Horndog

The state of Arizona has very lax gun laws and issues permits for people to carry weapons....they also have the lowest crime rate in the country.

You exaggerated a little bit. Scottsdale, AZ has the lowest crime rate in the country, not the entire state of Arizona.

Says Wikipedia: "Crime rates vary greatly across the states. Overall, New England had the lowest crime rates, for both violent and property crimes. New England states also had the lowest homicide rates in the country."

You can't be serious. If you were to let everyone in with guns, it would be possible to easily co-ordinate an attack among a group. Everyone having guns doesn't remove the element of surprise. If twenty people pull a gun, what are the odds everyone's going to automatically know who pulled in the first place as opposed to shooting at someone who *looks* like they *might* be the loony? Step up security. Job done.

That's absolutely right. Giving everyone a gun doesn't resolve the problem. In fact, it exacerbates it.

Sorry square_duck, but the kind of misinformed attitude you have toward the President and politics has led to a record amount of death threats issued toward Obama. That rhetoric invokes violence.

Whenever I travel, I always look in the local phone book for medical supply stores and search out the ones that have "incontinence supplies" listed in the ad.

I think this needs to be repeated.

If you find a place that has "incontinence supplies" listed in their ad, you will have no problem buying diapers there. They will completely understand.

I'm on the younger side. I occasionally get embarrassed when buying diapers in public, but when I go to this pharmacy -- that specializes in incontinence supplies -- they're very supportive.

Chapter 1


Our Incontinent Coach

The varsity basketball team at Evergreen High School had a coach that was unlike any other coach. He was a tall, masculine buck who used to play basketball professionally as a point guard. He was forced to retire ten years into his professional career after a tearing his ACL for the third time. What made matters worse, he suffered from an embarrassing condition that emerged well into his adulthood. Having to undergo surgery and tend to this condition made it extraordinarily difficult for Steve Markos to continue playing. Shortly after he announced his retirement, Steve applied for the varsity basketball team at his alma mater. At the age of 29, Steve was the youngest coach to ever coach basketball team at Evergreen High, and his winning record was that of an old legend. During his first year as coach, the Evergreen team won all of their home games in the season, but lost eight games when they were on the road. That year, the team also won the regional championship and would be eligible for competing on a state level.

Steve stubbornly refused to attend road games, and his teammates didn't know why. But because he was such a nice coach and his teammates loved him like one of their own, Steve was easily excused from attending. Instead, he would dispatch his assistant coach, Michael Dupak. Until one fateful day, only Michael knew why Steve couldn't attend road games.

That fateful day finally came. It was Steve's second year on the job. He was giving his team a pep-talk after the game. Despite having a close game a few days before -- which his team barely won -- Steve was upbeat. He was terse only when he talked about all the turnovers his team had during the most recent game.

"Twelve turnovers is not what we want," the buck told the team sternly as he tapped the chalkboard behind him. "We have to focus on the ball. Dribble lower to the ground and execute your screens. We're doing good with the stops, but we can't turn over the ball that much. Focus, guys. Focus!"

Steve cleared his throat suddenly, turned his back away from the team temporarily to cough. Suddenly, he felt it. All it took was the cough. He grabbed the back of his red gym shorts and quickly turned around to face the team. They didn't suspect anything, he thought. He took a deep breath and tried to pretend that nothing unusual had happened.

"Are you alright, coach?" asked one of the players.

"Yeah, yeah. I had a thought come to me but it disappeared. It just, like, faded all of a sudden."

A sharp-looking bulge from his rear appeared and his shorts fell down a little. Players would see the elastic, plastic waistband of an adult diaper peeking over his shorts. Some members of the team chuckled while others sat in silence. They were in disbelief. Their coach wore an adult diaper. Judging by his appearance and the smell that started lingering in the air, it was clear that Steve soiled the seat of his diaper. When he saw the shocked facial expressions of his team, Steve's heart stopped beating for a second. Sweat dripped from his eyebrows. He exhaled in anxious, short breaths. Coach looked around the room and closed his eyes. The silence was unbearable.

"There's something I need to tell you," said the buck.

"We already know," joked one of the players. There was laughter.

Steve snapped back, "If you have a problem with someone who has a medical condition, you can run twenty laps around the track right now."

Silence. Then there was chuckling. When the chuckling got louder, the assistant coach appeared from the coach's office. The short, green gator put on his eyeglasses and wandered to the center of the locker room. He was dressed in a black business suit from head to toe.

"Alright. Hit the showers and go home. Get a good night sleep 'cause we're doin' laps first thing tomorrow."

"But Coach Dupak, tomorrow is Saturday," one teammate whined.

"Did I stutter?" asked Michael. "Tomorrow at eight. I expect you all to be there. We're going to practice after laps. Everyone, showers."

When the team dispersed, Michael came up to Steve. The buck put down his chalk and walked away from the chalkboard with his head down. Michael wrapped his arm around his colleague's shoulder. "Hey, it was going to happen sooner or later," said the gator to Steve.

"But in front of the team, though?" Steve muttered.

"It happens when it happens. I'm thinkin', though, that maybe you should tell the team a little about your incontinence situation -- of course, without going overboard."

Steve nodded. "I'll think about it. I'm going to change in the office. Do you mind?"

"No... go right ahead."

Humiliated, Steve walked into the coach's office. He closed the door behind him, shut the blinds once he walked inside and sighed heavily. Under the desk was his gym bag, which contained nearby a bag of adult diapers, a pair of shorts folded up, an air freshener and baby powder. He laid down on the rubber flooring and changed himself. He unfastened the tapes one by one, and looked at the inside front of his diaper. He was wet. There was yellow everywhere inside his diaper. He wet immediately before soiling himself. It was the cough that pushed it all out at once. He removed the dirty diaper completely, folded it up and tossed it in a discreet paper bag that lined his trash can. He took out some baby wipes that were conveniently located in one of his desk drawers and applied it around his rear. He sighed again before hearing a knock on the door.

"Who's there?" asked Steve.

"It's Ray." Ray was the junior forward on the team.

"Give me a minute, alright?"

As Steve put on a fresh diaper, Ray talked to him. "Y'know, I just wanted to say that -- well... I wanted to apologize over what happened back there. I mean, I chuckled but it was like an 'Oh my God!' kind of chuckle. Wasn't laughing at you personally, man."

Steve slowly adjusted the tapes on his new diaper. "It's alright. It looks weird, sure. But you learn to deal with the hand you're given, right?" the coach said to Ray.

When he finished changing, Steve stood up, put his shorts back on and opened the door. He saw his star forward, a kangaroo, standing there. "Can I come in?" asked Ray.

"Sure."

Steve offered his office chair to Ray. The roo sat down and looked at his coach in the eyes. He, too, had an embarrassing secret of his own, but he felt comfortable sharing the details with his diapered coach. Without warning, Ray jumped into the story about his shortcomings.

"I just wanted to say... For years, I was bullied and I was stressed out all the time. By all the time, I mean, like, every school day for the past five years. People were picking on me because I kept to myself. Was the loner type, y'know? I'd come back home from school with all these emotions bottled up inside me. I developed high anxiety. So what happened was... I wet the bed. I couldn't stop. It happened over and over again. It got so bad that I ended up driving to the laundrymat with my sister in secret, maybe three times a week. She joked with me one night when we were washing my sheets and she says to me, 'Boy, you need to put in diapers, I swear,' and I freaked out. I thought, 'How is that possible?' I'd get picked on even more, but I knew that it was something that eventually I had to do."

The coach listened attentively as he leaned against a wall directly across from Ray. "And did you?" he asked Ray.

"Yeah, well, I bought some with my sister's money. I bought them at the Evergreen Pharmacy up the street here. It was weird just wearing them. I felt like I was 'sick,' or something was really wrong with me. The first night I wore one to bed, I woke up wet but the bed was dry. It was still humiliating, so I went to my parents and asked if I could get some medication for my anxiety. Sure enough, after I consulted a psychiatrist, I was given this anti-anxiety medication and I've been on it ever since. I stopped wetting the bed, but in a way, I wish I was back to wearing diapers. The medication does shit to my head. I can't think clearly. I want to be focused on the game, y'know, but I know what would happen if I was off the meds. When I saw you, I knew that I wanted to talk to you. I knew you would understand."

Steve didn't know how to respond to Ray's confession. He suddenly felt more responsible for the young roo than before. It was easier being a coach than it was to be a friend. It wasn't that he didn't want to develop friendships with his teammates. He felt that his medical condition was a deeply private matter, and nobody but a few within his inner-circle is allowed to know about it. He was caught off-guard by Ray's openness. He felt honored to be bestowed on him someone else's vulnerability. The buck closed his eyes and listened to himself inhaling and exhaling softly. When he figured out a response, he opened his eyes and looked at Ray.

