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SallyKAT

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SallyKAT last won the day on September 14 2019

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  1. How embarrassing. All those ‘1 year later’ things. where there’s life there’s hope. I’ll try to write another chapter this weekend. : )
  2. ‘Former executive’ in quotes, ABAlex. The sort of title given to staff to justify their high charge out rate, or to keep them on board: ‘senior consultant’ or even ‘executive consultant’. I know a sole proprietor who describes himself as ‘managing director’.
  3. ‘Now?’ Chapter 1 (part) ‘Now?’ asked Chris, looking anxiously at his wife and simultaneously feeling a small, nervous spurt of pee escape into his adult pull-ups. ‘You didn’t say anything about that.’ ’No, I didn’t,’ replied Anthea. ‘I’m actually quite busy, and I honestly don’t see the need to keep you informed of everything in my diary.’ Anthea spoke without taking her attractively made up eyes from the road. She looked like what she was - the house legal counsel for a large software developer. Her husband’s former employer. Chris turned and looked again at his wife as she drove her smart European coupe out of the mall car park, towards not home but some unknown destination where Chris would have to endure another ‘expert’ peering into the details of his life. His life now, thought Chris miserably, not his life then. He moved his hips to get comfortable on the slippery leather of the car seat. He wet slightly again, and knew by feel that his various little leaks that morning had added up to a wet pull-up that now needed changing. Chris felt the familiar, rising sense of feeling sorry for himself and also needing help from Anthea. Anthea had a sixth sense about the condition of Chris’s underclothing, whether it was the pull-ups he wore for trips out, or the disposable diapers he wore at night. With the briefest glance in Chris’s direction, she asked him if he needed changing. ‘Yes,’ said Chris quietly, catching his breath as he attempted to stifle a sob. He couldn’t help it sometimes. Anthea was so perfect compared to him. She had a big job and was the breadwinner. She had lots of colleagues and friends, while Chris’s world and contacts had shrunk to home, Anthea and the few people who knew the couple well enough to know about Chris’s condition. He wasn’t even sure some of the people Anthea dealt with knew she was married. ‘You can change when we get there,’ said Anthea. Chris looked down at the familiar blue bag at his feet in the carpeted footwell. It was a diaper bag, like mothers had for their babies and toddlers. But it was his diaper bag. He knew what was in it. Two or three pull-ups, a couple of disposables, plastic pants, horrible, embarrassing smelling talc, plus wipes and a few creams. There would also be a change of outer pants for Chris, whatever Anthea had chosen for him. He hadn’t chosen what he wore for so long now, Chris thought. He looked down over the denim bib of his shortfalls to the slight bulge in the vee of his crotch, where the stitching of the fake fly curved down between his legs. He didn’t even look male any more down there, he thought, and his feelings of self pity and need overcame him. He released the remainder of his pee into his pull-up and gave way to the sobbing he’d tried to suppress. He reached across the car and clutched a handful of his wife’s expensive woollen skirt, feeling the slippery layers of satin lining and Anthea’s pantyhose beneath. ‘Oh, honey, please,’ said Anthea, carefully prising Chris’s fingers from her skirt but still holding his hand. ‘We haven’t got time for this.’ Chris knew she meant she didn’t have time for this. Chris had lots of time. It wasn’t really his time, though. Not now. Now, Anthea usually decided how Chris would spend his time. He was 27 years old, a ‘former executive’ even if he had trouble now remembering what he actually did, and now his wife decided how he spent his time. And what he wore. He knew his shortalls were practical. They stopped wet pull-ups from sagging, they were comfortable and easy to get in and out of. Chris had objected to them at first as too childish, but Anthea said he’d get used to them. Which he did. He’d learned that there was no point arguing with Anthea. back soon
  4. Great story. Using the first chapter to describe Chase’s permanent babified state was an excellent idea. We now move through the story knowing what Chase doesn’t. im really looking forward to more of this story.
