Posted 13 February 2012 - 10:51 PM
The diaper-wearing habit was something he formed out of habit. It started nearly 20 years ago. He was drinking with friends at a bar in the city, and didn't realize -- because he was inebriated -- that he wet himself profusely. Drip, drip, drip. A very noticeable puddle formed on the bar's hardwood floor. After a while, he knew that he wet himself, but the feeling of embarrassment came later. He felt a little warm. That's all. No harm, no foul. The bartender disagreed, however, and threw him out of the bar for making a mess. Friends later joked with him. "You should've worn diapers, dude," they teased him. The teasing got to him, but he didn't want to admit it. Because he liked to drink, he knew that he would be back at some other bar. And because he knew that he would have an "accident" if he drank too much, Mark had to play it smart. He quietly bought himself some adult diapers, and squirreled them away from his unsuspecting wife of 15 years, Susan.
Not before long, he was wearing them often. In fact, he gained enough confidence to go bar-hopping with his friends on the weekend, black out, wake up the next morning completely dry. Mark was grateful for having one less thing to worry about during his hangovers. The headaches and the fatigue were enough to deal with. He'd wake up with the feeling of a warm-wet diaper, and feel like a baby again. It was a good feeling. He wanted more of it, but he didn't fully understand why. He wanted to find out, but he knew it would be difficult to explore this unique interest because of his wife. Mark spent a lot of his diapered-up time outside of the house: around his ranch and in public. Walking around crinkly inside was forbidden. Susan was smart. She could find out quickly and understandably disapprove of her husband, a grown man wearing something only babies wear. A discovery would be disastrous.
Mark's friends were unaware that he wore diapers. Mark was on his own, and he didn't mind that one bit. In fact, he liked being that one dude with a dirty little secret. It was more adventurous that way. So for almost two decades, Mark lived a double life. At home, he was a loving husband and family man. He went to church, did his chores, was proactive in the community, and built birdhouses in his garage. Outside the home, he was "Dirty Boy Mark," his friends called him. He loved being dirty. At 45, being a "dirty boy" was something that Mark earned after decades of hard work and raising a family.
He spent one afternoon fishing in a small boat while floating gently on a remote part of the Wichita River, which ran adjacent to his property. He sat in the boat, dressed warmly with a wool sweater, a lifejacket on top, and a thick disposable diaper. He didn't wear any pants, and he didn't want to. He liked the summer breeze cradling his bare legs. He felt confident in his secure undergarment -- and if he leaked, so what? After a few hours of fishing, he set his pole aside, leaned back on his boat and read the newspaper. He flipped through the pages while doing his business, and he didn't have to worry about running out of toilet paper. He didn't have to worry about clogging the toilet, fetching the plunger, and unplunging his embarrassing mess. Everything was self-contained.
He left a hearty fart, which sounded like a pop through his diaper. Mark filled up his seat comfortably, and sighed happily when he was done. For a moment, he imagined someone telling him, "Good boy. Fill that diaper up good." The imaginary voice inside his mind managed to turn him on. He felt a little sweaty by his groin, and his body was warming up. The slightly chubby, bald-headed diaper boy was horny -- and he had an itch that needed to be scratched. He reached into his yellow-covered, wet diaper to rub himself where it mattered, and make every stroke of the shaft worthwhile. It didn't take long before he ejaculated. The warm-welcomedafterglow was splendid. He wanted to sit back, relax, and smoke a cigarette as he floated up the river in a full diaper. He couldn't have too much fun, though. The family expected him to return home soon. He rowed back to land. As soon as he set foot on the ground, he changed out of his dirty diaper, and hopped into his red 2009 Chevy Silverado.
Dinner was served at his modest 1,800 square-foot, single-story home on his ranch. He sat with his wife at the dining room table, gave the Lord's prayer, and began dining on his most recent catch of fish with a side of Susan's marvelous garlic mashed potatoes and vegetables. He took a sip of Coca-Cola, belched softly and covered his mouth.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" asked Susan, who was smiling at Mark.
Realizing that she was alluding to the burp, Mark coyly replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."
Susan chuckled. "Good grief. You have no table manners whatsoever."
"Not true," he said, poking his mashed potatoes. "I have them on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."
"Tsk. You should have them all the time. I thought I married a southern gentleman, but I was mistaken. I married a bullfrog."
"And I married a horse." Susan stuck her tongue out at Mark. "Okay, okay. A kind horse."
Susan shook her head. "I'll take that, at least. You know, I used to be thin, but your mom's cookin' got me fat. It's her fault you know."
"Yeah, yeah. Sure."
Without the bedroom secrets, Mark's life was a genuine slice of old-fashioned Americana. He went shopping for supplies at Walmart one afternoon, and casually strolled through the aisles. He felt like a kid in the candy store, especially when he was shopping by himself. After getting the essentials, Mark approached the "Incontinence" aisle. There he came face to face with something he didn't want people to see in his shopping cart. He looked at the Attends Briefs for a few seconds, and nervously looked around to see if anyone else was in the aisle. After the coast was clear, Mark placed the bag of Attends in his shopping cart and walked away whistling softly. Ironically, he wasn't wearing diapers at the time, and nature was calling. He drove his cart to the men's room nearby and walked in.
After using the toilet, Mark exited the stall and washed his hands. As he washed his hands, Mark looked at himself in the mirror, smiled, and lipped compliments about himself. "Damn, I'm one sexy motherfucker," he told himself. He turned off the faucet to pose, and flex the muscles in his arms. Suddenly, he heard a mushy thud as if something damp had fallen on the floor. He turned around, looked down at the floor, and his eyes ultimately gazed upon a used adult diaper that was left on the floor by the handicap stall. Mark was pleasantly surprised. He wanted to know who was in the handicap stall. His curiosity consumed him for a few minutes. He stayed perfectly still and tried to not shuffle his feet on the tiled restroom floor. Finally, the target emerged: a 30-something young man who dressed in a Walmart work uniform. The man's eyes darted around the restroom. He quickly closed the stall door behind him and washed his hands. He left in a hurry, leaving his dirty diaper behind. Mark chuckled softly and shook his head.
A similar incident happened to Mark when he first started wearing adult diapers, and it even happened more recently when he went drinking with friends a month ago. The young man deserved a little sympathy. Mark understood his anxiety, and that's why he made sure to throw the dirty diaper away into a trash can. The diaper was thoroughly wet and fortunately not messy. Mark had a horrifying gag reflex when he came across other people's foul odors.
The diaper-wearing young man happened to be one of the cashiers at Walmart. Mark made sure to stand in his checkout line despite other lines not having as many people waiting around. Mark's mind was inundated with ideas about what he could say to the cashier. Then he looked down at his cart and saw the Attends Briefs. Perhaps the particular purchase would break the ice, and send a message to the cashier that he wasn't the only one who wore diapers. By the time Mark arrived at checkout, there was nobody else behind him -- so he could talk to the cashier if he wanted to without holding up the line. He stood very stoically as he played his items on the checkout conveyor belt.
"Did you find everything you were looking for?" asked the cashier. Asking that question was part of store policy.
"Oh, yeah. Y-Yes I did," Mark replied with a stutter. The older Southern gentlemen ended up blushing -- to his surprise -- when the cashier ran up the bag of diapers. He stopped for a moment, and looked at Mark with concern on his face. Easing any possible tension, Mark chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "It's a good brand. I highly recommend it."
The cashier immediately realized that he left his dirty diaper on the restroom floor, and Mark was there. He must have seen it, the cashier assumed. "Did you buy these for me?" the cashier asked. He felt odd for asking such a ridiculously awkward question to a stranger.
"Hm. Well, I was originally getting these for myself, but here..." Mark handed the cashier a $20 bill. "Just put that item on a separate transaction. Consider it a gift from one big baby to another."
The cashier waved his hands and shook his head furiously. "No, no. I can't accept this."
Mark nodded. "Okay. I'll pay for it, and give it to you some other time. What's your name, kid?"
The cashier extended his hand to Mark. "Robbie."
Mark shook Robbie's hand. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Mark. You're not alone."
Robbie sighed and grinned. "Well, now I know. By the way, my shift ends in 15. Think you can swing by in the back?"
Mark waited for Robbie behind Walmart in the employee-only parking lot. He stood with a discreet paper bag, which contained the diapers. Mark felt like he was a shady drug deal, looking for a big score. Instead, he was merely an old, tired redneck with a package of diapers. He imagined being a "diaper dealer" in a retirement home, standing in a corner of the place wearing sunglasses and a trenchcoat; acting suspiciously when the nurses pass by. In his fantasy, he imagined that an old woman would approach him and ask, "Do you have the goods?" He'd respond by simply opening his trenchcoat, revealing diapers that lined his wide coat pockets.
"This latest stash is the Dry 24/7," he told the woman. "It's got an elastic waistband, full-length leak guards, complete skin dryness, and the best absorbency around."
"$1.75 a pop."
She pulls out her wallet, and brings out the cash. "My son would be happy to know that his inheritance is going to keeping my pants dry," she joked sarcastically.
The fantasy ended when Robbie approached Mark parking lot. Dressed in plain clothes, Robbie had his hands deep in his pockets and looked down at the concrete by his feet. Robbie was embarrassed about the whole thing. He was fortunate to meet someone who also wore diapers, but his stomach was still in knots. He was disappointed with himself for leaving a dirty diaper in the men's room. There was a sanitation issue, and as a person with a penchant for cleanliness, Robbie felt personally ashamed. Mark didn't think much of it, though, and he showed that he was at ease. He also detected the look of nervousness on Robbie's face.
"Hey man, it's alright. Don't sweat it," assured Mark.
"Cool, cool. Sorry... It's just weird, y'know?" said Robbie. "I mean, nothing personal..." Robbie couldn't believe that someone else bought him diapers.
"No, no offense taken. Here's your bag." Mark offered the bag, and Robbie hurriedly took it. "I agree. Sure, it's weird. The thought of wearing them is weird, but once you wear them and get used to them, it's alright."
"It's not like that. It's just that I'd never imagine meeting someone else who wore them... someone who wasn't a baby or an old person." Robbie chuckled and studied Mark's physical appearance. "I mean, like, really, really old."
Mark chuckled. "I'm 45. I'm not at 50 just yet, so I don't fall into the 'really, really old' category. Still young at heart."
"Nice!" Robbie looked at the bag of diapers and snickered. "My girlfriend thinks I'm crazy for wearing these, but she's okay with it. I'm grateful."
"Is that so? My wife? She doesn't have a fuckin' clue. Not a clue."
"How long have you been doing this -- I mean, you know?"
"Too damn long."
"You should talk to her about it." For a moment, Robbie thought he was out of place for giving an older man advice.
"I should, but eh," said Mark with a cynical shrug. "I've worn outside the house. I own a ranch with acres and acres worth of property, so I'm hikin' around in my boots with a diaper on. When I come home, though, it's off. I can't have her see me in one. Everything is incognito."
Robbie was surprised at the fearful nature of Mark's comment. "That must be rough."
"It works. I'm comfortable with it."
"But it's not like you're cheating on her or anything," Robbie tried to reason. "Everyone's got their 'thing.' Why can't she accept that you have your 'thing'?"
Mark stood for a few seconds, and carefully formed an answer. "My wife is picky and judgmental," he told Robbie.
"She should love you for who you are, period."
Mark sighed. "Enjoy the diapers," he said, patting Robbie on the shoulder. "I'll be around."
He walked away without saying another word. He didn't know what he could say. After years of thinking that he was the only person, in his area, that had interest in diapers. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it. For a while, Mark thought he was dreaming, but then he realized he wasn't when he later got stuck in traffic while en route to the ranch. He sat in the car, thinking he was going to see Robbie again eventually. He thought about what the young man said, and he started thinking about how he lived an awkward lifestyle. He was right. His wife should love him for who he was. He wasn't hurting anyone. And he wasn't having much of a sex life to begin with. After all, he was married.
He returned home at about four in the afternoon, and flopped down on the couch. Susan sat with him and watched television. He saw a commercial for Luvs that showed a bunch of animated babies riding in a minivan to tune of "Get Together" by The Youngbloods. He was a young boy when Woodstock '69 came around. He fondly remembered listening to the "groovy" music on his father's old radio in the garage. Dad would tinker with his black 1965 Cadillac DeVille Coupe, and Mark would dance to the music -- and nobody told him that he couldn't. It was a moment in time that instantly brought Mark a sense of tranquility.
As joyful as it was to stay in that memory, Mark knew he was in the present. He looked over at his wife, smiled, and stroked her hair. Susan wiggled her nose at him. He could he tell her? Looking into her stunning green eyes, Mark was at a loss of words. She trusted him. She loved him dearly. He kept thinking to himself, "No, Mark. You didn't cheat on her. Just say it and move on. What could go wrong?" Though his conscience tried pushing him to confess his secret pleasures to his wife, Mark exhaled and turned his head away from her. Susan was no fool. She knew something was on his mind. She could tell by his body language. He leaned his stiff body on one side of the couch, looking preoccupied and distant.
"Is something the matter?" she asked.
"Nah. It's just that..." He yawned. "I've been thinking about maybe -- just maybe -- I shoul spend some time with you tonight."
Susan smirked. "I can see where this is going. Did that Viagra commercial give you some ideas?"
"What?" He wasn't paying attention to Viagra commercial that just aired a minute earlier. "Well, I don't need Viagra."
She chuckled and gave Mark a kiss on the cheek. "We're getting old, aren't we?"
Mark's stomach churned when she asked the question. "Nah," he replied sarcastically.
"It's never too late to have a little fun, though!"
Mark had sex with Susan in their master bedroom. He grinded on top of her, and she moaned passionately. She was wondering what managed to rekindle his interest in lovemaking. Mark thought about wearing diapers around Susan, and getting teased by her. He wanted her to say, "Look at the big, widdle baby wetting his diaper." After having talked to Robbie, he could visualize Susan humiliating him for being a big ol' diaper boy. He wanted to be mocked for not being able to make it to the bathroom. He could imagine her laughter as he helplessly wet himself. He could imagine his wife watching him as the wet spot on his diaper grew and grew, turning the once-white diaper into something very soggy and yellow. When he climaxed, Mark rolled off of her and laid in bed. He looked up, staring at the ceiling fan.
Susan took a deep breath. She slid out of bed. Naked, she walked to the master bathroom and headed there to shower. She talked to Mark as she got ready.
"That was a treat," she told Mark. "What got into you all of a sudden?"
"I don't know." He lied.
"You don't know?" Susan was suspicious. "Oh please. You don't come and hit me up for sex out of the blue."
Mark went silent. For years, wearing diapers was something that gave him pleasure, but he rarely considered it as something that could enhance his sex life with his wife. Just thinking about it got him excited. What happened if he could actually pull it off? He wanted to talk to Robbie, and ask him how he introduced his girlfriend to his unique interests. Mark wasn't able to mention the word "diaper" around his wife. He wanted to be honest and forthcoming about it, but the words refused to come out. He felt like a coward: something that directly contradicted the perception that he was a carefree, diapered cowboy who made no compromises.
He arrived at Walmart two weeks later, but wasn't necessarily there to pick up the usual supplies. He looked around the store to see if Robbie was around. He had a feeling Robbie was working that day so he decided to stick around for a while and pass the time. He wandered around the aisles, pretending to be a cautious shopper looking for a good deal. He saw Robbie appear from an office located in the back of the store and walk through the store to the checkout area. Mark waved to Robbie. The young man smiled wryly and nodded his head to Mark. Mark pointed to the "Incontinence" aisle. He lipped to Robbie, "I'll be there." Robbie rolled his eyes playfully, and headed to checkout.
