with Steve in the coach's living room and relived memories from the recent season. Steve sat on his sofa chair and laughed with the gator. "When Jerry tumbled into the stands, that was hilarious," Steve said to Michael. "Yep. That brought a few tears to my eyes. First there were tears like, 'Shit, our center is injured,' but when we found out he was uninjured, I cried tears of laughter," said Michael. "So what are your plans for next year?" Steve shrugged. "I'm good for another year. I want to keep the momentum going." "Please, let me know if I'm crossing any boundaries with you, but --" "No, not at all!" "I noticed that you and Johnson are a bit, well, close." Steve grinned nervously. "I... well... I think he's a talented guy. Did you hear he got a full scholarship?" "No, I haven't," said Michael sharply. "But Steve, seriously man. Cut the bullshit." The buck lowered his brows. "What do you mean 'cut the bullshit?'" "You damn well know what I mean. I saw him in diapers one game. I see how you two look at each other. What did you do to the kid?" Steve's usually chipper demeanor suddenly turned very serious. "Excuse me?" "Be honest with me, Markos! What is going on between you two?" Steve crossed his arms. He knew that if he was too defensive about the situation, Michael would increase scrutiny. Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat. He heard a knocking at his door. He knew who it was. His eyes quickly shifted to the source of the knocking and then back at Michael. "Answer the door," said Michal sternly. Steve slowly got up from his chair and walked to the door. "Hope it's not you, Ray," he thought. When Steve opened the door, he was relieved. It was the mailman. He had a package in his paws and asked the coach for a signature. Steve happily obliged. Little did he know, Ray was already at the house, hiding behind a corner. From an open window, Ray could hear the conversation between Steve and Michael. He heard only what he needed to hear. He was a little surprised by the assistant coach's admission that he noticed Ray wearing diapers during one game. He felt that his privacy was invaded. Agitated, the roo continued hiding by the side of the coach's house to eavesdrop on the conversation. Michael was more assertive than before. "I think it's wrong -- I mean, morally objectionable -- that you would engage in a relationship with one of your players. Are you going to sit here and tell me that Ray shares the same problem that you do? There's something very unsettling about this." "You're making a lot of assumptions, Mike," snapped the coach as he walked away from the door with the package in hand. "Do you think I have 'stupid' tattooed on my forehead?" said the croc, pointing to his forehead. Suddenly, the door swung open. Ray stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. Steve shook his head at Ray nervously. "I believe the coach is just protecting me," the roo told Michael. "What's going on between us is none of your business." The gator was surprised to see Ray. "Didn't expect to see you here," Michael muttered. "Do we have a relationship? The answer is yes," said Ray boldly. "And do you know how ridiculously unethical it is for a coach to be in bed with his pupil?" the gator shot back. It was ping-pong. "Do you know how creepy it is to be checking out young players on a team?" Realizing that Ray overheard parts of the conversation, Michael refrained from continuing the current line of argument. "I wasn't, but -- look, I'm just saying that if the press catches wind of this, it's going to bring the whole school down." Ray pointed to his chest. "I have every right to love him. I approached the coach. I was the one who started talking to him... It's not his fault!" Steve raised his hand and gestured Ray to stop talking. "He's right, Ray. The circumstances surrounding our relationship are suspect." "Have Ray sign a non-disclosure agreement," Michael suggested. "What about you?" Ray asked Michael. Michael went silent. The gator rubbed his chin and looked at Ray with his beady eyes. He reached for his belt, unfastened it and then pulled up the elastic waistband of his own diaper. He flashed it and got the roo's undivided attention. "My lips are sealed." Shocked, Ray took a few steps back and stuttered, "What's going on, Steve?" Steve walked over to Ray and put his hand on the roo's shoulder. "I think you deserve an explanation." The friendship between Michael Dupak and Steve Markos went way back. The two were childhood friends and neighbors until Michael moved about fourty miles away from Steve. This happened around the time they were in middle school. Both men were basketball players and avid fans of the sport. They attended many professional games together and were very close friends. Before he attended high school, Steve didn't wear diapers often. But when he did, he wore them around Michael, who was used to it. On a whim, the young gator declared to the future superstar that he wanted to be his "diaper buddy." The two wore diapers as a symbol of their friendship. It was never a sexual thing, and neither of them were attracted to each other because of it. Though they went their separate ways, they kept in contact with each other once in a while. Time passed. Michael got married and had two children. He didn't pursue a professional basketball career, though he was talented in his own right as a menacing center and record-shattering shot blocker. He graduated from college with a Master's degree in Business Administration and opened up a small but popular restaurant in town. By the time Steve suddenly retired from playing professionally, Michael applied for the basketball coach position at Evergreen High. As luck would have it, Steve applied and got the job right away. When he found out that Steve returned to his hometown to coach the high school team, Michael phoned the buck and congratulated him. Little did Michael know that his childhood friend put in a good word with