  5. Hmm. He's heading for zero, all right, but will he be able to get back?
  6. A good start. They'll probably spend the evening drinking coffee and watching TV. : )
  7. A bit odd, but Elfy's good at this. I wonder where this will go next?
  8. Chris and June Chapter 4 Chris sat quietly as they drove home. As they approached their local group of shops, June slowed and pulled into a park. 'I won't be long, honey,' she told Chris as she opened her door and got out. 'OK,' said Chris. He looked down at the crotch of his borrowed pale blue pants. He'd really wet himself. He lifted his bottom from the seat and felt his backside. He was soaked. He wondered how he had still had so much in his bladder, after wetting earlier 'Wetting earlier,' he thought. That applied to him. he'd wet the bed last night, and this was his second wetting today. It wasn't fair, he thought. Why was this happening to him? June arrived back to the car, and opened a rear door to put on the seat a large package in a plastic bag. 'What have you bought?' asked Chris. 'Something to help you, honey.' replied June. 'Not, you know, those things,' asked Chris. June sighed. 'If you mean protective panties, then yes, that's what I bought,' said June. 'But June...' began Chris. 'Chris,' said June firmly. 'You no longer have good bladder control, despite all your excuses about 'accidents''. I told you that Sally thinks you should already be wearing protection, and she's right. I won't have you embarrassing yourself, and me, by wetting your pants in public. I think it's time I took charge here, and helped you cope with what's happening to you.' 'You said Sally said only at night...' objected Chris. 'Chris, please,' said June. 'You have a problem, although you don't seem to want to deal with it. Well it's my problem too, and I am going to deal with it. I am now in charge of what you wear, OK? At night and during the day. If I had a young child with the same issues, I'd do the same thing. I should have done this some time ago. No arguments, please Chris. I am now in charge of what you wear. Full stop. No arguments. OK?' Chris was now crying again. 'For heavens' sake,' said June. 'You wet the bed last night, you've wet twice today, and I think it's likely you'll wet the bed again tonight. I think you have to accept that you need diapers, Chris.' 'I don't want diapers!' Chris almost shouted, looking fiercely at June with his bottom lip quivering and tears coursing down his cheeks. He felt a surge of wet warmth in his pants, and his expression changed to a look of pleading hopelessness. 'Oh baby,' said June, 'I know it's not what you want, but it's what you need. You need help with this, and I'm here to help. I love you no matter what, baby, you know that.' June leant over and kissed Chris's wet, salty cheek. Chris calmed down, and looked out the window as June drove off again. He watched a mother and her two children walking along the side of the road. The older child, about five or six, was wearing jeans. His younger sister was clearly diapered, and waddled along in her bulky pants, holding her mother's hand. I'm just like her, Chris thought miserably, and had to catch and hold his breath for a moment to avoid sobbing. They arrived home. Chris sat quietly, absorbed in his thoughts. 'Out you get, honey,' said June, who had got out and come around to Chris's door. Chris climbed out of the car. He stood in his soaked pants, feeling the wet fabric cold against his legs. He reached out and took June's hand. She glanced at his fingers curled around hers and thought for a moment, then gave his fingers a squeeze. Chris followed her around to the other side of the car where with her free hand she opened the back door of the car, reached in to pick up the bulky plastic bag. Chris clutched June's hand as she opened the front door and they walked inside. 'I think you need a shower, sweetie,' she said. 'Off you go. I'll see you in the bedroom.' Chris walked to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the big mirror there. He saw a slightly built man with shiny, shoulder length blonde hair and red eyes, wearing very wet and quite tight pale blue track pants with a soaked, dark blue crotch. He felt the warm wetness once more and the dark blue began to extend down the inside of each leg. He couldn't stop the flow. Sobbing again, Chris hurriedly kicked off his borrowed pink shoes and pulled down his wet pants. He felt himself stop peeing, and looked again in the mirror. His big, white panties were translucent in front, and he could see the outline of his genitals beneath the expanse of wet fabric. With his smooth legs and long hair, he didn't even look particularly male. He thought of the little girl in her diaper. Stopping that train of thought, he took the panties off and pulled the blue top over his head. He piled the wet clothes onto the chair in the bathoom and got into the shower. Thankfully, that felt normal. He was giving himself a good, soapy wash when he heard June come in. 'All good, honey?' she asked. 'A shower should make you feel better. All nice and clean.' 'Yeah,' said Chris from the shower cubicle. He saw June pick up the wet clothes. 'I'll put these in the wash,' said June as she left the room. Chris felt a surge of gratitude for his wife. He just wanted to hug her. Chris spent a few minutes washing his hair. He emerged from the shower and wrapped himself in a towel. He thought for a moment before heading to the bedroom. He wasn't sure what he would find in there, but he was glad June was there, not anyone else. My life is changing, he thought, and felt the tears rising again. In the bedroom, June was sitting on the bed, next to a large plastic package. Chris stared at the package. He felt this was happening to someone else, that he was just an observer. June smiled at him. 