Mark bought a bag of diapers. He was running low. He approached Robbie's register with his purchase.
"I'm glad I can buy this without having to go online," said Mark with a pleasant sigh.
"'Cause you got me, right?" Robbie snickered.
Mark pulled out his wallet to take out some cash. As he went through his wallet, he found a small photo of his wife. He bit down on his lip.
"Say Robbie, can I ask you for some advice sometime? Not here, of course, but..." Mark whispered. His eyes looked sheepishly around the front part of the store.
"Yeah, sure. What's your number? We can chill at my place or something."
Later that day, Mark arrived at Robbie's apartment, which was about 30 minutes away from the ranch. He looked at a piece of paper, which had Robbie's address on it. He knocked the door of Apartment #2. When the door opened, he was greeted by Robbie, but Mark was taken aback by Robbie's appearance. Robbie stood in the doorway wearing only a disposable diaper. Mark averted his eyes as a generic reflex to seeing something unusual. He was not used to seeing another grown man in diapers. "Whoa there," Mark said, cackling nervously.
Unfazed, Robbie smiled. "Come on in."
Mark walked in, and studied the place. Everything seemed normal at first, at least. Robbie lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment that was very clean. The counters were spotless. The floors were obviously mopped because they were shiny enough that he could see his reflection on the hardwood floor. The apartment smelled like air freshener. It was likely used to cover up the odor of dirty diapers. The artificial air freshener scent overwhelmed him. It was clear that Robbie had cleaned for Mark and wanted to leave a lasting impression. Mark wasn't one for extensive cleanliness, but he appreciated the effort.
Mark looked at Robbie's diaper for a moment.
It was an Abena Abri-Form X-Plus. He wore a medium. The thin, blue wetness indicators were still there. The diaper was dry. Mark felt his erection pushing against his tight jeans as he made a mental checklist of what he saw. In his mind, he asked himself, "Why?" Why was he turned on by seeing another man in diapers? Perhaps, he thought, that he saw himself in Robbie, and he could easily relate to the experience. The tightness of his jeans was getting to him. It felt like his jeans suddenly shrunk around the crotch.
"Maybe I should have put on some clothes," said Robbie.
"No, it's okay. It's just that it's like, 'Well hello there!' Wham! Bam! Thank you ma'am!"
"It's nothing," assured Robbie. "You wearin'? If you are, feel free to take those pants off and join the party."
"I'm not wearing." Mark cackled. "Now I'm hung up on another dude telling me to take my pants off."
Robbie was concerned that he might have irked Mark with the suggestion. "Make yourself at home."
Mark slowly walked around the living room. "I wanted to ask you for some advice."
"Okay, sure. What's up?"
Robbie walked into his kitchen to fetch himself a can of Coors Light. He took a can out of the fridge, and took a few sips from it as he returned to the living room. As he fetched his beer, Robbie listened attentively to Mark. Mark explained that he wanted to wear diapers around the house, and he wanted to see how he could get his wife to accept his "lifestyle choice." For a while, Robbie assumed Mark wasn't the type to seek advice. He thought Mark was very sure of himself. He thought Mark was more shameless than he was. Turned out the big ol' diapered cowboy had some issues to deal with.
Robbie sat and talked to Mark on the living room couch. Instead of giving advice, Robbie talked to Mark about how he got involved with diapers. Robbie told a yarn about how he got in a car accident at 17 and injured his back. He was hospitalized for a little more than a week, and had surgery on his spine. His injuries weren't severe enough to cause paralysis, but he had to lay mostly motionless for hours in bed. On the first night of his hospital visit, the nurse asked him if he preferred to use a bed pan or wear diapers. The diaper option was presented because the injury gave him temporary loss of urine and bowel movement control. Robbie was originally terrifed with being given the choice. Once she noticed the horrified look on Robbie's face, she explained that the nursing staff would help accommodate his personal needs without being judged. He muttered "bed pan" as his choice.
Later that night, Robbie tried to use the bed pan. He pressed the "call" button, and a nurse came in to slip the bed pan underneath him. Because of his injury, he was temporarily incontinent, and was unable to hold his bladder. Despite this, he grew increasingly nervous as the nurse stood and watched as he attempted to pee in the bed pan. He grimaced at the nurse. Without saying anything, the nurse realized that Robbie wanted some privacy. He tried to relax, and use the bed pan. "Don't think about it, Robbie. Just do it!" he told himself. After a few minutes of trying to convince himself that it was alright for him to go, the nurse came back in the room.
"Give me the diaper," Robbie said. Defeated, Robbie assumed the worst. The idea of wearing a diaper gave him goosebumps, but he obviously had bigger things to worry about.
The nurse, a tall and thin woman with red hair and blue eyes, calmly applied the diaper on Robbie. The experience was surprisingly electifying. Here was this beautiful nurse, who was putting him in diapers. He didn't understand why he enjoyed it, but he was going to remain quiet and take it all in. She slipped the diaper underneath his bare bottom and let the diaper's wings hang to the side. It felt like he was sitting on a soft, cotton blanket of security. Next came the front half, which was gracefully applied on top of his crotch. He felt the diaper graze his crotch in such a way that the sensation made him hard. He hoped the nurse wouldn't notice, and if she did, he was prepared to explain that he had no idea why he was aroused. She looked into his eyes a few times. For a second, he thought the nurse was smiling. It looked like this is what she wanted to do. That's what his libido thought, anyway. He was horny.
She applied the adhesive diaper tapes from the back and connected them to his front. She made sure the tapes were nice and tight. The nurse went as far as to rub his crotch, just to make sure the diaper was on and it was a good fit. At the end of his diapering, Robbie felt energized. He quickly squeezed his diapered crotch when the nurse wasn't looking. As she left the room, the nurse bid Robbie goodnight and closed the door. He could barely keep his composure. The sexual adrenaline running through his body kept him from sleeping, but it also distracted him from the pain. He even forgot that he was going to have surgery the next day. Because he was erect for several hours, he was unable to pee. The pressure was mounting. He was getting uncomfortable. By two in the morning, he couldn't take it anymore. He flooded his diaper. He felt his piss making the diaper heavier. It felt so warm and assuring. The diaper seemed to be getting thicker. He peed so heavily that some of his urine trickled down to his sack, and cradled it like a warm embrace. The absorbant core couldn't handle so much at once.
Once he was done wetting himself, Robbie took a few deep sighs of relief and fell asleep. He pulled up his top sheet and tried looking at his diaper. He was in disbelief that the bed remained completely dry. No signs of an "accident." Though he was in a hospital bed awaiting surgery the next day, he never slept better. He was fortunate to have been given the opportunity to wear diapers. It was something that helped him cope with the long road ahead. Eventually, he was able to recover and get back into the same shape he was in before the car accident. However, he couldn't part from the diapers no matter how hard he tried. He continued wearing them. Once he was able to live on his own, he made sure to wear as often he could. Eventually, it became a part of his life. He wore them 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Robbie explained to Mark that he confided to his current girlfriend that he wore diapers. Diapers became a part of his daily routine, and she had to be accepting of the fact if she wanted to keep the relationship steady. At first, she was abrasive about dating a man who wet and soiled himself. She eventually came around, he claimed.
"I think she was okay with it because she knew it made me happy, and that happiness goes a long way," Robbie told Mark. "In my opinion, she liked me being assertive, y'know? Taking action. Holding my ground. Leading the way. She liked the confidence. She accepted it and told me, 'As long as you respect my personal space, we're good.'"
"So you're saying that I should just barge in the house and say, 'Honey, I wear diapers,' and tell her to just deal with it?" Mark asked. "Sounds like fantasy-land."
"No. It's not like that. You don't need to say anything necessarily. You just need to be calm, assertive, and show you care for her feelings. You need to convey the message that this is something that you do, and it's not going to get in the way of anything. My girlfriend thought I wanted her to change me because I sometimes referred to her as 'mommy,' jokingly though. She thought I was going to bed in my smelly diapers. I worked out compromises, but I stuck to my M.O. overall."
"Any ideas on how I show off this swagger of yours?" Mark chuckled at his own question.
"Know this: be comfortable with yourself. A friend once told me that a woman loves a man who knows who he is. You said you wore diapers outside the house, right? Outside, I mean -- around your ranch?"
"Yeah. But Robbie, I am comfortable with myself. It's not like I dropped wearing diapers all together."
"You can say that, but it looks as though you're still hiding your true self away from the wife."
Mark looked down at the floor. "Well... Maybe so," he conceded. "So what do I do?"
For years, Mark tried to prove to himself -- and only himself -- that he was the carefree diapered cowboy on the ranch. He thought he was invincible, but that self-perception changed quickly after talking to Robbie. He wasn't invincible. He was merely being reclusive. He thought about the time he spent by himself, and realized that he was alone. Very alone. He didn't have the company that encouraged him to be who he wanted to be. The outdoors provided some comfort, though. But he saw the outdoors as merely an escape from being a husband. Ideally, he wanted to be in a situation where he could diaper up and walk around the house without his wife raising an issue with it. He wanted to have a few beers, kick his feet up on the footrest of his black La-Z-Boy reclining chair, and relax while watching football. He wanted to watch an entire game without interruption.
Robbie felt he had some power when Mark asked him for help. He thought of giving him some constructive advice, but he assumed that Mark was a "hands-on" kind of guy. Robbie advised Mark to be prepared for every possible situation before speaking to his wife. Robbie gave the example of diaper changes: would Mark be comfortable changing himself with his wife around? There was also an unanswered question of whether his wife would come around to changing him. Mark couldn't imagine Susan doing such a thing. But if he wanted it real badly, could he be comfortable enough with himself to ask for it, and not retreat if his request was rejected? To answer these questions, Robbie decided to run an experiment on Mark.
"Put on a diaper," said Robbie. "Put it on here in the living room. I'll help."
Mark was puzzled. "Why?"
"Don't tell me you went full chicken on me," Robbie teased. "I want to see if you can diaper up in front of someone else. Look for an open bag underneath the bed."
Mark was delighted to find the bag of diapers underneath Robbie's bed. It was the Attends Briefs that he recently gave to Robbie. After all these years of wearing diapers, Mark could never get tired of going through a bag of them and getting a whiff of that "new diaper" smell. This was the first time that he was going to diaper himself in front of someone, and he felt invigorated by it. Something about being diapered in the company of another diapered man was making him hot. It seemed gay. Yes, gay. It was frightening.
The situation seemed ridiculous at first. Mark was diapering himself as he laid on Robbie's living room floor. He was nervous and shaking at times. He felt his privacy was invaded by the peering eyes of his new, crinkly friend. Applying the diaper was taking a while because he did it with almost surgical precision. Looking at Mark with a concerned expression on his face, Robbie buried his forehead in his hand. Tsk-tsk-tsk, thought Robbie. He taunted Mark with a pitiful snicker. The big guy wasn't ready to deal with his wife. Robbie felt obligated to diaper Mark himself and get it over with. He sat on the floor and helped Mark put it on. Robbie connected the tapes from back to front. Everything was all set. Not much else needed to be done because Mark did most of the work. Mark stood up, feeling a little antsy about being in diapers with someone else, but was otherwise in a jovial mood.
"This is weird, but okay," said Mark with a faint chuckle.
"We're on the same boat." Robbie reminded him. He wasn't as uneasy about it as Mark.
"Hopefully a boat that doesn't spring any leaks," Mark joked. He walked around the apartment, listening to every crinkle. He pretended that the experience was akin to trying a new pair of shoes: there's nothing sexual about it. He didn't want to reveal to Robbie that he was deeply aroused. He was grateful that the thick diaper obscured his not-so-subtle bulge. Mark's conscience wanted to express outrage for, yet he found some peace. He didn't have to pretend that he was a macho roughneck anymore. After all these years, Mark was finally letting down his guard.
Robbie sat down on the couch and crossed his arms. "How's your bladder holding up?"
"I -- well..." The question stumped Mark for a moment. It was a question he wasn't comfortable answering right away.
"Don't have to answer. Just checking! Anyway, if you're going to be diapered around your wife, you have to be okay with the possibility that you might 'go to the bathroom' around her. If you show that you shy away from it, she might be put off. I wouldn't imagine being able to live with someone -- day in and day out -- who was so nervous all the time."
Mark formed an important question. Which was more important: heading back to the ranch and going back to the status quo, or opening up the door to something that could help him intertwine his diapered life with married life, and have him a happier man as a result? Mark sought to calmly answer the question, but he couldn't help but feel sexually tense. The sexual tension was like an unbreakable mental roadblock, and understandably so. Robbie was attractive, and that made matters worse. He looked over at Robbie. What was a faithful, married man to do?
He wanted to touch Robbie's diaper, and rub his crotch -- just to see what it felt like to rub another man's wet diaper. Robbie had wet while he conversed with Mark. Mark's inner-voice echoed in his mind as his arousal was intensifying. The voice told him that it must have been nice to wet that diaper. It must have smelled nice. Mark wasn't used to the pungent musk of another man, but Robbie gave Mark a hearty dose. Mark could feel his erection poking up against his diaper. What made matters worse, Mark felt his body was getting warmer with anticipation.
"You alright, Mark?" asked Robbie. He leaned back on the couch and looked at Mark inquisitively.
"Yeah, I'm good." Mark snapped out of his horny daze.
Robbie smiled. "If I had to guess, I'd say you're enjoying yourself."
Mark shrugged. "What can I say? I feel like I can be myself here. This is cool, man."
"Glad to hear it," said Robbie. He pat Mark on the shoulder happily. "So what's your story? You haven't said much about yourself."
Mark explained why and how he got into diapers. It was true that Mark got into diapers after having an embarrassing accident at the bar 20 years ago, but he revealed that he wore diapers sporadically over the years.
Mark had two brothers and a sister. He was the oldest sibling, and had access to diapers even after he was potty trained. As a young boy, he would wear them for convenience. Nothing more. When he wasn't able to put on diapers, Mark would do his business in the backyard like a housebroken puppy. If he wasn't able to get away with that, he would soil his pants -- but his parents did not find the practice to be as convenient as he did. He alternated between diapers, outdoor use, and pants-wetting. But it was diapers that ended up being the most practical and discreet in the long run.
Until he turned 10, Mark grew up in a small house with one bathroom. Between him, his siblings, and his parents, bathroom time was limited. He wore his siblings' diapers (his parents always purchased Huggies and Pull-Ups) and used them without hesitation. When he was done with them, Mark disposed his used diapers in the diaper pail. He was able to get away with it until all his siblings had grown out of diapers. At that time, he was no longer able to wear the baby sizes. Then his family moved to a larger home ten miles north, which had three bathrooms. He no longer had an excuse to wear diapers.
By the time he got his driving license at 16, he visited the local pharmacy as part of his weekly errands. One day, he stopped at the pharmacy to pick up his sister's cold medicine prescription. After wandering through the aisles looking for deodorant and shampoo, he came across adult diapers. It was a generic brand. It was love at first sight. He didn't think twice. He purchased the diapers, and hoped the cashier at the pharmacy wouldn't be suspicious. The cashier didn't say a word. He left the pharmacy, feeling like he just finished walking the tightrope. He was nervous, and drove straight home with the bag of adult diapers on his lap.
Given that several people lived in the same house as him, Mark was even more discreet about his diaper-wearing. He formed a plan. He packed the diapers in his backpack, and obscured them with textbooks. Before the first class of school started, he would walk into a restroom and diaper up. He was so excited about wearing diapers again that he would rarely use them during school hours. He would eventually find a problem with his plan: P.E. class. All the boys got changed in the locker room. His puffy, crinkly diaper was bound to be seen. It was mandatory to take showers after class. He did just that, but always had a towel wrapped around his waist. When he changed out of his P.E. uniform and back into his regular clothes, Mark did so by pulling his pants up while keeping the towel on. He would remove the towel once he was able to slip his pants on, tuck it underneath the towel, and remove the towel once the pants made it past his belly button.
