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My Monday morning started just like most Mondays had started for the past several years, and my day was expected to be just another day at the office. I could not have known how my life would change, and it is only now, weeks later that I am allowed to describe the events.
I had finished my shower, finished my breakfast and gathered up my clean shirts, socks, suits and ties for the week of work that lie ahead. In the city I rented a small efficiency flat to avoid the punishing commute from my distant country home each day. Just before leaving for the two hour drive (on a good day with no traffic problems) I removed an adult diaper from my brief case, lowered my trousers and underwear, lay on the carpet and carefully completed the diapering of my middle aged bottom.
Since my youth, I had always liked the feeling of a diaper. It wasn't a particularly sexual attraction, but it did give me occasional pleasure and a heightened sense of arousal being properly ensconced. The long drive to my current job simply required the use of protection. Traffic would often stop completely for long periods of time along the urban expressway. Few exits were available, nor were there any rest areas.
Most trips were uneventful, and the dry diaper was promptly removed when I arrived in my private office where I looked over an accounting department as a middle manager. I would time my trip to arrive slightly before the receptionist so she wouldn't recognize the bulge in my slacks or hear the rustle of the plastic coating on the disposable diaper. For months, this was my Monday morning ritual.
Occasionally I would be very late or my arrival would be met with an important meeting or the need to be in an impromptu discussion. Diapered and in need of relief, I would need to balance the length of the meeting with my bladder control. Sometimes the pressure became unbearable and the chance to escape did not present itself. I would quietly and carefully relieve myself into my diaper; hoping it would not leak onto my suit pants. After the building opened, the restroom was always busy and a diaper change was difficult to hide. I would try to retire to my office and lock the door, hoping to remain uninterrupted longs enough to remove the diaper and clean up.
This Monday would prove to be different, and my life would be forever changed.
The traffic was light and I arrived at my office a few minutes before the office opened. One of my subordinates, Carol, had a smaller office just next to mine. Carol was twenty years younger than I, and was unmarried. She had, just one year before, adopted an infant son from Guatemala. Carol was attractive and shapely, but our relationship was purely business. This morning, Carol met me as I arrived at my office door, carrying a small shopping bag. She had an unusual facial expression and walked into my office immediately behind me, closing the door and pushing the lock button in the door handle. It was not unusual for her to enter my office and close the door, but locking it seemed odd at that moment.
Before I could get myself situated, she sternly instructed me to come beside her at the front of my large desk. I complied. She reached into her shopping bag and removed a small envelope of photographs. I expected pictures of her son, but was horrified to see a number of photographs of me in my office alone, removing my diaper. And worse, she had several photographs of me at my computer visiting what was clearly a pornographic website. The images were clear and undeniable. Since viewing pornography at our company was a dischargeable event, with zero tolerance, I immediately felt weakness in my knees became pale and nervous and wondered what her motive was. My uncertainty about the purpose of showing me these pictures became immediately clear.
I asked her where she got the photographs, and she replied;
"It doesn't matter where I got them, it matters what happens next as to what I do with them. And, in case you get any ideas, I have already copied them into an email addressed to your boss, the division VP, and co-workers. The message is set up with a delayed sending command. If I don't revise the date every few days, the email message goes out automatically."
"So what do you want from me?" I replied, figuring this was an extortion attempt in the making. I expected her response to be framed in either a large sum of money or a promotional raise.
Carol made a fist with her left hand and brought it up hard striking my groin. Even with the padding of the disposable diaper the impact caused great pain in my testicles. I partially doubled over and as I began to protest, she shoved a rubber ball gag into my mouth, even before I could raise my hand in defense.
Carol immediately and sternly warned me to not move. In my confused state of mind and groin pain, I complied.
"Don't play games with me little boy. When I first noticed that you arrived Monday mornings wearing a diaper, I thought it was just your middle age and maybe health problems. Only after I hid the nanny camera in your office did it become clear to me that you had a diaper fetish." She said with a smirk. I was more worried that you were a pedophile. I wanted to remove the ball gag, and raised my hand to pluck it from my mouth. She quickly grabbed my hand and pulled it back down to my side.
"Have you ever wet your diaper?" Carol asked.
I couldn't talk because of the gag. Carol used her fist to strike my groin again. My pain doubled.
"When I ask you a question that requires a yes or no, you can nod your head, you don't need to speak. Again, have you ever wet your diaper?" Carol asked with far more sternness in her voice.
