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AARDVARK, PLATYPUS, AND TWINKLETOES: ATTORNEYS AT LAW, SCENE 32: WELCOME ABOARD, BRENDA LEE 1 2 3 4 17
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Interesting chapter. Looking forward to seeing how the “play date” unfolds. -
I owe a large part of me , being able to , be married , and in diapers , due to my loving and caring , wife ! When I first became IC , my wife was the one , who went out , and bought me attends diapers , and changed me , very lovingly , and didn’t bust my balls about , pooping and wetting myself ! No had that happened , I think , I would just put a gun , in my mouth ! But she made me feel special , and showed me , how much she loved , and wanted , and needed me , wet , dirty or not ! And after a few months , I found diapers rather soothing , and I just started to change myself , and did all of my laundry ! She never complained , after I was soaked and stinky , but always made me feel really loved , and over the first 3-4 months , I found meds , so I didn’t stink like a naughty toddler , and different diapers , so they didn’t , just fall apart and leak , and she never made me feel bad , after I made a noisy mess in my diaper , before I could get up and leave the room , no she just used humor , to not make me feel bad ! That was back in the mid 2018 , and even though I m still in diapers , she still loves me , and just makes light of my situation , cracking snide remarks , as I have an accident sitting right next to her , before I can get up ! No , my wife is a keeper , my closest friend , my lover , my partner for life ! We took a test out of some article in a magazine, the other day , about how close and happy we were with each other, 24 questions , we both got 23.5 questions , right , with out thinking too hard , and we laughed and kissed and hugged because we was almost a perfect score ! Way above normal ! NO , WE ARE A TEAM , HER AND I , TILL DEATH DO WE PART , and we have been married 24 yrs in June , and she was married once and myself was married 3 times before her , we never fight , nor go to bed sore at one another , all the other , things I had married , were like great for the first yr, then hated each others guts , until we called it quits , yeah we might have , both liked , fuckin each others brains out , off and on , but aside from that , I didn’t really like them , nor they did me ! But my love , my wife of today , I can no longer have sex , but we still act like , kids , kissing , hugging ,fondling ,smiling and laughing with each other , every single day , never a dull moment , sure , we gripe at each other every once in a great while , but it ALWAYS ends with hugs, and kisses , and a little groping ,and I am wearing diapers , 72 yrs. old and she’s just 8 yrs.my junior! I call that a very happy marriage ! 😎now and forever ! -
I love the feeling of using a diaper. I’ve only worn a few times now but I love the sense of relief. The moment when you know you can just let it go. When the Lee turns from a trickle into a full on wetting. I also like the feeling of the diaper expanding and slowly pushing your legs apart making you waddle a bit. -
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By Bel George · Posted
Chapter 13, The Final Day Rain tapped gently at the windows. Soft, steady, rhythmic. It had started sometime in the early hours, and now the whole cottage was wrapped in its hush. Emily reached over and gave my knee a light squeeze under the breakfast table. “Finish your bottle, sweetheart.” I tilted it back, the rubber nipple already warm and soft between my lips. Vanilla milk again. Sweet and soothing. My third bottle since waking. My diaper, already a little puffy, pressed against the seat of the kitchen chair, not uncomfortable, just present. Tessa walked past humming, her hair pulled back in a loose braid, a soft towel draped over one shoulder. “Bath’s ready.” I blinked. Emily stood and took my hand. “Come on, love. One last clean start before your final day.” The bathroom was fogged with steam and smelled faintly of lavender. The tub was already filled, the water just right. Warm and shallow, a fluffy towel spread across the far end like a headrest. They undressed me without ceremony. Shirt over my head, tapes peeled with care, diaper rolled up and set aside in a small bin. Emily helped me step in. Tessa knelt at the side with a washcloth already soaped and ready. The water lapped quietly against the porcelain as they bathed me in silence. Emily pouring water over my shoulders and hair with a plastic cup, Tessa rubbing gentle circles along my back, chest, arms. “You’ve been so good for us,” Emily said quietly. I didn’t answer. Tessa shampooed my hair while humming softly under her breath, then held the bottle of soap toward Emily. “He smells like a baby already, but let’s make sure.” After the bath, they guided me into the special room. Soft