But all good things come to an end. One day, Mark got caught. It felt like the worst day of his life. He entered the locker room after a two-mile run around the track field. He was exhausted, and undressed at a slower pace than usual. One of his classmates, a freshman, walked past Mark as he changed out of his sweaty P.E. clothes. The freshman noticed that Mark was wearing a diaper. There was no mistaking it.
"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed the freshman, who pointed at Mark's waist. "Guys, check this out. Markie is wearing a diaper!"
Mark tried to put his normal clothes on as soon as he could, but he was eventually surrounded. There he stood, wearing a thoroughly wet diaper. Panicking, Mark lied and said he wasn't wearing a diaper. It was underwear, he said, and he wasn't wet. It was "sweat." Mark was never a good liar.
His pants were down by his ankles. He was terrified. Kids pushed him. They laughed at him. He felt very helpless. He did what any scared, diaper-wearing high school sophomore would do. He wet his diaper in front of everyone. Drip, drip, drip. A puddle gathered by his feet. Mark looked down at the floor, watching the puddle grow as he grimaced. The coach arrived to break up the ruckus and ushered his classmates away. They quickly dispersed, but continued to laugh at Mark's misfortune. Despite having a leaky diaper, Mark pulled up his briefs and pants over it. He sulked out of the locker room, feeling like he had nothing else to live for. He knew people would start talking about it. He feared that his parents might find out. However, nothing did happen as a result of getting caught. Mark was very lucky that news of a stabbing on campus overshadowed talk about his unfortunate incident.
Later that night, he threw away his remaining diapers and vowed to never wear them again. To make up for the embarrassing scene in the locker room, he spent his afternoons working out at a nearby gym. After several months, he shed 24 pounds and gained some muscle in return. He wasn't going to let anyone push him around. He eventually joined the varsity wrestling team, and became very good at taking people down. He earned the nickname, "Skullcrusher," but a few of his teammates knew him by something else entirely: "Stinker."
Mark was diligent. He worked hard, studied hard at school. He excelled in wrestling, and graduated without anyone mocking him for what happened that fateful day in the locker room. Nobody really cared. Even if he did, it didn't matter anymore. His family was proud of him, and that's what mattered. He didn't think much about diapers until he started drinking with friends a few years later. On the night he wet his pants at the bar, he felt jolted by his humiliating experience in high school -- but by the time he had the wetting accident, he was able to control his surroundings better. He moved out of his parents' house and into an apartment. There, he was able to rekindle his relationship with diapers, and not be concerned with people looking over his shoulder. It was a dream come true, but when he met the love of his life, he had to adjust.
"You really put yourself through," Robbie told Mark.
Mark reviewed the past carefully before replying. "Yep. I did."
"But you're not going to stop wearing this time, right?"
"Right. No matter what..."
As he told the story, Mark felt calm. He felt like he was connecting with Robbie, and Robbie was listening. Mark realized something that was funny, but also profound. To him, wearing diapers was not a "convenience" or a fetish or a lifestyle. It was a philosophy. Diapers was one way of showing that one wasn't bound to the rules like, "You're only allowed to use the toilet if you want to answer nature's call." It was about letting go, and not having to fear the consequences once you do. It was about security: you always have something you can count on, yet you can live independently without having to be coerced to taking unnecessary detours. Mark's wife should be accepting of it, he concluded, as long as he was reasonable with his approach.
Mark felt his stomach pulling at him and gnawing away. He had to go. He thought about asking Robbie if he could use the bathroom, but he knew what Robbie would say. "Just stay here." He was going to use his diaper. It was that simple. Mark yawned and leaned back on the couch. He looked around the place, and started to imagine that he was back at his parents' old house. This time, he was an adult and the only one in the house. The light in the bathroom was on, but door was closed. He didn't care. Dressed in a navy blue t-shirt and diaper, Mark bent his knees and squatted down. He felt his diaper droop low with a familiar mass. He messed his diaper good. The relief was welcome. He rubbed the back of his diaper, feeling accomplished. The warmth in the back felt real nice. Naturally, he had to pee afterwards.
He completely let himself go. He liked being "dirty" without anyone else knowing. He liked feeling warm, especially with a full diaper. From the outside, the wetness creeped up the diaperfront slowly. The damp spot expanded very quickly because he was flooding the diaper and not holding anything back. The blue wetness indicators blurred, turning into mere colorful blotches. As he peed into his diaper, Mark grabbed his crotch and stroked up. He playfully grabbed onto his crotch, and pretended that he couldn't help but wet his diaper out of desperation. He peed so much that gravity started to pull his diaper down. He grabbed onto the elastic waistband and pulled the diaper back up. What a baby!
Back in reality, Mark had filled his diaper to max capacity as he sat on the couch. Robbie sat beside him, and rubbed the older man's diaper. Mark was breathing heavily, taking long and pleasant exhales. At this point, the message was loud and clear to Robbie: Mark was a true diaper boy. Every once in a while, Robbie had the inkling to seduce Mark. He was in the heat of the moment. He looked toward the future of his relationship with Mark. Having another diapered friend around had its benefits, but he knew that Mark had his wife to account for. If only Mark would take the next step, and give him a good time under the sheets. He was sweating profusely, just thinking about doing it with Mark.
"You don't have a girlfriend, do you?" Mark suddenly surmised.
"No," confessed Robbie.
"I could tell by the way you were rubbing me."
Robbie moved a few inches away from Mark. "You can't be gay in the Bible belt," Robbie cackled.
"It's alright. I'm kinda horny right now -- and up for anything, but I have to get home soon," said Mark breathlessly. "Susan is probably working where I am."
"Gotcha. Okay. Get yourself cleaned up, and let's keep in touch. Alright?"
The only struggle Mark had to deal with, now, was to drive home with a raging hard-on. He was looking forward to talking to Susan about it. For the first time in more than 30 years, Mark felt like a kid again: full of energy and optimism. He drove on the freeway, listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd's greatest hits. He turned up the bass, rolled up the windows, and sang with Ronnie Van Zant's lead vocals. It was a stunning shift in confidence from being the young boy haunted by the one thing that gave him comfort to being the no-nonsense diapered cowboy that truly refused to back down to anyone. He was ready to have the talk with Susan.
By the time he got home, it was nearly 6:30 PM, and dinner was about to be served. She prepared him a nice, home-cooked meal complete with rotisserie chicken, coleslaw, baked potatoes and gravy. As he walked in, Mark could smell it -- and it was heavenly. It felt like the red carpet was rolled out to him. Susan called his name from the kitchen and told him to "sit your ass down" jokingly. He did just that, and sat on his dining room chair with a not-quite-subtle, crinkled thud. The table was full of plates with food stacked high. Why go through all the trouble? Susan took off her apron, wiped her forehead, and sat down with a smile.
"Forget the Lord's prayer. I'm hungry!" said Susan.
Mark looked down at his plate and looked up at Susan. "So am I."
After a few minutes of eating quietly, Susan said to Mark, "Nobody spends more than four hours at Walmart. What's a girl to do when her man spends that time shopping?"
Mark laughed. "Seems like you were productive."
She nodded. "Well, I was antsy. I needed to do something with my hands instead of biting nails."
"Susan, you have nerves of steel. You don't bite your nails. What's going on?"
Susan put her forked down, took a sip of coke and looked at Mark. She rolled her eyes before staring at him from across the table. "Mark, I know."
"You know what?" Mark looked down at his plate and calmly cut his food.
"Come on, Mark. I know. I know about that silly little habit of yours."
Mark's heart skipped a beat. He sat frozen in his seat. "Is that so?" asked Mark. He wasn't completely sure what Susan was referring to.
"Yeah. I knew about it for a while, actually. Did it ever occur to you that wives tend to look at store receipts when their husbands go shopping? There's also the smell of baby powder... and the puffy waist..."
She knew. "Yeah. You got me," said Mark. He leaned over in his seat and smiled at Susan. "And?"
"You don't need to hide it from me, Marcus." She used his birth name. She only used his birth name when she was annoyed.
"You're right," he admitted. He stopped himself from saying anything else.
"Thank you for being considerate of me, though." Mark was surprised with her reaction.
"I should have told you. I'm sorry."
"Look, I don't know if it's medical or what, but I love you Mark. I think you're a good man, and I like that you're a little crazy. I didn't marry a boring man. That's a good thing. I'll try to deal with it, but if you want to wear diapers around here, you'll need to satisfy these conditions, okay? One, I am not going to have you sleeping with me in a wet diaper. It's a little weird for me, so you're on your own there. Two, be honest. It hurts my feelings when someone close to me is so damn secretive. I can take it. And three, if you're going to wear diapers, you better be willing to change someone else's."
Susan blushed. "I'm pregnant."
Mark stood up and jogged around the table to hug Susan. She wrapped her arms around her man and gave him a kiss on the lips. "Oh my God! This is just too cool!"
Susan chuckled. "I tried to find a way to talk about it, but when I found out about your habit, I knew that I had an opportunity to say something. But I'm not joking. You're going to change the baby. You're not off the hook."
Later that night, Mark told her everything. She wasn't completely ready for it, but Susan was grateful that he wasn't holding back. Mark held back on one detail, which was his relationship with Robbie. She didn't need to know about it, he thought. He told her about everything else. She was surprised about the depth of his diaper interest, and she commended him for balancing his priorities. She laughed about the fact that Mark wore diapers around the ranch. She was intrigued that Mark was able to shop online and have diapers delivered to the house without her knowledge. The details were surreal. The more she found out, the more she was concerned. Mark lived a double life, but fortunately it wasn't a life with someone else outside the scope of their marriage vows. Unfortunately, she was married to someone who potentially loved diapers more than her.
"This is a little nuts," she told Mark as she washed dishes in the kitchen.
"I know. I can imagine it's hard to wrap your mind around something like this."
"Gee, you think? My mind's telling me, 'Susan, you don't want to know about it. Things were good when it was out of sight, out of mind.'"
"I understand," he acknowledged.
"To me, it feels like this diaper thing is part of your identity. I appreciate that you're telling me all this now, but how can I be assured that you won't exploit my acceptance, and allow the interest to take priority over our marriage?" She placed her hand on her chest. "This is my heart. After hearing about your diapers, the natural thing -- for this heart to do -- would be to break. And yet, I love you. I really wish you told me sooner."
Mark took a deep breath. "I know. I'm conflicted too, but I know we can work it out. I'll work it out."
"Just thinking about it: the look, the smell. Everything about it. Before I thought, 'It might be cute,' but I'm not comfortable with it. The more I think about it, the harder it is for me to commit myself to accepting it. You know, I want you to be happy. I want to support you. I love you. We can work this out, right? I know you just said that you --"
"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Despite enduring the seriousness of the conversation, Mark was calm. He kept a stable, sane tone. "I can wear underneath clothes, and you wouldn't know. I can wear it sometimes. I don't wear all the time -- I mean, I thought about it from time to time, but I knew that would be a problem."
She shook her head and finished washing the last dish in the sink. "No, no. I think it's alright. It's just a lot for me to deal with. Can you me a favor, Mark?"
"Are you wearing one right now?"
"Take off your pants. Let's see how long I can stay in the same room with you before I start runnin'."
Mark carefully removed his pants. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped the fly, and tugged down his pants ever so slightly. He made sure to pull down his pants carefully so his underwear and diaper wouldn't come down with it. Once the pants were down to his ankles, Mark slowly pulled down his underwear. He stood in his thick diaper, which was dry. Susan looked down at the diaper and bit her lip. This was the first time she ever saw an adult diaper. This was the first time she saw an adult wearing a diaper. This was the first time she saw her husband of 15 years wearing a diaper. She was confused, felt disoriented, and at a loss of words. However, deep down inside, she liked the fact that Mark was unpredictable. What else was he capable of? Knowing was a risk, but a risk she was willing to take for her man.
"Can I touch it?" she asked squeamishly.
She felt the paper-like outer texture of his diaper. Susan felt the diaper's softness. It was surprisingly reassuring. Not a bad feeling. She wondered about rubbing him just to see what would happen. Squeezing his crotch, Susan searched for his member. She found it, though it was obscured with a few layers. He most certainly felt her squeeze. It was magical. He let her know it too. She squeezed his diapered crotch again. He was apparently hard. Okay, she was making progress. Little by little. Now that she knew about his diaper-wearing, nothing would be the same. A part of her wanted to go back to the life she had before, but another part of her wanted to explore and experiment with him. As far as Susan knew, she was getting turned on by it. Maybe not massively turned on, but turned on nonetheless. She knew that the relationship was going to need work, but she wanted to know what his plans were for the rest of the evening.
Susan was in bed with Mark a few minutes later. He rode her like a stallion who escaped from the stables and wanted to breed as soon as he could. Susan moaned loudly with intense pleasure. She held onto the sheets like she was on a wild rollercoaster ride. She moaned. And yipped. And hollared. Who would have thought that wearing diapers would turn him on, especially when she wore them. That's right. She wanted to wear one, and he didn't have to ask. Susan's curiosity got the best of her. He could barely put one on her because he was blinded with sexual adrenaline. When the diaper was on her, Susan felt like a child again. The idea of being "babied" was still a foreign concept, but it was still fascinating. She wasn't comfortable enough to actually wet it. But for Mark, seeing a woman in a diaper was enough for him to get intimate with her.
However, she liked calling him "daddy." That had a nice ring to it. After all, he really was going to be a daddy.
The sex lasted for almost an hour. Both were exhausted. They laid in bed, looking at each other. Susan asked if she was dreaming. Mark told her, "No." She was in disbelief. Her husband wore diapers, and he wore them without her knowledge for more than 10 years. The word "betrayal" came to mind, but Susan secretly enjoyed her husband being a "bad boy." In fact, she was grateful that he wasn't a "little Goodie Two Shoes." After being married to Mark for more than a decade, Susan appreciated that her husband was still an enigma -- and not the bad kind of enigma that led her to speculate about his fidelity. After everything was revealed -- the secrets, the truth -- the relationship remained intact. And diapers weren't such a bad thing, it turned out. After all, real cowgirls don't stop for bathroom breaks.
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Posted 14 February 2012 - 09:39 AM
"The Journey of a Thousand Miles, Begins With The First Step"
Posted 14 February 2012 - 11:20 AM
Posted 22 February 2012 - 07:29 PM
"We're shopping for the baby, not you," she muttered to Mark.
Mark shrugged. "I'm fresh out. Can you blame me, baby?"
Susan accepted Mark's unusual diaper-wearing habit. To help her accept it, she thought of it like this: Mark was on his "man-period." Before they hit menopause, woman have their periods -- and when they do, some buy pads. It's protection. It's a product that women are expected to wear during their time of the month, and men have to deal with it -- and that doesn't include the emotional and psychological problems that come with it. Unlike a period, which is a source of discomfort and inconvenience for women, adult diapers (for the recreational user, that is) is considered a convenience and generally satisfying. Mark was happy during his "man-period," and if he was going to wear diapers to protect himself, so be it. But like a period, Mark was only allowed to have his special fun once in a while -- and not make it an everyday thing. Mark reluctantly agreed, and life went back to normal for the Texan couple.
"I bought those for you," Mark said with a snicker. He pointed to the bag of diapers in the cart.