I nodded yes.
Carol replied: "Then you don't have just a diaper fetish, you are really a big baby...an adult baby. And, I am going to help you!"
I didn't know what to think. But I didn't really think I needed any help! But, it really didn't matter anyway, as I was to quickly learn. Carol ordered me to turn around and put my hands high on the wall in front of my desk with my feet together. She took the strap on the ball gag, which had been poorly administered after being shoved into my mouth, and fastened it around the back of my head.
Carol then reached in front of me and unfastened my belt, lowering my dress slacks and underwear, to my shoes. She admired my disposable diaper and remarked that it looked just like her son's; only bigger. I could not see her movements with my face to the wall, and I did not dare to move, as she was clearly capable of inflicting pain. I could hear the rustling of co-workers arriving outside my office. For a split second I thought of making a break for the door, but my mouth was gagged and my pants were around my ankles and I was wearing a diaper. Not something I really wanted to try to explain to my staff, and I didn't feel that my life was threatened.
Carol lifted each of my legs working off my pants and placed my slacks on my desk chair.
Carol ordered me to spread my legs, which I did without hesitation. She reached into the front of my diaper and declared: "Well, little boy, it appears that you're still dry. No need to change a dry diaper." Carol then removed something from her bag. She reached up and grabbed my left hand and pulled it down in front of me instructing me to hold onto the object she had passed in front of my body. I could not identify the thing by the feel, but it was flat and metallic, like a woven wire. Carol then grabbed the bottom of the object and pulled it between my legs, bringing it tight to my diapered crotch. She took the right side of the object and fastened something around my leg that latched with a click. Similarly, she fastened something on the left leg and I heard a similar click. Then she used both hands to pull the waist band that I had been holding, around to the back and made it fast with another click. I could feel the firmness that the object caused against my diaper.
As she held my shirt against my chest, Carol ordered me to look down, so I could get a clear look at my diaper's support. It was not like anything I had seen before. Fine woven metal into flexible ribbons which were fastened together in various directions to form an open-mesh underwear-like support; it looked absolutely medieval. The clicking was the noise from small padlocks which prevented the device from being removed. And because of the coverage which the whole affair afforded, I could not remove my diaper at all.
"That should keep it in place for today!" Carol sounded proud of her handiwork.
"Put your slacks on and make yourself neat. Oh, and I suggest you go light on the coffee this morning. That's not the best diaper and it needs to last you all day." She remarked as she pulled the gag from my mouth and returned it to her shopping bag.
"You know where I live, so I expect to see you at my house tonight by 6:30 sharp!"
As I began to stutter in advance of forming a sentence, Carol again struck my groin with her fist. My testicles were better protected against her blow, but her intentions were clearly understood; "6:30 at your house, OK;" was my stunned reply as I sat down.
By this time I was sweating profusely, feeling jittery and confused about what had just happened. My diaper was still dry but the locking device was uncomfortable, and when I sat, the metallic ribbons caused pressure on my penis. I wasn't quite sure if I liked the sensation or if it was uncomfortable.
Carol turned to face me and smiled as she opened the office door to leave.
"Be a good little boy today and I will give you a surprise tonight." She said softly as she turned and walked from my office.
During this encounter with Carol, my secretary had arrived and was turning on the office equipment and her computer. She was surprised when I called her from my desk instead of simply walking across the aisle to her cubicle.
"Can you re-arrange my schedule today, Lorna? I'm not feeling too well and I think I will spend the day with my door shut, focusing on my paperwork." I said.
Lorna just nodded.
I closed my office door again. I needed time to think and understand what had just gone on. As I walked from the door to my desk, I opened the fly of my slacks to examine the contraption that was now binding my diaper to me. I contemplated trying to cut it off, but quickly realized that my office scissors could not cut the finely but strong woven wire ribbons. Anyway, the matter of the photographs Carol showed me, and my career caused me to reconsider any foolish actions. After all, my life was not in jeopardy; only my job, career and general well being!
About this time I recognized that I had not urinated for over three hours and the discomfort was growing. I did not want to wet my diaper given the long day ahead, so I decided I would try to hold out for the day. As the balance of the morning passed, my mind continued to return to my predicament with Carol and the 'diaper retainer' that was securely locked to my torso.
