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Mary Had A Little Lamb

DVD series

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#1 Boston Baby

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 10:19 AM

Mary Had a Little Lamb


My office message light was blinking when I returned to the office; I punched in my code, and my boss’ voice came on.

“When you get in, come see me, I’ve got a lead for you.”

I tallied up a couple orders, submitted them for credit approval, handed in some copy instructions to the production team and headed for Frank’s office.

“Whatcha got….? New car dealer want to spend 10k a month?”

“I don’t know actually, this was called in and the lady asked for you specifically.” And he handed me the paper with his notes on it: Jessica Redenbacher, her phone number, and semi-vague listings of “male or female, and stress reduction.”

I started to ask questions, but his cell rang, and he waved me off. I walked back to my office and sat. Call-in leads to a radio station are like scratch tickets – usually a losing venture – but you never know. Jessica Redenbacher? I pondered the name, thought “popcorn” and sighed – picked up the company phone and dialed her number.

“Hello?”
A bit of hub-bub of noise was muted but noticeable through the phone.
“Jessica? This is Steve Anderson, from W_ _ _ Radio, I understand you asked to speak with me?”
“Well yes! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, and excuse the noise, let me get to my office.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Marshall’s here at the Mall…..I’m the manager…. There that’s better.”

She only hinted at what she wished to market, and we set up a time to meet at the store, before she began her day at ten.

I wrapped up my day, got presentation / first-time info together for our meeting in the morning, headed out to the 99 Restaurant for a few drinks with co-workers, and that was that.

Thursday broke cold and close to snow; I dressed a little sharper than usual, since I was meeting a lady who DID ask for me personally, and headed over to Marshall’s and went in through the back-bay doors as instructed.

Jessica was in her office, I knocked and we met.

I’d love to say she was 6’ tall, and a lingerie model.

She wasn’t; Jess was about 5’5” with green / hazel eyes and brown hair, nice “rack” in front, but her body was well on its way to plump; when she smiled broadly it was easily spotted that a molar part-way-back on the right side of her mouth was missing.

“Hello! Thank you for coming, would you like some coffee?”
“Sure,” and we walked to a small kitchen area, where the K-cups and coffee materials were found.

“What did you wish to advertise?”

“My dad gave me a pretty-good sized check for my 30th birthday and told me to “do something with my life.” So, for almost the past two-years, I’ve been working on my Masters at night, for Clinical Psychology and have come up with a Series of three Relaxation DVD’s as part of my graduation project.”

I groaned (silently) – I was correct – this was going to be a waste of time; maybe I can talk her out of it.

“Many national companies are way ahead of you on that scale,” I sipped my coffee as we walked back, “the amount of money you would need to invest to own a top-tier share of the mind is semi-staggering.”

She nodded. “How much?”

Oh Christ – decision time – local-direct clients reward me with the HIGHEST commission rate, but also take up a LOT of time – which is usually much better spent hunting down car dealers… “For an adequate share of the market in morning and afternoon drive you’d be looking at around $4,900 a week, for a minimum of sixteen weeks.”

“Can you bill me weekly?”

W-T-F……….? This Jessica-lady wants to plunk down around $75,000 to sell a DVD? “What is the name of this series?”

“I haven’t named the series yet – but Mary Had a Little Lamb is the first DVD.”

“You’re kidding me.” She nodded no.
“The second one?”
“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”
I stared at her. “You’re still not kidding are you…” She again nodded no, and continued to look at me.

“And the third – is what? Three Blind Mice?”

She smiled that one-tooth-missing-grin, and said “it’s called “Old McDonald Had a Farm.”

“Has anyone used this, so I can I create a testimonial ad, and bring you business that way?” She nodded no again.

“You want to spend five grand a week, to market a Relaxation CD-Series which you have not named yet – but whose DVD’s are called Mary Had a Little Lamb, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Old McDonald, which no one yet has tested, in February when the “resolution-solution ads” have already begun massive well-funded campaigns as of Jan one..??!

This time she nodded yes.

I know sales reps are supposed to just take the money and run – but I had to ask: “Why?”

“My Dad was right – I should do something with my life, and being the manager at a Marshall’s clothing store my age isn’t it. So the degree and the DVD-success will start my climb.”

“Ooookay…” So I got out the paperwork, we put together the campaign from February thru May, got a credit card number, and made an appointment to go over the copy facts with her at a later time since it was getting toward ten a.m.

“Do you have a copy of the CD so I can listen to it, and take pieces off of it to create a :60 commercial?”

“I do – but the Master is at the house, and can only be listened to there; I cannot possible risk losing it.”

“Jess, I really don’t like to do that – I don’t know you, and you don’t know me – and it’s not a good situation for a sales person to be in.”

“I won’t be at home, and the player and disc is in the basement. You’ll be alone, and when you have enough info, just call me, and I’ll come back to lock up.” Against my better judgment I said “okay” and, I took the address and agreed to meet up with her tomorrow morning at 8:00 in Lincoln.

“If this credit card doesn’t go thru, I will need cash.” She nodded, and I went back to the station counting up my ten percent(!!!) commission on the $78,400 order I just signed.

The credit card went thru and my day was very grand indeed. KA-ching.

Her house was a one-story with an almost finished basement where a new recliner and new sofa, still covered in plastic faced an okay sized older TV; the carpet looked and smelled new, and two doors and an open entry way interrupted the sheet rocked walls. The drop-ceiling looked new, and the painting was about two-thirds done. Against one wall was a table with Diet Pepsi bottles, and a partially finished jigsaw puzzle. The DVD and the case, and the remote controls were on the coffee table in front of me, along with a pair of earphones.

“Didn’t know I needed to bring my cans,” and I grinned.

“Cans?”

I pointed at the headset – “in my business, we call those “cans” and every jock has his or her own set; I used to be on air, back in the day.”

She smiled, and nodded, “I remember.”