"Thank you for telling me," he calmly told the roo. "You have a lot of guts to walk into my office and tell me all that. No, seriously. I'm honored. Just understand that I'm not comfortable discussing my personal situation. But what I can do is help you. As a faculty member, I'm not too keen on getting too close with the players. It's for the sake of consistency with the team. But what I can tell you is this: if you need any advice, I'll give you some. If you want to talk, I'll lend you my ears, alright? I'm really, really sorry that I can't say any more than that."

Ray nodded slowly. "It's alright. I'll help myself out."

Now, Steve was very conflicted with himself. One of the biggest stars on the team was a bedwetter who was forced to make a choice between taking anti-anxiety medication -- which had side effects that altered his ability to concentrate during games -- and wearing diapers, given all the risks associated with doing so. The buck was forced to cope with the embarrassment of revealing that he wore diapers to the entire team. Word was going to spread quickly. He was concerned that parents and other faculty would find out and consider him a pervert without knowing the facts. He decided to stay silent and carefully address the subject once it's brought up. He left the locker room that evening with concerns clouding his mind. He drove back to his house while thinking about his personal circumstances.

When he was born, doctors noticed that Steve suffered from torn anal sphincter muscles. Doctors were confident that the buck would eventually recover, but the window of time between knowing that he had to go and actually going would be unusually short. He stayed in diapers until the age of three when he was ready for potty training. Other than frequently dealing with the sudden urgency to use the bathroom several times a day, Steve managed his condition masterfully. But when he hit puberty, things changed for the worst. He occasionally messed his pants. His parents weren't surprised by the developments, but insisted that the amount of accidents would be reduced if he went on a proper diet. Despite going on a mostly vegetarian diet, the accidents continued with increased frequency. By the time he started playing basketball in high school, he started wearing diapers but reduced the likelihood of accidents by eating very little on days when he played in games. He often played hungry, but it was his hunger that added a degree of aggression to his game.

He was so good at playing basketball that a league scout brought him into the majors immediately after he graduated. However, with success came scrutiny. There were games when he relieved himself while playing on the court. It always came out at the most inopportune times. Fortunately, he wore the thickest diapers he could possibly find. The downside was that he had to adjust to the thickness and run down the court without being subservient to waddling. This took a great deal of practice. And when he wore diapers that were thin enough to run up and down the court without obstruction, he leaked. He chalked the leaks to "sweat" and nothing more than that. He developed a reputation for sweating a lot. He didn't mind that. He could live with that. Fortunately, nobody but his teammates were aware of his condition. However, a former teammate leaked the press once that he wore diapers, but the press dismissed the claim as a metaphor for Steve's whining at the refs for making calls he disagreed with.

But there was another side to Steve that fewer people knew about. The buck often wondered about spending time with others who wore diapers. He wondered what it would be like. Would there be any awkwardness at first? Would there be diaper changes? Or would it not be considered a big deal? In an ideal world, Steve could remove his pants and walk around diapered. Nobody would question it. And being around other diapered people would help eliminate the stigma of wearing them. He thought about Ray in diapers. The roo was muscular, had a nice physique. He was assertive but playful, and he always had a great sense of humor. Ray was someone who Steve always respected, but now that he knew that his star player had also worn diapers, Steve's mind was overflowing with scenarios. Things were going to be different as far as how they interacted with each other, and he most certainly didn't want to impose on Ray in the slightest.

The assistant coach, Michael, called Steve's cell phone at around midnight to discuss what happened earlier.

"So how are you going to address the team tomorrow?" Michael asked.

"Beats me. It's tightrope-walking. I know I have to say something," Steve muttered.

"Tell them the truth. You have incontinence, and they need to accept that. It's not like you whipped out your junk and shouted, 'Here kids! Here's some motivation!'"

Steve laughed and covered his eyes. "You're too much! Have a good night, Mike."

Practice came sooner than Steve would have liked. It was early in the morning, and he was out the door before he could pour his morning coffee. He arrived at the high school track field and met with the assistant coach. By the time he arrived, the team had already started their laps. He sat on the stands and watched his team run lap after lap. The cool breeze blowing against his fur helped the buck wake up. He watched Ray running around. At one point, Ray looked up and waved at the coach. He smiled and waved back.

When they finished their laps, the team was exhausted. They joined Steve on the stands.

"Guys, I wanted to briefly address what happened last night. I have a medical condition. I had it since I was born, but it became harder to manage when I was around your age. This medical condition has forced me to wear diapers. Yes, diapers. It's not something to brag about, but there you go," he told the team. "Everybody has their strengths and weaknesses."

One teammate blurted out, "So when your boy Kenny Jones told the press that you wore diapers, that was true?"

Steve nodded. "True."

"What a jerk," said another teammate.

Steve realized that the team supported him. Everyone seemed to be on the same page. The team walked with Steve to the outdoor basketball courts nearby for practice. The team asked him questions about his career and his relationship with his former teammates. Steve told people that his relationships were mostly good and stable. But there were always players who let success go to their heads; they were the arrogant, conniving prima donnas of the league. They were the trash-talkers, the intimidators, and the sleaze that gave the league a bad name. He revealed to the team that his rivals on the court would use the fact that he wore diapers as a weapon to intimidate him. "But it always backfired 'cause I'd always beat them in the transition. One second they were there, tryin' to make a fool out of me. The next, I was on their turf with an assist to an alley-oop. They learned to shut up after a while."

The players had a lot of respect for Steve. When he was reminded of the fact, the buck went back to being the congenial coach. The practice drills went flawlessly, and he even played a one-on-one with some members of the team. He was still a contender. When he banked an impressive fadeaway from the three-point line, everyone on the team forgot that their coach wore diapers -- well, except for one player. When Steve made the shot, Ray stood up and applauded. The roo was very enthusiastic. The team was pumped up and ready for their next match. It was almost noon, and Steve singlehandedly won over the team. The day was turning out better than he expected except for the fact that he had to sit down with his ankles covered in ice-packs. That was the end of practice. Everybody but Ray left campus.

Ray sat down beside his coach. "You're a beast!" the roo said to Steve. "If you didn't suffer that injury, you could still play in the majors!"

Steve sighed heavily. "Yeah, but whaddaya gonna do... Can't live in the past."

Changing the subject, Ray said to Steve, "I wanted to show you something."

Ray stood up from the ground, pulled down his basketball shorts and boxers. Steve's eyes widened into white when he saw his student in a thick disposable diaper.

Steve waved his arm dismissively at Ray. "Put your pants back on," he muttered.

"Why? Nobody else is here. Obviously, you can play just fine while wearing one. You're wearing one now, right?"

"Yeah, but --"

"Nobody noticed that you were."

"But you can't go out there looking like that. I mean, if you play professionally, the cameras are always trained on you. You bend over and your diaper shows, guess who's going to end up making the news the next day."

Ray argued, "But why should I, or anyone else, really care about that if I play well? Doesn't the effort speak for itself?"

Steve removed the ice-packs from his ankles and stood up. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that," he told Ray. Steve yanked down his shorts and pulled them over his socks and shoes. At last, the incontinent coach made his official debut. Dressed in a Evergreen high school t-shirt, black jacket and diaper, Steve was ready to take on his star forward. "You think it's easy? C'mon!"

Steve and Ray played a quick one-on-one match. The first to ten points won the match. Steve was first with the all. Ray guarded him. Steve tried a quick spin around Ray with a layup, but Ray blocked the ball. Ray stole the ball and made a modest jump shot from the free throw line. Steve couldn't believe that he was playing against one of his players while diapered and wearing no shorts. He was surprised that Ray snuck in a shot. Since when did the roo know how to pump-fake so well? When Steve took possession of the ball, he was a little more aggressive than unusual and charged into Ray when attempted another layup. This time, Steve stumbled over Ray and fell on top of them. Their diapers grinded against each other. On the ground, Steve was on top of Ray. The roo blushed and turned his face away from his coach.

Ray grabbed onto Steve's hand. The buck pulled Ray up. Both men brushed themselves off and laughed.

"You're still a player," Ray told Steve, "whether or not you want to admit to it."

He liked the encouragement. Steve had convinced himself that his playing days were over and nothing was going to change his opinion. However, Ray's sincerity and determination to prove that point made the buck's heart flutter. Steve sat back down at his seat, put the ice packs back on his ankles and chuckled to himself. "Okay, this is fun," he told Ray.

Ray removed his shirt and laid flat on the concrete. His fur was covered with sweat. The exhaustion took its toll. He didn't want to move. The roo tried looking away from the bright sun. When Steve saw Ray squinting his eyes as a result of directly facing the sun, he provided Ray his sunglasses. "I think you need these," said Steve.

