Latest News and Updates

Oh well at least we know there are others who live in the area

I am just thinking here out loud lolsleepers would you wear your regular size diaper plus a size up like since I am large size wearer.  I could get some that are XL over the large. it would be much thicker.  Plus I am thinking that it would help with those who wear to bed for protection and are side sleeprs. I have read on here that @Slomo is a side sleeper maybe that could help out as well I do not know.

Oh no not quite I live more north 

Camila was at home going over her papers one of the benefits to being a homeowner at such a young age and going to college was that you didn't have to worry about interruptions or nosy roommates going through your stuff plus what she had planned she needed privacy. When her phone rang Camille knew who it was, she cleared her throat she had prepared for this, but she was still nervous.  "Hello, oh yes I do need some help with my homework how about we meet to discuss it and get to know each other at Bobby's Diner you know by the campus." Camille figured that the best approach would be to build up a rapport with the girl and Bobby's Diner would be a great place to start, it was a familiar place around campus as many students had gone there from time to time herself included, so being it was a familiar place, it would be a good place to gauge the girl without bringing up any red flags.

Okay, finally getting back to my writings. Sorry folks, but this one is not so much 'fap material' as some 'head space' stuff and bridging over some things to show how some of the relationship is evolving. I promise, there will be more 'exciting' things to come, so please don't quit this story just from this chapter alone. Chapter 54 I woke from my nap and rolled over. Several things came into my mind all at once. My diaper’s wet, my bottom is sore, and my peepee is trying to get hard. Mommy will fix the first… Mommy caused the second… and… and I’m the one that put my chastity cage on in the first place. I was laying on the changing-table / crib-bed in the playroom. I swung my feet over and stood. After rubbing my eyes a moment, I realized it must be late afternoon now. I stood up and waddled to the stack of diapers on the dresser. I picked up one and went in search of Mommy. I found her sitting at the end of the couch, legs curled up under herself, pillow over her tummy, tablet in her hand. When she saw me coming down the step she looked up and gave me a smile, “Hi princess. Did my baby girl have a nice nap?” I nodded but when I started to answer I realized my mouth was still filled with my new, oversized pacifier. All that came out was, “eth mmee.” She patted the cushion next to her so I waddled over and sat. She reached and gently patted my bare leg. I felt my face blush a little when her fingers gently tugged and straightened the frilly hem of the nightie she had put me in for my nap. Then she reached for the diaper in my hand asking, “Did you bring this to me because my baby girl tinkled in her dipee? Want Mommy to change you?” Again, I felt my face flush as I nodded. But at the same time, I felt a familiar twitch in my diaper. Her treating me like this, my peepee was waking up and was quickly finding the limits of its ‘little house’. She knew, Mommy always knew. But she just set the fresh diaper on the coffee table and looked at her tablet as she changed the subject, “Did you know… That after giving birth… having their new baby suckle helps a woman’s uterus contract? It’s true, some sort of connection. I think that’s why my cramps are so bad this month.” I felt another pang of guilt as I watched her hug that small throw pillow to her belly again. More discomfort for her… all because she’s doing something for me. I AM selfish. Maybe I shouldn’t even bring it up… I mean… Again, Mommy seemed to read my mind. Her hand gently patted my thigh as she spoke in a gentle voice, “It’s okay sweetie… I keep telling you, I’m doing this for me just as much as for you. I WANT to breastfeed my baby. When you nurse, I feel …. Not just sexy, nor domineering, but… but a bond with you. It’s something we have that is more than just physical.” I finally reached up and pulled my pacifier from my lips. I managed to whisper, “Can we… can we talk about things?” She tapped her tablet to turn it off and reached over to put it next to the clean diaper on the coffee table. Then she sat up a little, pillow still against her belly as she said, “Of course princess, what would you like to talk about?” I took a breath, “But first, promise me we can talk about things and I… I won’t get spanked for bringing it up.” She raised an eyebrow and I was worried. She could guess the subject I wanted to discuss. But she raised her hand and made a crisscross motion over her heart, “I promise, no matter what you want to talk about, no spanking, no teasing of any kind. Now… tell me what you want to talk about. It’s about your penis being locked up isn’t it.” I squirmed a little, but it helped to look out the window for a moment. I started, “Yes, that’s part