I stopped – and looked. She nodded again, and smiled, “you were great.”

Pause. “Unless you worked the third shift, or a kook, you should have been asleep – like ninety percent of the city was.” I unpacked; pen, notebook, snack, lap-top and cell phone, removed my coat and looked at her.

She jotted down her phone number on my notebook and said, “Call me if you need anything, and please let me know when you are finished.”

I nodded, and with that she walked upstairs, closed the door and was then gone.

I flipped the DVD cover around, and it was nothing earth-shattering; no notes, no reviews, no comments, just Mary Had a Little Lamb, 37 Minutes, and Relaxation for mind and body.

One hour tops…and I’m outta here.

I put on the DVD player, walked over to the unit, put in the disc, walked back to the sofa, brushed some dust and paint chips off the plastic cover, sat down, hit play, put on the cans, picked up paper and pen, and waited.

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and … The screen came on and the song continued, and I watched, and listened.

The clock on the player said 8:49am; my paper was blank, and the pen was still in my right hand, and the sofa was warm from my body heat when I woke up.

What the hell? This tape is soooo boring that I dozed off? Shit – this isn’t going to be a winning ad at all…

I sat forward on the sofa, jotted down Mary had a little lamb?… stopped writing, hit play again, and looked at the screen and looked for copy points…and the song began again… Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and…

It was now 9:34; I rubbed my lips, took off the headphones and looked at my notebook – nothing except the lyrics and the word which looked like “water.” Disgusted I walked over to the table, took a Diet Pepsi, unscrewed it, (lots of caffeine maybe??) and shook my head.

I went to my cell, answered the two calls that had come in since eight a.m., and sat back down with a grumble.

Got everything set again, put the Pepsi in my left hand took a big swig, swallowed, looked at the pad of paper on the table, leaned over the pad, hit play and con-cen-trated…

At 10:29 the Pepsi bottle had dribbled on the carpet a bit, my lips were again wet, I got up, put the bottle down, wiped my cheek, and made my way to the three doors to look for a bathroom.

Door one was a furnace room with boxes, bags, and water heater too. The open doorway led into good sized room housing a washer/dryer with a laundry rack, table, lamp, and a deep whicker chair one would see on a nice patio; next to it were sewing stuff, knitting needles and yarn in a basket, on the opposite wall was a door (for this room?) on sawhorses being painted, its hardware removed; the wash room was brightened by the light streaming in from the little basement window. The third door was a bathroom in mid-plumb, and thus unfortunately not ready to use. I groaned, went back out into the basement, up the stairs and……the door at the top of the stairs wasn’t locked – but it didn’t open. It was if something had come loose inside of it, and the knob just turned and turned and turned.

S - - T!! Now what???

I went back downstairs and looked for something to pee in??!! The washroom turned up nothing but a stack of towels and various detergents, and cleaning products. No buckets, not even in the furnace room. Maybe the Pepsi bottle? Unfortunately I had to drink the entire Pepsi bottle before filling it back up again…. So I did that, and on my knees, squirting carefully into a 20-ounce plastic container, holding the head of my penis up against the bottle spout, while kneeling over a towel, I filled the bottle back up……and then it was full, but I wasn’t empty.….

I put kept my right hand on my dick to clench of the flow of urine, and gently put the bottle on the table; sighed, and knowing what-I-had-to-do-but-couldn’t-believe-I-had-to-do, I picked up the towel and began to pee into that. When I had slowly wet the towel and drained myself, I put the towel on the corner of washer, got the cap to the Pepsi bottle and sealed it, and looked for a place to hide the full bottle. I found an old Stop and Shop plastic grocery bag in the furnace room, and put the bottle in that and put the bag next to the sofa to take home with me when I was through.

I still didn’t know how to tell a client that I wet her towel.

I looked at the DVD Case which sat on the coffee table – and in my mind - mocking me. It was about 10:50… I walked around the room… grabbed another Diet Pepsi, and answered a phone message that had beeped in on my cell, plus responded to two texts, and checked my e-mail on my phone. Why boot up the computer – nothing to freakin’ write yet…

The second bottle was half drained – my stomach growled and I was upset I had only brought a snack, I should have been gone by now. I debated calling Jess, but didn’t wish to admit defeat, or question my stamina. I put the cans back on, and hit play. At 11:46 I realized I was sitting on the couch, my lips were wet, and so was my chin.

At 12:39 I was sucking on my pen. And my bladder was pushing a bit again. I took the pen out of my mouth, and stared at it, clipped it to my shirt pocket. Ripped off the earphones, turned off the DVD player, and stared at the almost empty notebook paper in front of me. I wasn’t relaxed – I was kinda frustrated with my abilities.
I finished the soda, and then went thru the steps again, except this time when I unzipped my fly kneeling over a new towel, and before grabbing the empty bottle I noticed something different.

I was erect.

Not TAH-DAH-look-at-me-erect, but a pretty good start on a chubby. I smiled, at least I wouldn’t have to move my foreskin out of the way to pee this time, and proceeded to slowly fill up the bottle, and then complete the release of urine into another towel, which I held up and around my testicles. After peeing I was supporting a very full erection.

Stood up, looked at my flagpole, shook my head, put the towel IN the washer, capped the bottle and pulled up my underwear and pants, painfully zipped up, and brought the Pepsi bottle out to join its other buddy in the plastic bag.

At 3:54 I had finished my third D-P, and was jumpy and edgy from sixty ounces of caffeinated soda; there were three wet towels in the washing machine, and I had small drool stains on the right collar of my dress shirt. My balls ached a bit, and I was just plain angry at the semi-waste of a Friday sales day. The only saving relief was the $78,000+ order had solidified my entire first quarter, and it was only mid January.

This was going to be a banner year for old Stevie I thought.

I took a break from deciphering this DVD and returned calls; one was from Jessica, wondering if everything was okay? I checked e-mails, and tried to come up with an ad outline to discuss with my client who was concerned enough to call me.