Ray put them on. "Thanks." He could see Steve a little better now. The roo had conflicting feelings about his coach. He liked how easy-going Steve was. He was also young enough to relate to and also looked youthful. He liked his passion for the game and his willingness to go the extra mile to help the team improve. Ray was also attracted to Steve. He wanted to say the attraction was strictly platonic, but he couldn't honestly live with that description. When he saw Steve in diapers for the first time, Ray knew right away that he had something to work with. The word "cute" came to the 18-year-old roo's mind. At the time, Ray thought that Steve was being adventurous for messing his diaper in front of team. He thought the act was intentional -- at least he hoped it was. At least that was the fantasy he wanted.

"Tell me if this is too personal for you to answer, but have you ever liked wearing diapers?" asked Ray.

Steve hesitated for a few seconds. "Well, sure -- I mean, they've saved me from the embarrassment," he replied.

"No, no. Do you enjoy it?"

Steve perked up. "Never been asked that." Steve thought of coming up with a different answer.

Ray volunteered an answer to his question. "I do. It's like... knowing you don't have to run to the bathroom during halftime when you have to go. Or when you wake up in the morning, thinking you wet the bed. You didn't, but you feel wet. It's a warm kind of wet. I feel like, 'Man, I shouldn't have done it,' but doing it is part of the fun. You make lemonade out of lemons."

"Diapers have their benefits, sure." Steve looked around the courts by shifting his eyes before he relayed the following anecdote. "When I was 16, I played soccer after school. We played in the park across from campus. We would play for hours and hours. One day, during a match, I had to go real bad. This happened literally during the match. This is around the time I started wearing. I didn't want to use it, but I started feeling pain. Then I suddenly let it all go... all at once. It felt good."

Ray got aroused from the story. "That must have been nice." Then he let his emotions get the best of him. "Has anyone else changed you?"

"No. I typically change myself," Steve calmly replied.

"You should consider --"

Steve raised his hand up, gesturing his eager player to stop. "Please. Enough."

The buck got from his seat, pulled up his shorts and walked off the court. Ray cursed to himself as he saw the coach walk away from him. For both men, the circumstances were very usual. Ray figured that Steve made the right call by leaving before things escalated between the two. He felt like he screwed up by allowing his libido to do the talking. The realization of being too assertive toward Steve confirmed the fact that the roo was attracted to Steve. He was never attracted to someone of the same sex before. When he discovered -- like everyone else on the team -- that his coach wore diapers, he knew that he could relate to Steve in a very intimate way. The intimacy proved to be awkward at best. Ray questioned whether it was right to pursue a relationship with his coach or remain on comfortable, friendly terms.

Steve battled with the same choices, except that he didn't want to be perceived as a predator of exploitative of the young roo's desires. Steve mused that if he wasn't coach, there was a possibility that the two could, let's say, experiment. During his professional career, Steve dated several females, but most of the relationships were based on his status on a "celebrity." With Ray, he didn't see that Ray was drawn to him by his success. There was a kind and mutual acceptance of each other. Both men respected each other for what they've done and what they're capable of. Regardless of gender, Steve appreciated Ray's company and his charismatic demeanor. When Steve toppled over Ray and fell down, he saw the roo look back at him with a warm smile. There was a sweet innocence to that smile.

Later that day, Ray returned home to his parents' place. He sat down on his bed with a crinkled thud and looked at the clock on the wall. 4:35 PM. Then he turned to his end-table beside his bed. On top of the table was a small bottle of anti-anxiety medication labeled "Xanax." The roo lowered his head, sighed heavily and ingested one pill without drinking any liquid to wash it down. He figured that diapers would cause him grief on and off the court. However, he felt that the pills were slowly consuming his sanity. And so he constantly asked himself, "How long do I have to take these pills?" Neither his psychiatrist nor his parents had a specific answer. At times, Ray felt it was easier to wet the bed and take care of laundry duty than remain dependant and oversedated on something that could one day take him to the point of no return.

"How did practice go, Ray?" asked his father from outside his bedroom.

Ray looked at the closed door and loudly replied, "Fine. I'm taking a breather and going out with the team later tonight for dinner."

"Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything, Ray."

"Sure thing."

After hearing his father walking away, Ray locked his door and walked back to his bed. He got undressed, leaving only his diaper on. He neatly folded his clothes and placed them on the floor. The roo stood before the mirror -- which covered his closet door -- and looked at his diaper. He suggestively grabbed his diaper crotch and created a loud crinkling noise. He whispered to himself, "Here goes nothing!"

Ray held his bladder for nearly two hours. He was ready to burst. The anticipation brought upon an erection, which prevented him from wetting his diaper. He experienced some discomfort. He wanted to let loose, but couldn't. He tried calming himself down by reaching into his diaper to gently rub his sheath. He was successful. And sure enough, a dark blotch began to appear in the center of his diaper. Then a large blotch appeared underneath the first one. He was profusely wetting himself. The colored wetness indicators blurred into the yellow tint. Inside his diaper, it was getting warmer and warmer. He could feel his piss coating the shaft and his balls underneath. His diaper was getting more soggy, thicker and wetter. The flow of piss was uncontrollable. By the time he was done wetting, he let out a fart. With the momentum behind him, Ray squatted down to the floor like a toddler and sucked his thumb. He felt a mess pour into the seat of his diaper. It didn't create a bulge in the back, but what it lacked in bulge, it made up for in color. It was clear that Ray thoroughly used his diaper as it was intended.

The roo sat back down on his bed, pulled down the front of his diaper and started jerking off. It only took a few strokes before a thick gob of semen slapped his chestfur. It was a very strong, but draining orgasm. The orgasm was so intense that his heart was buzzing, almost leaping out of his chest because of the intensity. When the euphoria finally left his blushing face, Ray thought to himself, "What am I doing? I can't do this." He wanted to wear diapers, but he factored in the inconvenience of wearing them in public. He wasn't the type of guy to feel ashamed for wearing, but it was another thing he had to be responsible for. In a way, he wished that someone would care for him; someone to change him and have that relationship with someone who related to his interests. He didn't like being alone. When Steve walked away from him that day, Ray felt alone and that feeling haunted him more than ever.

Later that night, Steve soiled his diaper during a visit to the local grocery store. This time, he wore some jeans and a sports jacket. He just finished filling up his shopping cart with groceries when he messed his diaper. He instinctively reached around his rear to fell the warm mess he made. He appreciated the relief. "Not again," he muttered to himself. At least he was wearing a diaper, he thought. Every time he soiled himself in public, he knew the accidents were something that he wasn't supposed to have outside of the privacy of his home. But he wasn't overcome with guilt. He got used to it. But he felt like he had to run as soon as he relieved himself.

The shopping trip turned from a casual stroll around a market to a covert operation. Mission objective: get out as quickly as possible before people get suspicious. Luckily for him, the checkout lines weren't long at all. He left the store, feeling like a criminal. After putting the grocery bags in the trunk, Steve hopped into his car with a subtle squish and drove home. This is the way he lived his life. Everything goes well until the unthinkable happens. This was a very permanent situation. It depressed him. Steve thought about Ray as he drove back home. He thought, "How can I accept this like he can?" His mind flashed to the moment when Ray removed his shorts and played a one-on-one game with him in diapers. Ray wasn't hiding it, and he most certainly trusted his coach enough to flash it without breaking a sweat.

When he returned home, Steve put away the groceries and changed out of his dirty diaper. Since he was in a dirty diaper for an uncomfortably long period of time, he decided to take a hot shower and clean up. Because he didn't have any other pressing matters, the buck decided to sit on his favorite chair in the living room and read a book. Steve loved reading autobiographies of famous athletes for inspiration. In those books, he sought chapters that described how atheletes overcame adversity. But in most cases, the adversity involved gender, species, and sexual orientation discrimination. None of the adversity had anything to do with cases like incontinence. Putting himself in the shoes of famous athletes, Steve often asked himself, "What if they had to wear diapers and they had no choice? What then?" The answer would always come back the same: adjust. There was a part of Steve that wanted to rebel from that answer. Sometimes, Steve dreamed of going out in public in diapers -- and if anyone complained, he would tell them to adjust.

But life wasn't that easy. He understood that. When he thought of Ray, he saw a charismatic roo who was very accepting of his personal circumstances. Ray was also a very skilled basketball player. He excelled in steals, blocks and making difficult shots. The coach had no idea that he was a victim of bullying and that he suffered from anxiety. Steve sympathized with Ray for he, too, was also bullied when he was in high school. Like Ray, Steve's problems started to emerge when he was in high school. Both men used sports as a way to escape their problems. But it's admittedly difficult to run up and down the court with a diaper on, especially when you don't have complete control over your bodily fluids. Not knowing when the accidents were going to come was emotionally taxing. But at 18, Ray was more upbeat about it unlike Steve when Steve was that age.