of it. I know we agreed on… on how we do it. I… I put it on and you decide when it comes off.” I managed to turn back and look her in the eye as she sat patiently. So, I continued, “But is there some way that you could… Could give me some idea of how long it will be? I mean, if I know it’s going to be a couple of days, I can… you know, prepare myself for it. I’d know what to expect???” She looked at me for a moment, seemingly trying to decide. Then she took a breath, “Well, you don’t give me much warning when you put it on. I mean, yesterday morning, you just took a shower and locked it up. You didn’t consult me or anything. But… you want me to consult with you? Tell you what I think about it? Tell you on a spur of the moment what I’ll do when I happen to change your diaper and POOF!!... there’s no cock down there?” She was looking at me and I felt myself shrinking, in more ways than one. My peepee wasn’t at all stiff anymore, and I felt a twinge of shame again. She had a point, I don’t give her any warning or indication when I DO put it on, but I’m asking for her to warn me about when she would take it OFF. She was looking at me. But I didn’t know what to say at this point. She had a point. Then she reached and took my hand from my lap. She held it and gave it a squeeze as she said, “Tom darling, I spoke with Beth and she gave me the name of a therapist. I’m calling her tomorrow to make an appointment.” I blinked at her. But she gave my hand a squeeze and continued, “Tom, even I can tell, you lock yourself up when you feel guilty and ashamed of something you THINK you’ve done. Like yesterday when you thought you were responsible for my period. And the time before that when I came up the stairs and you were just standing naked in front of my vanity. Something must have upset you because you were just standing there, staring at your own locked up cock.” I whispered, “Yeah, I had brought up something about topping you and you reminded me not to bring that sort of thing up.” She nodded, remembering, “Ah yes. There was something. But I didn’t yell at you or tell you to put on your chastity cage now did I?” I shook my head, whispering, “No.” She tilted her head a little, “Is that what this is about? You want me to tell you? That’s not what our agreement was. Are you saying you want to change our agreement?” I thought about it. But I had had it spanked into me that Mommy decides when it comes off. I wasn’t sure just what I wanted. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I don’t know. I mean, I like when you decide things, but I just don’t know.” Mommy gave my hand a squeeze again. As always, Mommy came to a decision, “Okay, how about this. YOU still decide, but if you think you need to put it on, you come and talk to me first. Give me a little heads up; a sort of warning. And then I can give you an idea of how long I’ll keep it on you.” “How would that work?” I asked. She let go of my hand and patted my leg, “Something like, you come to me and say something like, ‘mommy I think my peepee should be locked away for a while’ and you tell me why. Then I’ll think it over and say something like, ‘No sweetie, you don’t need to do that today, you don’t deserve that’. Or, if you tell me why you feel that way and I agree, I might say, ‘Okay sweetie, if that’s how you feel, I think three days should be about right’.” She rubbed her hand on my thigh as she went on, “Then I’ll know when you’ll be locked and have an idea WHY you feel you need to do that. And, if I agree and understand, you’ll know for how long and can decide if you still want to lock yourself away. We’ll both have a say about when my favorite cock is not going to be available and for how long.” When I didn’t say anything, she straightened up a little and said, “Go ahead, let’s try it. Tell Mommy why you thought you needed to put your little house on yesterday… Go ahead… tell Mommy.” I felt myself blushing as I tried to look into her eyes and stammered, “M…Mommy?? I… I feel bad about… about you going through all this to breastfeed me. And… and I was too rough when we made love… I… I caused your period to start. So… So I think I should lock up my peepee.” She smiled, “Good job. And thank you for telling me how you feel.” Then she wiggled her hips a little and lifted her chin a little as she went on, “And for being totally honest with me, and a brave little boy, Mommy will let you wear your little house for a week. That’s how long my period usually lasts.” My eyes grew wide and my mouth fell open. “A WEEK!?!?!?! BUT…. BUT… I’VE NEVER WORN IT A WEEK!!!!!” She glared at me for a moment. Then retorted, “Well THAT’S how long I’m going to be wearing a pad!!” Then she shrugged and added, “Now, see? If you come talk to me BEFORE you put it on, you can decide if you’re willing to wear it for as long as I say. But this time, you’re stuck with a week.” Then she softened her voice, “Besides, I warned you before it could be that long… or even longer. But I think most times, it will only be a few days. And from now on, you’ll know before you click that little lock shut.” She