'Come here, honey.' she said. Chris approached her and she reached up and sat Chris on the bed next to her. 'Honey, you need some help,' she said. 'You need to face what's happening to you.' Chris nodded. He was doing his best. 'And I'm here to help,' said June, helping Chris up and removing his towel. Chris stood quietly, naked in front of June as she opened the big package and pulled out something white, folded and padded. 'These go on just like ordinary underwear,' said June. Chris looked at the plastic bag. There was still something big inside it. Two packets of these things, he thought. How long does she think I'll need them for, he asked himself. 'Leg in,' said June, and Chris saw her holding out the padded pullup for him to step into. At least I didn't have to lie down and be changed like a baby, he thought. 'There you are,' said June. 'How do they feel?' She sounds so normal, thought Chris. She's making me wear padded panties like a little kid who wets himself, and she's talking as if it's just a new pair of pants. 'OK,' replied Chris. The pants actually felt warm and comfortable. They were a bit like the panties he'd just taken off. They covered his whole backside and most of his tummy too as June pulled them up to his waist. Chris put his hand to the back of the pants and felt the padding there. They were padded in front, too, he could feel. He looked down and could hardly make out the little bump of his dick and balls beneath the white padding. Chris turned from June and was about to go to the chest of drawers to get some jeans. 'I've got pants for you to wear, Chris,' said June. 'I was getting a pair of jeans,' said Chris. He wanted something a bit adult, not just track pants. At least something with a fly. 'I think these will be better,' said June, holding up a pair of Chris's grey track pants. 'But jeans...' said Chris. 'No,' said June. 'I'd rather you wear these.' 'I'm in charge of what you wear,' he heard June's voice in his head The reality of what was happening was starting to close in on him, and he nodded. 'OK,' he said quietly. 'Good boy,' said June, holding out the track pants. He put in one leg after the other, and June pulled the pants up. 'Now your top,' said June. Dressed in his grey track pants and top, Chris stood quietly as June brushed his hair. She did that sometimes. She always said Chris had such lovely hair. He liked the way it looked, too, and was glad that he could let it grow a bit now that he wasn't at the office any more. 'It's falling over your face,' said June, 'You need bangs,' she added with a laugh. 'No!' said Chris. 'Well a pony tail, then,' said June. 'It's nearly long enough.' 'It's ok, said Chris. At least the subject of his hair took his mind off what he was wearing. He turned around, and felt again the padding between his legs. He craned his head around to look at himself in the mirror. . June patted his padded rump. 'No one will even notice,' she said. 'And if you have an accident, just tell me and I'll fix it. That must make you feel better, honey.' Chris swallowed. His wife had just put him in a diaper, or whatever this was called, and she says it will make him feel better. He looked at June. 'It's a, a diaper,' he said unhappily. 'It's a pullup, honey. Lots of people wear them - other than toddlers, I mean,' she said. 'It's still a...' Chris began. 'Chris please,' said June. 'You are wearing what you need to wear. I'm very proud of the way you're dealing with this and Sally will be too. Now let's go and have a nice hot drink.' 'OK,' said Chris, and followed June out to the kitchen. He still felt a little disconnected, as if this were happening to someone else. He was an adult, June's husband, and she had just diapered him or pulluped him at least. On the other hand, he felt a sense of security now. If he did have an accident, it wouldn't be a full on pants-wetting accident. I'll just change my pullup, he thought. 'My pullup,' he thought again. This is really happening. He looked at June in her tight jeans, blouse and sweater. She also had on panties, a bra, and pantyhose and shoes, he thought. Adult clothing. I've got a pullup, pants and a top, he thought, and not even any shoes. Like a toddler. June made two cups of coffee and set one down in front of Chris. Seated as he was, June's denim-clad crotch was at his eye level as she gave him his coffee. He looked at the swell of her pubic mound under the tight denim. She could dress like that because she never wet her pants, because she was an adult, Chris thought. She didn't need a pullup because she was an adult. He needed one because he was, well, different. He tried telling himself 'I'm an adult too',; but it didn't ring true. He couldn't get the idea out of his head that somehow he was losing his adult status. What's happening to me, he asked himself..All he got in reply were confused images and feelings of wetting his pants, and cuddling June. To be continued.
  9. I'll do my best. Just at present my day to day life is affected by the virus. I hope to have some time to write in the next week. I enjoy writing these stories, so I'm keen to get back to it. Sal
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