It was the first game after Steve accidentally revealed to the team his secret. It was a road game, and Steve decided to attend. This encouraged the players to play at their best. Sure enough, they defeated their long-time rivals by 12 points! Oddly enough, Ray's performance was less than stellar. He appeared lethargic on the court and gave up three of the team's five turnovers. When he tried to block a shot, he committed a hard foul by striking the shooter's shoulder with his elbow on the way down. Steve made the call to bench Ray for the rest of the game. Ray was visibly agitated with himself. He was too sedated to play. The medication he was taking made his body feel heavy and awkward. Steve knew something was up.

When the game was over and he just wrapped up his post-game chat with the team, Steve approached Ray in the locker room.

"You okay, buddy?" Steve asked.

Ray looked at the coach with his tired, bloodshot eyes. "I screwed up," Ray hazily replied.

"We have our good games and bad games. Happens to all of us."

Ray suddenly stood up from the bench he was sitting on and raced to the bathroom nearby. He found an empty stall, closed the door behind him and started coughing violently. He vomited. The anti-anxiety medication didn't jive with the physical exercise. A few teammates rushed over to the stall when the forward stayed inside for five minutes, vomiting continously. They asked the coach if Ray should be taken to the hospital. Without responding, Steve jogged over to the stall and tried opening the door. Suddenly, the door was unlocked and it swung open. Ray wiped his muzzle, looked at Steve with watery eyes and told him, "I'm okay." A puddle of Ray's urine had gathered on the floor. He clearly wet his shorts and looked very tired. Ray had lost control of his bladder due to the stress his body endured when he was vomiting. Members of the team said nothing as Steve escorted Ray to their bus.

"We're going home," Steve told the team.

It was wise for Steve to drive Ray to his parents' house once they returned to their school campus. Ray lost consciousness two times while he was on the bus. Steve was there by his side, talking to him and assuring the roo that everything was going to be fine. By the time Steve pulled up to Ray's house, the roo was awake and alert.

"I'm sorry," said Ray.

Steve patted the roo on the back. "Don't worry about it. Get a good night sleep, alright?"

"Okay." To Steve's surprise, Ray grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Thank you."

Ray got out of the car and walked to his front door. Steve bit his lip and looked at his steering wheel. He stayed in his car and watched as Ray opened up the door. His parents appeared to hug their son and wave to the coach. Steve waved back and smiled. Ray's mother hugged her only son. Finally, Ray was let inside. The door closed behind him. There was silence. It was 10:25 at night. It was the end of a very long day. Steve could barely comprehend the events that transpired that night. The only thing he could vividly remember was the conversation he had with Ray on the bus. Ray confessed that took some Xanax before the game. When Steve asked him how much he took, Ray quietly whispered to him that he wet the bed the night before and that he was "tired of it." Then Ray looked at Steve with intensity in his eyes.

"I'd rather have a wet bed to deal with than lose a good friend," Steve told him.

Ray smiled and closed his eyes. Steve sat beside him on the bus and keep an eye on his star player.

Steve didn't change out of his diaper that night. He went straight to bed. He spent the rest of the evening looking up at the ceiling, staring at the fan above as it projected cool air onto his face. He tossed and turned in bed, thinking about Ray. He didn't want to admit to it, but he was developing feelings for the forward. He didn't know the best way he could express those feelings given the coach-player context. Steve didn't want to be the guy who appeared in the news as someone who had an inappropriate relationship with a student. But when he spent a good part of the night being by Ray's side, he felt a connection with him that he couldn't possibly describe. When Ray held onto his hand before getting out of the car, Steve felt that a bond had formed -- and that bond evolved from the coach-player relationship. There was something more to it. Steve tried to disregard thinking about these things as "exhaustion." Regardless, Steve knew that he had to address the situation as it was evolving wildly before his eyes.

Meanwhile, Ray slept comfortably in bed. He needed the rest. The roo didn't mean to put everyone through like that. He thought about how Steve came to his aid. He was very appreciative of the help. Before he went to sleep, Ray told his parents what happened after the game. They scolded him for taking more medication than he needed to.

"Why would you do that to yourself?" Ray's mother asked him as she sat across from him in their living room.

Ray looked down at the floor. "I was stressed out because I wanted to do better than the last game. Didn't know if I could meet my coach's expectations." That wasn't true. He never bowed to pressure. It was all about Steve.

"Please don't overexert yourself, Ray," his father said to him. He stood behind the sofa that Ray was sitting on. "When you told me on the phone what happened, I got sick myself. Please take better care of yourself."

"Alright, dad."

"Promise us," said his mother.

"I promise."

The next morning, Ray stumbled into the kitchen to make some cereal. His sister, Carla, poured some orange juice into a glass and stood in the middle of the kitchen, guzzling it down. When she saw her younger brother, Carla looked at him angrily and pointed at his chest.

"You had me worried. What has gotten into you lately?" she snapped.

His sister was the only person he could be completely honest with and not suffer any repercussions for it. "I have a crush on someone."

Carla shook her head. "You don't throw up and pass out several times because you have a crush on someone."

"No, it's not like that. I was just stressed out because I thought I scared him away."

"Wait, you said 'him.' Are you --"

He interrupted, "I..." He paused before storming out of the kitchen and going back into his room. She followed him inside.

"Talk to me, Ray," she demanded.

Ray let it slip to his sister that he was gay. Now he had to admit to it or else he was going to stay in a constant state of embarassment. When she entered his room, Ray told her to close the door behind her.

"I am," he spoke quietly.

"You're... gay?"

Ray didn't want to say the word "gay." He felt that if he declared that he was gay, being "gay" sounded like he was only attracted to the same sex. He felt that he was falling for Steve as a person, not because of his gender. He didn't know how to describe his feelings. Was he sexually attracted to the buck at all? He wasn't completely sure, though seeing Steve in diapers got him aroused initially. He knew that he definitely wanted to be a companion. He knew that Steve would accept him and his diaper-wearing ways. He also felt that the relationship could help ween him off of the medication he was taking. Yet his feelings for Steve was evolving so quickly, he was left tongue-tied.

"I don't know," he told his sister with a sigh.

Carla sat beside him on his bed. "You can be honest with me," she said.

Frustrated with his lack of responsiveness, Ray left his room. He walked into the bathroom, splashed some water on his face and slapped himself awake. He didn't know what to say or what to do. It was obvious that Ray needed some time alone. After he put on his sweater and pants, Ray briefly apologized to his sister for "being weird," and left to go on a walk. As he walked down the street, he continued looking toward the horizon, hoping for a revelation up ahead. Instead, there was traffic and cars buzzing around him. His limp, distressed tail dragged on the sidewalk. All he kept thinking about was how embarrassed he felt the night before. But somehow, by the end of the night, Ray went to sleep thinking that everything was going to be alright. Steve's words and assurance carried him through the night.

Suddenly, Ray's cell phone rang. He stopped to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"It's coach," said Steve.

Surprised, the roo covered his maw briefly, paused and replied, "Hi coach!"

"Call me Steve," he told Ray. "Are you feeling better today?"

"Yeah. Thanks for helping me out."

"No problem. Hey, are you free sometime this afternoon?"

Ray blushed momentarily. "Um, no. Yeah... yes, I'm free."

"If you have nothin' to do at two, come on by to my place."

"Sure!"

Ray arrived at Steve's house later that afternoon. He walked side-by-side with Steve as the coach gave him a tour around the house. Obviously, there was chemistry between them: a sharp, energetic forward and a young, retired point guard. Two men shared the love for the same sport and a secret that ultimately brought them together.

The roo listened to the coach, who told stories about his days playing professionally. He told Ray about the awkwardness he had with his fellow teammates. One time, Steve changed out of his basketball uniform. Players noticed that wore diapers and sometimes the diaper was dirty. One of the teammates viciously teased Steve for "stinking up the locker room." The teasing went on for about an hour. When Steve ignored the teasing, the teammate grew exasperated and pushed Steve against the locker. This triggered a fight between the two men. Steve rammed his antlers into his adversary's right shoulder, puncturing him. The scuffle resulted in a three-game suspension for both of them. Though the rest of his team was okay with him wearing diapers around them, Steve learned to be more discreet about how much diaper he exposed.

"That's rough," said Ray.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "What happened in the past stays in the past, as far as I'm concerned."

They walked into Steve's bedroom. Ray sat at a corner of the bed and looked around the room. "You got a nice place."

"Thanks."

Eventually someone had to break the ice. "I've given you a hard time, haven't I?" asked Ray.

Steve pulled down his pants, placed them in his closet and stretched his arms casually. He chuckled. "No. To be honest, I'm not used to seeing someone else, well... in diapers," he said as he flexed before Ray in his diaper.

The buck removed his t-shirt, threw it on the floor. He had some muscle on him.