reached for the diaper on the table and started to unfold it as she said, “Now, lay back for me and we’ll get your diaper changed.” I laid back and let her take care of her little one. … At dinner, I was back in my old chair. The highchair pushed to the corner where it was now kept when not in use. I helped clear the table as Mommy put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. As she stood up she turned to me and gave me a hug. Then she whispered, “I love you darling, now… Time I say goodbye to my little Tammy for a while, little Tommy needs to get ready for bed and work tomorrow.” With that she tugged my nightie up and over my head. Then just as quickly, she tugged at the tapes of my diaper, and I was standing naked in the middle of the kitchen. Well, except for a certain pink accessory. She gently turned me and gave my bare bottom a gentle slap as she ordered, “Off to the showers mister. Then it’s a diaper and onesie for you.” It wasn’t long and I was clean, dressed as she had said, and my head was resting in her lap. Her nursing bra was open and I was once again tasting the unique sweetness of her milk as she channel-surfed with the remote. With her warm breast against my lips, I was able to forget all my doubts and worries, she was ‘Mommy’ and we work things out together. --- --- --- I got to work a little early, I knew Mondays would often have some minor crisis. Little Tommy barely woke up last night when I nursed him. But this morning he fussed a little, I think his peepee wanted to get hard again but couldn’t. Maybe a week is too long…. But do I go back on my word now? Now that I think about things, *I* could use a therapist sometimes. Am I just enabling his self-destructive behavior? Should I be easing his guilt with punishments that he doesn’t really deserve? I found a few minutes mid-morning to make the call. I explained to her I was calling for my partner. She asked if I was a ‘mommy’, or if I was his ‘little girl’, or just what our relationship was and I told her the basics. She told me we should both come and she’d want to talk to both of us this first time. I agreed and noted the time she had available and told her we’d be there. When I got home, my darling little boy came to greet me. I noticed he wasn’t wearing the pants I put him in this morning, just a diaper and baby pants for bottoms. As we hugged, I reached and patted his padded bottom and asked, “Hope you didn’t lose your pants before your video call this morning? Care to tell me why you took them off?” I smiled as he blushed a little. Even after months of being my baby, you still blush. It’s one of the things I love about you baby… “I wore them until lunch. But then I was… I dunno, I just felt like not wearing pants today,” was his only explanation. I just let it go as I set my purse on the counter. I turned to him as I explained, “Okay, but tomorrow at three-thirty, you need to be ready to go out. I made our appointment with Crystal for four o’clock.” “Crystal??” I nodded and explained, “That’s the name of the therapist Beth recommended. I called her today and she had an opening tomorrow.” Poor thing, he looked nervous, maybe even a little frightened. I slipped my arm into his arm and kissed his cheek. I gave his arm a squeeze and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you. She said she’d like to talk with both of us at first.” “A woman?” I nodded, “Yes, she’s a woman. Would you rather talk to a male therapist? Talk to another guy about… your need to be diapered and spanked often? Your wanting to lock away your peepee?” I knew the answer before I even asked, but I wanted him to think it through. His face paled a little as he stammered, “N…n..no… a lady therapist is… is fine I guess.” Beth was right. She had told me that most ‘littles’ open up more easily with a woman than a guy. Most, but not all… I quickly changed the subject by asking about dinner. I thought it best not to dwell on tomorrow too much. --- --- --- When Mommy went to answer the door for the pizza delivery, I went to the kitchen to get the plates and silverware. We sat and munched for a minute. Then in the quiet, I realized something. Tomorrow, going to talk to that Crystal woman, I’d be wearing both… a diaper and my little house. The thought had me stop with a slice of pizza halfway to my mouth. Mommy noticed and looked at me for a minute. I whispered, “Do you think… do you think I could be let out before we go see her?” Mommy reached for another slice. Her response was to ask me a question, “What do you think? Should I go back on my word when I told you a week?” I gulped and felt my face turn red. I whispered again, “No… I guess not. She’s going to want to talk about it either way.” Mommy nodded as she chewed. Once she swallowed she said, “Yeah, that’s kind of the point now isn’t it? Do you want me to come home even earlier? Warm that bottom of yours so you can talk to her about your need for spankings as well?” I felt my face pale and a spurt of pee splash into my diaper. She paused and grinned at me, then added, “No? Okay then. But darling, Beth