Just past noon, Carol stopped by, knocking before entering. She was holding a cold 20 ounce soft drink. She sat it on my desk and said;
"I figured you wouldn't be going out to lunch today, and I thought you might be thirsty. Here. Drink up!"
Liquids were not what I needed at this point. But Carol was showing that same intense look that I had seen just before I got her first blow to my groin, earlier. So, I drank.
Carol said with a diabolical smile, "Finish it, I'll wait."
As I finished the soda, Carol reminded me that I was expected at her home at 6:30. I just nodded in affirmation.
By 3:00 pm I was ready to explode. Without any control left, I filled the diaper with pee. Fortunately, I was wearing a common brand overnight disposable style and I hoped that it could hold the fluid. Sitting on a wet diaper in a business suit, however was another matter; at least the retaining device kept the soggy diaper from drooping. I determined that this might be a good time for a stroll to the data processing department, where there was plenty of noise and lots of fresh air, should my wet diaper begin to smell.
Before I knew it, it was quitting time. My nerves had gotten to me, and the day was pretty much a bust for getting work done. My diaper was very wet and uncomfortable, yet had not leaked. With rush hour traffic, I would need to leave immediately to be on time at Carol's house. Carol had left about ninety minutes earlier to retrieve her son from his sitter. I thought again about skipping out on her; remembering the not-so-veiled threat with the photographs. Basically, I was screwed! I figured that she planned to present her monetary demands, work her silly fantasy plans out, 'show me who really the boss was' and tomorrow would be another day, albeit with a slightly different working relationship with one of my key subordinates.
I took a wad of paper towels from the men's room to line my car seat in case the sopping wet diaper leaked while driving to Carol's. Fortunately the disposable held and I arrived visibly dry. Since I had not been to my flat, all of my clothes were still in my car.
Carol met me at the door and inquired if I had dropped my wardrobe off at my flat. I replied; "No, my clothes are in the car."
Carol said; "Go get them; you will be staying here tonight." I waddled back to the car to retrieve the hangers and bag. As I was walking Carol blurted out "looks like you need a diaper change, little boy!" I'm sure that the neighbors working in their yard could hear her comment.
I choose not to reply.
Upon entering her home, I was immediately aware of the presence of her small son. He was in a play pen in the living room, heavily occupied by his toys. I sat my clothing and bag on the foyer floor. Carol summoned me to her main floor bathroom.
"Go in there and remove your clothing" she said, pointing to the bathroom, "and leave the door open so I can see what you are doing!" she demanded.
Thus far, I still had my pride, as Carol had not seen my naked body. That would now change. Carol soon entered the bathroom when I had finished removing my clothing. Flash! She took a photograph, saying nothing. Next, she produced a tiny key and removed the locks and the woven wire diaper retainer.
"So, how did that feel? Did you enjoy being unable to remove your diaper?" She paused, but I did not reply.
"My, my; this little boy is very wet!" She said as she pulled down the drooping and heavy diaper.
"Go stand in the tub, but don't turn the water on. Do not speak, and whenever I need to attend to you in any way, I want you to take your hands and hold on to your ear lobes and close your eyes. That way your hands will be out of the way and my work will be a greater surprise. Understand?"
Yes, I nodded and followed her command without question. In my fear I had not even realized that she was looking at me completely naked for the first time. The apprehension of what might happen next overwhelmed my shyness reaction.
Carol removed the shower wand and adjusted the water to the desired temperature. She closed the tub drain and drew some warm water into the tub while I stood. My mind was wondering what would happen next.
"Sit" she ordered, and I lowered myself onto the shower seat she had placed in the tub.
Carol produced a wash cloth and baby shampoo and began to wash down my torso and my groin, using both hands to lather my penis and scrotum. I began to develop an erection, as she continued.
"Down, little boy, you are far too young for that!" She said as she continued rinsing the soap from me. The words didn't have much impact. Then I felt a striking pain on the head of my penis. Carol had used her finger and thumb to strongly snap the most sensitive part. The pain was intense and I loudly protested; "What are you doing to mmmmmmffffff"
Before I could finish the sentence of protest, Carol stuffed the soapy washcloth into my mouth, grabbed my testicles with the other hand and began to squeeze, hard.
"You are not to speak unless spoken to. And when I ask a question you will nod yes or no. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" She demanded.
I didn't speak. I nodded yes. She released her hold. My erection was gone. The wash cloth was removed from my mouth but the soap taste remained.