By 6:27 I “woke up” from my ump-teenth viewing and the results were no different, except there were now four wet towels in the other room, and three urine-filled bottles of soda cooling in a plastic bag near my computer case. I was hungry, and very upset that no useful ideas were coming my way. I took off my earphones, clicked my “soggy pen” to my shirt, and gently stroked my penis through my dress slacks and stared at the blank TV.

“Are you okay?”

People usually say they “jumped a mile” – well, I didn’t jump a mile, but I was so startled I’m pretty sure I cleared the plastic-covered-sofa by a quarter of an inch. Jess was standing on the stairs behind me, looking down. I looked up, and hoped she hadn’t seen me touching myself; I covered up with a throw pillow and turned my head to look back and up at her.

“Great, great, sorry I didn’t hear you come down.” I stood up, and exchanged the pillow for the DVD case; “quite a DVD you have here.”

She continued down the stairs and beaming she exclaimed “oh thank you, I’ve worked on it for many months now, what kind of ad are you creating?” She powered off the TV and player.

My bladder pushed some more. “Umm, Jess, can I use the bathroom?”

“Sure, you know where it is.”

“Uh, no – I never got there.” She stopped, looked at me, and away from the jigsaw puzzle…

“What?”

I explained about the door, and she apologized twice, and quickly gave me directions…I took the stairs two at a time….with Jessica following, as I turned the corner into the bathroom I heard her testing the cellar door knob over and over.

My erection had calmed a bit (fear??), and I urinated and flushed, and found Jessica in the kitchen, and I sat at the counter. Her back was to me, as she was cleaning something off the stove, and I looked at her – and then out of the darkened window over the sink, on the window sill was usual items of a potted plant, some kind of small framed photo, and a drying wishbone from some past-eaten bird, a pacifier and a baby bottle.

I stared at the bottle.

“Are you hungry?” Pause. “Steve, are you hungry?” She was now looking at me, and tried to follow my eyes. I looked away.

“You have kids?”

She made the connection, laughed and said, “no it’s my sister’s son’s stuff – they were here over the New Year, and left it behind. I keep it here as a reminder to ship it back along with a stuffed toy he left behind too, and – as you can see – I keep putting it off……” Pause. “Are you hungry?”

I was, but wasn’t going to admit it, and just wanted to get home, and dispose of those three bottles of pee. “No, thanks I’m good.”

She moved from the sink to the fridge, and started singing…. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and

I wanted the bottle…or the pacifier. I just wanted that rubbery nipple between my lips as if my life depended on it, but thankfully my legs didn’t give away my needs, and so like any proper sales professional I guess I took my pen and sucked on that…..because at some point I realized that Jess was staring at me, and smiling.

“You okay? She grinned…. “Ya know, that’s a pretty lucky pen…”

I refocused my eyes, wiped my chin, and put the pen on the table. “I’m, I’m sorry, must be a little tired. Let me go get my stuff, and get out of your way.”

“Do you want to drink out of the bottle?”

My head snapped around and my legs stopped from heading toward the basement door – “what?? Why would you say that?”

Jess tilted her head, and said “because some people like beer out of a glass, and some don’t mind the bottle?!” And held up a Miller Lite, and again tilted her head.

*Sigh* “A bottle is fine, thanks.”

I went downstairs, gathered my stuff, glared at the DVD player, picked up my plastic bag of “Pepsis,” my computer, checked my coat pocket for the phone and keys, and then donned the jacket, but kept it unzipped.

“I’m going to put these out in the car, and warm it up too, okay?”

She nodded, held the door, and when I was done she was at leaning against the counter sipping her beer, and I rejoined her on a stool.

“How did it go today? When can I make my first million?”

Silence.

“Jess – I got nothing, all I know is that something is making me doze off, and I’ve even drank all your Diet Pepsi, which I’ll replace.” She waved no, but I kept going, “I really think you need to get another rep, and I’ll have Tracy, or Jeff or…

I only remember Jessica opening her mouth……. Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and every where that Mary went, Mary went… I stared at the rubbery plastic nipples and began to suckle my Miller Lite.

This time Jess was mopping my shirt and jacket with a towel, and I smelled like a brewery when I came back around. Her chest was inches from me, and I stared at her nipples, with my crotch in a very happy state.

“Can you please try to tackle it one more time tomorrow? Maybe a good night sleep and another go at it? For me? For my dad’s faith in me? For my financial future??”

I wiped my mouth, apologized for the sixth time, got up, prayed my coat was long enough, and said – “What the hell, do you work tomorrow?” I usually did paperwork on Saturdays, but I was pretty embarrassed.

“No, I’ve tomorrow and Monday off – so you can come in any time.

“I’ll be here after the gym – around nine thirty.”

“And I’ll be sure to leave that basement door open, you poor man holding it that long, I’m so sorry, you should have called me.”

I started to say something, thought better of it, and with that I apologized again, went out the car and noticed it was very warm, and that it had been running for about 25 minutes. Where the hell did the time go?

Minutes later Jessica had found the wet towels, sniffed them and smiled, and started a wash; then went back upstairs and brought down five more towels and set them on the table. Then she sat down and began to knit; when the wash was completed she transferred them to the dryer, and moved the safety pins out of the sewing stuff, and placed them in clear view.

Mary Had a Little Lamb was now close to a deep seeded cog in Stevie’s mind…but tomorrow was the key. She smiled, touched herself, and thought.. If this holiday weekend goes as planned, she’d have her deposit back in under a week, and Mr. Anderson under for a lifetime…

She went up the stairs humming the nursery rhyme – making sure to keep time with the thump-thump-thump of the wet towels in the dryer.




To be continued…?!! Stop here? Comments ? – expand the outline...and submit?

#2 diaperlover81

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 11:30 AM

very good!! I would love to hear more please.