"I'm sorry about being so forward, y'know. I was excited that there was someone else who --"

"Yeah, yeah. I understand. Now that we're together, alone and nobody else can bother us, I wanted to ask you this. Where do we go from here?" asked Steve. "Because, really, I'm not technically supposed to be fraternizing with teammates. I was hoping to maintain a distance for the sake of impartiality, if that's the right word."

Ray nodded. "I thought about that."

"It's a strange position for me to be in. Even though it's just you and me right at this moment, I don't know what to say to you. I just..."

Suddenly, Steve came up to Ray and kissed him on the lips. Ray was surprised with the kiss, but he gave in and closed his eyes. He was never kissed by another male before. It was exciting. Steve gave him a very passionate kiss; it was clear he was an expert in tongue hockey. Ray pulled away from the kiss, quickly took off his shirt and went back to the action. After a while, Steve was on top of the young basketball player. The buck's diaper continously grazed against Ray's crotch. This was all happening while Steve was kissing him around his neck. Having the big, burly buck dry humping him with his thick disposable diaper got Ray hot and sweaty. When he felt Ray squirm a little, Steve pulled away from him temporarily to help him remove his shirt.

The kissing continued. Steve licked the roo's chestfur, and bit down on his nipple a little; not too hard but hard enough. Clearly Steve was a player in more ways than one. Then his head moved further down Ray's chest until he got to the crotch. Ray's jeans were still on. Steve unzipped Ray's fly and found what he was looking for. Ray's diaper was wet, moist and had an irresistable musk. Steve buried his face in the wet diaper -- worshipping it, licking it. Ray bit his lip, moaned and closed his eyes again with sexual adrenaline jolting his body. Ray was so excited, he even wet his diaper a little! His diaper began to bulge more dramatically around Steve's nose. Steve could hear a slight hissing noise because he was so close to the diaper. Ah, relief!

Steve gnawed on Ray's diaper and licked it a few times for good measure. Ray got aroused very quickly when he finished wetting. He was so aroused that an outline of his shaft appeared around the dramatically soggy bulge. Steve lapped the bulge, and pulled down the elastic waistband just a little bit to get a taste of the real thing. The words, "Oh my God! He's going to suck my dick!" were swirling enthusiastically through the roo's mind. And then it happened. Steve took in the fully hardened shaft and sucked on it passionately. Ray leaned back in bed with his arm covering his eyes. He winced with intense pleasure as he felt the buck's tongue wrap around his member so masterfully. The only sound he could hear was his heavy breathing. He looked up briefly and saw his coach savoring every moment.

When he felt that he was about to cum, Ray watched as Steve pulled back. The sexually aggressive coach climbed over Ray until his diaper was touching the roo's nose. Ray determined that the coach had soiled his diaper. It looked soggy in the back, brownish and plentiful. Ray sniffed Steve's diaper and started masturbating to the scent that was rapidly filling his nostrils. It was the type of smell that reminded everyone in the near viscinity that someone was "stinky"; that someone "needed a change." It was that naughty smell that reeked of humiliation and hopelessness. For a split-second, Ray wanted to mess himself right then and there, but he couldn't. He was preoccupied with the moment. He was loving it.

Ray never sucked cock before. He nervously pulled the front of Steve's diaper down just to see what would happen. Ray positioned Steve so that he could have full access to the buck's hardened organ. When he was face-to-face with it, Ray opened his maw and carefully wrapped his tongue around it. It felt so natural. He tried convincing himself that he was merely sucking on a popsicle -- a very fleshy popsicle. He was successful. It tasted good. When he heard the buck moaning happily, Ray knew he was on the right track. He got into it. The coach was very proud of his player. Ray handled the responsibility surprisingly well. The coach reveled in his authority by humping into his young protege's mouth. Ray could barely think because he was so ecstatic. He was curious to see what other tricks Steve had up his sleeve.

Ray suggestively hiked his tail and teased Steve. The manly buck answered the call. He tugged down the roo's diaper, exposing his eager tailhole. Ray curled his toes in preparation. Coach pushed himself in after the roo wrapped his legs around him. The first time his coach poked inside, Ray yelped. The shaft felt so big inside him. Then it went in a little deeper. Before he can cry out in pain, Ray felt Steve stop for a moment to collect himself. Then it started. The humping started off slowly. Ray bounced up and down in bed with his eyes closed, smiling as he was being dominated by his long-time crush. Suddenly, Steve changed positions and ordered Ray to lay on his stomach. He complied. When the buck grabbed onto both sides of his hips, Ray was ready. It started slow, but Ray wanted it rough. Steve gave it to him rough. When he wanted it fast, Steve followed through like they were communicating desires telepathically to each other.

Not a word was spoken. Both men were completely entranced by the experience. Ray was getting pounded and he was loving every minute of it. Steve was squeezing out every bit of sexual tension he had. The last time he had sex, he was concerned about having an accident during intercourse. At the moment he discarded his concerns, Steve ejaculated heavily inside Ray. He had no idea he was coming that soon. Ray was taken by surprise. He could feel a creamy, sticky substance suddenly fill him up. He felt like he was being "owned," that Steve mated him. The feeling, however, was created unintentionally by Steve. Regardless, Steve was satisfied with the fuck. Before he could completely pull out, Steve felt his bladder muscles loosening up. When he was about to react, piss gushed out of him. It got flushed into Ray's prostate. It was icing on the cake for Ray, who came on the coach's blanket. He came so hard that his body was paralyzed with pleasure for a few minutes. When he opened his eyes, he rolled them in ecstacy.

"Did we just have gay sex?" asked Steve.

Ray laughed. "I think we did. That was awesome."

Steve pulled out and rubbed sweat off his forehead. "You think so?"

"Yeah. I don't think I can sit down, should I?"

"Don't bother."

"So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?" asked Ray.

"You're still a member of the team. I have to respect the others. I got an idea!" Steve exclaimed. "You play well, do what I ask you to do, and you'll be rewarded. Think of this as a 'preview' of what I can offer you."

"You serious?"

"Absolutely. For now, let's relax."

Ray cuddled up with the coach. They were both sweaty, naked and exhausted. Now that everything was laid to bare, it was clear that they were head over heels for each other. The age difference didn't matter much. The coach-player relationship didn't matter much. They were very comfortable. Steve couldn't think of a time, in his life, when he felt fully acknowledged and accepted for who he was along with his secret. He looked over at Ray, who nuzzled his shoulder and curled up beside him, and saw someone who also wore diapers and dealt with incontinence. He couldn't believe the odds. Interestingly, Ray and Steve were able to take something that severely embarrassed them and turned it into a sexualized trump card. Steve previously thought it couldn't be done.

Ray, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. It was true that he started wearing diapers as something to protect him from wetting the bed. But nobody would realize that the roo would actually enjoy wearing and using his diapers. He was proud to wear them, and being with Steve, the stigma was completely removed. Not only that, he no longer felt nervous. He was prone to anxiety attacks, but the bond he shared with Steve was the cure to all of that. In hindsight, the anxiety was ridiculous. The restraints, he placed on himself, were ridiculous. He was now loved, and he was loved by someone who knew how to love him. If his sister were to ask him if he was gay, he'd happily answer "yes." He believed that no female could ever emulate the same gravitational force of sexual electricity as his coach.

The forward did exceptionally well in his games. He ultimately caught the eye of a talent scout who was interested in signing him to a professional team. And when the victories continued to pile up, the rewards grew more spectacular. The spontaneity, the experimentation -- under the guise that it was so good to be "naughty" -- was happily overwhelming. With his coach and lover by his side, Ray went to the regional championships and dominated the court. For every defensive stop and effortless jumpshot, Steve let Ray see a sparkle of his eye and a hearty smile. Ray smiled back every time, and dedicated himself to the game with confidence on and off the court. He stopped taking his medication, and quickly established a reputation of being a reliable, healthy player.

But there was someone who was getting very suspicious. Coach Dupak manned the sidelines and watched how close his forward and the coach were. They were looking at each other so fondly -- so lost in each other's eyes. Something was going on, the gator thought. He wasn't stupid. He could see right through them. In fact, he could see Ray's diaper right through his shorts. The shorts were transparent enough to show the wetness indicators as part of its bulky exterior. Dupak was going to watch Steve and Ray very carefully.

Story to be continued next week! Stay tuned!

Nothing says, "I'm Spiderman!" more than wetting your pants

I dig this thread.

Good Idea: Ban someone on your host who you think is a troll.

Bad Idea: Ban your own IP address by accident.

I also believe mudslinging is an addiction; a disease. The only cure is to turn off the television and do research.

May 13, 2011

I bought a bag of adult diapers online. It was the brand that Wade wore. They were comfortable. Got them overnight shipping. When I got that nice, discreet box in the mail, I knew right away what was inside. I ripped that box open like a young kid on Christmas day. The box contained several stacks of diapers. There were about 72 diapers in total. I spent a lot on the case, but it was worth it.