told me, it’s best not to hold back. Crystal has heard it all before, she’s experienced with folks like us and won’t be shocked. Won’t judge us for who we are.” I thought for a minute. Then something occurred to me. But if I brought it up, it might cost me a paddling tonight, not tomorrow. But I decided to risk it, “Does that mean you’ll talk to her about your… your switching once in a while? Wanting the lord of the manor to… you know.” Her eyes flashed for a moment, and I tried to steel myself for another spanking as she glared at me. But then she slowly put down the pizza slice she was holding and whispered, “Maybe… it’s not… it’s not going to be easy for either of us at times.” … Mommy changed the subject. Not wanting to talk about tomorrow, she asked about my day. After dinner, we settled into our routine. She changed my diaper and we settled on the couch. I noticed that she was producing more milk now. Between her two breasts I must be getting five or so ounces each nursing now. … Somehow, I was suddenly standing in the middle of the room. For some reason I looked down, a maid was cleaning the floor near my feet, a broken dish on a tray by her knee. Then I heard a voice, “Well?” I turned to it and it was Miss Beth. She was staring at me with a furrowed brow. Next to her was two other women, Miss Sarah and someone else. Miss Beth repeated herself, “Well Tommy? What do you have to say for yourself?” I looked down again as the maid started to stand up, she looked towards Miss Beth, curtseyed, and said, “I’ll mop the entire floor in the morning Mistress…” Then I heard Mommy’s voice. I spun around and she was standing there, dressed up in a cocktail dress, her gorgeous hair neatly brushed, a pearl neckless and black high-heeled shoes; as if… as if this was one of Miss Beth’s parties. She held up her right hand, it had a paddle in it as she spoke, “Tommy? I said you can have twenty-five swats? Or….” She lowered her right hand and raised her left. It held a chastity cage. It looked like my own pink one, but shone of stainless steel as she continued, “Or… seven days in this. Which will it be Tommy?” My head twisted about. Miss Beth was smirking at me; Miss Sarah had a sort of sympathetic look. Other faces I didn’t know, staring, all waiting for me to… to choose my own punishment. I flooded my diaper and someone laughed. I cried out… “MOMMY!!! MOMMY PLEASE!!!!” My eyes shot open, awake. Mommy was holding me and whispering, “Shh shh… it’s just a dream… I’m right here…” Suddenly the alarm clock went off, and Mommy reached to shut it off. She sat up a little and opened her nightgown. As she lifted her breast out towards me, she whispered, “Here sweetie, time for your morning milkies… I’m right here… it was just a dream…” I latched on and closed my eyes. I gently nodded as I suckled. The act of nursing calming me down. My hand reached and checked though. It was just a dream… but my diaper is soaked. That part was real… … As Mommy ate breakfast, I sat across from her, holding a cup of coffee. My diaper was changed now, and I was dressed for the day. “…it was something I did. Dropped a dish or something and I… I had to decide how you would punish me. A paddling, or days locked in a chastity cage.” Mommy was munching and took a moment to answer, “I don’t think a broken dish is worthy of THAT sort of punishment. You should know that. Can I ask… which did you choose?” I shook my head, “Neither. I wet myself and woke up before deciding.” Mommy downed the last of her own coffee and looked at me, “tough choice though huh? Short term but intense pain, or long-term denial of your favorite toy.” She stood up and carried her dishes to the sink and started to rinse them. She spoke a little louder over the running water, “Well, don’t forget about this afternoon. Maybe Crystal can help. At least with your bad dreams.” She picked up a dish towel and wiped her hands as she walked back around to give me a kiss on the head. She rubbed my shoulder and said, “At least this time you didn’t sit bolt upright, screaming.” I nodded and reached for her hand, holding it for a moment. I agreed, “Yeah, and it’s a good thing I’m in diapers now, would have ruined the mattress.” … She went off to work and I did my best to block it from my mind and get to work. That worked for a while, but at lunch, as I stood over the kitchen sink eating a sandwich, the upcoming appointment loomed larger and larger in my mind. I… I’ll have to tell her about everything. How I… I DO sometimes feel like I deserve a spanking. How I feel safer in my diapers now. When I get upset or scared I find myself…  Everything? Maybe not EVERYTHING. I don’t need to tell her about the chastity thing. Or that time Beth made me… poop. Or the time Mommy… Sigh… how I call her ‘Mommy’… not Carole… I heard my phone chirping upstairs. I went back up to see a message from a coworker and tried to concentrate on their issue. … I must have missed the door opening, the first hint that Mommy was home was when she started to call out to me as she came up the stairs, “All ready to go? Have you logged