#3 musicaddict

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 11:43 AM

Great! It really drew me in and is well written.
"I'm learning to breathe/I'm learning to crawl...I'm living again, awake and alive/I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies" Switchfoot - Learning to Breathe

#4 dlover49

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 03:54 PM

Nice! I am anxiously waiting to see which way this goes.

#5 Bluebird92

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 04:35 PM

Very well-written! Love it and can't wait to see more!

#6 Nia

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 05:29 PM

Great story! I cant wait for more

#7 Army_Baby1

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 06:26 PM

better then I would have thought that it was going to be. I lo loved it and hope to read more......

PS if you have a copy of the DVD please let me know how much........lol

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#8 puffy_bottom

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 08:06 PM

Was this what everybody was watching in Infinite Jest?

#9 Fulldiaper

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 08:35 PM

Awesome, can't wait to see where this goes or where he ends up :D
Growing old is mandatory...Growing up is optional!

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"The Journey of a Thousand Miles, Begins With The First Step"

#10 Bonsai

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 10:37 PM

Good situation. I love mindgames.
I'm... compelled to get the rest of this.
Everybody loves illusions. Love them? They need them like the air they breath! (Shadows and Mist, Woody Allen)

#11 WBDaddy

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Posted 09 January 2012 - 11:04 PM

Suggestion:

When you break out of your first-person (Stevie, "I" did this and that and the other) to narrate something Stevie cannot know but the audience needs to know, maybe separate with a line

__________________________________________________

Like this?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Or this? ;)

#12 Boston Baby

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Posted 10 January 2012 - 06:42 AM

I spaced out the story a bit (WB's comment above) so that the reader will know different verse - didn't want to use a line. Thanks for the compliments - and here's Part II

Mary Had a Little Lamb – Day 2


I made the gym at the usual time, but the work-out was anything but – I was not into my routine because my head could not comprehend what happened yesterday. Here I was one-sixty-second commercial away from a $7,800 commission check and I had only come up with Mary Had a Little Lamb, a jacket that smelled like beer, and a nice case of “blue balls.”

I shaved, showered, put on jeans and station long-sleeve denim logo shirt, and headed for Jess’ house. I brought a six-pack of Diet Pepsi bottles to replace the three I drank and my own cans – hell; something had to do the trick.

A few minutes of 10 I was back down on that now familiar couch, and Jess was off in the far corner painting the sheetrock. On the coffee table was a sports bottle of Gatorade, and there were others over next to the puzzle. I looked at her backside and groaned silently, now I’ve got an audience to see me fail. I put the DVD back in the machine, adjusted my earphones, and hit play.

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb … Mary had a… It was 10:45 and I was dazed, drooling and a little confused, the sports bottle in my hand was nearly empty. I looked around the room, and she was still painting, and NOT looking my way. Thank goodness.

I straightened up, walked around, and muttered to myself….and dreaded any kind of “how’s it going?” question… Jessica meanwhile dared not look at Stevie – and silently prayed about this next run through, this was make or break, so as soon as he was “under” she was going to leave the room.

I walked to the Gatorade, took a new sports bottle, sat back down, gritted my teeth, and hit play… Mary had a little lamb, little lamb; little lamb … Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was… Upon hearing the sucking noise of her happy man-child Jessica put down the roller, and crawled as low as she could so to not break his vision with the madly flickering TV screen, and scooted up the stairs.

The DVD player said 11:32, my collar was damp again, and my bladder was giving me messages. I got up, and looked for Jessica; “Jess?” I pseudo-whispered… “Are you down here?”

Hearing no reply and being led by a nice erection, I ignored the stairs leading to the main floor, and thus the bathroom, silently walked to the washroom, took a clean towel off the stack, dropped my jeans and underwear around my ankles, leaned back against the wall and peed into the towel bunched up around my groin….in big thirsty spurts. I had a goofy grin on my face and a full flagpole below my waist. I stroked it lightly, then pulled up my undies and jeans re-did my belt and slowly zipped up over a good bulge.

I put the towel in the washer, grabbed another Gatorade, and slinked back out to the TV, and then smiled. I WAS beginning to relax, maybe I can write this commercial after all. Ka-ching!

I put on the still-warm earphones, hit play, and let Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb … take me where I wanted to go – peeing in a towel while holding it around my cock.


Jessica heard the sucking and slurping sounds and crept down the stairs, and crawled to the laundry room holding her breath…..she spotted the wet towel in the washer and silently yelled out a big ‘YES’…… Crawled back thru the basement, being sure not to look at the TV screen, and went upstairs, got the baby bottle and pacifier and brought the pacifier to her bedroom and the put the baby bottle on the Gatorade/Puzzle table, and began to paint again.


At 12:27 I stirred awake, and had a nice chubby going on, but spying Jess, I simply went to the table, and reached for a Gatorade bottle…

“You know, if you try something different, the results may be different.”

I looked at her, and she nodded toward the baby bottle. I shrugged and said – “nothing gained, nothing lost.”

I filled the bottle from the Gatorade bottle, capped it, went back to the sofa, leaned back, spread my legs, patted my crotch and hit play.


My little-man needs to be rewarded…

Timing her crawl to the mid-point of the DVD where the urge to suckle was winding down and the urge for diaper-play was beginning to kick in, Jessica came over the couch, kept her head low, below his bottle and arm, and near his lap, undid the belt, zipped down the fly, and pulled the head of his penis barely above the fold of this underwear, wet her fingers and began to stroke him. Very little time passed and she felt his cock begin to expand, his breathing/sucking rate increase and then finished her masturbation thru his underwear….smiling as Steve’s grey briefs grew very damp and warm….re-dressed him and snuck back to her painting.


I woke up, and I knew something was different. I was v-e-r-y relaxed and my balls didn’t hurt anymore. Looking at Jessica’s back, I slid my left hand down and checked my underwear…it was sticky and warm, and yes – I had cum. Pretty nice load too. I sat there thinking – After a day and a half – I was finally relaxed, and the only difference was no Pepsi, and drink out of the baby bottle.