The daily routine changed into this. I get out of bed and remove the diaper if it's wet. I take a shower, towel off and put on a new diaper. I eat breakfast, preferably cereal with a side of granola bar and orange juice. I head to work with a backpack of diapers just in case I need to change during work. I arrive at work, place the backpack by my feet. To eliminate suspicion, I also pack my work binder and bottled water inside of it. I call it an "informal suitcase." If anyone comes across my backpack and finds what's inside, I'll tell them that I'm the sole caretaker of an overgrown baby named Huey. The diaper stays on, and I'm the productive worker bee that people want me to be. I'll happily take the marching orders and lead people to believe that I'm not soiling my undergarments while I talk to them.

Going to work diapered has been an acquired taste. At first, I walk in and expect people's eyes to naturally wander over to my newly expanded, puffy waist. I expected people to ask questions, raise eyebrows and treat me differently. That didn't happen. I thought that if I made one slip and bent over that my diaper would show, and I would be the laughingstock in the office. That didn't happen either. There were a handful of personal nuisances, though. When I sat down sometimes, the diaper would bunch up underneath me. It wasn't uncomfortable per se, but it was a little distracting. There was a chance that someone could bump into me and graze against the noisy, crinkling "brief." I had to somewhat be on my guard if I was walking around, standing or sitting in a room full of people. When it came to meetings in our conference room, I was always the first arrive and the last to leave. I was fine with the adjustments.

I have to admit that I jumped into the diaper-wearing fetish very quickly. There wasn't much of a transition. I often thought about it, but I wasn't given enough time to think it through because of work. I worked on an ad campaign for potato chips and designed a concept for a vending machine that was placed in locations near schools and on campus. The vending machines would sell pre-packaged lunches that included a sandwich, soft drink and one brand of potato chip. In my twisted mind, I believed that kids would be subconsciously "hooked" on the brand because that brand would be synonymous with the convenience of having the instaneous, all-in-one lunch. The superiors loved the idea. The chip company we worked for started sending us concept illustrations of the vending machine. I had become the "idea guy." As a result of being the "idea guy," I worked overtime. I wasn't necessarily thrilled with the idea of spending any more time in the office, but money talks -- and it told me to shut up.

An hour before I was allowed to clock out for the day, I had to wet. There were people all around me. I'm working at my cubicle. I thought, "Maybe I can drip." I wouldn't outright flood my diaper. I would drip along, and that would help me make it through the rest of the hour. But because I'm not used to wearing diapers yet, I was still pee-shy. My bladder muscles locked up from being nervous. I tried to be rational. I thought to myself, "It's not a big deal," but my body disagreed. Toilet. No exceptions. This time, I wasn't going to run to the restroom. I was going to sit at my desk and work. It was my way or the highway. And so I sat. What I realized was that I was having trouble wetting while sitting down. So what would happen if I stood up? I did just that. I rose from my chair, stretched my arms and yawned. Not before long, I started to wet my diaper. I started to familiarize myself with the soothing feeling of warmth expanding around my crotch. I looked down at my pants. No embarrassing stains. Nothing. When I was done, I sat back down. Mission accomplished. Found a compromise.

I drove home in my wet diaper. I was getting used to it. I enjoyed the thrill of wetting my diaper in public. Though people in my workplace knew who I was on the outside, they had no idea what was happening inside my pants. I was breaking the rules. And if I was the boss of that company, I would happily admit to breaking the rules and flaunt it if I was challenged or provoked. But because I am an employee, I have to be on my best behavior. Serving in the Marines gave me an edge. When I came back to this country, I felt very entitled. There was righteousness. I fought for freedom in my country. They shouldn't question what I do and why I do it. If a Marine wants to wear diapers, he should. Why should I ever sell myself short? There was a certain pride to exercising my right to wear. It wasn't like I was going to work buck naked with my cock and balls out.

When I returned home, I stayed in my wet diaper. I slipped out of my slacks and put on jogging pants so it was easier for me to walk around. I gave Wade a call once I sat down and collected my thoughts.

"Hey Wade. This is Shane. How are ya?"

"Now that I hear your voice, good."

I'm a sucker for flattery. "I wanted to call and thank you for the treat the other day."

"Sure. It was the least I can do. I'm usually stuck with guys who only hang out for a blowjob."

Felt somewhat guilty when he said that. "You have an interesting story to tell."

"Sorry we weren't able to play around, y'know?"

"No, don't worry about it. I enjoyed the Starbucks and the diaper."

"Did you buy any more?"

"I did, actually. A case from XP Medical."

There was laughter on the other end. "Way to go, champ!"

I talked about how I incorporated my new-found hobby into my daily life. He was amused. He wanted to provide me suggestions for how I could have more fun with diapers among other things. He invited me to a little get-together in Castro on Saturday night. I was unsure about it. Being as devious as I am, I couldn't place myself in the middle of Castro and appreciating all the sexual-tinged shenanigans and bullshit that happen there. Then again, going there would make an interesting weekend. I told him to count me in. He e-mailed me directions to some club with a trendy German name that I can't readily pronounce. He told me that the club staff were accepting of "what we do," but I took that as "proceed with caution." I wasn't ready to take my public persona and blatantly bend it in certain areas. I was going into uncharted territory. For the first time through, I decided to attend the event and blend into the crowd.

May 14, 2011

We went to some place called Wet Dream. I met up with Wade at the bar. There was this obnoxious techno music blaring in the background. There were strobe lights everywhere. I don't get seizures from it, but I get headaches easily. Going into Wet Dream, I was already in a bad mood. I felt like I was out of my element. There were several men dancing around the place, half-naked, wearing revealing speedos and thongs. It was excessive. I grew up in a conservative household. I wasn't familiar with this shit. It's not my scene. Regardless, Wade took me by the hand and walked me through the place until we ended up at a corner of the venue. There, three man sat at a large, half circle-shaped booth. They wore a variety of harnesses. What surprised me was that they were all wearing diapers in public. To be fair, the diapers were somewhat obscured by the laced, assless chaps. Really? What the fuck was going on here?

"Guys, this is Shane. He's a new diaperboy," Wade told the group.

I waved. Didn't say anything. Mind was still trying to chew the concept of seeing some men wearing diapers in a gay bar. Interesting, but still not used to it.

One man extended his hand to me. "Glad to meet you. I'm Rob," said a tall, bear-ish man in his late-20s, I presume. He spoke with an Austalian accent. He was handsome, muscular and ironically reserved for a man who's flaunting his fetish.

"I'm Nick," chirped a youthful, thin man beside him. He definitely looked younger than 20, but babyfaces can be deceiving. Sure enough, he looked the part: clean-shaven, small enough waist to fit into a baby diaper probably. He had an infectious smile.

Another man hovered over the table to shake my hand. "Save the best for last, eh? I'm Michael." I could tell by his handshake that he was the most assertive of all the men in the group. He had the supermodel face, wavy brown hair and striking green eyes. His chest was covered in tattoos. He was the live-wire type.

"I imagine that the club owner is fine with you in diapers like this. He's not worried about leaks or anything, is he?" I asked the group half-jokingly.

Rob nodded his head and rubbed his chin satirically. "The newbie's got a good point. I think I should lay down the law on those diapered queers, don't you think?"

I did a double-take. "You're the owner?" I pointed to Rob.

"In the flesh. Well, I'm a co-owner. No other bar around these parts allows guys in diapers to enter. This place is obviously the exception, and I like that."

I have to admit: I was impressed. I wasn't ready to put down my guard just yet. In my paranoia, I thought it was possible that a big prank was being pulled on me. There was some sort of trap somewhere, I thought, so I tried to keep quiet and not incriminate myself any further. I tuned in and out of the conversation. When the music stopped, I could pay attention. They talked about life and love very casually and calmly as if they weren't having a conversation at a gay bar and surrounded with young bastards on MDMA or whatever the fuck kids are into these days. I kept getting distracted by the flashy cockrings and men with cliched 1970s porn moustaches. Another thought crossed my mind. What was the state of everyone else's diaper at the table? Were the diapers just for show or were they actually using them? Wade invited me to the table. I sat down with a crinkled thud. Clearly I was one of the boys. What now?

"Tell us about yourself, Shane. What's your deal?" asked Michael.

"I work in marketing, spearhead ad campaigns as Project Manager."

"Oh, oh!" exclaimed Rob. "You know what you should do, Shane... You should run ads for adult-sized Pampers. Make adult diapers more festive, you know?" He chuckled at his own suggestion.

I wasn't buying it. "When people think diapers, they think babies and sometimes old people. Nobody in between."

"Fuck the people," Michael chimed in. "Fuck them for trying to tell me what they think is best."