"Sure you did. It's like, 'Hey Susan, I bought this See's Candy gift certificate for you. Happy Valentine's Day!' Then you bring me the box of chocolates I bought. Surprise, surprise! There's nothing inside. The ring of chocolate around your face told me everything I needed to know."
"But it was so good!" he whined. "Wait a second. I did it for your own good! Yeah, that's it."
"I forgot you had Diabetes."
Susan thought Mark was also joking when he told her about one of his "ultimate sexual fantasies." He wanted Susan to wear diapers and enjoy it. It was one thing for Mark to derive satisfaction of wearing them, but if his wife took part in it, that would intensify the experience for him. He wanted nothing more than to sit with her in bed -- while the couple was diapered -- and play with her diaper. He wanted to tell her how "cute" it looked on her. He wanted her to struggle for a bit, complain about it, and get frustrated -- but she ultimately uses her diaper. He wanted her to feel humiliated over the experience. He hoped that Susan would fret as she wet herself with a loud hiss. Mark expressed interest in her peeing with a full bladder, and completely emptying it into her diaper.
As a church-going conservative woman, this was too much for Susan to process. There were times when she didn't want to hear about it, and asked him to keep his interests to himself. But every time she tried to not think about it, Susan's curiosity grew. To Susan, diaper-wearing felt more like a morbid fascination than an interest that she begrudgingly accepted. From time to time, she saw Mark wearing diapers around the house and the ranch, but her first reaction was to look away and close her eyes -- but when she did, she imagined him in wet diapers and acting like a big baby. She dismissed her overactive imagination, and chalked it up to excitement over being a mother for the first time.
"Okay, I presume you're an expert on the subject," said Susan as she wandered into the baby diaper aisle with Mark by her side. "What's the best brand? I'm sure you've tried them all."
"Ha-ha. Very funny." Mark's sarcastic tone got Susan laughing. But then he turned the tables. "Actually, Pampers are the best. They're comfy."
She tilted her head and looked at him bug-eyed. "Shit! Shouldn't have asked you."
Mark began laughing hysterically. "No, no. I don't wear those. I'm a big guy, big waist."
"I don't know if I can believe you anymore."
Susan pushed her shopping cart further up the aisle, leaving Mark to chase after her. "Oh c'mon, Susan!"
Robbie, who was sweeping the floors nearby, overheard the conversation between Mark and Susan. He smiled. Robbie was genuinely happy for Mark, but he wanted to spend a little more time with him. There weren't a lot of diapered gay men in Texas. Then there was Mark, who was clearly flexible, but married. And the married men are always the most desireable. He didn't want to be the source of any friction within the couple's relationship, but he knew the opportunity to play with Mark was fading fast now that his wife was pregnant with their first child. He was going to be busy. Very busy.
There was some good news for Robbie. Mark called Robbie shortly after Susan announced she was pregnant, and told him that he would have some free time on the weekends to spend some time with his friends. Susan was aware that Mark spent time diapered around the ranch. Mark also told her that he spent time with his drinking buddies at the local bar. It wasn't a problem for Susan as long as he wasn't "monkeying around" with someone else. Robbie was aware of that condition, and promised not to be sexually aggressive around Mark. Robbie understood that Mark was walking on a moral tightrope. All it would take is a small push, and he'd fall.
Mark and Susan packed up their car with their supplies, and drove out of the Walmart parking lot. Susan couldn't stop thinking about her husband wearing diapers. It was bizzare. There were times she hoped that it was all one elaborate joke, but it wasn't. As she sat in the passenger seat of their 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee, Susan looked down at Mark's waist. Mark's waist was clearly expanded as a result of the diaper underneath his tight blue jeans. She bit her lip and quickly turned away from her husband. She looked straight ahead at the road in front of them.
"Are you wet?" Susan asked Mark.
Mark didn't know how to answer that question. "I thought you weren't interested," Mark muttered.
She crossed her arms. "No, I -- well, I'm curious."
"Curious, you say?" said Mark. He flashed a smile.
"Wipe that silly smirk off your face. Don't get the wrong idea."
Mark paused and sighed. "Yes, yes I am."
"Yes, meaning you're wet?"
She shook her head, and chuckled pitifully. "You're nuts!"
"Isn't that obvious?" he retorted.
"You don't, well... poop yourself, do you?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Sometimes, but not publicly." Mark spoke with some sober assurance.
"I don't know, Mark. I can accept it, but I sure as Hell don't understand it."
Mark tried to explain it to Susan a number of times, but she could not relate to it. He convinced her to wear diapers only once, and she couldn't feel what Mark felt. She couldn't understand it. Wearing diapers was very unusual, very foreign. At the time, she wasn't able to wet her diaper. It stayed on for the rest of the night, and she used the bathroom once she woke up the next morning. He was clearly disappointed, but he understood. There was going to be a long road ahead, and the least he could do was be honest -- just not too honest. What happens in the diaper stays in the diaper. He could tell that by acknowledging he was wet in the car, he potentially repelled her. He kept quiet until they got home and unloaded the SUV.
He helped put all the supplies away, but took the recently purchased bag of diapers to a hall closet across from one of his bathrooms. Mark hid his stash there, but it became increasingly difficult to hide all of it: there were shelves full of large, folded diapers. They were all neatly stacked and stuffed in shelves underneath unopened diaper bags. Since he opened up about his diaper use to his wife, Mark shelled out hundreds of dollars to have a large inventory. He didn't want to worry about running out for the next several months after the baby is born.
As he put the diaper bag away, he heard Susan shout to him from the kitchen, "At least I can keep the toilet seat down."
Mark replied, "See? It does have its benefits!"
It appeared that everyone could get on with their lives. Mark felt like he could be himself in moderation, at least. It wasn't a problem for him -- but he always needed to keep in mind that he was obligated to maintain a delicate balance between his diapers and his marriage. He strongly believed those two things could be intertwined if he was able to not disgust his wife -- and he knew there would be complications similar to what he experienced after putting away the diaper bag.
Mark had to pee again. He helped himself to a large soda, and drank it while he drove back home with Susan in the car. He didn't expect the need to go again so suddenly. His bladder was getting full, but so was his diaper. He wet his diaper two hours earlier, and was in dire need of a change. Since he started wearing diapers on a near-24/7 cycle, Mark wasn't able to tighten his bladder muscles as well as he used to. He had to go, and it couldn't wait. He stood in the hallway, flooding his diaper uncontrollably. The warm diaper was getting warmer and so much heavier than before. Mark held onto his crotch instinctively out of hope that he wouldn't leak. Suddenly, he felt some dampness around the palm of his hand. He was leaking. He cursed himself for not wearing any plastic pants.
As things were off to a decent start between him and Susan, Mark realized that he needed to be more cautious about how his habits. This time, he wasn't paying attention. While Susan called out his name, Mark walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and removed his jeans. The jeans had a very noticeable stain that he didn't want Susan to know about. He quickly removed his boxer-briefs, which were also damp. Two out of two. Finally, he got to his wet diaper. He looked down and noticed that a small stream of urine was trickling down from the leg gathers. He cursed himself again. Shit!
"Are you alright in there?" asked Susan, who stood outside the bathroom door.
In an exasperated tone, Mark replied, "Yes, I'm fine."
"Doesn't sound like you're 'fine,' Mark."
"No, I'm good."
Susan took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was going to say something that she might regret later. "Do you need a change?"
There was silence. Mark looked around the bathroom nervously. He didn't bring a fresh diaper with him in the bathroom so he wasn't able to change himself there. "I -- I don't know, hun," Mark stuttered.
Susan opened the bathroom door suddenly, and saw Mark standing in the middle of the bathroom with a wet diaper. Susan crossed her arms and licked her lips. It was an unusual sight for sure, but she tried to make the best of it. "Well, that's something," she cackled. "Tell you what... I need practice. I mean, changing diapers. Okay, my mind is fighting me on this. 'No, Susan! Don't do this! This is weird!' Yeah, brain, it is weird, but I think I can handle it..."
Mark chuckled softly. "It's alright. I can take care of this," he told Susan.
Susan smiled. "If you're going to wear diapers around me, I believe I'm entitled to some fun at least."
Mark told her where the diapers were. She picked out one from the hall closet and asked him to follow her into their bedroom. She took out a towel from their master bathroom and laid it on the floor. Mark got on the floor, laid on his back, and hiked up his waist. He gave her instructions on how to change him, and assured her that everything was going to turn out fine.
She undid the diaper tapes, moved the front part of the diaper away from his crotch. She was amazed at how heavy it felt. He wet the diaper extensively, and on the inside it was completely yellow. Mark forgot to mention to her that he usually applies baby powder on himself, but it wasn't a big deal this time because he would take a shower later. She removed the diaper from underneath him, and carefully slid the new diaper on. Susan waved her hand dismissively at Mark and told him that she could "figure it out." She connected the back of the diaper to the front, applied the tapes carefully. Concerned that she may have done a sloppy job with the tapes, she refastened them.
"You're doing good," Mark told her. He remained calm and encouraging, which took Susan by surprise.
"Thanks. This isn't so bad."
"It's not. Then again, you know... with a baby, you don't know what you're gonna get. It's not like the baby's going to tell you, 'Hey ma! I just added a few loafs in my pants. Change me! Do it woman! Chop-chop!' This is just the dress rehearsal."
"I think that maybe, just maybe that people are more accustomed to changing a baby than a grown man. I just wanted to see what it would be like to change someone."
As she finished changing him, Mark sat up. He leaned over to give her a kiss on the lips. He smiled warmly. "You did good. I shouldn't expect being changed by you again any time soon, right?"
Susan rolled her eyes. "Dream on."
Susan didn't attribute any significance to changing Mark, but Mark did. He felt like he could be himself around the house more. For the first time in months, he was able to have a diaper change without experiencing the knee-jerk reaction of arousal. He felt the interaction between him and Susan was a strictly intimate one, and it didn't need to have any sexual undertones. After he was changed by Susan, Mark let out a sigh of relief. He knew that there would be a long road ahead of him -- and it wasn't just about seemlessly incorporating diapers into his everyday life. There was a baby on the way. He was going to be a father. He had to transition from being the lone diapered cowboy to being a responsible dad. When the sexual euphoria wore off, Mark found himself back in the world of reality and realistic expectations.
Two months later, Mark found out that he was having a boy. He looked at the ultrasound screen in the hospital and saw his son laying there so peacefully. He couldn't believe that he was going to be a father. He was overjoyed. While he was celebrating the fact that he was going to have a son, Mark's cell phone rang. He briefly left the examination room and took the call. It was Robbie. He wanted to check in with his friend to see how things were progressing. Mark spoke to Robbie like he was an old friend so that Susan wouldn't be suspicious.
"Can you believe it? A boy!" said a very chipper Mark.
"That's awesome, Mark. Congratulations!"
"Yeah. I'm at the hospital at the moment with my wife. Can I call you back in an hour tops?"
"Sure, sure. Talk to you later."
Mark walked back into the room, put the phone in his pocket and spoke to the physician briefly.
"Who was that?" asked Susan, who felt slighted by Mark for taking the call during what she felt was a momentous occasion.
"Oh! Friend of mine from work. I told him the good news."
As she sat on the exam room table, Susan smiled at Mark. "Great. I want the whole world to know."
Back at his apartment, Robbie put his phone away and set it on the coffee table in the living room. He walked around aimlessly in a white t-shirt and diaper, wondering about his relationship with Mark. It sounded like Mark was distracted -- and understandably so. Still, Robbie wanted to have one more chance to spend time with Mark before the baby arrives. Robbie was lonely, and the cynicism of never finding someone compatible with him was quickly manifesting. Instead of wandering around his place with concern, Robbie went to his computer, logged on the Internet, and searched to see if there were any adult babies or diaper lovers in the area. No results. It wasn't looking good.
Things didn't go according to plan, but Robbie was realistic. It was possible that he could see Mark again, Robbie thought, if he wasn't pushy. He just had to wait. Robbie believed he helped Mark come out of his diaper closet, and speak to Susan about it. While that crippled his supposed power over Mark, Robbie figured that he would come back. There was going to be a slip-up. Revealing a secret kept from a spouse for several years was going to have some drawbacks. And Robbie would seize his chance. Maybe the chance would come sooner than he expected.
Susan looked at the couples bank statements. She sat in the dining room, and read the statements carefully. She always left it up to Mark to do the banking and accounting -- but now that she knew Mark bought plenty of diapers over the years, she reviewed recent transactions. Mark spent at least $40 on diaper bags every two weeks. Sometimes he would buy cases, which would cost three times as much. The transactions seemed frequent, and the money from their savings was disappearing fast. How were they going to handle the financial burden of a baby with all these purchases? That question was on Susan's mind, and she wasn't pleased with the answer. They also had taxes and bills to pay.
She slowly removed her eyeglasses, placed them on the dining room table, and left. She confronted Mark, who was sitting on the couch, watching the television. He was shirtless, but wore his jeans and a diaper underneath. He appeared relaxed, but interested in the football game.
"Can we talk for a minute?" asked Susan with a biting tone. She crossed her arms as she looked down at Mark's bald head.
Mark turned his body around and looked up at Susan. She snarled at him. "Can it wait until halftime?"
"No, I want to talk now." She raised the bank statements in the air and pointed to them. "Care to explain this?"
Mark squinted to see what was on the sheets of paper she was holding. "Don't worry about it. I'm holding off on buying diapers for a long time."
"But you dropped hundreds and hundreds of dollars. This is our money. This is our joint account," Susan spoke tersely. "I wouldn't have cared if you... if you didn't buy so much. It's ridiculous!"
"Honey, I --"
"Don't 'honey' me." She pointed at him angrily. "This is no different than satisfying a crack cocaine addiction. Now we have to buy baby diapers. We're on the hook, now, for more expenses. How can I trust you to put a lid on your diaper-buying, especially with your spending habits? Come on. I knew these were diaper buys right away. You said you bought bags and cases often, but that much? Really? That much?"
"Susan, listen to me. My focus is on the baby. That's it." Mark raised his hands in the air. "I'm not going to argue with you about something that's now in the past."
"Excuse me, but I need to know a little about the past so I know what the future holds... for us," she snapped at him.
"You don't have to be so dramatic about it."
She shouted, "I wouldn't be so dramatic if you were honest with me, Mark. This is too much. I'm going to stay at mom's tonight."
Susan stormed out of the living room. The football game was no longer a suitable distraction. He turned off the television with a remote. He slid down the couch, looked up at the ceiling fan and cursed at himself. "I'm a fuckin' idiot," he told himself. He angrily elbowed the pillow behind his back, and suddenly threw it across the room. Right away, Mark knew that he was careless. It wasn't that he was hiding his spending from Susan. He always did the finances. She always cooked and cleaned. He was the one responsible for bringing in the money and managing it. It was always like that. He was extremely frustrated. He was hoping a long walk around the ranch would clear his mind.
Mark drove to a remote area of the ranch. He parked his truck adjacent to a small corn field, and walked about a mile up a service road. It was difficult walking long distances in a thick diaper because one tends to get a little sweaty between the legs, and the tapes don't usually stay on -- but he continued walking despite that. The only comfort he could find was the cowboy hat on his head, and that helped reduce his exposure to the sun. Truth be told, Mark wanted to take the diaper off and walk around without it on. For a while, the diaper felt like an unnecessary burden. For the first time since he was caught wearing diapers in high school, Mark thought about how absurd it was to wear them.
He wanted to talk to someone who understood what he was going through. He flipped his cell phone open and called Robbie. Mark paced back and forth as he spoke to Robbie.
"I feel bad about it," he told Robbie. "I forgot to tell her about how much I spent on diapers. She didn't realize the full extent of it."