the school administration. Steve convinced the school to hire Michael as an assistant coach. The friendship was renewed and Michael returned to diapers as a sign of solidarity. "Wow," said Ray, who could barely comprehend the back story. He sat on the couch next to the scaley, brutish gator. Everyone in the room, including Steve, was wearing nothing but diapers. "So can we trust you to not talk about this publicly?" asked Michael. "I want some assurance." The roo nodded and sighed. "I'm fine with it. This is just weird." "It's weird that Mr. Casanova-Playboy, over there, would be with another man. You never cease to amaze me, Steve." Steve shrugged. "It just happened. What can I say?" The diapered trio settled down and enjoyed the rest of the day like nothing ever happened. Steve and the gang watched one of the major league playoff games with Ray and Michael. When stomachs started to grumble, Steve ordered some pizza to be delivered. When the delivery rabbit arrived, the big gator answered the door. The rabbit lowered his ears as he came face-to-face with Michael's thick, wet diaper. "What? You haven't seen an alligator in a wet diaper before?" said Michael before he handed the rabbit money including tip. The gator grinned and slowly closed the door. He shouted to the guys in the living room, "I gave the poor boy something to remember. Nothing a long, lonely night at the bar won't fix, right? Ten to twelve shots. Memory erased. Mission accomplished." As it turned out, Michael was an easy-going person. Behind the somewhat intimidating exterior was a gator who wanted to have a good time. Ray realized this and he was getting more relaxed as time passed that day. He didn't feel any pressure to be someone that he wasn't. He even snuck in some time to cuddle with his boyfriend and eat pizza. Michael didn't mind the displays of affection between Ray and Steve, though it wasn't a sight that he was used to. When it dawned on him that his childhood friend was truly in love with Ray, Michael apologized for his abrasive attitude from earlier. Ray quickly forgave him and dismissed the drama as a "misunderstanding." They sat around Steve's living room, eating pizza and watching the playoff game between the Provincetown Thunder and Louis City Stars. Steve watched his old team, the Thunder, struggle on the offense. The buck picked apart their plays and cursed at the television. He saw his former teammates getting pushed outside the paint and forced to take long, awkward jumpshots. He shouted at them, "Do the pick and roll! Pick and roll!" At the end of the half, the Thunder was down by 12. Steve admitted to his friends that he was the "playmaker." He would call the plays for each possession, and force the team to adjust. Steve got into coaching because he was credited for improvising good strategies on the court. He once joked that timeouts "killed the rhythm of the game." Michael reminded Steve of that quote. The buck smiled and nodded affirmatively. Ray laughed at Steve's outburts. At first, the roo was irritated with his boyfriend's self-infatuation and his opinion that he would save the game. "You act like you can save the world too," he joked with Steve. But Ray watched his coach when he played on the team. He was good. He was so good that every team had to double-team him, yet he would somehow pull off that fadeaway jumper from the corner. Nothing but net. Steve was a master of the clutch plays. He caused his rivals great agony in the fourth quarter. This was required. The Thunder did not have a good bench lineup: several young, second and third-round draft picks with inconsistent results. By the end of the game, Steve was exhausted and wanted nothing more to return to the locker room and change out of his wet, sweaty diaper. Because he had more minutes of playtime than most of the starting lineup, Steve was always concerned about his body. His incontinence was, of course, very unpredictable. Some games, he would play completely dry; that was the best scenario. Other times he would literally mess his diaper in the middle of the game -- on live television, no less. He did so in front of millions of people watching the game at home and in the stands. The worst scenario was having to play with a solid, squishy loud dangling around the seat. On the flipside, whoever was guarding the buck was in for a very stinky surprise. There was always a silver lining. While they were watching the halftime report, Steve went silent, looked coldly at the television screen and let out a fart. It was like clockwork: there was a moment of dead air silence on the broadcast when the fart was cast. The buck blushed and looked over at Ray. It was official: Steve soiled his diaper. A relatively large load slithered into his diaper seat, causing the diaper to bulge more dramatically. The smell came right after. "Big baby needs a change," said Ray. The gator crossed his arms and looked down at the floor. "I'm not doing it." He chuckled to himself and smiled. "Age before beauty. Change the coach. I'll let you know when the game comes back on." Steve followed Ray into the bedroom. "Got a clothespin?" Ray asked Steve half-jokingly. "My nose needs protection from you!" Ray was not used to changing someone else's diaper. He's had some practice with Steve, but he still had a horrified expression on his face when he had to change Steve's messy diapers. Wet diapers were a different story entirely. He was very meticulous and slow in changing Steve, and Steve was completely fine with it. When he untaped his coach's diaper, Ray made sure to rub all the contents off his older boyfriend's fur with the diaper. He did this in a very careful, loving way. When he found some momentum, Ray took some baby wipes from the top drawer of Steve's dresser and wiped around the crotch. Steve was clearly aroused by the time Ray wiped around his sheath. "Again?" said Ray as he looked at Steve's erection. "Sorry!" Ray chuckled. "It's alright. Maybe after