out yet?” I jerked around in time to see her walking in the doorway of my ‘office’ room. Her car keys still in her hand. I gulped a little, turned back and clicked the necessary button. As I stood up, she came closer and without hesitation, put her hand between my legs, asking, “How’s your diaper?” I didn’t really need to say much, her expert hand gave it a squeeze and she simply said, “Not too bad… it’ll hold for now. Besides, we don’t really have time for a change. Be a dear and get your diaper bag from the front hall closet while I make a quick trip to the bathroom.” She gets to go… oh, maybe because of her period still… But this means I’ll be meeting this Crystal woman… in a wet diaper. I did as Mommy had asked, and soon we were on our way. … We got to some office building, not very high, only about three floors. Mommy paused at the directory in the lobby. I glanced over it as well. Some lawyers, accountants, other names with letters after their names. “Cyrstal Bartow, MSW, second floor, 2A,” Mommy announced. She reached for my hand and we soon found the correct door. Mommy knocked and in we went. A lady that looked in her fifties, wearing a rather loose wrapping dress was sitting at a small desk with a computer. She looked up and said, “You must be Carole and Tom… I’ll be right with you, I let my receptionist go early today.” I stood with Mommy for a few seconds while the woman typed something and then used the mouse to click a couple things. I gripped Mommy’s hand nervously as I clenched down to stop a trickle of pee that had started. The lady stood and came around to shake each of our hands in turn, introducing herself as Crystal. Then she explained, “Being your first visit, what I like to do is talk with each of you privately for a few minutes, then together. Carole, I’ll start with you, ladies first and all.” She gestured to another open doorway and then smiled at me, “Tom, you can have a seat out here, sorry my magazine selection isn’t much, or maybe if you’re allowed to play on your phone??” She didn’t wait for an answer as she followed Mommy and closed the door behind herself. What was that crack? ‘Allowed to play on my phone’ ??? What did that mean, why wouldn’t I be…. Oh wait… did Mommy tell her I’m the ‘little one’ in this and… and Mommy might have rules about… I suddenly was feeling anxious, and even a little scared. I know Mommy is right in there, but I have to wait. But right now I…. before I realized it, I was sucking my thumb. Mommy had carried the diaper bag and… and my pacifier was in there. With my thumb in my mouth, I started looking around. Some women’s magazines, some sort of yacht sailing one. A print of some abstract art thing on the wall. Where have I seen that before… It looks familiar… That time Mommy took me to the art museum? My other hand reached between my legs and cupped my crotch. Although my peepee was still safely put away in its little house, it brought me some small comfort to hold my crotch as I sucked my thumb. And waited. And waited… Suddenly I heard the latch of the door and it opened just an inch or so. As soon as I saw the door start to open, my hands flew away and I reached for the first magazine I could get. Luckily, or on purpose, the door paused there as I heard Crystal’s voice, “Okay Carole, I think I should have a chat with him now.” The door then swung open fully and Crystal held the knob while Mommy came out. She gave me a big smile and said, “Your turn sugarplum… Now go have a nice talk with Crystal.” I stood and started for the door. Crystal looked at me and nodded, “Tom, if you don’t mind, leave the magazine out there.” I blinked and realized I was still holding it and turned to put it back. It was only then that I noticed the cover and hoped neither of them would question why I was reading ‘Ladies Home Journal’. Crystal gestured towards a sofa, “Have a seat, Tom.” I did and then looked at her and admitted, “I’ve never seen a therapist before. How do we get started? Do you want to hear about my childhood? Whether my dad beat me or if I was traumatized by a chicken when I was three?” She smiled and giggled a little, “Not unless you want to tell me. Were you traumatized by a chicken?” I shook my head, “No, but like I said… I… I’m not sure where to start.” She nodded a little and picked up a pad of paper and pen. Then she said, “Well then, how about I start. I spoke with your partner and she… well she was quite open. A bit of fresh air if you will.” I looked at her but said nothing, so she went on, “Lots of my clients, take a while to open up about… their fetishes and private lives. It’s not always easy for them to open up to strangers.” I nodded and muttered, “Yeah, I can imagine. I’m not sure how much I can.. can really come out and tell you at this point.” She looked down at the pad she had in her lap. She took a breath, “Well… this is what Carole told me. If she got any of this wrong, stop me.” Her pen bounced from line to line as she read, “Met about four months ago.” “Put you in panties and you just let her, without protesting at all.” “Switched you to diapers