“I’m going to clean up, and get something to eat, do you want anything?”
“No, I’m good – I’ve got my protein bars.”
Jess took the roller and paint up the stairs and I was left alone. GOOD!!

If I did something different this time, would I get another orgasm? I got up off the couch, tip-toed into the wash room, reached for another towel, this time folded it, dropped my pants and underwear around my ankles, waddled over to the wall, and brought the terrycloth up between my legs, and pinned it against the wall with my butt, pushed my stiff member into the towel, closed my eyes, and peed. If I act more like a baby would I get another orgasm…?


At 3:50, Jessica, having monitored the towels in the wash go from bunched to now properly folded, awarded him with another explosion of semen; and then crawled over to the jigsaw puzzle.


The DVD player said 4:02p when I smiled a goofy smile, and without checking to see if Jess was looking my way or not, put down the baby bottle, unzipped my pants a bit, and looked down on gooey underwear.

Jess giggled. “Everything still there?”

“Yeah, everything’s great – I think I’ve climaxed.”

“That’s GREAT, you must be relaxed if your body can do that; are you ready to write my commercial?”

“Ummmmmm….I think I need to study this DVD some more…” I was pretty hooked.

Jess smiled and nodded. “Okay, you’re the professional. Can I fill up your bottle for you?” I nodded, and she went upstairs filled it up, and brought it back down.

At a little before 6:00p, I was leaning up against the wall in the wash room, with a terry cloth diaper held in place by safety pins, and peed and peed; urine dripped through the cloth and dribbled on my pants and underwear at my feet.

“Hello – Steve?”

Oh shit… I tugged at the diaper pins…

“Steve – are down here?” She walked extra-extra slow to give him time…she had a good idea what was going on.

I got the diaper pins undone, but pricked my left finger in the process, put the soaked towel in the wash, waddled to put the pins back and pulled up my underwear and pants when I heard her come around the corner. I was facing the little window and looking as hard as I could out to the dark night….trying to buckle my belt…..

“What are you doing?”

Ahhhhhhhhhhh….trying to see if it started snowing yet – haven’t been upstairs in a while” (who was I kidding – I hadn’t been upstairs since I got here)… I strained harder to peek at anything against the street lights up and across the street. No rain or snow was visible. I turned to her, and she was smiling a small smile, and her head was tilted…as she notice my penis area was wet and hard. I sucked my left finger, and a small taste of blood assaulted my tongue.

“Are you okay, did you cut yourself?”

“I’m fine” I mumbled…

“I’m cooking meatloaf, are you coming upstairs?”

PANIC! NO – I JUST PEED IN A CLOTH DIAPER COMPLETE WITH PINS…I NEED ONE MORE DVD VISIT – I NEED ONE MORE DVD VIEWING… I WANT TO CUM AGAIN…

“Can I watch the DVD one more time?? I think I found a thread to build your commercial around…” Thread – Steve you fuckin’ genius – great word…

Jessica grinned a full tooth-missing-grin, and said “no problem, I’ll have some wine and turn down the oven.”

I followed her back into the basement, when she reached the glass-covered coffee table, she scooped up the empty bottle, and went upstairs…panic began to set in, when she walked back down the stairs and handed me it full with milk. “We’re outta Gatorade – you’ve been a thirsty sales rep.” Jess smiled, kissed me on the cheek, and walked back upstairs.

You know – she’s not that bad looking…a few pounds off, a visit to the dentist…not that bad… Great rack…

I hit play, sucked on my bottle – before the music ever started – and prayed/hoped/wanted/needed the relaxation tape to do its job on my prostate and penis….

At 7:05 I was one frustrated mother-fucker. DAMN, DAMN, DAMN... I limped/lumbered upstairs with a full bladder, and very blue balls, peed in the toilet, and sat at the kitchen counter.

“Do you want a beer?”

“Do you have vodka?”

Jess nodded, and poured me a nice sized amount, and added ice.

We ate dinner, watching Jeopardy, and Miss Redenbacher was pretty smart…by 8 or so, we made some small talk but I really wanted to go back downstairs again, and dive into Mary Had a Little Lamb, but I probably should go home.

“You’ve got to work tomorrow, so I should be going, I want to thank you…..for…” Jessica picked up her phone, hit the screen and Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb…Mary had a little..... It was going on 9 when I knew I had to go to the bathroom, and Jessica was inviting me to spend the night. I went the bathroom with a nice erection, peed, flushed, washed, thought about my horniness and came out with Jess in an extra long Peyton Manning Colts jersey.

“That’s a little dangerous in Patriots country.”

She grinned, “we’re from Indiana – sorry.”

If I could get her to sleep I could sneak back down and watch the DVD again. Jess, I tell you what – I’ll sleep on the sofa downstairs, and you can…”

“I’ve got a better idea, you sleep in your clothes on top of the comforter, and I’ll sleep in my jersey under the sheets and comforter; that way we’ll be together, but not together.”

I glumly agreed, and I borrowed a toothbrush, brushed, took off my shoes and belt and laid down on the left side of the bed. And thought of peeing in towels. Jess got in under the covers, killed the lights, said goodnight, and leaned over and to do something on her nightstand.


Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb … Jess waited for ten or twelve seconds, felt Stevie begin to thrash around looking for his bottle, scooted up further on the pillows, reached over with her left arm, pivoted him onto his side facing her, hiked up her jersey, and guided his mouth to her left breast; She leaned her head back against the headboard and soaked in the wonderful feelings coursing through her body; she gently kissed the top of Steve’s head as his suckling became a content and steady pattern. As the tingles in her body continued, she reached down with her right hand, found a very happy penis and stroked it through his jeans.