the game, we can --" "Sounds good." Next came the baby powder. Ray rubbed the baby powder on Steve. The buck remained deeply aroused. He loved that Ray was so accepting and passionate about taking care of him. For years, Steve was used to being the one who changed himself, taking care of himself. When he dated women, they often pitied him for his condition and made him feel worthless. Ray was different. Despite being intimidated by dealing with his boyfriend's messy diapers, Ray was extremely compassionate. It showed a maturity that went well beyond his years. And yet he was young, vibrant and full of vitality. Steve felt very fortunate to cross paths with Ray, though that path was very unusual and -- to an extent -- morally ambiguous. "Thank you," Steve said to Ray in an unusually low, whispered tone. As soon as Ray finished taping up Steve's new, clean diaper, he gave the coach a kiss on the lips. At that moment, the game they were watching was irrelevant. Michael called out the score as the two men made out with each other in the bedroom. "53 to 42! Red was called for a technical! The raptor son-of-a-bitch might be ejected from the game if he doesn't shut the Hell up!" The kissing and fondling went interrupted. Michael figured out what was going on. "Okay, got it!" he shouted playfully. That snapped the two lovebirds out of their trance. "We can't leave our guest," Steve said to Ray. They wandered back into the living room. The Thunder were now up by four at the start of the fourth quarter. Michael was glued to the couch, eating pizza and watching the glowing television screen. He excitedly threw his hands in the air when one of the Thunder players performed a successful reverse alley-oop. Because the game was played at Thunder's home court, the crowd stood up almost in unison and roared. The Stars had to call a timeout in order to freeze the Thunder's momentum. Steve shouted, "Yes! Yes!" for every stop the Thunder defense made. He cheered when they made the defensive rebounds and swarmed the half court. He was living the game in his mind. Though he wasn't on the court, the buck broke out in a sweat from just watching. During the commercials, Michael and Ray talked to each other. Steve got dressed and headed out to get some soda for the group. "So, what's your trip?" Michael asked. Sitting beside Michael on the couch, Ray shrugged. "I guess... that..." "No, I mean, how did you get into diapers?" Ray sighed. "I used to have anxiety, panic attacks as a result of stress. That stress came from years of being bullied at school for this and that. Because I got stressed out a lot, my body couldn't deal with it. I'd have, well, accidents at night. I wet the bed. After my sister joked that I should wear diapers, I got some. Around the time, I was placed on meds, which would calm me down. But anti-depressants have side effects. You take 'em long enough, and you feel like you're slipping away. But at the same time, this reduced the accidents I had. So I was caught between a rock and a hard place in that I either had to wear 'protection' and cope with my condition on a day-by-day basis or I could take this medication and feel numb for the rest of my life." "So Steve didn't encourage or coerce you into wearing, then?" Ray shook his head. "No. Actually, that day when he accidentally showed the team his diaper, I felt more encouraged to talk to him. He was someone I could talk to. I knew, right away, that he could relate to what I was experiencing. What I didn't know was that he was also a nice guy, and a lot of fun to be around." "That he is. And hey, I'm really happy that he has a good guy watching his back," said the gator. Ray pointed to himself, surprised. "Me?" Michael nodded. "Not a lot of people understand what Steve has gone through. Imagine living every day, every minute of your life, not knowing when you're going to have that 'accident.' You don't know when, but when it does happen, you feel very self-conscious. He needs to be around more people who not only understand his circumstances, but share them as well. Me? I wear when I'm around Steve because, hey, why shouldn't I? But I'm not incontinent. If I was, gosh... I wouldn't know if my kids would ever take him seriously? 'Hey mom! Dad pooped his diaper! Hardy-har-har-har.'" The gator took a deep breath and exhaled. He continued. "You know, I still can't believe that you and the 'Thunder Kid' -- that's Steve's nickname -- are together. It seems... almost incestuous. Don't get me wrong." Ray nodded. "No, no. I get it. He's my coach. I'm on the team. He's my mentor too." "But he loves you." "And I love him." "Then take care of him. We've entrusted you with this -- oh, how should I put this -- special bond. Don't screw it up!" said the gator. He chuckled and patted his young diapered friend on the back. He turned to the roo and grinned. "Hope I didn't scare the shit out of you too badly. I have that effect on people," he bragged. "Fortunately you got a diaper on." Ray rolled his eyes. "Big, diapered scalies don't scare me." The Thunder came back and won the game to advance to the finals. The diapered trio celebrated by eating some cold pizza and guzzling several cans of soda. While he was distracted, Ray forgot to change out of his now day-old diaper. He realized his negligence when his diaper started to leak onto the couch. He started peeing in his diaper and noticed that his side of the couch was warmer and damper than usual. He blushed and stood up suddenly. Steve saw a steady stream of piss oozing down his partner's leg. "Someone's sprunk a leak!" exclaimed Michael. Steve got up, fetched a towel from his bedroom and placed it on the couch where Ray was sitting. "I should invest in some incontinent pads," he said to Michael. "I'm so sorry!" Ray lowered his ears and sat down on the towel. "It's alright." Ray's diaper was no longer absorbing the liquid. When he peed, the urine splashed back onto his shaft. It was a very pleasant, warm