Robbie sat on his bed and pressed the phone tightly against his ear. "You really should have been upfront with her about everything. When she finds out more about it, she's going to lose her trust in you."
"Jesus Christ! Are you free later?"
"Yep. It's my day off."
"How about we meet for a few drinks at Saddlebags around seven?"
"Okay. See you soon."
Mark arrived at the bar around a quarter to seven, and he got a head start with some drinks. He ordered the hardest liquor he could think of, and sat at the bar counter. He tried to relax, but couldn't. When he was done with a whiskey shot, he slapped the bar counter and buried his head in his hands. He was hoping that one shot would nullify his anger. It wasn't working. He ordered more. Then Robbie came in and sat at an empty stool beside Mark.
"Hey buddy, are you alright?" Robbie asked Mark.
Mark's vision was a little blurry. He already had one too many drinks. "S'that you, Rob?"
"Yeah, it's me. Looks like you knocked down a few before I got here."
"No shit, Sherlock," Mark muttered. "You know, I fucked up. Susan's pissed. I shouldn't have been --" He lost his train of thought.
Robbie pat the big guy on the back. "Take it easy, alright? I have faith things will work out for the best."
"How? Do you know... do you? I sure as Hell don't have a clue."
Mark was about to down another shot, but Robbie grabbed it. "Mark, come on. You've had enough. We're going to back to my place. I'll pay for this... Let's go."
Mark had downed countless drinks. He was so intoxicated that he couldn't walk. Robbie had to turn his body as a crutch for Mark, who was much bigger and stronger than he was. It was difficult to get Mark in his car, but it was fortunate that the bar was only a half of a mile away from his apartment. When he arrived with Mark, Robbie tried placing him on the couch. However, the big dude toppled over and landed on the floor. Mark landed on the floor with a loud thud like a cow who accidentally landed on his side. Mark muttered incoherently to himself and rolled onto his back. He looked up at Robbie and chuckled.
"Oops," said Mark. "I think I fell."
"No, really? I didn't notice." Robbie tried helping his friend up from the floor, but Mark waved him away.
"I got this." Mark tried to stand, but only managed to fall back onto the couch. "The legs don't work!"
Mark knew that he was back at Robbie's apartment, but it felt more cozy than usual. He wasn't home, and that was good. He could be himself. And so he did. He removed his shoes, socks, shirt, pants, and underwear. He was left wearing nothing but a diaper that was still dry. He was surprised that he was able to remove any of his clothes. Removing each article of clothing seemed more difficult and time-consuming this time around. He stood up from the couch, stretched his arms and yawned. With his legs feeling heavy, Mark flopped back down on the couch.
Robbie sat on a chair that faced the side of his living room couch. He studied his diapered friend closely. He was looking at someone who was clearly drunk and not worth touching. He felt that if he made any physical contact with the guy, it would seem inappropriate. In the back of his mind, Robbie was hoping to sit down and at least cuddle with Mark. It didn't have to get any more intimate than that. Just a little company. Previously, Robbie entertained the idea of having sex with his friend, but he felt guilty entertaining the notion in his presence. He genuinely felt empathy with Mark. He knew what it was like to not be forthcoming in relationships. Robbie paced around his living room, trying to figure out what he could say to Mark and what he could do to help.
Mark closed his eyes. He was tired. He wanted to fall asleep. He felt the rings and dry tears under his eyes. The circumstances behind his sadness seemed unclear to him at the moment he closed his eyes. Sitting mostly upright, Mark adjusted himself unsuccessfully -- and finally, he gave up his fight with gravity. He stretched his body across the couch and laid on his side. He was a little more comfortable in this position. He subconciously reached over to his diaper to give it a long, forceful squeeze. It felt so good. Robbie looked over and saw Mark grabbing himself in a partly suggestive way.
"You okay there, buddy?" asked Robbie.
"Yes sir... Yeah, good," Mark muttered back. "That's right."
Things quickly escalated. Mark gyrated his hips, and started moving them in a dry humping motion, but slowly. The big, hairy diaper-man was getting horny. It was clear to Robbie what was happening.
"Geeze. Cut it out." Robbie felt a little hot from watching Mark play with himself. He wanted Mark to stop, though, so his mind wouldn't be preoccupied with sexual desires that he barely kept under control to begin with.
"Stop what?" Mark was oblivious and still drunk.
"What you're doing."
"What am I doing?"
It was no point trying to reason with Mark. It was futile.
"Okay, you do what you want. I'm going to get some shut-eye early. If you need me, I'll be in bed."
The concern for Mark overwhelmed the sexual desire to be intimate with him. To Robbie, things seemed to spiral out of control for Mark -- and he felt partly responsible for it. He wanted to talk about Mark's situation with him more, but he was unable to. He also had work the next day, and was going to have an early morning shelf-stocking shift. He got undressed, and crawled into bed. He turned off the lights and closed his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about the older man who was getting off just outside his bedroom. It was odd. Then again, wearing diapers for recreational use was odd. Still, Robbie felt uneasy about what was going on in the living room.
Mark suddenly opened the bedroom door. Robbie's eyes opened wide as he laid on his side. He flipped onto his back, turned on the lamp beside him and sat up in bed.
"What's up, Mark?" asked Robbie with some hesitation.
Mark looked at Robbie with a puzzled look on his face. "I think I... I think that I want to..." Mark tried to form a coherent statement, but was unable to. He looked at the bed.
Robbie followed Mark's eyes over to a spot beside him in bed. "You want to sleep here?" he asked Mark.
"Y-Yeah. That would be great."
Without another word from Robbie, Mark slid into bed beside him and pulled up the blanket. Mark turned to his side that faced Robbie, who continued to sit up in bed. "I got a shift tomorrow morning -- not that you would care since you're obviously drunk. Also, I'd never imagine in a million years that I would have a married man sleeping with me in the same bed. It's just like -- I don't know. It's crazy. Anyway, get some sleep."
Robbie turned off the lamp. The room was dark. Mark could be heard groaning in bed and moving around. Robbie was silent. He felt Mark's diaper graze against his own from the back. Robbie felt Mark rubbing his shoulders very slowly and seductively. He wanted to rise up from his bed and tell Mark, "No! Absolutely not!" but he went silent. It felt comforting. Mark was like a giant, diapered teddy bear who could never turn down a cuddle. As tired as he was, Robbie wasn't going to fall into a false sense of security. He knew Mark was horny and wanted some action. Again, Robbie didn't object. But there was the moral dilemma: could he live with himself for having sex with a seemingly straight, married man? His consciousness objected, but his heart wanted it. Robbie found making the choice to be difficult; more difficult than he could ever imagine.
"Go to sleep, Mark." Robbie had to ignore the will of his erection.
"Come on, Robbie. Just go with it."
"What about your wife?" Robbie blurted out.
"I don't deserve to be around her," he said while his voice trembled with emotion.
Robbie snapped, "You do! You just have to be a man about it. Goodnight, Mark."
Robbie was caught in a confluence of emotions. As a friend, Robbie felt sympathy for Mark and his situation. As a lover, Robbie lusted for Mark. He had a thing for larger, older men who were sexually aggressive and open for experimentation. The fact that Mark crawled into his bed showed the intent to make the relationship more significant than simply "friendship." However, Mark really had no specific intent to have sex with Robbie. It was true that Mark thought about it a few times, but when he was sober and clear-minded, there wasn't any question: he valued his marriage to Susan. In his drunken state, all Mark wanted was to relieve the pressure mounting in his loins. Mark was operating on an unadulterated sexual thrill. He was too drunk to differentiate between making the moral choice between right and wrong. He was simply trying to satisfy a natural urge.
Without thinking twice about it, Robbie reached around to feel Mark's diaper. Mark was wet. His crotch felt warm. When he touched Mark's diaper, he caught a whiff of a very heavy, damp musk. It was a very inviting scent. Mark muttered, "I've been a bad boy, haven't I?" when Robbie got around to feeling his friend's diapered bulge. Mark was hard. Very hard. The tension couldn't be ignored now. The least Robbie could do would be to change Mark.
Robbie got out of bed and fetched a diaper for Mark. When Robbie helped put a diaper on Mark the last time they were together, there wasn't as much on the line. Now, there was more to take into account. Robbie did not want to be the one who got in the way of someone's marriage. He didn't want to be the "lover," the third wheel. At the same time, Robbie wanted that intimacy and companionship with another diapered man: something that he wasn't able to achieve in state that frowned on homosexuals and their "devious lifestyle." Then came Mark, who brandished a nice shiny ring on his finger, but he showed a certain willingness to bend the rules. Now, it was a matter of instinct. Since he was conflicted, Mark decided to make a choice based on his instinct -- and changing Mark would buy him some time.
Mark laid on the bed, and an exhausted Robbie changed him. Given that Mark's diaper was fully loaded, Robbie wanted to take his time. Robbie undid the diaper tapes, but as he was about to strip the front of the diaper away from Mark's crotch, the big baby started to pee. Mark inadvertently urinated on Robbie's shirt. Right then and there, Robbie knew that Mark was completely and utterly inebriated. The man lost all control of his bodily functions, and he seemed unaware that he was peeing his diaper in mid-change. Despite getting frustrated with Mark for a split-second, Robbie sighed heavily. "I can't stay mad at him," Robbie said to himself. "He's cute."
Though the tapes were undone, Robbie placed the diaper directly above Mark's member until he finished. Robbie continued changing him as if nothing happened. Robbie pulled the old diaper out from underneath Mark and applied some baby powder. He noticed that Mark had actually fallen asleep. It was harder to change someone who was asleep. Robbie made sure to powder him good and make sure went all over the waist. With his fingers, he spread the powder around Mark's crotch. "I'm glad he's so cooperative," said Robbie in a sarcastic tone. By the time he put a new diaper on Mark, Robbie had trouble keeping his eyes open. He let Mark stay on the bed: laying on top of his blanket. Robbie gave Mark a kiss on the forehead and was finally able to go to sleep shortly after that.
Morning came quickly to Mark. It was 7:47 AM. Mark found himself in Robbie's apartment, and he had no idea how he got there. The last thing he remembered was being at the Saddlebags bar, waiting for Robbie to arrive. He figured that Robbie brought him back to the apartment. When he woke up, he first looked at his diaper. It was dry. Robbie must have changed him, he surmised. When he tried to get out of bed, Mark was stricken with the classic hangover headache. He fell back onto the pillows and looked up at the ceiling. He called out Robbie's name, but nobody answered. Robbie left for his shift two hours earlier, and Mark was left alone.
Mark wandered into the living room, and found a handwritten note on the couch. It read, "Mark, hope everything is OK. I brought you back here. Seems like you blacked out. Didn't realize how heavy you were. Have you ever considered Jenny Craig? I had to leave for an early morning shift, but feel free to make yourself at home. My shift ends at noon, so I'll be able to pick you up, and drop you off at the bar. See you later - Rob."
The hot shower was something Mark desperately needed. He had trouble shaking out the cobwebs. Once out of the shower, Mark stood in front of Robbie's bathroom mirror and gave a long, hard look at himself. Mark Camus no longer had the muscles that he once gained when he was in high school. He was bald, chubby, scruffy, and lost in his desires. He looked at his diaper, which felt like a nuisance to wear. He pulled down the diaper and stood naked before the mirror. Mark posed and flexed for his amusement. He smiled a little. This was the first time, in a while, that he looked at himself without a diaper on. He felt free. He didn't feel held back. In fact, it felt liberating. As far as Mark was concerned, the 24/7 diaper cycle was over.
After Robbie came back from his shift, he picked up Mark and took him back to his car, which was still parked in the Saddlebags parking lot. Mark drove back home, feeling somewhat lighter than usual. When he arrived, he reached for his keys and attempted to unlock the door, but his wife opened it. Susan, who had makeup running down her eyes, sniffled as she looked at Mark. She licked her lips and looked at Mark quietly for a few seconds. Mark stood in the doorway with his hands buried in his jean pockets. He looked beat up, and Susan saw that. She could see in his eyes that he was repentant.
"I changed my mind about going to mom's," said Susan.
"And I changed..."
Susan chuckled. "Stop right there. I shouldn't laugh at that. I'm supposed to be upset."
Mark sighed and told her, "You have every right to be." Mark looked at his hands. "I screwed up. I didn't expect this to run my life. It started as a 'convenience' thing, you know? Then it became something more. I like wearing, sure, but the fact is: I'm going to be a father. I have to do things in moderation."
"Come on in." Susan opened the front door a little wider.
As he walked in, Mark looked around the house like he was a guest in his own home. "I thought you were going to kick me out and change the locks," he told her.
Susan stood beside Mark and rubbed his hand. "No. Everyone has their vices. Everyone sins, and if someone tells you they never did, they're liars. Everyone has their habits. I know I have mine. Before I met you, when I was 16, I took up smoking. And everyone did it at school if they wanted to be 'cool.' I didn't want to be the red head with braces who was going to be a wallflower at my senior prom. I took up smoking, joined the cheerleading squad, and decided to be 'cool.' That is, I was going by what others thought was 'cool.' Then I couldn't stop smoking. I exercised, tried the patch, and tried quitting cold turkey -- but that didn't go anywhere. Then I thought, 'Okay. Life's too short. I like the nicotine.'
"Until you came along, the guys I dated were tired of me having a smoke every five minutes. They took it personally because they felt I preferred the cigarette over them -- and I was like, 'No, no, no. That's not true. I really do care about you, but...' They'd cut me off and walk away. I was shattered over that. Just shattered. I was going to tell them that it was just a habit of mine and it had nothing to do with whether I liked being with them or not. Then I met you. You didn't care that I smoked. Eventually, I quit. Sometimes, though, I just want one puff to calm my nerves. Today, after I thought about everything, I did just that. I lit up. It was good, but I knew that I didn't have to do it all the time. Mark, I get it."
Mark relaxed his shoulders and squeezed Susan's hand. "I should never take for granted that you understand me."
"It's all about adjusting. And hey, we got a baby on the way. There's a whole lot of crazy going on, and I want you to stay put."
Mark dodged a bullet. He had to first overcome the obstacle of telling his wife that he wore diapers. That proved to be a little problematic, but acceptance eventually came. Then Susan found out how much he spent on diapers. She wasn't sure that Mark wouldn't put his habit aside so he could focus on the baby. Mark was fortunate that the relationship didn't end there. Susan was a strong woman. She could have left him during any part of the transition when their relationship was vulnerable, but she didn't. He was not used to having second and third chances, so he made sure to take advantage of the opportunity to make things right.
"I'm not wearing a diaper right now," volunteered Mark, who pointed to his waist.
"Alright, but if you wet yourself, I'm not going to do the laundry. That will be your job."
Susan was still unaware of her husband's relationship with Robbie. Mark, himself, wasn't even sure what kind of relationship he had with Robbie. Were they friends? Playmates? Or something more? He was unaware of what happened the night before. When he woke up the next morning, he felt sweaty, overheated, and his joints were throbbing with some pain. He knew that Robbie changed him, but that's all he knew. Robbie was tight-lipped about what happened. He speculated about the events that transpired, but only when he was alone with his thoughts. Why was Robbie smiling when he drove Mark back to his car? Why did he have that twinkle in his eye when Mark asked him about the night before? Mark knew he had to get these questions answered.
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Posted 01 March 2012 - 02:50 AM
While sitting up in bed, Susan shot back at Mark, "Now I have two boys who aren't potty-trained."