Nick shrugged cynically. "Shane has a point."

Michael crossed his arms. "Seriously, though. We're not harming anyone. We're not pedophiles. And newsflash: there are people out there who have to fuckin' wear diapers for reasons other than something to get off to. Why does the industry try to hide a valuable product like this?"

I replied, "Because we -- 'we' being society in general, I guess -- tend to obscure personal shame despite the fact that everyone has a flaw, has a vice, has something that could potentially hold them back. They don't need ads that remind them of the 'shame.' Me? I don't see a problem with it, and --"

"Of course you don't. I gave you one diaper to put on. You ended up buying a case."

Michael opened his eyes wide. "Holy Hell! It took me a while to accept diapers as something worth investing in. Boy, did Wade give you a good time or what?"

I chuckled nervously and shook my head. "No, no. He reminded me that I could keep my pants clean if I wore them."

Without me realizing it, I began to tell them about my accident in the car, and how that accident triggered my interest. They understood, especially Nick. Nick told me that he suffered from incontinence. He attributed the incontinence to some faulty wiring in his brain. Sometimes, he had control of his bladder. Other times he had no control. It was a roll of the dice, and he didn't want to roll snake eyes and spend his time trying to explain his way out of embarrassing situations. Poor kid. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. He lectured me about how "accidents" are not always fun. I understood. I really didn't want to listen to his anecdotes. He's a nice guy and all, but I didn't come to the club to hear a sob story. The others were inclined to agree. I could tell by their exasperated, shifting eyes and deadpan facial expressions. But things turned more awkward when Wade blurted out the fact that I previously served in the military. Now I wanted to hear more about Nick shitting himself and being miserable about it.

It's not that I wasn't proud of my service. I feel that my military life is one life I led. This life was different. Serving in the Marines was a very dignified path to take. I didn't want to taint and undermine my accomplishments by mixing that sort of discussion with diaper-wearing. Made me visibly uncomfortable. Wade noticed I went silent and he apologized. Not a problem. He didn't understand. To diffuse the strange silence at the table, Michael added that he served in the Navy for a while. This eventually snowballed into Michael reciting the lyrics to the Village People song, "In The Navy." Everyone at the table laughed. I found it a little funny. If that's what it took to change the topic, great. What really sealed the deal was when Rob whispered to me and said, "The Navy is where all the gay sex is. You've missed all the action!" The way he said it made me belt out in laughter. At this point, I didn't mind the blaring music. I was already in a pleasant trance -- hook, line and... stinker.

Drinks were on the house. Because Wade drove me over to the club, he gave me the go-ahead and knock down a few beers. Eventually, I got drunk. Memory was fuzzy. It wasn't that bad like I went completely dark and couldn't remember anything. One thing I remembered was when I was groped under the table. The thought that entered my head at that moment was, "Grab my crotch again and we'll see what happens..." I wasn't groped again. I didn't know who groped me, but I enjoyed it. I love the hands-on approach. Then we took a survey around the table to see who was top, bottom or switch. I remember declining to answer and saying something like, "Does it matter? Whatever!" and people identified me as a switch. I never understood the need to assign sexual roles. Call me old-fashioned. But the more I had to drink, the less I cared about such things. "Yeah, I pitch and catch," I admitted to them. "I play all the bases too." Whatever that meant.

Wade curled up to me at the table. His right shoulder grazed against my left. He nuzzled his head against mine a few times. At first I thought that was accidental, but I felt that he was getting cozy with me. The alcohol loosened us up a bit. It took a few bottles of Coors Light before I let my guard down completely. The night turned fun at last. I no longer felt completely out of place. Even in my drunken state, I was in disbelief that I was sitting at a booth in a gay bar with a group of guys -- including the owner -- in chaps and diapers. I admired how confident they were. To me, wearing diapers in public is inconceiveable. But they were obviously confident and the others at the club didn't care or stare. Everyone was a freak in their own unique way. I looked at my clothes and realized that I was the only one really pretending to be normal. That was a waste. And as the night went on, I grew tired. Nothing sounded better, to me, than to slip into bed with a diaper on and sleep peacefully. Wade showed no signs of wanting to leave. He was having fun talking to the guys. I couldn't complain, really. I was happy for him.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder without thinking about it. He sighed, turned his head toward me and grinned. When I saw his eyes, it sobered me up enough to really soak in the moment. I whispered to him, "I like you." I was very innocent about it. I didn't use the word "love." What I wanted to say was, "I like being next to you." My words were slurred and my body was getting heavy. He leaned up against me, and his weight contributed to my body feeling heavier. When I could no longer make out what the others were saying, I heard Wade whisper to me, "Let's go." He got up. I followed. I waved goodbye to my new diapered friends, slipped Rob a $20 tip for being a gracious host and left the club with Wade. Once we were outside, I took a deep breath and inhaled the nice cool breeze coming in from the west. The next thing I could remember was being dropped off in front of my apartment. I must have told him where I lived.

I fumbled the keys to the apartment before opening my front door. I turned on the lights and stumbled like an idiot into my living room. Wade was kind enough to turn the lights on.

"Are you gonna be okay tonight, Shane?"

I chuckled. "I think so. Thanks for the ride back," I told him.

"No problem, man. Have a good night."

As he was about to leave, I walked up to him. He turned around to face me. I gave him a kiss on the lips. He was caught by surprise. He must have liked the kiss since he went open-tongue right away. We kissed for about a minute. Suddenly, he removed his shirt. He helped me remove mine. We embraced, felt each other up. He had a nice thin, but muscular frame. I ran my fingers around his abs. My hands drifted down to his jeans. I felt the thickness of his diaper. I was close enough to him to hear the crinkling of his diaper. I unzipped his fly, reached into his pants to feel his damp diaper. His diaper had this irresistable musk. I could tell he wet himself a few times. There was a rich, musky odor. It was inviting. It spoke to me. I invited him into my bedroom. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I couldn't wait to experience the outcome.

I removed his wet diaper to suck his cock. He laid naked on my bed. I crawled over his waist to suck him off. As I sucked him, he was getting harder and harder. I took most of it into my mouth and didn't care. Truth be told, I never sucked dick before. But once I got into it, I found a rhythm that I could work with. In and out. Back and forth. He rubbed my hair in approval. I heard him breathing heavily. He was into it. I stopped sucking and went back to kissing him. Both of us were tired and didn't want to escalate our little adventure any more, so we mutually jacked each other off. I was fine with that. I could barely keep my eyes open, and now that my climax came and went, I wanted to go to sleep. Before I passed out at 1:45 AM, I saw Wade slip on his used diaper. He insisted that he'd change himself when he got back home. The moment I heard my front door close, I fell asleep -- naked and sprawled out on my bed. It was an unusually peaceful sleep.

May 23, 2011

After a while, you learn to do things in moderation. You get that huge thrill at first... when you're discover something that is a lot of fun. Then you do a lot of it. Then you get sick of it. This week, I decided to wear diapers whenever I was in the mood. When I wore diapers almost every day, it became a chore. When I wore diapers at work, I always had that extra reason to be self-conscious. The good news was that my body was slowing adjusting to wearing diapers, but the problem was that I was losing control over my bodily fluids. For a while, I thought that I could handle it, but the times I had to pee arrived almost suddenly. It was like, "Oh no. Not again!" I reacquainted myself with the toilet. I did so reluctantly. I began to feel like going to the toilet was an extra step that I didn't need to make. It was a very tedious process to me: find a bathroom, find a bathroom stall, close the door, lift the seat, unzip the fly, aim, pour, jiggle, flush, wash hands, dry hands, leave. To the average person, that was normal. I knew I wasn't normal anymore -- and I didn't mind that. If I could live my life without the toilet, I would.

I've been in contact with Wade. We started dating and taking each other more seriously. We haven't fucked much. I want to do more of it, of course, but I don't want to come across as a helplessly horny son of a bitch. We had some fun times since the time we went to Wet Dreams. We took the trolley to Fisherman's Wharf and dined on some seafood. I treated him to a nice dinner by the water. We ate and listened to some soft jazz music. Couldn't tap my feet to it. It was dangerously close to elevator music, but since I was with Wade, I was happy. We spent a day or two at Castro and held hands while we walked around. We were a couple. I was more comfortable being "out" like this. I was just one of the boys. We've also texted each other. Sometimes, he would text me during work and tease me. Bad idea, being when was being "bad" a bad thing? Sometimes, I'd get hard when reading his texts. To combat it, I immediately thought of Roseanne Barr in a revealing bikini. That always did the trick. Either that or Stephen Hawking in a pink dress with lipstick on.

"Have you ever messed your diaper?" he wrote to me in one text.

"Can't say that I have," I replied.