sensation. With a clean diaper, you don't necessarily feel "dirty" when you wet the first time around. It's the second time around when you feel like you need a change. The erotic feeling of being on the brink of leaking stirred the roo up, and got him blushing mercilessly. Steve knew that Ray was turned on by the humiliating experience. Ray got off on the need to rely on someone else to change him. He could easily do it himself, but with two able pals in the room, getting changed would be an easy task. Ten minutes and a fresh diaper later, Ray thanked Steve by giving him a kiss on the cheek. "That's the second time you bailed me out," said Ray. "We all have our ups and downs," said Steve dismissively. "Don't sweat it." It was mid-afternoon and the sun started to set. Michael and Ray got dressed and left Steve's house together. Michael got into his car, which was parked in front of the coach's place. Ray casually strolled over the car as Michael was buckling up in the driver's seat. Michael turned the ignition and rolled his window down. He looked at the roo and smiled. "It was fun hanging with you, kid," said Michael. "So, hey, how did you get here? Did you drive or --" "I walked." "You want a ride?" "Sure." Ray gave Michael directions back to his house. After hanging out with the gator, Ray considered the assistant coach a friend. But Michael wasn't on the same wavelength. He saw the roo as a caring, playful yet submissive roo. The gator was entertaining some interesting thoughts about the now-former Evergreen High player. He couldn't help but enjoy the moment Ray's diaper was leaking. In his mind, Michael played the scene in slow motion. Piss ran down Ray's legs; it splattered onto the carpet and created a small stain on the carpet. Then there was Ray's wet diaper. It was already dark with wetness before, but when he was flooding it, the outside of it was already sparkling with a wet, pissy dew. Michael had to hold himself back from squeezing Ray's diaper and feeling that wetness with his fingers. Then there was that bulge. The bulge appeared to be pointed upward as if the roo was horny from the awkwardness. It looked like Ray had leaked his diaper on purpose! But he looked at the roo's face, and saw him looking down at his diaper with a concerned expression. "No wonder Steve fell for the guy," Michael thought. "What a nasty guy!" "Are you alright?" asked Ray, who noticed Michael was preoccupied. "Yeah. Should I turn left at the next light?" "Yep! Over there..." Michael's interest in wearing diapers wasn't as innocent as he made it out to be. It was true that he got into diapers with Steve as a way to bond with him, but the interest was much more than that. The gator was always a deviant in one form or another. As a youngster, Michael actually liked wetting his pants. He liked doing so because he was a contrarian; he liked to do the opposite of what he was supposed to do. Need to use the toilet? No. He would go in his pants. His parents were understandably upset with his habits. They hoped that their son would get out of that "phase." Eventually, he did -- with the help of diapers, of course. As he got older, it was clear to Michael that he developed a diaper and pants-wetting fetish. After he moved away from Steve's neighborhood, Michael lost his diaper supply. By that time, he learned to keep his strange habits dormant. From time to time, he thought about the adrenaline rush that he got from wetting himself: the feeling of letting go entirely while soaking up the warmth like a sponge. And for that duration, he's constantly reminded of what a bad boy he is and how he deserves a spanking. When he reached adulthood, Michael's tastes became more abstract. He was heavily into bondage. He liked to be the recipient of punishment, but he preferred to administrate it. He got a sexual charge from assuming power or someone, especially someone who was willing to relinquish their independence. He often entertained fantasies of forcing someone into diapers and manipulating their bathroom control. Until Ray came along, most of his fantasies involved females and rarely males. Ray piqued his interest. When Ray's diaper started leaking, Michael noticed how the young roo continued peeing and did nothing to stop it. It was clear that Ray pretended to be helpless and desperate. He could have wandered to the bathroom, which was only a few steps away, but didn't. This turned the big gator on. It was almost as if Ray knew what buttons to press. As he drove Ray home, Michael felt his libido send a sexualized jolt throughout his body. He wanted so badly to act on his impulse, drive Ray somewhere quiet and tie him up -- just for fun, of course. But the responsible adult side of him prevailed and drove him home without incident. Ray arrived home. After he was dropped off in front of his house, the roo checked the family mailbox. Inside it was a letter personally addressed to him. This was the letter that would change his life forever. The Redwood Nationals, a professional team, expressed interest in signing him. The letter couldn't have come at a more awkward time. He was recently awarded a full scholarship to a local university, which was conveniently located near Steve. The problem was that Redwood was located nearly six hours north, and he had no intention of being any further from his boyfriend. He figured that he could attend the university, sharpen his skills for a few years and complete his education should he decide to pursue another career beside basketball. There was always that possibility. Yet he always dreamed of playing in the big leagues. If he started playing in the fall, which is when the next season starts, he could generate some significant buzz. The question is whether he could meet or exceed the hype. Though all the possibilities yielded very favorable results, Ray wanted to maintain his relationship with Steve. Ray's evolving affections for Steve impaired his ability to make an objective decision. He