Mark stuck out his tongue and rubbed the baby's forehead gently. He gave Frank back to Susan. The first thing Mark wanted to do, as soon as he handed over Frank, was to drive home and get his son situated in the house. But mommy and baby needed to stay at the hospital overnight before they were discharged. Not a problem, thought Mark. He spent the time daydreaming about taking his son around the ranch in diapers. He would wear a cowboy hat, and get a smaller one that matched and fit on top of Frank's head. He wanted to teach Frank how to fish, how to swim, and how to be an outdoorsman like his pappa. He wanted to teach Frank all these things, though he was only a few hours old.
By nine in the evening, Mark drove back to the house and made sure the place was ready for the new arrival. The spare bedroom they had was turned into a bright blue-themed nursery that had all the bells and whistles: a large, white crib surrounded by a toy chest, a small drawer of baby supplies, and a closet stuffed with clothes. He looked in the nursery to see that everything was in good shape. He opened up the door to his hall closet, which was immediately next to the nursery, and looked inside. There were two separate drawers: one that included Mark's diaper stash and the other that contained his son's stash. The inside of the hall closet looked like he ransacked a Babies 'R Us delivery truck. It was a surreal sight. Nonetheless, all of it made sense. He vowed to not make his own diaper-wearing a constant habit. There was going to be some checks and balances in the house, and to keep his nose clean, he had to abide by them.
A day later, Frank was brought home. The healthy baby boy laid in his crib for the first time, and looked around with one eye open. Mark wanted to buy his son a tiny eye patch and call him a pirate. Susan looked over the crib and smiled. "He's really something, isn't he?" she said to Mark. "He's so cute 'cause he doesn't look like you at all."
Mark rolled his eyes. "Oh for the love of... shut up!" he playfully moaned.
His mind was racing. He was on an adrenaline rush of fatherhood. And yet, there were things left unresolved. Robbie called to congratulate Mark. The call served as a reminder of a relationship that needed to be thoroughly identified. He loved his wife very much, and was extremely supportive of her during the pregnancy. But Mark felt that Robbie was there as someone that helped buffer the stress. But since the baby arrived, Mark knew that he had to dedicate himself to Frank as a full-time job. But Mark wouldn't rule out having a break once in a while.
While the baby was crying, Mark fell back on his bed and spread his arms wide. He was developing a headache, and wasn't able to think clearly. Earlier, Susan complained that she was experiencing a headache, and told Mark, "We got a long road ahead, don't we?" The new father honeymoon was over. Reality was beginning to sink in. It was approaching ten in the evening, and it felt like it was two in the morning. Both Mark and Susan were exhausted. It appeared that the whole diaper drama was behind them -- for the most part, at least. Obviously, the diaper-wearing wasn't as frequent of an occurrence before Frank was born. There wasn't much to talk about between the couple except for issues like, "Who's gonna change the baby?" and "When does he stop crying?"
By one in the morning, Mark and Susan were able to drift into sleep when suddenly, Frank started crying. Susan tried pushing Mark's body out of bed, telling him, "It's your turn. No compromises." He rolled out of bed and slowly walked to Frank's bedroom. In his boxers, Mark stood in front of the crib and saw Frank opening and closing his tiny hands. The baby boy was crying and sniffling. Mark picked up the baby and noticed that he needed a change. Mark put the baby down, and went to his hall closet where he now had a wide selection of diapers to choose from. He stood in the hallway and rubbed his chin. "Okay, maybe just for tonight," he thought.
Mark brought into Frank's room two diapers: one for the baby and one for him. He changed Frank, and was getting faster at it. It was like second-nature. He mused that it was easier to change someone else than it was to change himself. When he finished changing Frank, Mark started diapering himself. He whispered to Frank, "Hey buddy, if I get too old and have a retirement home nurse change my diapers, pull the plug!" He chuckled softly. "Except, of course, if the nurse is hot. Then you can hold off on that."
He got down on the floor of Frank's room and diapered up. It felt natural for him to do that. He could smell the baby powder. He could see that he was in a baby's room. There were some toys in a nearby chest. Everything in the room was simple in appearance. It all reminded him of a time when he was young. When Mark was a toddler, he felt protected when he was confined to a festive baby room with bright pastel-color walls. There were the glow-in-the-dark stars, toy airplanes that dangled from the ceiling by a thin shoestring. The rest of the world was outside the door, but inside the room, he was king. At 45, Mark could appreciate the feeling surging through his body. There was a warmth generated from reminiscing about the past. As he sat on the floor, Mark looked around from a toddler's perspective and felt a sense of relief.
"Gosh, I wish I had a room like this. You're a lucky kid, Frank."
Then he remembered the rule that Susan gave him: no going to bed in diapers. He was about to walk back to his bedroom until he remembered her rule. He decided to close Frank's door, take a spare blanket tucked inside the room closet, and sleep on the floor for the rest of the night. So he did -- and he didn't mind one bit.
Morning came quickly. The sun shined through the window in Frank's room. The baby was awake and alert, but quiet and looking inquisitive in his crib. There, on the floor, was Mark sleeping comfortably beside Frank's crib. Susan opened up the door and stood in the doorway with a bathrobe on. She smiled and snickered when she spotted her husband in a diaper. "Okay, so I have two babies. Not one. Fine by me," she thought before closing the door and letting them snooze for a while.
She couldn't resist her feelings about Mark any further: she thought he looked cute in diapers. She thought it was strange for her spouse to wear them, but it was no different than living with someone who required diapers for medical reasons. Combined that with the fact that they had a baby to take care of, Susan felt at ease. She accepted that her family was strange, but something about that strangeness was refreshingly unique. There was a certain innocence that came from being infant-like. Yet the infantile behavior wasn't as intrusive as a lifestyle choice. She was concerned that Mark would get lost in the diaper fascination, and wind up destroying the marriage over it. Susan saw that Mark was willing to compromise. The concern was starting to melt away.
To Mark, there was nobody as kind as Susan. He didn't know any woman who would put up with their man if he wound up wearing diapers. No way. It was inconceivable. He attributed Susan's acceptance to the patience of a saint. He gave her a few opportunities to walk away from him for good, but she stayed. It was a testament to the strength of their bond. He wasn't going to mess with success. However, Robbie remained in his orbit of thought. He was no longer thinking of having a sexual relationship with him. He thought of Robbie as someone who allowed him to be more "involved" with diapers. There were no rules, no conditions, and nobody was around to tell him "no."
Robbie noticed that Mark made fewer shopping trips to Walmart. Standing behind the checkout counter, Robbie looked around, hoping that Mark would walk in and say, "Hello!" He rarely showed up -- and when he did, Mark would arrive when Robbie wasn't on his shift. When days were slow, Robbie thought about the night they had. His mind went back to when a drunken Mark rubbed his shoulders in bed and tried coercing him into sex. Robbie felt he did a good thing by resisting Mark's advances, but the resistance sharpened his sexual appetite. He had a few regrets about that night. He thought of an alternative scenario, which had Robbie consenting to absolutely evening. What a night that could have been! He could have lied to Mark the next morning, and deny that anything happened.
With the fantasy actively playing in his mind, Robbie clocked out for lunch and spent 30 minutes masturbating furiously in the men's room. He locked himself in a stall; he jerked himself with the diaper on. He could feel his heart beating like it was trying to leap out of his chest. Thump-thump-thump. Sweat was dripping from his forehead. He imagined Mark on top of him in bed, ravaging him with blind, sexual rage. The fantasy was so vivid, he could feel the jolt of intense pleasure spreading through his body. His cheeks turned red. He was getting hot. The temperature in the restroom felt a lot warmer than it actually was. What got him hot was the image of being dominated by a big, dirty-diaper pig. Then, a few sudden throbs, and he ejaculated into his diaper. He created a sweet, sticky glaze that made him feel "naughty."
"Much better," Robbie muttered to himself as he left the restroom. He was back in his work clothes. His face was beet red as if he just finished first place in a marathon race. The sexual encitement faded after a while, but his drive soon transitioned into a calm desire to be with Mark. He tried to reason with himself, thinking that it was Mark who wanted to engage in intimacy, not him. As far as he knew, Mark was the one who initially reached out to him and bought him a bag of diapers. It was obvious. Mark wanted to start something with him. Why should he care about Mark's relationship with Susan? Robbie talked himself into inflated confidence. He was going to have his day with Mark -- and he swore by it.
Mark was having the time of his life; for there was a routine that developed between Mark and Susan. In the morning, Mark had fun with Frank in the mornings and he would take up for rides and walks around the scenic ranch. This bought some time for Susan to clean the house, run her errands, and prepare lunch in the kitchen with peace. When Mark returned to the house, Susan would prepare the family lunch. Everyone would eat merrily and go about their afternoon business. After lunch, Susan assumed the role of "mommy" and made sure to change both Frank and her husband. To Mark's surprise, it was Susan who presented the idea. She attributed the decision to simply being in a "motherly mood." Sometimes, this would help spark Mark's desire to make the evening a little more "worthwhile" for Susan.
When Mark wasn't in diapers, he'd help Susan with the laundry. He helped wash the clothes. She'd help dry them, and put them away. She joked about how she didn't have to worry about washing out the "skidmarks" on her husband's underwear. That sort of joking was more a kick in the gut than humorous, but he bit his lip and took the punches. For all the weirdness Mark put her through, Susan was more than entitled to dole out a beating or two about it. He wasn't as self-conscious as he used to be, but some words continued to embarrass him. Then again, he liked the humiliation -- and she knew it too. It became a sadistic game between the two. Sometimes, the playful teasing would wind up in public outings. One of Susan's favorite lines to Mark was, "Make that silly face for me. You know, the face you make when you wet yourself."
Then there were times when she wished he wore diapers. Since Mark started wearing diapers for recreational use, his bladder muscles weakened. He wet his diapers almost naturally and he rarely thought twice about it. However, there were times when he wasn't wearing diapers and had an "accident." One day, Mark and Susan drove to a family reunion picnic at a park located a few hours away from home. Susan introduced Frank to her relatives, and they were immediately awe-struck. The family complimented the baby's deep blue eyes, his glowing complexion, and his infectious smile. Mark was caught in the moment, telling his in-laws that he couldn't be happier. For the first time in years, he felt light on his feet and a joyful bounce in his step.
But his bladder was having none of it. While he was talking to relatives about life and his construction business, Mark started feeling some familiar warmth by his crotch. The moment he realized what was happening, Susan spotted the problem. A wet spot was growing and expanding down his left pant leg. Susan gulped nervously, squeaked, "Excuse me!" before grabbing her husband's hand and leading him to a nearby park restroom.
"Aw shit! I didn't know that I was --" He was petrified.
"What is wrong with you, Mark? Wait, I already know the answer." Even though she was embarrassed, Susan was able to crack jokes at her partially incontinent husband's expense.
"I didn't expect to wet."
Susan stopped in front of the park restrooms. "Alright. Do your business, and go wait in the car. I'll go get Frank. We probably should get going anyway."
She hurriedly turned away from Mark and walked back to the picnic. Mark bit his upper-lip. He looked down at his jeans. Fortunately, he was wearing dark blue jeans, which masked the full extent of wetness. None of his relatives knew he wet himself; only his wife knew. Nonetheless, he felt less of a man for wetting his jeans. It was the same kind of feeling that washed over him when he was drinking at the bar 20 years ago and the same thing happened to him. It was different when he wore diapers because nobody knew and it was easier to clean up. Without diapers as protective insurance, he felt vulnerable.
His bladder wasn't completely empty. He stood before the urinal and unloaded, but he only had a few drips left to spare. He soaked his pants. The only option he had would be to wait in the car until Susan arrived. He did just that. Mark sulked away from the picnic and got in the driver's seat. He waited patiently for Susan. It was 15 minutes since he left the bathroom. Since she was nowhere in sight, Mark decided to call Robbie and touch base with him. Meanwhile, Robbie was on his shift with his cell phone rang. He looked at his phone, and saw that Mark was calling. He told the manager that he was taking a quick 15-minute break. He answered the phone in mid-dash to the employee break room.
"Hey Mark, how's it going?" Robbie answered.
"You wouldn't believe this. I'm at this picnic, right? I'm showing off Frank with Susan and suddenly, I'm peeing my pants."
"Don't you always do that?" he asked Mark with a tired drawl.
"I wasn't wearing diapers when it happened."
Robbie perked his head up. "Why not?"
"I was with family. 'Sides, I'm trying to not make it a daily thing. It's for Susan's sake." He looked down at his crotch briefly.
"You must have been wearing for a while, though, if you actually had a wetting accident like that -- and not even know you were going."
"It was weird, man. I always had control before except when I was drunk. Now I don't." He puts the cell phone down momentarily as he saw Susan approaching the car with Frank in her arms. "I have to get going, Rob. Talk to you later, alright?" Click.
Susan didn't see Mark on the phone. She put the child in the car seat and hopped into the passenger side seat. She raised an eyebrow at Mark, looked down on his crotch and grimaced. "Really, Mark? Really?"
Mark didn't detect anger in her voice. "What can I say? I'm sorry about that."
She shook her head. "It's alright. Just had to tell mom that you had some work to do at home and had to go."
As Mark drove away from the park, Susan looked at her husband's wet crotch again. She chuckled to herself and covered her forehead. "I can't believe it." She faced Mark. "You have an erection. Now what in the world am I gonna do with you now?"
Mark blushed. "I'm sorry." He couldn't stop apologizing to her.
"Does mommy have to put you in diapers again?" asked Susan in a strangely sweet but seductive voice.
Mark opened his eyes wide. He pulled up to a red light and gave Susan a bewildered look. "Huh. That's out of character for you."
She shrugged. "Hey, it was worth a shot."
"Wait! Did you want to...?"
"I'm kinda in the mood. I've had my hands full lately and I was hoping to... you know." Her voice turned into a whisper. "Let's not talk about sex in front of the baby."
Mark laughed. "He's cool with it."
Frank cackled. It was perfect timing.
Later that night, Mark and Susan had some fun. Inside his bedroom, Mark humped Susan wildly like the end of the world was approaching and they only had 30 minutes of time to spend with each other. As he was on top of her, Mark's face was completely red. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he felt the pleasure consume him. As Mark pressed into Susan, the blanket slid off of his back. He was wearing a diaper, but the front of it was pulled down. She moaned and whimpered as she experienced a very exhilarating ride. She could barely keep her legs down on the bed. Mark's brute strength kept her moving. She could barely see Mark through her long bangs that covered her eyes, but the intense pleasure inside her was what counted.
Since Mark came out as a diaper lover, the sex had never been better. Though she wasn't particularly moved by the initial idea of her husband wearing diapers, Susan enjoyed Mark's arousal from them. She knew what turned him on, and what turned him on didn't deter her from connecting with him on an intimate level. When she thought about Mark wetting and messing his diapers, she was disgusted. Beside those who wear diapers, who wouldn't be? But she liked how taboo it was. So did Mark. After months of coming to terms with his diaper-wearing habit, Susan found something she could work with -- and it made the sexual experiences more worthwhile. Every time they had sex, it felt like she was losing her virginity all over again. As long as Mark didn't poop in his diaper during intercourse, she was good to go.
When he was done, Mark pulled his diaper back up and rolled off of her. She laid in bed naked, looking up at the ceiling. She was breathless. She placed a hand on her breasts and took several deep breaths. Mark stretched his arms, yawned and passed out on the bed. After more than 20 years of wearing diapers, Mark was no longer paranoid about wearing diapers around Susan. He went to sleep with a clear mind and a clear conscience. Though there was one thing that kept him from having the fairy tale ending: Robbie.