towels still clinging to my back, the scent of soap clinging to my skin. The hospital bed was still made neatly, its bars folded down. But in front of the low TV, something new had been set up. A padded potty chair. Sturdy white frame. Wide plastic seat. Padded lid. And beneath it, the removable basin sat already in place. Emily noticed me staring and gave a soft smile. “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s just somewhere comfy to sit while you watch your show.” Tessa unfolded a blanket and set it beside the chair. “You’ve been wrapped in diapers all week. Let’s give that little bottom some air.” I hesitated. Emily didn’t. She helped me step out of the towel, leaving me naked from the waist down. Then she draped the blanket across my shoulders like a cape and guided me backward until my thighs met the edge of the seat. “There,” she said gently. “No pressure. Just relax.” A cartoon was already playing. Gentle colors, soft music, a slow rhythm of talking animals and lulling background sounds. Tessa placed a bottle of warm milk into my hands. Emily kissed the top of my damp hair. “We’ll come check on you in a bit.” And they left me there, bare-bottomed, blanket draped around my shoulders, bottle resting in my lap, legs slightly parted over the soft seat. At first I was tense. But the warmth of the milk, the rhythm of the cartoon, the humid lull of the bath still clinging to my skin… it all worked against me. My body softened. My breathing slowed. And slowly, without fanfare, without effort, my bladder released. There was no decision. Just the faint warmth as a small stream trickled into the basin below. A soft hiss. A tiny splash. I blinked. But didn’t move. The cartoon kept playing. I didn’t even realize when the second wave came, lower, thicker, more urgent. My stomach fluttered, and I shifted slightly on the seat. The pressure swelled, then eased in one long, involuntary moment. It was over almost before I’d realized it had started. I was still sitting there, wide-eyed and flushed, when the door creaked open. Tessa stepped inside, pausing in the doorway. Then grinned. “Well, look at that,” she said, walking over. “It worked just like it was supposed to.” Emily followed, carrying a fresh diaper and wipes, and let out a quiet laugh as she peeked inside the potty chair’s basin. “You didn’t even notice, did you?” I shook my head, ashamed, confused… but a little dazed. Tessa reached for my hand and guided me upright. “Let’s get our little guy cleaned up.” I didn’t argue. Tessa held my hand gently as Emily wiped me clean. Quick, practiced strokes that felt as normal now as brushing my teeth. I stood quietly, the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders, bare from the waist down. The seat of the potty chair was still warm behind me. I didn’t look at it. Emily reached for the thick diaper she’d brought with her, already unfolded, already powdered. She spread a towel on the bed’s edge and patted it once. “Up you go, baby.” I didn’t protest. I let her guide me down, the towel cool under my bare skin. The fresh diaper crinkled as she tucked it beneath me, pulling the front high over my stomach and taping it snug. Tessa stood nearby with the bottle cap twisted off a second bottle, shaking it gently to mix the milk. Emily patted the front of the diaper and helped me sit up. I reached for the bottle without being told. Emily climbed up beside me just long enough to help me crawl under the blanket. Tessa leaned in and tucked it in around my legs, brushing a hand along the top of my head. “We figured you might need some help staying nice and still,” she said sweetly. “You always nap better when you’re safe.” Emily nodded. “We’ve been so proud of how well you’ve done this week. You’ve earned a proper nap today.” I looked between them. Neither was teasing. They meant it. The bottle returned to my hands. My thumb brushed the rubber nipple. The pacifier was waiting on the pillow. And then, slowly, I lay back. Emily raised the final section of the bed rail with a soft click. With the bedside rails raised, both of them, the hospital-style bed no longer looked like a bed at all. It looked like a crib. Tessa adjusted the edge of the blanket. And together, they stepped back and looked down at me, smiling like I was exactly where I belonged. And I fell asleep in my crib, diapered, dressed, and pacified, without a single protest. Later… I woke slowly. The rain had stopped. The cottage was quiet. The cartoon had ended. In its place, I could hear gentle conversation from the kitchen, a clinking of plates, the low hum of the kettle. I shifted under the blanket. The diaper was warm. Heavy. Wet again. I hadn’t remembered doing it. I hadn’t even dreamed. Just soft sleep. And now the thick squish beneath me. The rails were still up. Still high. Still closed. I reached down slowly, fingers brushing the puffy curve of the padding beneath the blanket, and