walked into the house and spent some time quietly reflecting on his life. He sat down on his bed with his crinkly diaper softly cradling his rear. He looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 5:35 PM. He sighed and studied all the posters on his wall. Each poster consisted of a basketball player that he admired. Then his eyes were fixed on one poster in particular; that of Steve Markos. Jersey number 8. Most Valuable Player of the year from 2003 through 2005. Ray could barely tell that the buck was wearing a diaper underneath those shorts. The poster was a photo of Steve dunking the ball with his signature tomahawk slam. Then Ray's mind went blank. He looked at his posters and grew restless. Without thinking twice, Ray stood up, went to his closet to retrieve his basketball and left the house. This time, he took his car. He drove to a nearby basketball court to shoot some hoops. The court was located in a park a few blocks east of his high school. This always helped clear his mind. He pretended that he was being guarded by someone so he could practice his spin moves and making contested shots. Ray was getting into the practice with some intensity. He felt that he needed the workout. It helped ease the tension. Every time he thought about his personal situation, the ball slipped out of his hands. Every time the ball slipped out of his hands, the ball bounced to the opposite end of the court. The act of retrieving the ball took him out of his element. After about an hour of shooting around the ball, Ray got exasperated and left the court. When he got back in his car, Ray buried his head with his hands and leaned over the steering wheel. A lot was going through his mind, and he could barely deal with it all. The roo took his time driving back home. He drove by the coach's house and headed downtown. He drove around aimlessly for a while, looking around. He wanted to park somewhere random and walk until his legs gave out, but he didn't want his family concerned. He came across a medical supply store, parked in their lot and walked inside. There, he looked for a couple of things: a bag of adult diapers and a waterproof pad. He felt that his diaper dependence was more of a distraction than entertaining foreplay. He also wanted to make sure that any leaks were contained. The supply store had a surprisingly unique array of diapers to choose from. There were common store brands and the "hospital-grade," as they were referred to in the store. He reached for the "hospital-grade," which were similar to the diapers Steve wore for his incontinence. He found the pad, which was conveniently located next to the "incontinence aids." By the time he got to the checkout stand, he pulled his hooded top over his head to conceal his identity. Steve cleaned up his living room, vacuumed the floor and put all the trash in a big trash bag. He wanted to make absolutely sure that the house was nice and tidy -- as if there were no rambuctious diaper boys around. The coach felt more comfortable with the fact that everyone was getting along. He was concerned that the assistant coach Michael would be disapproving of his relationship with a former player. He was very nervous about others finding out about the relationship, including his childhood friend. What Steve didn't know was that Michael kept a close eye on Ray, and that he kept a close eye on him since he first saw the roo in diapers during a game. Steve was under the impression that the gator was a family man; a big guy with a gentle soul and a penchant for wearing diapers once in a while. Little did he know that diapers, to Michael, was a practice in bondage: something that the perverted gator appreciated. Suddenly, the phone rang. The buck just finished cleaning the living room and was about to check his e-mail. He answered the phone. It was Michael. He called to inform Steve that his wife was going on vacation for a week. She planned on taking the kids to their grandparents' house, which was located a few hours away. Michael was wondering if Ray wanted to housesit for a couple of days and earn a little cash on the site. Without thinking twice, Steve told Michael that he would relay the message. Michael told Steve that the roo could watch over the house and "pad around" if he wanted to. It seemed innocent enough. After he got off the phone with Michael, Steven called Ray's cell phone and left a message on his voicemail. As he was leaving the message, Steve felt that something was amiss, but he couldn't explain why. Steve and Michael knew each other for years, and it didn't feel like something ominous was going to happen. He spent a lot of time at the assistant coach's house and thought nothing of it. Nothing ever happened between them. Ray was already back at his house when Steve called him. "Housesitting?" Ray asked Steve in disbelief. "It shouldn't be a big deal. He'd kick you a few bucks if you helped out," said Steve. Ray paced back and forth in his bedroom while he conversed with Steve. "And what about Michael?" "He's the coach for the summer leagues at school. His hours are about... I think... eight until six, so he has a ten-hour shift there. Someone's got to watch the house for him. He also said you could diaper up to your hearts' content. You do have the place to yourself." Ray rubbed his chin. "Okay, sure. Why not?" It was Monday morning, and Ray arrived at Michael's house. Steve provided him with directions, and told him that a set of house keys were located under the doormat of his front patio. Ray found the keys, helped himself inside the modest two-story home, and brought his backpack of supplies with him. He turned on the lights to the living room and looked around cautiously. The house was peaceful and quiet. Ray was still waking up, so he stretched his long arms and yawned. He wasn't used to getting up this early. But he was more than happy to, given the fact that he had the whole house to wander around in his diapers: a luxury