He dreamed of Robbie that night. In the dream, Mark and Robbie had a consensual, gay encounter. They were in a motel room together. They sat up in bed, wearing nothing but diapers. They foldled each other. The momentum truly started, though, when Mark kissed Robbie on the lips. While his lips was locked in with Robbie's, Mark reached down to grab his younger partner's diaper. Robbie responded by squirming and moaning once he was touched. He returned the favor by lowering his head until he was able to stare directly at Mark's diaper. Robbie pressed his nose against Mark's diaper, and rubbed it slowly. The last thing Mark could remember from his dream was when he started to wet himself as Robbie sniffed him. A subtle hissing noise could be heard as Mark flooded his diaper. It felt like he was peeing endlessly with every second being more pleasurable than the last. As if a camera was placed in their hotel room, Mark could see his own diaper from Robbie's perspective.
Mark had a dark yellow spot that expanded quickly from the lower right-corner of his diaperfront. The wetness indicators disappeared and the diaper was getting heavier. Robbie's nose kept the diaper from sagging so everything was tightly contained. Around the time Mark had finished wetting, the dream ended.
He woke up at four in the morning. He looked over to Susan, who had her back facing him. He whispered softly to himself, "This is complicated." As much as he didn't want to admit to it, there was a love triangle between Susan, Robbie, and him. Mark knew that he was attracted to Robbie, but confessing out loud that he was anything but straight was a problem. There was no question that he enjoyed the sex with Susan, but what he could muster in bed with Robbie was something that existed on a whole new level. There was something very forbidden about it; something very risque and devilish. He wanted to do something with Mark, but he wasn't sure what that "something" would be. For a moment, he thought about Susan, and felt that her kindness was still being exploited by him. Was it time to speak up about Robbie?
The couple had lunch at a local Italian eatery just a few miles from the ranch. They sat down with Frank, who was in a baby carrier, and they talked about money. Mark retired from his construction business at a relatively young age (in terms of construction work standards), but was collecting income as part of his bonus. He also had an extensive stock portfolio of high-yield agricultural investments that helped him net $77,000 a year. But the property taxes and upkeep expenses forced him and his family to live on a tight, but modest budget.
Susan took a bite out of a slice of cheese pizza. "You know, Mark. Now that we have the baby, we ought to cut back on our own spending habits."
Mark closed his eyes to listen. The noise in the restaurant was hard to overcome. "I agree," he said tersely.
"You know what I'm about to say to you, but you already know. No need to repeat it."
Mark nodded. "Oh, well -- yeah, I understand. No problem."
Susan shrugged and raised an eyebrow at Mark. "Wait, that's it? I was expecting you to lose it, actually."
"No, no," said Mark calmly. "I --"
Mark couldn't finish his thought. He was going to suggest that there was an "alternative way to have fun" in diapers, and that involved networking with others who were diaper lovers. Mark did some research this back in the late 1990s. He was aware that there were other adult babies and diaper lovers out there, but he was the only one in his area -- or so he thought. Robbie came across the same impasse until he met Mark. Mark knew that getting together with other diaper fetishists was risky because he was married, so he never seriously entertained the idea until recently. When he saw Robbie in diapers, he got an electric charge from seeing someone else in them. He wanted to be in a setting where there were others who were diapered. The disadvantage of being sexually reliant on Susan was that she didn't wear diapers. She tried once, but was uncomfortable about the experience. Mark thought that disclosing his interest in mingling with othered diapered folks to his wife would add a new dimension to the marriage and make it more "spontaneous." But Mark quickly realized that a conversation about it could also snowball into questions about his sexuality and whether the marriage could still work despite wanting to put everything on the table.
"What is it?" asked Susan.
"Nothing." He scratched his head nervously. "I was just saying that I can cut back. Not a big deal."
She looked into his eyes and slowly shook her head. She flashed a little smile. "'Not a big deal,' huh?"
Mark scrambled to eliminate any of her suspicions. "Can we not talk about this at a restaurant?" he asked her.
"Oh, sure." Susan understood why he was antsy. "Sorry about that."
What was he thinking? Mark felt dumb for even thinking about approaching Susan with his ideas. He felt guilt the moment the thought reached his lips. He sat at the table, and wondered to himself about his wants and needs. He had everything that he wanted: a loving wife, a son, and the option to wear diapers whenever he wanted to as long as he recognized certain conditions. When he thought about the things he needed, Mark felt some discomfort.
He was getting older and the thought of being with someone "till death do us part" scared him -- not that he didn't love Susan. Now that he had a son, Mark felt the ball and chain getting heavier around his ankles. He hoped to explore his sexuality a little more. While his sex life was good, it felt repetitive at times. He thought about having a same-sex relationship because it was different. It was uncharted territory. For instance, Mark felt a spark between him and Robbie, but nothing materialized from it. He felt the opportunity to experiment with someone of the same sex was slipping away because his attention has been dedicated to raising a family. It was a moral dilemma like no other.
"It's weird to talk about, isn't it? Dealing with me has been a pain in the ass for you," said Mark in a rare moment of introspection.
Susan crossed her arms. "Yes!"
Mark chuckled. "Didn't expect you to be that honest!"
"Well, I mean it is something you don't see every day. With a baby, it's like, 'Okay, that's what babies wear, right? Not adults.' I mean, healthy adults. Was it a shock to me when I found out about it? Sure, but at the same time, I can understand it. Y'know, we all have our secrets and we're embarrassed by some of them. It's not like we want to lie about it and keep secrets, but it falls in the category of 'nobody else needs to know.' I can understand why you weren't forthcoming about it. Putting myself in your shoes, I wouldn't know how to deal with it either. 'Hey, guess what honey?' No, I wouldn't even have the courage to do that. I think what got me was how many years this was going on for -- but oh Lord! I'm grateful you are still you. You're still the same guy I fell in love with. You're still the same guy I married."
Mark wasn't so sure about the last part. He appreciated the kind words, though. "I love you," he told her. That's all he could say.
He kept having the same dreams at night. He was back at the hotel room with Robbie, having a sexual encounter that allowed him to pursue his impulses. However, the dreams would also end the same: the diapers were never removed. There was a mental block that Mark couldn't overcome. He wasn't able to visualize what could happen after the foreplay. This frustrated him, and his curiosity was finally boiling over. To his credit, Mark kept thinking about Susan. He tried justifying his curiosity internally by vowing to remain committed to monogamy after he had a "taste" of the same sex. All he wanted was a taste.
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Posted 01 March 2012 - 06:40 PM
Posted 17 March 2012 - 10:50 PM
Frank was four months old. For those four months, life was Hell for the new parents. Mark was starting to feel trapped in the family mold. He wanted to be the carefree cowboy like the way things used to be before Frank was born -- not that he didn't love his son. He corrected himself every time he thought about life before fatherhood. He dismissed thoughts of the past as "thinking selfishly." When he looked into Frank's eyes, Mark smiled gracefully, knowing that his son was a great gift to the world. When he was with Frank, Mark's selfish desires faded away albeit temporarily. There was some unresolved issues that continued to occupy his conscience.
When he said some time to himself, Mark sent text messages to Robbie. The conversation started innocently enough. "Hi, how are you? How's life?" Then it got a little zesty. Mark would ask Robbie about the status of his diaper. When talking about diapers, Mark and Robbie developed a shortcode that only they could decipher. "W" stood for wet. "M" stood for messy. "WM" stood for full diaper. "1" indicated that one diaper was worn, and "2" meant the wearer was double-diapered. An exclamation point next to "W" or "M" meant that the person communicating the status of their diaper was in the process of wetting or messing themselves. The men made a game out of it and they would eventually up the ante.
Mark and Robbie gave each other objectives. For example, Robbie challenged Mark to wet himself in front of an aisle of baby diapers in a grocery store within two hours. On the day he received that text message, Mark volunteered to do some grocery shopping and run errands. He made sure to hold his bladder and wait until he arrived at the local grocery store. When he walked to the baby aisle, he started at a bag of Pampers as he flooded his diaper. He got a charge of sexual adrenaline from the experience and felt aroused for the rest of his shopping trip. He looked at his watch to make sure that he was able to wet his diaper before the two hours passed. He was successful.
A challenge was issued by Mark to Robbie about a week later: soil your diaper in a line to the bathroom. To achieve this objective, Robbie drove to a popular hamburger joint close to his apartment. He ordered two double cheeseburgers, a side of chili fries and a large Pepsi. When he was done eating, Robbie walked up to a line of people waiting to use the restroom. The timing couldn't have been better. Robbie had to go and he had to go bad. He acted it out a little, but not enough to cause a stir. He bent his knees a little and casually grabbed his padded crotch. He roleplayed with himself and thought, "I have to go, but I don't want to be a baby and use my diaper! I want to be a big boy!" He waited and waited until it had to come out. He stood for a moment and allowed himself to mess. Once he made a deposit into the back of his diaper, Robbie walked out of the restaurant before the smell could fill up the place. He dashed into his car and drove away.
The challenges became more adventurous and risque. Robbie dared Mark to use his diaper during Sunday church service -- and so he did. As he recited Psalm 148 in unison with other parishoners (including his wife and son), Mark wet himself. Dressed in his formal church clothes, Mark started to wet slowly before this was the first time he was knowingly wetting himself in front of a few hundred people. He tried coaching himself to wet himself completely. "Babies do it all the time. C'mon, Marky boy!" In his mind, he was giving orders, but the body was not responding. Out of frustration, he tried forcing himself to wet. Instead, he let out a noisy fart squeak that unfortunately echoed during a moment of silence. Knowing that several parishoners heard the noise, Mark remained perfectly still while Susan coldly stared him down.
"What the Hell was that?" Susan mouthed to Mark.
Mark looked around, trying to find some poor soul to blame. He jerked his head slightly and moved his eyes toward an elderly man who sat beside him.
"Really, Mark?" Susan whispered with obvious exasperation.
Mark looked at the old man. The old man smiled and slowly nodded to Mark. "It wasn't me," he mouthed back to Susan.
An agitated Susan crossed her arms.
When the service was over, Mark and Susan walked out of the church side by side. Susan held Frank in her arms and walked hurriedly to the car. She knew that Mark was up to something, but didn't know what. Fortunately, nothing else happened during the service, but a very familiar smell lingered in her nostrils. Though nobody else seemed to notice, Susan felt embarrassed. She wanted to angrily interrogate Mark for acting like a dirty little sinner in a house of worship, but there was little proof to indict Mark.
"Can I see your diaper, Mark?" Susan asked as she got in the car.
"Not here, I --"
"No, let me see it," she insisted. "Okay, fine. Drive to somewhere private. I want to check."
"But I didn't do a number two."
"I don't believe you. Not for a second."
Mark was telling the truth. After Mark drove to a nearby park, Susan patted down her husband's crotch in the car. She felt no wetness or suspicious lumps. For the most part, Mark was dry. He failed his objective. This actually bothered Mark. No matter what kind of game he played, he always played to win. Had Susan not given him a hard time in church, he would have fully relieved himself there, Mark figured. He thought about lying to Robbie, but he didn't feel comfortable telling a lie. Mark eventually texted Robbie and told him, "Couldn't do it. Wife was a buzzkill."
In a strange way, Mark felt energized from taking on challenges -- as insignificant and narrow as they were. They made him look at life in a more exciting way. He was able to integrate the tedium of everyday life and responsibilities with the thrills that kept him mobilized. Susan was unaware of her husband's mischief, but she couldn't care less. She was busy being the mother, but she couldn't complain since Mark was always supportive. In fact, she enjoyed seeing Mark so chipper. If only she knew.
There were plenty of opportunities for Mark to visit Robbie, but he hesitated because he kept arriving at the same moral quandary of honoring his fidelity. He drove past Robbie's apartment when he was in the area, but never thought of knocking at his door. He went to Walmart to do his shopping, but Robbie didn't seem to be around as much as he used to be. Robbie seemed to be an elusive creature, but it was just coincidence that Robbie wasn't around the store while Mark was there. The stars weren't crossing as Mark hoped. Mark remained hopeful that someday he could spend some time with Robbie and experiment with his sexuality; he hoped to address the unanswered questions about himself.
Yet there was something soothing about being the family man who was always there to lend a helping hand. It was spiritually rewarding for the hardened cowboy. Being a father gave Mark a sense of pride that he didn't have before. It also gave him some authenticity. As time passed, Mark found less time to diaper up and seek new crinkly adventures -- and when he wore, it was for convenience and nothing more. After a while, Mark stopped calling Robbie. Robbie noticed that the communications were dwindling down. He tried salvaging what little contact they had by sending e-mails to Mark, but the e-mails were left unanswered.
By Frank's first birthday, Mark had come down with food poisoning. It was likely samonella poisoning. He spent days vomiting in the bathroom while expelling his bodily waste simultaneously. Fortunately, he was wearing a diaper. He messed his diaper uncontrollably, but even if he wasn't wearing any protective padding, he was too sick to care about the circumstances. Susan noted that Mark was actually wearing diapers for a practical purpose, and left him alone unless he needed her for something. He felt his heart racing quickly; faster and faster it went. He couldn't cough without vomiting all over himself. After a while, he decided to spend the rest of his day of sickness in the bathroom.
Outside the bathroom, Frank was crying. He could hear Susan's loud footsteps rumbling through the hallway. He sat on the toilet, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The lights were too bright in the bathroom for him, so he turned them off. With a coarse throat, he sat quietly, measuring every swallow. He felt like he was going to pass out, but he was reawakened by his grumbling stomach. He voided his bowels several times. It started with a painful rumble, a wet fart and an uncontrollable flow of waste piling into his diaper. For years, Mark used diapers as a convenience, but now the convenience was becoming all too real for him. It wasn't fun and games anymore.
By the time he exited the bathroom, Mark was gaunt and looked like life was completely drained from his face. His eyes appeared swollen. His lips were chapped. He had a few drops of saliva coating the bottom of his lip. He could barely see what was in front of him. He noticed Susan, who passed him by and asked him to lay in bed. The only thought he could muster at that moment was, "Oh, please change me!" The big, burly cowboy felt totally helpless -- and he hated that feeling very much. But he had to abide. He laid on top of the bed and held onto his diapered crotch. He started wetting himself, but the diaper was so full that it was beginning to leak. It felt like he was peeing into the palm of his hand. He could feel the wetness coming through.
Susan finally came over to Mark and arrived with a fresh diaper in hand. He closed his eyes and tried to remain calm, but his stomach continued to groan manically. He was hoping to relax enough so he could drift to sleep, but the sickness kept him awake. He felt Susan rubbing down his groin extensively. She was cursing to herself because this was the first time she had to change her husband's diaper in a messy state. She even gagged a few times, but fought the offending odors to change Mark as quickly as she could. Mark was simply grateful that she was getting him cleaned up.
Suddenly, Susan barked at Mark. "I shouldn't have to be your nurse."
Mark blinked a few times. He muttered back to her, "Never thought that you should be."
Susan mumbled incoherently to herself. "Sorry" was the only word Mark could hear from her ramble.
"It's alright. Just not in the best of shape right now."
Once she was done changing him, Susan stormed out of the bedroom to check on Frank. For a moment, Susan felt like she was living in a nightmare. Her husband looked pale, ghostly and lifeless. She left him laying on the bed. Then she realized that she forgot to feed Frank a snack. She got into the kitchen and prepared him a small sandwich. As she was making the sandwich, she could hear her husband moaning in the bedroom. She felt overwhelmed and at a loss of words. Though she knew that Mark wasn't able to help himself, Susan was disappointed at Mark for getting himself in awkward or embarrassing situations, mostly involving random instances of incontinence. She recalled the time he wet himself in front of her family members about a year earlier. Then she flashed back to the moment she found out Mark was ill.