It was 11:30 my balls ached, I had a wet spot on my shirt and my bladder was kinda full. I carefully got out of the bed, went by the bathroom, headed downstairs guided by nightlights; and spotted the washroom entry-way dimly lit by the street lights or the moon coming through the window. Scared to be caught, but too horny to care, I grabbed the last remaining towel, got two pins out of the plastic tray, went over to the wall dropped my pants and stained underwear to my ankles, folded the towel into a triangle, brought it up between my legs and her hand touched my arm.

S – - T!

I froze, I started to say her name, when she reached for my hands and whispered “Let me help you.” In a state of shock, I held one side of the terry-towel / diaper while she pinned the other, and my heart continued to race, but my penis certainly didn’t care. She came around me brushed its swelling head, and pinned the other side.

“If you’re going to pee, you’d better push Mr. Happy down a bit.” I did just that and leaned back against the wall…she leaned against my front and with her hands down near my groin. Her belly and breasts touched me all over.

“Go ahead.”

I closed my eyes, sighed, and did just that J…urine surged into the towel, and our right hands both felt the towel grow damp and warm. When I was done I had a very stiff flagpole, and she slowly slid down my legs and kneeled on my pants. Her left hand covered my right hand and joined me – as I / we lightly stroked my dick thru the towel. I made an effort to get back to the sofa, because that’s where the magic always occurred. Her right hand grabbed my knee and she shook her head.

No, do it here. I want to watch.”

And under the cover of almost darkness, lost in a sea of warm testicles and lust, I stroked myself, my left hand cupping a full mass of wet towel.

“Aim for my mouth.” And with those words, I came.

Recovering from my orgasm, I found Jess dabbing at herself with her jersey and then removing it to dab at my legs and the carpet.

“I’m, I’m sorry; I just don’t know what…” She silenced me by kissing the lower insides of my legs and whispered – “let’s get you out of these dirty clothes.”

My pants, shirt and cum-stained underwear, joined her equally messy garb in the washing machine; she unpinned me, and the last towel was added to the pile. She added the detergent, started the machine, and put down the pins.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Both naked, she led me upstairs, I started to get on top of the sheets but under the comforter, and Jess just stared at me. Realizing that I did look pretty foolish, I lifted up the top-sheet too, and slid onto a very comfortable and deep mattress. It felt wonderful, and in a sleepy / post-sexual release state, kissed her on the lips and said “I think that DVD really does work, I’ve never been so….”

Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb … This time, as Stevie sucked on her left nipple, Jess rewarded herself with a powerful orgasm, and felt wave-after-wave of shivers and tingles. After a while, she reached for the pacifier, broke Stevie’s suckling, and gave him the Nuk. She donned a robe, went out thru the mudroom into the garage, popped the trunk and took out a sleeve of adult diapers and a blue diaper pail. Carried them back into the house and down into the basement. She stopped the washer in mid-cycle, and placed all the diapers where the towels had been before, and put away the safety pins into her sewing stuff.

Wouldn’t need those anymore…

On the way back thru the basement, she ejected Mary Had a Little Lamb from the player and put the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star DVD on the glass coffee table. Grabbed the other DVD box, and went back to join her man-child in bed.

Standing naked at the side of the bed, the nursery rhyme still playing “his siren song” she looked down on the pacifier sucking man; felt her nipples harden again, and slid into bed. Off went the speaker on the smart-phone, his sucking slowly subsided. Spooning with Steve, and very content to have this man in her bed, she didn’t even mind the nice-sized puddle of drool under her left shoulder.



Continue?

#13 Fulldiaper

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Posted 10 January 2012 - 07:42 AM

Very prolific writing style and content. Please do continue.
Growing old is mandatory...Growing up is optional!

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"The Journey of a Thousand Miles, Begins With The First Step"

#14 Boston Baby

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Posted 10 January 2012 - 08:37 AM

Full Diaper - YOU are a pro at writing - Community College was a masterpiece...!! :thumbsup:

#15 diaperpt

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Posted 10 January 2012 - 08:53 AM

This is a pretty good story. There is no question in my mind but what you ought to continue writing. I'm very interested in where this is heading.

#16 Lollipop

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Posted 10 January 2012 - 07:35 PM

Love this story is great!!

#17 diaperlover81

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Posted 10 January 2012 - 08:52 PM

Great story, love to read more please..

#18 underworld

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Posted 11 January 2012 - 07:43 AM

full diaper and early bedtimes

#19 Bonsai

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Posted 11 January 2012 - 08:22 AM

Nice the idea of falling prey of a not-so-beautiful woman with a missing tooth.
I wonder if he will ever try to react to the addiction or simply go down like a heavy stone in the water.
Everybody loves illusions. Love them? They need them like the air they breath! (Shadows and Mist, Woody Allen)

#20 Boston Baby

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Posted 11 January 2012 - 09:21 AM

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star


When I awoke Jess was fully dressed and the clock said 7:02.

“Hey sleepy head, how do you feel?

“I feel pretty good, but,” I rubbed my jaw a bit, “my jaw feels a little tender. Maybe I’ve been grinding my teeth?” I looked her over – loose clothing where needed to hide her stomach and caboose, nice shoes and panty-hose to show off her legs which weren’t bad, and a hint of cleavage and proper make-up. Her eyes danced.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” I chose the latter. “The washer started making horrible noises last night, so I stopped the cycle, and thus you’ve got no clothes to wear.”

I sat up and stared. “What’s the good news?”

She sat on the edge of the bed, “the good news is that I work at a major clothing store, and I will bring you home some clothes tonight.”

“…and in the meantime…?”

“In the meantime” she walked to her chest of drawers and pulled out some sweatpants and jerseys; “I’m sure with my extra padding above and below the waist, you’ll have enough room to fit in these.” I groaned and nodded. She asked my sizes, and I gave them to her.