that wasn't conveniently available to him at his parents' house. He also had some time alone to think about his personal situation as it was evolving. He toured around the house and studied the rooms. The first floor consisted of the living room, the kitchen and a hallway leading to the bedrooms of his kids. Also in the hallway, there was a bathroom door and a door that led to the basement. The basement door was locked. Upstairs was where the master bedroom and bathroom were located, and there were a pair of hall closets. Ray respected Michael's privacy and left the closet doors unopened. However, the roo was curious about where the big gator stashed his diapers. When the coast was clear, Ray undressed in the master bedroom. He took off his shirt, pants and underwear, leaving only his thick diaper and socks. The first order of business was to perform carwheels around the bedroom while shouting, "Free at last!" When he calmed down, Ray turned on the television in the master bedroom and sat down at the corner of the bed. Ray watched the local news. The sports segment came on, and the sports anchor talked about the score between the Thunder and the Stars. It was Game 2 out of 7, and the Stars were up by nine. The Thunder had been struggling in their transitions. Still, analysts predicted that the Thunder would rally later in the game. As he watched the news, Ray kept thinking about his future. A professional team was interested in him already! He couldn't believe it. The one thing keeping him from appearing before millions of fans on the basketball court was his hesitation. He would have no choice, but to move out of the area. However, moving away from parents was always desirable. Moving away could result in complete independence, and he could do whatever he wanted. The problem, obviously, was Steve. His relationship with Steve was the first serious one he's ever had. He loved the coach dearly. He didn't want to leave Steve's side. The sex was good too. Jogging downstairs, Ray fetched his backpack and brought it to the master bedroom. He sat the backpack down on the floor once he returned and took out a waterproof pad, which covered the entire bed. He rolled out the pad and laid comfortably on top of it. He kept his hand on his diaper while he relaxed in bed and watched TV. After an hour, he got bored and the cure wasn't immediately within reach. He walked back down the stairs to check out what was in Michael's fridge. He entered the kitchen and helped himself to a bowl of cereal, toast and orange juice. The roo made a nice breakfast, sat at their dining room table and took his time eating. He enjoyed every bite. The only thing that bothered him was the ticking of the grandfather clock nearby. Tick, tock. Hearing that -- and nothing else -- reminded him that he was alone. Or so he thought. After Ray went upstairs, Michael returned home. He told school officials that he felt "a little under the weather," so he cut practice short and left the campus. He snuck into the house, closed the front door gently and tiptoed into his son's bedroom. There, the gator put on a black spandex hood, took off his overcoat and stood in front of his son's mirror. He was wearing a harness with a shiny metal chain, which complimented the soft leather and metal snaps. He also wore revealing leather chaps and a diaper underneath. Clearly, this is part of Michael's plan -- and all the moving parts were moving just as he intended. Judging by his appearance, it looked as though Michael was well-versed in bondage play. And nobody -- not even his wife -- was aware of his kinky, devilish side. And there was Ray, innocently watching television; having no idea what was about to unfold. Michael wandered up the stairs. Ray couldn't hear the footsteps because the door to the master bedroom was closed. The leather-clad gator arrived at the door and slowly turned the knob. Ray saw the doorknob turning and jiggling. His heart skipped a beat. The door swung open slowly. "It's me," said Michael. "I'm not a burglar!" Ray exhaled and reached for his chest. "Geeze. You scared me, man." But when the door opened all the way, he saw Michael dressed in intimidating clothes. He wasn't familiar with the costume. He had a sinking feeling that something was going to happen. The roo froze, but not before he sat up in bed. Michael approached him, grabbed his arm and led him out of the door. They went downstairs. Ray was only going along with it because he felt the appearance was sexual in nature. He was warming up to the idea of some sexual experimentation. Eventually, he figured it out -- only when they went visited Michael's basement. The gator turned on the lights in the basement. The basement was a workshop that doubled as a bondage area. Hanging from the wall was a series of chains, shackles and suspension cuffs. Bondage gear was littered all over the floor. In one corner of the basement, there was a pair of collars, rubber hoods and mitts. In another corner, there were bags of adult diapers of different varieties, piled up on top of each other. "This is weird," Ray said innocently. "Now I know the extent of your 'friendship' with the coach." "He doesn't know," snapped Michael in a raspy voice. "Put on that hood." He pointed to one of the hoods located in a nearby corner. Ray walked over, retrieved the hood and put it on his head. It fit perfectly. "Now sit on the table. Raise your arms." Ray did everything he was asked to do, but had difficulty accomplishing the tasks. The roo couldn't see anything, so he felt his way through the basement. Finally, he sat on a large metallic table. Michael put mitts on the roo's hands and subsequently attached those mitts to cuffs. The cuffs were connected to the chains hanging from the ceiling. Ray's arms were bound. His movements were restricted. Once he was done, Michael teased the roo. Michael massaged the submissive roo's shoulders, and allowed his hands to slide down to the waist. He squeezed Ray's