"Stand up and don't move" Carol ordered and she patted me dry, applying baby powder to my private parts. When finished, Carol said "Go into the kitchen and stand by the table. I'll be there in a minute."
I was becoming self conscience of my nakedness as Carol arrived into the kitchen. She spread a large beach towel on the table and instructed me to lie down, hands on ear lobes, eyes closed and knees bent at the edge of the table so that my legs would hang down towards the floor.
Not being able to see what was to happen, my apprehension grew. I could hear Carol drawing water into a basin and bringing it to the table. Her intentions became immediately clear as the cold shaving cream was dispensed from the can onto my skin. Carol was about to shave my groin and scrotum. She began to remove the hair surrounding my penis; she drew the skin tight at my scrotum to shave the few hairs that grew there. She worked quietly. I could hear her son, still occupied in the play pen.
"Little boys don't have hair on their penis and neither will you! Does it feel different? She asked. I didn't move. There was a pause and she asked again with greater emphasis suggesting that I should respond.
"DOES it feel different?" Remaining silent and not moving my head to agree or disagree, once again I felt her grab one of my testicles in her hand and begin to squeeze firmly. I immediately nodded in agreement.
"That's better! I expect a response to my questions." She offered, somewhat reassuringly.
When she finished the shaving project she spread oil on my slightly irritated skin. Wiped off the excess and applied a small amount of baby powder. Then she instructed me to slide further back on the table and lift up my butt. I opened my eyes slightly to see what was to happen next. She slid a thick cotton diaper under my butt and eased my legs apart to bring the soft fabric between my legs. Adjusting it to fit, she pinned the material in place. Carol next produced an adult size pair of plastic, pull on waterproof pants. Over the feet and over the diaper they went. Just like a larger version of her infant son's current attire.
As she was adjusting the fit, she commented that I looked like a proper little boy. She instructed me to open my eyes, get up and walk to the full length mirror near the bathroom for a look. I sheepishly did as requested, and was met with an interesting sight. It looked awkward, and as I turned to see Carol she snapped another photograph.
"Just another cute photo for my future email" she laughingly remarked.
"After all that, I'll bet you are hungry." Carol said as she handed me a blanket to wrap around me.
"Here wrap up in this and go sit on the sofa while I attend to my son and get us all some food. And, don't cause me any problems."
I was completely confused. Here I was, in a thick cloth diaper and plastic pants; no clothes, sitting on my employees sofa, trying to figure out if I was more contented, afraid, turned on or all of the above; very confused, at least. Never having worn a cloth diaper as an adult, it had a much nicer feel than the disposable diaper common to my Monday commute. The diaper material was softer and cooler, but the thick bulk between my legs produced an unusual feeling and made walking difficult.
The TV was on and cartoons were playing. I just sat and watched. Carol picked up her son and went into her bedroom to attend to his needs. Then, I heard her moving about in the kitchen preparing food and feeding her son.
I could not see into the kitchen and was unwilling to move to get a view. Things were quiet and I didn't want to create a problem. After about 90 minutes, she reentered the living room with her son and a warm bottle. She said to me; "Take this bottle and feed my son while I finish our dinner. Watch him carefully. You might learn something." Carol positioned her son in my arms and positioned my hand with the bottle at his mouth.
After about 10 minutes, Carol returned with a tray containing food. She had prepared a frozen entrée for herself and what looked like oatmeal for me. I was not happy with the cuisine, but her earlier parting comment made me worry that she was planning on providing me with a bottle of warm milk! And, I had not eaten lunch. Food was food.
She took her nearly asleep son from my arms, patted his back until he burped and laid him on a blanked spread at the foot of the sofa. She sat next to me and handed me the small bowl of cereal and a small child's spoon. The cereal was warm, somewhat sweet but very bland. This was not regular oatmeal. 'Shorty' and I were eating from the same menu. I was not going to be satisfied with the quantity, but I also recognized that I was in no position to make a fuss. Surely, this would be over soon and I could eat a regular meal.
I said nothing. Just ate. Hoping that Carol would tire of this masquerade and I could get back to my flat to think things over and heal from my humiliation in private. Carol was finishing her dinner when she looked over and said "Oops, I forgot your drink. I'm sorry" as she quickly returned to the kitchen.
My earlier fears were to be proven true.