exhaled. Not dry. Not clean. But not upset either. Not anymore. This… was normal now. Or at least, normal here. The door creaked open. Emily entered first, a warm smile on her lips. Tessa followed, carrying a folded set of pajamas. “You’re awake,” Emily said softly, crossing to the bed. Tessa leaned on the rail and gave the front of my diaper a light pat. “Still a heavy wetter, I see.” I flushed. But didn’t argue. Emily lowered the rail and helped me sit up. She unzipped the gray sleeper I’d worn earlier and slid it down to my thighs. The smell of powder and wetness rose with it. She worked slowly, gently, like I was fragile, her eyes full of warmth and calm. Tessa set the fresh diaper on the mattress. “One last change before dinner.” I lay back, arms folded across my chest, as the tapes peeled away again. The air was cool. The wipe was colder. But the routine was familiar, comforting. Afterward, they dressed me in something softer than before. A pale blue t-shirt, slightly short, and nothing else. The fresh diaper puffed below it, warm and dry. My legs stayed bare, and neither of them made any move to offer pants. Emily handed me another bottle. This one filled with something faintly fruity and cool. “Dinner soon,” she said, ruffling my hair. “But you’ve earned a little treat first.” We sat on the couch after that. Me between them, my head resting on Emily’s shoulder, Tessa’s hand absently stroking my thigh through the padding as she scrolled on her phone. They didn’t talk much. Didn’t tease. Just… sat with me. Together. Dinner was easy. Macaroni, vegetables, slices of peach. They fed me small spoonfuls, laughing quietly together about something on Tessa’s screen. I barely noticed what it was. I was too sleepy, too warm, too full from the bottle to care. They took more photos. I didn’t flinch, didn’t hide. Emily wiped my mouth gently with a napkin and kissed my temple. When bedtime came, they brought me back to the special room. The crib was made again. Fresh sheets, folded blanket, the pacifier already on the pillow. They didn’t change my diaper. They just tucked me in. Emily smoothed my hair with her fingertips. “This was a really special week,” she whispered. Tessa leaned over the side and added, “You’ve come such a long way, baby boy.” Neither of them asked if I wanted to stop. Neither of them said it was over. And I didn’t ask, either. Because for the first time… I didn’t want it to end. Chapter 14, Going Home The car was packed in the quiet, gray morning after the rain. Emily buckled me into the backseat while Tessa double-checked the locks and lights in the cottage. I wore jeans now. Soft, loose, the waistband just high enough to hide what was beneath. A diaper, of course. Thick enough for the drive home. No plastic pants. Just a soft onesie under the shirt to keep everything in place. I hadn’t asked for anything else. They hadn’t offered. Emily rode beside me in the backseat. Her fingers laced gently with mine. A bottle sat in the side pocket of my bag. A folded changing mat was zipped into the outer pouch. Wipes, powder, two clean diapers. Just in case. Tessa glanced at us in the rearview mirror and smiled. “Everyone ready?” I nodded. “Home we go.” The road curved down through the forest, past the lake, and into the valley beyond. We didn’t speak much. The quiet between us wasn’t tense. An hour in, I wet without thinking. Emily noticed, of course. She rested her hand gently on my thigh, gave it a squeeze, then passed me the bottle without a word. I drank. Tessa turned the music up just a little. Epilogue -- One Year Later The wine glasses clinked gently on the coffee table. The summer light streamed through the window of Tessa’s apartment, casting long, warm shadows over the wood floor. Emily and I sat on the couch, legs curled together, laughter still fading from our last story. Tessa returned from the kitchen with a small plate of cheese and a half-smile. “I still can’t believe,” she said, “you actually carried your own used diaper through a public trail. In full view.” “Hey,” I shot back, “you’re the one who started it by saying you nearly wet your underwear.” Emily giggled. Tessa raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say nearly.” I blinked. She walked slowly to the middle of the room, set down the plate, then turned toward me with a lazy grin. “Well, it was your idea, remember?” she said, slipping her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt. “What was?” Emily asked, suddenly grinning. Tessa didn’t answer. Instead, she peeled her skirt up, smooth and deliberate, just far enough to reveal the white waistband of a thick diaper beneath. Taped, snug, unmistakable. “I took your advice this year,” she said, giving the front a gentle pat. “No risks. No leaks. No surprises.” Emily burst out laughing. I stared. Tessa smirked. “So… what are you packing for this weekend?”
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