“What did you think of my DVD? Can you write the ad?” I sat and pondered the question…
“So far all I know is that the DVD makes me thirsty, time goes by in a blur, and if all goes right, I can end up with an orgasm.” I looked at Jess, and she nodded, and smiled – “is there a market for that?”

“I’ll make it a priority.”

Jess came to the bed leaned over, and I tilted my head up, and we had a soft, no tongue kiss; “I’ve got a truck to inventory, and I’m on the floor til 6:30; would you be a dear and take me out to dinner tonight when I get home?”

Remembering that tomorrow was the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, I agreed.

“I put your stuff downstairs, so you’re good to go. Now make me a million-dollar ad.”

I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up, and with that she departed the bedroom and noises were heard as Miss Redenbacher made her way thru the house, and into the garage, and was gone.

I was alone. YES!!

I took a shower, found not one bath towel in the house, so I tried myself with a couple dish towels. Did the “big job,” brushed my teeth, donned a pair of sweat pants – which fit thru the waist, but were too short on the legs, and a T-Shirt from some long ago walk-a-thon.

I found cereal and the milk, and listened to the news; checked the missed call listings and noted that Mom and Dad, and my girlfriend Lisa had called between eight and ten last night. Great, talk to them later. I put the bowl in the dishwasher and hoofed it downstairs. It was warm – very warm. Jessica must have kicked-in the electric baseboard heaters. I plugged in my cans, turned on everything, filled up the baby bottle with the blue water in the pitchers, went to the coffee table threw my notebook on the floor (Notes? I don’t need no stinkin’ notes), grabbed the DVD and cringed.

Where was Mary Had a Little Lamb? I want to climax again. I looked high and low, and could not find the first DVD; I scrambled for my notebook and dialed Jessica.

“Steve, is everything okay?” Music was heard from the car radio.

Ummm, yeah – I, umm, No, I can’t find Mary Had a Little Lamb, all I’ve got is the Twinkle Twinkle DVD…”

Jess laughed, that DVD you have starts with Mary Had a Little Lamb, and continues the relaxation process with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…. Okay?”

(THANK GOODNESS!) “Oh, okay, okay – that’s great; see you tonight, and don’t forget my clothes.” She promised she wouldn’t and hung up. Jess put the phone back in her bag, hiked up her skirt just a bit and touched herself there. On her mental shopping list she added “one pair of pantyhose” because her cotton in-seam was soaked.

Back in her basement the DVD cover was just like the previous one – except this one said VOL 2 and 62 minutes.

I went thru the motions, settled onto the sofa, leaned back, sucked on my bottle, and hit play. And at 8:51 woke up with an empty bottle, drool on my chin, a few belches and burps and the need to pee. Never thinking about going up the stairs, I marched into the washroom, and saw the diapers.

That’s right – no towels. I opened up the washer, and the cold dirty water stared back at me. A diaper? That’s a pretty big step. My bladder pushed some more, and my penis wanted to comment too – so thinking with the little head, and not the big head, I picked up the heavy adult diaper, pulled down the sweatpants and underwear and placed the “V” of the diaper over my erection and peed into it. I made a silly smile and giggle, and then put the partially wet diaper in the blue trash can.

I waddled back to the coffee table, picked up my bottle, finally pulled up my underwear and sweats – filled her nephew’s (my??!!) bottle, skipped/floated back to the couch, put on my earphones and hit play. Maybe this time I’ll get an orgasm.

It wasn’t to be – just another trip into my diaper-room, and another partially wet diaper was placed into the trash can.

In the middle of my third viewing my brain was getting weird messages……you-need-to-pee-you-need-to-pee-you-need-to-pee-you-need-to-PEE-you-need-TO-PEE-you-NEED-TO-PEE…YOU-NEED-TO-PEE…YOU-ARE-PEEING-YOU-ARE…

I refocused, the TV was blank, the bottle was empty and I had a growing wet spot on Jessica’s pants. NO! I clamped down as best I could, grabbed my dick to stop the flow of urine, and hoofed it around the corner. Spurting some more before getting erect dick into absorbent material, I let loose a torrid stream, and sighed. I stepped out of the sweatpants, and was left with white socks and a baggy T-shirt. I looked at the diaper in my right hand.

If you try something new – maybe something different will happen…

I walked back into the basement – happy that it was warm, filled my bottle up with more blue liquid, put on my headphones, and sat on the diaper with the wet part under my ass and the dry part over my penis. And hit play.

It was a shade before 12 and the bottle was empty, and the diaper was full. Droplets had run down so a small stream of urine was in the fold of the sofa. I gazed at it, and slowly took the T-Shirt off, picked up the soggy diaper and mopped up, grateful for the plastic that protected my client’s new purchase. My dick was very very happy.

I ate a protein bar, looked at the wet diaper on the coffee table, and then at the TV. I deposited the third diaper in the pail, got out another, repeated all the steps and this time sat in the warm thick diaper and pulled it up around me. I did NOT use the tapes – that was for babies – and I was a sales rep on a sales call, trying to write an ad!!

At 1:15 I was soaked, and burping, and unfortunately farting a bit as my body tried to get rid of gas built up inside of me. At 2:36 I was into my fifth diaper – wet, warm, and pretty full. I tucked my left hand down between my legs and squeezed gently, and rubbed gently, and squeezed and rubbed, and watched pre-cum ooze on the head of my dick.

At 3:44 I put on the diaper the entire way, tapes and all, leaned back hit play, and prayed for an orgasm to relieve the sexual tension I was engulfed in.

At 4:49 I couldn’t take the diaper off.

My fingers and thumbs didn’t do what my brain commanded, and the warm wet white bulge (around my bulge) mockingly looked back at me. I went to the DVD case, grabbed it and read it……

I grabbed the DVD case? My hands DO work….

I gazed down and again tried to remove my diaper – and my hands swayed and twitched but did not do any good what so ever. I dug out my cell, and while rubbing my dick with the warm-slick material, my right hand held onto the phone and prayed Jess would answer.