I lied. I thought about it from time to time, but the thought of shitting in a diaper scared me -- even at home. Wetting only was much more manageable. You can wet anywhere you want as long as you didn't smell too badly. But shit? No, I couldn't. Honestly, if the smell was more tolerable, then okay. Maybe. Then again, people who wear diapers 24/7 don't exactly have a choice. They're fucked. Going to the movies? Uh oh! Shit your pants. Want to go to see the San Francisco Giants play? Think again. Thousands of people are surrounding you. You shit your pants. People will suspect that you did it. Even if it wasn't intentional, people just know. They can sense it. I dared Wade to come up with creative solutions to overcoming those challenges. I knew that was impossible. But it's fun to speculate. The imagination is limitless. There were times that I thought about staying in a fully loaded diaper until someone decided to change me. But apply that to the real world, and you're stuck with a little more than a diaper rash.

Once every couple of days, I visited Wade at his house -- that is, whenever he wasn't preoccupied with work. Today, I visited him and brought him some Subway sandwiches. We like our footlongs. He brought out the potato chips and paper plates. We had a little party of sorts in his living room. We curled up on the couch and watched TV together. I was fully clothed, but he was wearing only a t-shirt and a diaper. I got used to seeing him that way. I wasn't diapered, but I didn't care.

"Not diapered today?" he said to me.

"Nah. Just taking a break from wearing," I replied.

"I thought you blazed through your case already."

"You think I'm that bad?"

He chuckled. "No. It would be funny, though."

"A big, leaky sink."

"You keep going and going and..."

"That's the Energizer bunny."

We joked and had fun at each other's expense. Once we got tired from all the laughing and carrying on, I cleaned up and put our trash away. We were full and satisfied. Eventually we started watching the late-afternoon marathon of "I Love Lucy." Lucille Ball was a genius. Her comedic timing was brilliant. Every episode had something that was so ridiculously funny that you stay glued to the television set, just to see how she would humiliate herself even more. When the embarrassment started to become a little painful to watch, Lucy would eventually redeem herself -- and everyone was happy. The End. She could be the biggest fuckin' ditz that ever graced the silver screen, but people loved and idolized her. Now, you look around and it feels like people will judge you on a more permanent basis if you fuck up somewhere -- even if your intentions were good. Then again, in the 1950s, a lot of things were taboo. Homosexuality was never mentioned or promoted. Lucy and Ricky Ricardo didn't even share the same bed. Since then, society transformed. Now, it's okay to invite people into the bedroom -- yet everyone is watcing what you do while you're in there.

I looked at Wade for a moment when he leaned against me. I looked at his diaper and thought to myself, "He's brave." He was very open about it, but he didn't shout it to the mountaintops. He trusted me a lot. When I was in the military, I felt very privileged to be trustworthy. I never dreamed of downplaying it. I looked at Wade and admired him for taking a risk to wear diapers, period. There are many sadistic vultures out there who want nothing more than to click on that YouTube video and see someone in a compromising position. There are cameras everywhere. There are people who will stop at nothing to exploit someone's interests, weaknesses and ruin lives for fun. I wanted to protect people like Wade. I felt a responsibility to make sure that his privacy is guaranteed. And this was strange because I wasn't thinking about myself. I never knew what it was like to be selfless. Then it hit me: he was my Lucy.

I had a change of heart. I decided to diaper up with him. It was only fair. He offered to put one on me, but I declined. He looked comfortable on the couch. By that time, he wrapped him in a blanket. I went into his closet, took one of his diapers and put one on. This was the first time that I didn't shake nervously with anticipation when I put one on. I was calm, not aroused. It was hard to diaper up while, y'know, being hard. Always had to push it down. This time, it felt like I had been wearing diapers for a long time. It didn't seem out of the ordinary. When I got back to the couch, he dozed off and was snoring lightly. I kissed the side of his face before sitting down beside him. I idly refastened my tapes when I heard a strange noise. I heard a muffled hissing noise coming from Wade. The sleepyhead was wetting his diaper. Obviously, he wore diapers long enough to wet while he slept. It was cute, I had to admit. I whispered into Wade's ear and told him he was a "good boy." He sighed happily.

"Thank you," he muttered suddenly.

"You're awake?" I was surprised.

"Yeah. Hold your nose."

I didn't, but I knew why he told me to. I heard a partially muted fart inside his diaper. I looked at his face. He opened his eyes and looked toward the television screen with intense focus. I heard something slither followed by a distinct, crinkly pop. He pooped in his diaper and smiled like a very devilish toddler. I got aroused just watching him drop a log into his diaper. He nodded, signalling that he was finished and that he was successful. The smell came around. It was not a scent that I was comfortable with. It was heavy, for sure.

"You pooped, didn't you? Didn't you?!" I teased.

He blushed. "No, no I didn't." What a cute, little liar.

"Admit it. You like the feeling of the mess coming out and tenting in your diaper. You're a big, stinky baby!"

"Say it again."

"A big, stinky baby!"

He started rubbing himself. "Again."

"A stinky little baby with a dirty diaper. You're a bad boy." I spoke in a dramatic, low voice.

Moaning, he squealed, "I am! I am!"

Wade's face turned red. He closed his eyes and groaned. He curled his toes and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He came into his diaper shortly after filling his diaper. This spontaneous moment turned me on. "I should try that!" I thought. The smell no longer distracted me. I rubbed the back of his diaper to check it out. It was solid, bulgy, brown and unusually heavy. The poor boy must have been constipated. Meanwhile, I felt my erection poking uncomfortably around the inside of my diaper. I wanted to fuck him and reward him for his dirty deed, but he was obviously not ready for me to pounce. Frustrated, I got up from the couch, headed into his bathroom to jerk off. I had a very hard orgasm, and I was fortunate to not make a mess. I pulled up my diaper, flushed the toilet and splashed some water on my face.

"You need help cleaning up?" I shouted to Wade from the inside the bathroom.

"I'm good. Thanks!"

After I jerk off and finish, the world seems unapologetically mundane. I look at things in a quasi-scientific lens. I came out of the bathroom and sat back down on the couch. Wade didn't move an inch. He looked at me, smiling as he sat with his fully loaded diaper still wrapped comfortably around his waist. Unlike before, I could objectively think. Here was a grown man who not only wore diapers. He also soiled them and was completely shameless about it. One could look at that and think that this person is a filthy, disgusting little pervert who should be thrown into a pool of battery acid. Or one can see someone who was obviously enjoying the experience -- but most wouldn't understand where this so-called "enjoyment" came from. To me, seeing Wade mess his diaper made me think about the experience itself and how it would feel if I was the one doing it. There's always that unsettling feeling of taking a shit. That feeling comes from holding it in. The pressure in your stomach will grind if you continue to resist. Your body fights you. You resist the urge. Then suddenly, you let it all go. You feel the mess pushing out and dropping into the diaper. It feels so good when it comes out. What's even more interesting: the mess never leaves you. It reminds you of how dirty you are.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" I asked him.

"Yeah." He stretched his arms, yawned and closed his eyes. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge if you want anything to drink."

I waddled to the kitchen and took out a can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge. By the time I came back to the living room, he was asleep. This time, he really was sleeping. He laid peacefully on the couch, leaving me no room to sit. I knew that it was my time to bow out. I tossed the blanket over him, tucked him in and rubbed the side of his youthful face. I tried to be quiet. I put on my clothes, slowly opened the front door and closed it behind me. I walked back to my apartment, thinking about how strange my life had become. It was a step up from seeing the casualties of war, that's for sure. And that stinky bastard got me entertaining the idea of messing. All my concerns, all my paranoia was thrown out the window. "So what?" I thought. "I'll figure out how I'll deal with it."

There will be more!

#6 but for a limited time. If the smell gets to me, I'll change.

I thought the commercials were a real breakthrough in incontinence marketing. Step 1: Eliminate the stigma of wearing diapers or "protective underwear" for people younger than 80. Nailed it.

I've been an AB/DL since I was 14 -- but mostly a DL. On Thursday, I had a conversation with someone who is more into the lifestyle I am, and I told him outright that I've lost any AB tendencies that I've had. The "adult baby" lifestyle doesn't sit well with me anymore. Since I became an AB/DL, I often struggled with the "adult baby" and "diaper lover" concepts -- trying to see where I fit in. TV shows like "Rugrats" influenced me to experiment with AB-related activity, but I was never able to imagine myself being in a crib and being taken care of by a "mommy" or "daddy." Now, just indulging in anything AB feels out of character. It feels forced.

Has anyone else grown out of their AB phase?

While diapered, do you have an easier or more difficult time using your diaper while you're located in certain places?

I find that I don't hesitate using my diaper -- and being comfortable about it -- when I'm hiking or in the wilderness. Something about the outdoors relaxes me. I get a little "pee-shy" when I'm out at a restaurant with friends.