when you kept, as she put it, ‘making ickies’ in your panties.” I felt my face turning bright red. Did Mommy really have to tell her all …. She went on, her pen tapping each item, “Started wetting your diapers.” “Masturbate in them frequently, or dry-humping against her.” “Call her Mommy now, not Carole.” “Had an adventure at Miss Elizabeth’s Day Care” “Cry easily when spanked.” “Seem to sometimes do things on purpose, so you’ll GET spanked.” She paused long enough to turn over the top sheet of paper, then continued reading, “Have been exploring gender roles, including dresses, baby girl outfits.” “Experimenting with anal toys…” “And finally, bought your own chastity cage and put it on a few times, without any input from Carole on the subject.” She looked up from her pad and finished with, “And now you’re having scary dreams that seem related to gender confusion and needing to be punished for your behavior.” She paused. I was staring in my lap. After a good solid two minutes of silence, “Tom? Is there anything I missed? Was any of that not true?” Sigh… no… it’s all true. But to hear her list it off so…. So clinically… Here voice was soft and quiet as she said, “Tom, I need you to be an adult when we talk. You need to remember I’m here to try and help you.” I took a deep breath and let it out. At least she didn’t say I needed to be a ‘big boy’, or some other words that would make me feel small…. I looked over at the far wall and added, “Did she tell you about the highchair? That she’s locked me in it a couple of times. And that she’s started producing breast milk and nursing me three or four times a day.” She flipped a page of her notepad and scribbled some notes. I found myself staring intently at the framed print on the wall. She put down her tablet and sat back for a moment. Then she spoke again, “Tom, nothing in all of that is new to me, or anything I’ve not heard before. You’re not the only person in the world with feelings and cravings that are different from what society taught you growing up.” Then she cut right to the chase, “Tom? Have you ever had thoughts about hurting yourself, or even… suicide?” “No! I… I’m not crazy!” I blurted out. She nodded, “Of course you’re not. Nobody is. But I have to know if you’re a danger to yourself.” She paused and went on, “But you do seem to feel guilty about some aspects of your life with Carole. That maybe you’re enjoying things that you think maybe you shouldn’t? Why do you suppose that is?” A different sort of floodgate opened. Not the one in my diaper, but from my heart. I spoke about all the things Mommy does for me and how I felt guilty about not doing enough in return. Confusion about whether I was even a man or… or a child. Even worse, a helpless little GIRL!!! About how much sexual relief I was getting and maybe not giving enough to Mommy in return. At times I cried some and she handed me a box of tissues while she made a few more notes. We spoke a little about my own mom, and when she met Carole. Finally, she looked at her phone and said, “Okay Tom, I think we need to stop for now and we can bring Carole back in.” She stood and opened the door. Mommy came in and sat next to me while Crystal retook her own seat. “Okay…. I think it’s safe to say that Tom… you do have some issues you need to work out. I’d like to see you about once a week for a while, if you agree to that. And Carole, we can talk a little during his sessions if you want to share anything.” I muttered, “So I am crazy…” Crystal shook her head and replied, “Tsk… no, you’re not. You just have a few things that… well maybe we can work out some things.” Mommy spoke up, “In the meantime, should we… should we maybe stop… stop some of the things?” Crystal shook her head, “No, just don’t go too far. If Tom needs a spanking, don’t start using a whip. And Tom? If you need to lock up your penis, fine. But don’t go out and get some piercing for a more permanent chastity device or any other sort of mutilation just now.” She added, “I’m just not sure you’re in the right frame of mind to make any… ‘permanent’ decisions.” I flinched, my hand reaching for my crotch when she mentioned ‘piercing’. Mommy asked, “What about the nightmares? What should I do if he wakes up screaming for me again?” Crystal tilted her head a little, “Well, do what you have done. Hold him, calm him down, reassure him. I think we’ll be able to work on them, but until they pass, just let him know you love him and you’re there for him.” I felt Mommy squeezing my hand, so I squeezed back. Crystal stood up and went to the door. She paused and said, “Now, I’ll go figure out your bill and leave you two alone for a minute. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a dry diaper in that bag of yours and Tom could use a change.” With that, she closed the door behind her. Mommy’s arms gave me a hug and said softly, “You did great. We’re in this together.” When she let go, her hand reached to my crotch and squeezed. She remarked, “Oh yeah… definitely. Lay back for me and we’ll take care of that. Then we can go out for dinner.” To Be Continued