diapered bulge. The diaper was still dry, but Michael detected the roo's erection. Then he held onto Ray's waist and pushed it up against his own diaper, causing sensual friction. All they could hear was the sound of two diapers crinkling against each other. Ray felt his heart racing, and at times, seemingly leaping out of his chest. This was something he never experienced before, but being restrained and teased was absolutely invigorating. Their diapers grinded against each other. That blossomed into Michael fondling Ray, groping him very suggestively. Every grope, the squeeze was stronger. For every squeeze, the diaper tightened around the roo's hardened member. The crinkling got louder after Michael latched onto his diaper-covered dick. The friction of the diaper brushing up against his foreskin was akin to masturbation, but the feeling was significantly more stimulating. While his brain was thinking, "What's going on? This is weird, man," his hormones added, "But I like it." "Why... all of this?" asked Ray. "Cocksuckers don't talk," Michael replied. The gator stopped what he was doing and walked to a black-colored trunk that contained a tripod, camcorder, laptop and accessory cables. He set up the tripod in front of Ray, placed the camcorder on top and turned it on. He connected the laptop to the camcorder with the intent to capture Ray on video. Ray had no idea this was happening. There were some clues that Ray picked up on. For one, he heard the startup sound of Michael's laptop. It was a familiar chime. He could hear the clicking of the keys as Michael set up the stream parameters on his laptop. When he heard Ray squirming on the table and his chains rattle, Michael turned around. He smiled and told his "slave" that "millions of people will be watching you now." To Ray, the sexual game was no longer fun. He feared for his reputation. There he was, bound in restraints and in diapers. What was once private was now going to be very public. He started thinking about his future in light of this fear he was developing. He imagined playing in the big leagues, dribbling the ball with future hall-of-famers and players that he looked up to. He imagined people in the stands cheering his name followed by the chant, "MVP! MVP!" He imagined being the one who banked that seemingly magical-yet-contested shot with ten seconds left in the fourth quarter, putting his team in the lead. He imagined hearing the overwhelmingly loud cheers and cries of joy the moment the ball swished through the net. All of these visions in consideration gave Ray extraordinary happiness. However, all of it could be taken away. Filled with anger, Ray tried tugging on his restraints, but it was ultimately futile. As he resisted, Michael quietly walked away and went up the stairs. Ray could hear the footsteps of the gator going upstairs. He shouted, "Fuck you!" to Michael before he heard the door to the basement close. Ray suffered from a panic attack and started breathing heavily. He struggled and jerked his body around. It was no use. He knew it was no use. The roo was out of breath, exhausted and was already resigned to hopelessness. Still, Ray didn't feel like he was kidnapped. He knew that Michael wasn't going to risk his reputation. He knew he wasn't going to be held indefinitely. The only thing preserving Ray's dignity was the fact that his diaper was still dry. However, his anxiety had weighed heavily on his full bladder. He needed to pee. The urge was rising by the minute. He tried desperately to calm down. Ray managed to lay perfectly still and take deep breaths. He tried dropping all of his thoughts, fears, and everything in between. He focused on nothingness. There was a serenity that he was able to tap into, despite the circumstances. However, he let go too much. He started wetting his diaper. Because the basement was relatively small and packed some reverb, he could hear the hissing of his diaper. He wet with a consistent, thick stream. The camcorder picked up on his diaperfront swelling with piss while it turned dark. The wetness indicators faded away. He moaned in agony as he uncontrollably unloaded into his diaper. The relief felt great, though. His diaper was warm, damp and it sagged so dramatically before the camcorder. Meanwhile, in the family garage, Michael was watching Ray wet himself on his private video feed. The garage was sectioned in half. The other half of his garage was his office. Still dressed in his bondage outfit, Michael sat at his desk and rubbed his diaper suggestively. The gator could feel his diaper tenting up. The tension was mounting steadily. He watched as his "slave" profusely wet his diaper like a big baby. When he started feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter with pulsating arousal, Michael rose from his seat and went back to the basement. When he walked down the stairs to the basement, Michael heard Ray whimpering and muttering to himself. He approached the table and saw Ray drenched in sweat, appearing lifeless. When he heard the gator's footsteps, Ray lowered his ears. He knew that if he said anything or protested, he could make the situation worse. But deep in the back of his mind, Ray wandered what other forms of torture the assistant coach had at his disposal. He sighed heavily when he realized the horny gator stood before him. Michael tilted his head and reached for the roo's hood. "What a baby," teased Michael with a low growl. "A big fucking baby. Look at you." Michael suddenly squeezed Ray's wet diaper. He stirred the roo's musky urine scent with his fingertips. Ray moaned. "I-I have to poop," he softly confessed to Michael. "Let me go." "Let you go? You're going to use your diaper." Ray felt his heart beating from the exchange. "Right now?" he asked Michael. "Now. Shit your diaper." Ray was ordered to soil his diaper. It was a strange order to give someone, but Ray had no choice but to comply. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it. He knew that Michael was watching him so he had to act soon. He closed his eyes and imagined that he was sitting on a toilet somewhere. He pretended that he was holding it all day and it had to come out. Michael moved his hand to cup the seat of Ray's diaper as he sat on the table, attempting to force the mess out. He passed some gas, but it was muffled. Michael rubbed the Ray's diapered rear as a means of coaching him. The diaper puckered up in the back for a moment as the roo tightened his muscles. And finally, after five minutes, a solid mess dropped suddenly in the back of his diaper. Michael muttered, "Good boy!" to Ray and rubbed the fairly large mess. He squished the mess with his hand and pushed it against the roo's tailhole. Michael unhooked Ray's arms from the chains, but his hands remained restrained. "Lay down. On your back. Now," Michael commanded. The roo complied. Michael untaped the dirty, heavy diaper as Ray laid on the table. Showing some care, the gator wiped the mess off Ray's rear with the diaper's piss-side. Ray felt a warm, wet sensation around his tailhole. It felt nice. When he was done "cleaning" Ray, Michael took the dirty diaper and dumped it in an odor-free diaper pail beside the table. The diaper landed on the bottom of the pail with a loud thud. Naked, Ray laid motionless. He didn't know what was going to happen next. It started with a playful swat on Ray's bare rump, but it quickly escalated into a series of sharply felt spanks. A few minutes before, Michael ordered Ray to lay on his stomach. Ray still couldn't see anything, but he felt the pleasurable jolts of pain -- one after another. Despite having a fuzzy rear end, Ray could hear the slapping nose from the hand to the skin. Fhwap! The spanks came in rapid succession; every half-second. Michael told Ray that spanking was punishment for "having to use diapers." Michael playfully teased Ray for being a "baby who peed his pants and couldn't help it." The bondage-loving gator stopped spanking after a while, crawled onto the table and stood up. He towered over the roo, looked down at him and smiled. He physically flipped the roo onto his back. When he stood back up again, he pulled down the front of his diaper to retrieve his dick. The gator was well-hung and obviously excited. He aimed his member at Ray's torso. His bladder reached a boiling point after being forced to stay dormant for several hours. Michael waited for this moment. A stream of urine came charging out. It poured mercilessly onto Ray's stomach. Combined with the idea that "millions" were watching the experience unfold on a live feed added to the humiliation, but the roo was completely infatuated with the sexual adrenaline that the humiliation created. The roo wanted so badly to jerk off to what was happening to him, but he couldn't. The tension was overwhelming. His natural instinct was to get off as soon as possible, but Michael kept holding the poor boy back. He wasn't done yet. Crawling off the table, Michael told Ray, "I had to go, and you were the nearest toilet." "Ohhhhh!" Ray moaned. Michael knew the roo couldn't take it anymore, so he changed his plans a little. While he laid on the table, Ray felt his diaper being squeezed. This time, he felt Michael's hand grope his shaft. The gator removed his hood to suck on Ray's dick. He crawled back on the table and sucked him passionately. The roo curled his toes and moaned as he felt the gator's talented tongue wrap around his throbbing member. It didn't take long before Ray came into Michael's maw. That was the purpose of the exercise. He graciously swallowed the roo's thick, hot seed and didn't think twice about me. Michael pulled away, wiped the sticky spunk from his lips and cleared his throat. He looked over at Ray who was panting and moaning graciously. "Wow" was the only word Ray could muster. Michael removed Ray's hood and restraints. "I have a confession to make," said Michael. "I taped you, but only I was watching -- not 'millions'." Ray sat up and looked at the camcorder, which was turned off. He sighed. "Ray, get yourself cleaned up. Shower's on the first floor. First door to your right. Call me on the phone when you're done and want a diaper. I'll be in my office." As Michael sat in his office, jerking off to the video of Ray wetting his diaper, Ray took a shower. As he lathered his body in soap, Ray's mind was working overtime. He thought about the strange encounter with Michael in the basement. Just thinking about everything that happened was exhausting to the young, diaper-loving roo. He had an orgasm that was so strong, it caused his legs to buckle once he ejaculated. He was spent, but he also felt surprisingly peaceful. At the same time, he wasn't sure whether or not Steve knew what happened. He felt slightly uncomfortable, not knowing about Steve's role in this. He didn't know whether his experiences in the basement constituted "cheating," and he doubted Michael's claim that Steve didn't know of his S&M preferences. He was very unsure about a lot of things. But there was one thing that he sure of: whatever happened down there, he loved it. He concluded his shower with a faint smile, just thinking about all the dirty deeds that he took part in. Meanwhile, in Michael's master bedroom, Ray's cell phone rang almost continously. It rang and vibrated on Michael's dresser. The first missed call was from Ray's sister, asking where he was. He left the house several hours earlier, and didn't tell his family where he was going. The second missed call was Steve, who also expressed concern. Nobody truly knew what happened to Ray. He was very much alive and well, but his intensified lust for sexual deviance started to take control of his consciousness. While he couldn't predict what his future would be, Ray was fully content with living in the moment. And that made things even more complicated.

Dufinack sounds like the evolved form of a prehistoric duck.

I'd love to visit Thailand one day.