A few days before his food poisoning symptoms fully manifested, the couple went out for a nice dinner at her favorite Chinese food restaurant with their son. She ordered her Kung Pao Chicken, brown rice and pork dumplings. He ordered Shrimp Lo Mein and bottle of Tsingtao beer. Frank just played with Chinese noodles in his high chair and didn't care for eating much that evening. Susan struck up a conversation with the owner, who knew her from high school. As she chatted, Mark felt a painful sensation that was pulsating in his stomach. He held onto his stomach briefly, but he was suddenly overcome with the urgency to discharge his bowels -- and so he did in front of everyone in the restaurant. He sat in the booth, grunted and dirtied his jeans. He wasn't wearing a diaper. She apologized to the owner profusely, paid the check and left the restaurant without uttering another word to Mark.
When they arrived back home, Mark and Susan got into a heated argument.
"I think I'm sick," he told Susan as he stood in the living room.
She raised a hand to her forehead in disbelief. "You know, I'm really tired of this. I had to put up with your diaper stuff for a while now, and now I'm miserable. Absolutely miserable." She looked into his eyes and wanted to scream at the top of her lungs.
"No, it's got nothing to do with --"
"Stop right there!" she said tersely. She placed her hand up to his face in a "stop" gesture. "Mark, I've known you for a long time now... before you wore diapers and you weren't shittin' your pants. You didn't act like a toddler. Now that you're wearing diapers all the time, it's hard for you to go out and have a life without wearing diapers at all. I'm just horrified -- I mean, tired of it. We already have one baby. Don't need two. I never imagined that I would be married to a big baby. You're embarrassing me in front of my friends, people I know. You're just -- you're..."
Mark started coughing violently. He walked over to the couch and sat down. He continued coughing. "No, Susan. I think I got food poisoned. I don't want to argue with you right now."
She raged on. "We need to talk about this."
"I'm sick, goddamit!"
"Then get off the couch and change your pants!"
Susan was able to cool down enough to realize her husband was actually sick. Once she spotted him vomiting in the bathroom, Susan immediately regretted how she treated him. However, she felt that the diapers were reducing his continence. She believed that he was so used to wearing diapers all the time that he was unable to control his bladder and sphincter muscles, and that dramatically reduced her overall attraction to him. She was no longer drawn to his presence. Instead, when she saw him in diapers, Susan imagined that Mark was sickly and unable to be the man he used to be. She appreciated the fact that he was supportive and proactive in taking care of Frank, but she also wanted him to be more than a father: a companion and a lover. He seemed incapable of assuming both of those roles.
On the night that Susan changed him, Mark laid motionless in bed. He was so tired from vomiting that he was able to sleep. Susan approached him and rubbed his sweaty forehead. He opened his eyes a little and smiled. Standing over him, Susan smiled back. She didn't feel any emotion in particular. Taking care of someone in need was a reflex for Susan, but she was nonetheless disheartened by the situation she found herself in. Mark could tell by the expression on her face that she finally hit the wall.
"Suzie," he called her. "I don't want to lose you."
She looked away from him, swallowed nervously and sniffled. "It's hard, Mark. It's hard." Her voice was crackling with emotion.
Tired, Mark took a heavy sigh. "I know you're stressed out. I'm really trying to work this out."
"We can't keep banging our heads against the wall. I've made adjustments, but it's up to you to make yours." Susan sounded calmer.
"Alright," he said stoically. "Give me a few days."
It took Mark about a week to recover. The time he spent recovering was dedicated to forming a plan for his future. He knew that he was depending on diapers too much. What started out as a convenient but recreational practice turned into a daily necessity that altered his life considerably. At the same time, he still liked wearing diapers. It became a part of his identity, though it was usually concealed from public view. He was still the diapered cowboy that liked going on adventures in the wilderness with his trusty, puffy undergarment. It was security. He often compared himself to Linus, a fictional character from the Charles M. Schulz comic strip "Peanuts." Linus always carried around his security blanket. Despite having a blanket with him at all times, Linus was considered as thoughtful and smart. However, even Linus outgrew his obsession.
Mark gave Robbie a call and told him that he was going to be in the area. A week passed since he got food poisoned. He decided that the only way he could transition out of diapers was by limiting his usage to social interactions with other diapered folk -- and make those interactions few and far between. He couldn't figure out a good way to convey his plans to Susan, so he kept his mouth shut. He went to see Robbie on a Friday as part of his trip into town. He let Susan know that he was going to be out for a while shopping and restocking some supplies. Mark took care of his errands first before stopping by Robbie's apartment for a visit. He knocked on Robbie's door and patiently waited.
Robbie answered and invited Mark in. Mark had not seen Robbie in almost a year, yet he felt comfortable around Robbie. He didn't feel like he was going to be judged or harshly criticized. The sexual tension between them was repressed enough for them to have a conversation about life with their clothes still on.
"So you're feeling better now?" asked Robbie as he sat on the living room couch beside Mark, flipping through the channels on his TV.
"Yeah, but I feel that the marriage is on the rocks. I've put her through, but I can't even articulate why I do what I do without coming across as a selfish prick," Mark grumbled.
"I have to be honest. The only way you can convey your feelings about -- you know -- is with someone who can relate to you. Like it would be a miracle, an absolute miracle if I found a boyfriend who was totally okay with me wearing diapers. You put yourself in someone else's shoes for a moment, and think about their reaction once they see a grown adult in diapers. But not even dry diapers... wet diapers, messy diapers even. Usually, their minds would be blown. From what you tell me, Susan is basically a saint. She could have dumped your ass, but she persevered. You're lucky, man."
"I am, for sure," Mark admitted. "But I know that she's really distraught about it all."
Robbie chuckled. "Well, I would be too if I see my partner shit their pants at a restaurant. My gut reaction would be, 'I don't know this person. I was drugged, and somehow ended up at this table against my will.'"
"At one point, I think Susan thought I crapped my pants on purpose."
Robbie snorted and grinned. "Well, maybe in fantasy-world you could get away with that. Not in the real world."
"I know, I know."
"Have you ever tried to -- oh wait! Remember when I dared you to wet during church a few months back?"
"Yeah. And I let out this fart that could be heard throughout the place. People were wondering who did it, but Susan knew. There was an older man beside me and I was trying to pass blame to that poor soul. And you know what? That old man had this smile on his face from ear to ear. It was like I could read his mind. 'Hey sonny, I know how it goes.' But the thing is: he's old. Old people can get away with a fart during church. Heck, if he got in his car and accidentally ran over a bunch of people, they would say, 'How can you be mad at this guy? He's old!' They can get away with murder! But me? No way."
Robbie laughed. "I'm sure that when you get old, you'll be put in a retirement home. You'll press the buzzer, summon the nurse and get her to change your diaper. But deep down inside, you know you're just diapered up so the nurse gives you some 'attention' if you know what I mean. Speaking of which, are you wearing right now?"
"Maybe. Maybe not," Mark replied coyly.
"Can I see?"
Mark unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and pulled his pants down slightly. At that moment, Mark felt a little peculiar. He thought of Susan for a split-second. His body tightened up. He looked down at Robbie's head as the younger man rubbed his diaper. It was dry. Nonetheless, he felt a sudden jolt of pleasure. It's been a while since he had his diaper rubbed suggestively by someone else. Robbie pushed down on the diaper and felt the rough outline of Mark's member. Robbie stroked Mark's diaper up and down slowly. Mark adjusted himself on the couch by sliding down a little. This gave Robbie an opportunity to see the diaper up and close.
"You put on a thick diaper today I see," said Robbie.
Mark nodded. "It's a special occasion. Haven't seen you in a while," he cackled.
Robbie was immediately aroused. He tried to not appear too eager. After all, he was mingling with a married man. He had some second thoughts about escalating the intimacy. He tried so hard to not confine himself to being a desperate, lonely gay man. He told himself that it was all happenstance. He thought about when he first met Mark at work. It was purely coincidence that his path crossed the path of someone who was also diapered. "But dammit," he thought. "The guy's handsome." He was falling for Mark, and he couldn't quite say what he felt to the big boy.
The chemistry between the two was undeniable. Mark had some vivid fantasies of Robbie in his dreams and yet the encounter felt like a spell that needed to be broken for the sake of his marriage. He went to Robbie's with the mindset that he was going to face down his temptations and indulge in the excess. He compared this strategy to the time his father forced his younger brother to smoke a whole carton of cigarettes after he was caught smoking around the house. After he managed to smoke half a carton, his brother decided to quit. For years, his brother couldn't tolerate the smell of tobacco. He was hoping that he would stop wearing diapers after visiting Robbie.
Robbie lifted up Mark's shirt and rubbed his hairy belly. Mark enjoyed the belly rubs. He enjoyed the physical contact. His loosened up his muscles and took a heavy sigh. Robbie took the relaxation as an indication that he was on the right track. When the momentum was starting to pick up, Robbie whispered to Mark, "I have to pee."
Mark's cheeks flushed red. "Now?"
Robbie whimpered and grabbed onto his diaper. "I've been holding it since you called."
Forgetting for a moment that he was in a roleplaying situation, Mark stuttered, "You're kidding, right?"
Robbie shook his head. He looked around the room, giving an exaggerated sense of desperation. "But I'm supposed to be a big boy and use the toilet!"
He was very animated when it came to showing his desperation. He moved away from Mark, grabbed his crotch and wiggled his legs. The boy was about to explode. A large half dollar-sized patch of yellow appeared on Robbie's diaperfront. In that moment, Mark saw a young diapered man who was stripped of his adulthood by profusely wetting his diaper. A vast covering of piss was spreading throughout the diaper. The surface was completely soaked. To Robbie, the diaper felt very warm. When a man wets his diaper, his scent becomes intesified. A very musky odor filled the room. Securely tucked inside his padding, Mark's penis hardened and poked the diaper. He felt his member slither further into his diaper, creating a lot of pressure in anticipation of what might come next.
Mark aggressed on Robbie like a force of nature. It wouldn't be long before Robbie went down on the cowboy. Mark looked down at Robbie as he was being pleasured. It was a strange, but electrifying experience. Never would he imagine the day he would have a same-sex encounter. His heart was racing and the only thing occupying his mind was "Wow!" Things were escalating quickly. There were paths that he could choose from that point -- sex in the bedroom, more diaper play. He felt a lot of power and freedom in the position he was in. He could do anything he wanted. The intensity of Robbie's oral work energized the big dude; Robbie's submissive nature was a big turn-on. He could barely weigh in with his pulsating organ.
Robbie took a break from what he was doing to rub Mark's chest. He pressed his body against Mark's and tried to sneak in a kiss on the lips, but Mark turned away. Despite being in the heat of passion, he didn't want to kiss Robbie. In his mind, kissing between two people constituted love -- and he loved Susan. Nonetheless, Mark remained involved in the physical intimacy. It was addicting. He leaned back on the couch, feeling greased up and horny. He felt Robbie's lips graze against his five o'clock shadow. The two men ceased speaking as they allowed their bodies to do the talking. Between them, it was like a cat-and-mouse game. Who was going to make the next move?
After whispering a request in his ear, Robbie got up and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the shower. Both men entered the small bathroom and got in the shower. There was barely enough room for the two. The water was hot and the bathroom was steamy. What Mark whispered in Robbie's ear was "Let's see how wet we can really get!" From outside the shower, there was a silhouette of two men: one bent over while a taller, larger man humped aggressively from behind. Both their diapers were on. It was a split-second decision on Mark's part. With hot water showering their bodies, the two men were having the time of their lives. Robbie moaned as the diapered cowboy rode him like a wild stallion looking to breed.
Mark could no longer withstand the pressure. He let the juice of his loins flow freely into his diaper; so much of it was pent up. The orgasm was so strong, it made him dizzy for a moment but he was able to hold onto Robbie's waist and maintain his footing. Panting, Robbie turned off the water and exited the shower first. He came out with his diaper drooping low to the ground, full of wetness. He wiped the steam off his mirror to take a look at himself. He looked at his diaper, which was obviously leaking. He didn't mind. Neither did Mark.
When he got out of the shower, Mark felt his stomach grumbling. He had to lay down a load. He looked down at the toilet beside him. Robbie followed Mark's eyes, smiled and shrugged cynically. Mark shook his head, grimaced at the toilet and waved his arms dismissively toward it. He bent his knees, squatted down and messed his diaper with a loud pop. Mark's diaper was completely full from all ends. It was the perfect conclusion to an extremely fun afternoon. Once he thoroughly relieved himself, Mark felt like he took care of all the necessities. The inner-quarrels with himself had disappeared. He requested Robbie to keep things on the "down low." He felt like he accomplished enough that the need for diapers was reduced to a mere thought.
As a parting gift, Mark changed Robbie in the bedroom. Because he was on diaper duty with his son, Mark became well-versed in diaper changes. In stark contrast to Robbie, Mark was fully clothed. He powdered Robbie and rubbed it into his skin good. He slid the new diaper underneath Robbie's rear, lined up the wings, adjusted the tapes and the leg gathers. Mark happily supplied his friend with a nice, thick diaper. He marveled at his achievement. Robbie groped his padded crotch for good measure and sat up.
"You sure know how to clean up, huh?" said Robbie.
Mark chuckled. "Practice, practice, practice."
"So you're done with diapers for a while?"
"More or less," Mark replied. "I need to focus on the family and being the father again, not the baby."
Mark sat down on the bed beside Robbie and sighed. "You know, that was fun," said Robbie. He patted Mark on the back.
"Weird, but fun. What can I say? Thought I was as straight as an arrow. Now I can see I'm a little bent."
"You don't think that's going to conflict with your marriage, do you?"
Mark placed his hands on his lap and looked down at the floor. "Beats me. It shouldn't, though."
"I'm thinking of moving out of the county... maybe heading to Houston or something. Don't think I'll find love in the boondocks here," Robbie chuckled.
"You could give it a shot. Why not?"
"Eh, well... I'm conflicted because it's like... I have feelings for this married man here, and --"
"Oh, is that right? I had no idea," said Mark. He winked playfully at Robbie.
"I think he's going to be too busy to see me."
"Never say never, my friend." Mark kissed Robbie on the forehead, rubbed his head and left.
The family had rebounded, just as Mark expected. A week after Mark's visit wtih Robbie, the Camus were as cheerful as ever. The diapers were moved from the hallway closet into the garage, and packed away in discreet cardboard boxes with "DO NOT OPEN" written in Sharpee. He stopped wearing diapers around the house. When Susan pressed him on the sudden change, Mark told her, "I have to be a big boy now." She accepted the answer.
Mark no longer had any embarrassing accidents nor did he feel any reason to indulge in his voyeuristic pleasures, which remained happily dormant. In short time, the vivid narrative of the diapered cowboy became a colorful fable that never left the confines of the family ranch. He didn't mention to Susan the time he spent with Robbie. And she never demanded to hear an explanation for his lengthy visits in town. She was a smart woman. She knew that something changed when he left the house, that day, to visit Robbie. He came back looking calm, clean and assertive. This was the Mark Camus that she married all those years ago. However, Mark could not escape the criticism from her about his diaper-wearing, which she parodied relentlessly.
It all seemed like a distant memory. When Susan joked about it, Mark laughed it off like she was talking about someone else. Susan was still in disbelief. Though her hands were full with raising Frank, she couldn't help but sometimes think about the events that transpired. Her brain remained rigged with doubt about her husband. Though she loved him, there was something unsettling about the whole thing. She hoped to one day sit down with him and talk about it. There were times when she would enter the garage to find something, but would end up walking to the boxes of diapers. The diapers, which were stacked at a dark corner of the garage, didn't intimidate her. She was just curious to see if the boxes were opened since he moved them there.
Little did she know, he didn't change much. Mark Camus continued walking around the farm in his diapers. He always carried spares in his truck.
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