“Hello, Steve? You okay??”

“When are you coming home? I need some help.”

“Oh my goodness – what’s the matter?”

Silence. How do you say what I have to say…?
On the other end of the line, Jess waited…and smiled and said a small prayer…

“My hands don’t work.”

“If your hands didn’t work Mr. Anderson – how could you dial the phone? Look honey, I’ll be home in…”
“I NEED YOU TO HELP ME GET OUT OF A WET DIAPER.”

YES – she beamed…

“Well, you just pull the tapes back…”

“I did, and my hands don’t work – they work on everything else – but not the diaper; can you please hurry…??!! I don’t know what the matter is, and it’s rather weird, and rather strange, and my privates are starting to itch, and… I am not relaxed but am worried…and I’m freaking out…” Sensing that panic was starting to creep into her little guy – Jessica Redenbacher did what a good mommy would do – she got her baby a bottle… Mary had a little lamb, little lamb little lamb, Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow…and every where that Mary went, Mary went…

Hearing the happy sucking noises on the phone, Jess broke the connection, and walked to her office; on top of the bag of clothes she purchased she wrote a note “rash cream, wipes, bottle and powder,” and proceeded to call her District Manager to see if she could leave early.

At 5:15 I was burping and farting like crazy, my bottle was bone dry, and my lips were a bit chapped; I sloshed over to the second pitcher, filled my bottle back up. I hung over the back of the sofa and tried to make myself burp some more. Realizing that time somehow passed faster when watching her DVD’s I put on the phones, glumly hit play, touched my not-to-be-relieved-erection, and woke up at 6:24.

Sue was looking down at me, and I looked at her, the diaper was saturated, the plastic of the couch was damp, and I said “help me please.”

She took a towel out of her Marshall’s bag, and spread it on the coffee table, gestured me to it, and I plopped down, spilling more pee. She pushed me back so my bottom was at one end of the table, and my head, barely fitting at the other end; she looked down, ignoring the tent in my groin area.

“Now what’s this about your hands won’t work?”

“Look, I go to pull the tapes off of the diaper, and…….” My hands worked just fine thank you. The tapes gratefully let go, and my privates were damp, a bit pink, erect and clearly visible for all to see.

“Nice erection. If you wanted to play, you could have just said – Jess, I’m horny and thinking of you, can you come home early? You didn’t need to make up a my-hands-don’t-work and practically scare me to death; I set a Rhode Island speed record driving home, and my D-M had to go in to lock up.”

“I swear my hands didn’t work.”

“Whatever, let’s get you cleaned up.” She pulled the diaper out from underneath me, rolled it up, walked it into the washroom did a low-five with the diaper pail, added it to the growing stack; picked up a clean disposable, came back out to the coffee table and proceeded to put diaper rash cream, and powder on me, and tape me up. Somewhere between embarrassment and sexual desire, I allowed my self to be put back into the diaper.

“I’ve got some calls to make,” and she put the cans back on my head, filled up the bottle, grabbed the now two empty pitchers, handed me the bottle, and hit play. I came to at 7:46, I was hungry, the room was empty, and my diaper was fairly full. I sat up, pulled at the tapes – and my hands wouldn’t work again.

W-T-F….?

Off came the earphones and I waddled up the stairs pretty damn fast; Jessica was sitting on her bed, in just a long jersey, and pantyhose. She was on her cell, and she stared back – soaking in my panic, as I stood there almost naked, with just a droopy diaper, a pair of socks, and an erection. She ended the conversation, and took off her jersey.

Her breasts were exposed, and I was too…

She cooed “Have you been a good boy today?”

I nodded. She got off the bed and slowly walked toward me; I didn’t know whether to look at the crotch of her pantyhose, or the two magnificent melons coming my way.

“If I go through your little blue pail – will I find any gooey sticky diapers?”

All I could do was shake my head NO, and burp.

“Then someone deserves a reward,” and with that she led me back to the bed, laid down on it, and bade me to get on top of her. “Pull one tape off the top of each side, so your penis can come out and play.”

This time my hands worked again, strange - and I did what I was told.

She reached down, and playfully pulled the diaper up tight around me, forcing me to ‘skootch’ up onto her stomach, and said “fuck my tits.” And there, on a cold Sunday evening, Jess held her breasts close together and I slid on a warm-wet-diaper up and down her belly, thrusting for all I was worth. It felt AWESOME, and I came all over her and them. Once my breathing had slowed, I looked down at her and her up at me. And then - as any proper sales professional would do, I slid down her body, over her soft belly, ripped her pantyhose at the crotch and satisfied my client.

Due to the hour we ordered pizza in, and washed it down with laughter, kisses and beers. I even drank out of the baby bottle. We brushed our teeth, she offered to diaper me for bed, and I declined.

We tumbled into bed kissed and spooned, her breasts against my back; I fell to sleep, very relaxed, and pretty happy.

Later in the pre-dawn hours, Jessica uncoupled carefully, grabbed her iPhone, and pushed a button….

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, how I wonder where you are, up above the world so high…

She let the song play through and crept out of bed as a stain of wetness spread out from around Steve. She went to the basement, started the washer up again, counted all the wet diapers, and put a not-so-wet-one on the (outside) top of the pail; and then went into the back basement to bring the sleeping bags clearer into view.

Returning to the washroom, she put the wipes, the powder and the diaper rash cream on a small ledge in the washroom, just away from the door on the sawhorses. Got scissors from her sewing kit and cut the tags off his new jeans – extra baggy on one pair, and tossed them in the dryer, and did the same with his button-down shirts, and a packet of underwear. Put in a couple dryer sheets, and began that cycle. Added the coffee-table-towel into the hamper, moved back upstairs, and then washed the baby bottle, and let it dry.

Back in the bedroom the song had long finished playing, and Steve was damp, and still asleep; she smiled, touched herself, and went to wake him up.






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