She came back with a giant size baby bottle with a large nipple affixed to the top. The contents looked like milk. Handing me the bottle, she said; "it should still be warm. You haven't forgotten how to suck have you?" I immediately nodded no and took the bottle to my mouth. Actually, it did take a few attempts to get the nipple working. The milk was warm and I was thirsty. Carol pushed my shoulder and caused me to fall sideways on the cushion of the sofa, as both of my hands were required to hold the bottle of milk. It was easier to suck the bottle in this position anyway, but it felt very baby-like.
Not far into the bottle I became drowsy. I was alert enough to recognize that I was quickly falling into a sleep-like state. Carol must have added something to the milk, I thought, as my previous level of stress would have kept sleep away for hours. Expecting this, Carol promptly said; "you look tired, are you falling asleep?" I nodded yes.
"Well, get up little boy before you nod off, I can't carry you to bed." She remarked.
I got up from the sofa, pulling the blanket over my shoulders and holding the bottle in my arm. Carol arose and grabbed my hand, leading me into a hallway and then opened the door to a small room near the bathroom. It was unlike the other doors within the hallway; this door was grey metal, opened into the hallway, instead of into the room, and was very solid looking. The room was very small and appeared to be a converted closet. Inside, filling the entire room was a single bed, not one foot was to spare in the room. One very small recessed light was in the ceiling and the switch was outside of the room in the hallway. The walls were of metal. The sheets were already on the bed and two blankets were neatly folded near a pillow.
Carol said; "give me the bottle and in you go."
"You can cover up as you need to and I will wake you in the morning. Is your diaper dry?" Carol thrust her hand into the front of my diaper just as I was nodding yes.
"Ok, then, climb in."
As I crawled up on the bed, Carol closed the door. I could hear the door lock from the outside. I quickly tried the knob, only to find that it would not turn. And, moments later the light went out.
"Good night little boy." She said as she walked down the hall.
It was absolutely dark in the room. Only a tiny sliver of light came up from the crack beneath the door. The walls were smooth and very solid, not drywall, but metal. I was in a cell. No light, no toilet (not that it mattered) and no way out. I almost immediately fell asleep.
BANG! Bang! BANG! "Are you awake?" Carol called through the door. I was startled from a sound sleep. I opened my eyes with great momentary confusion from the strange surroundings. I heard the door unlock and Carol was standing in her nightgown and robe in front of the door.
"It's morning. Get up now and come here." She said.
I grabbed the blanket to wrap myself in, but Carol pulled it away and returned it to my bed.
"I need to see my little boy without covers." She said.
"Is your diaper wet?" She asked as she thrust her hand into my diaper.
"Oh my little boy is wet!" Still confused from the startling wake-up I would have nodded that I was dry, but clearly something had happened during the night that I did not recall. I had lost control. Indeed, my diaper was wet. This had never happened before, even though I had occasionally worn disposable diapers to bed.
"Into the kitchen and on the table as you did last night. I'll be right along." She said. I walked into the kitchen and climbed onto the table as instructed and remembered to close my eyes and grip my ear lobes. I had no interest in another punch in the groin. Carol entered the room.
The morning was early, with darkness still in the sky beyond the kitchen window. My thoughts turned to getting to work, and I began to speak.
"I need to get to work...." Without being able to finish the sentence, Carol's hand covered my mouth.
"Forgotten the talking rules, have you???" She said sternly as she removed her hand from my mouth, and went to work removing my plastic pants and wet diaper.
"I left a voice message for Lorna indicating that you had called me early this morning reporting that you were ill and wouldn't make it to work today. I told her that you wanted me to take care of something for you, and when you called, you asked that I pass on the message to her." Carol announced. My heart sank; it looked this would be another long day of humiliation.
With Carol cleaning and handling my private parts, I could feel a hard on beginning and was afraid at what her reaction would be...SNAP!
Now I knew her reaction! And, the head of my penis stung from her high energy finger snap.
"Well," she said, "if you keep this up we are going to have to provide some additional training for you"
Carol left the room, quickly returning.
"Open your eyes, you will find this interesting, it's designed to prevent you from having an erection. Little boys aren't allowed to have erections." She said. I immediately deduced that the clear plastic device was some sort of male chastity clamp. Soon I would learn more than I wished.
Pointing to the two piece device, she drew my attention to a small cavity in the front past an unnatural bend in the hard clear plastic. I had trouble comprehending how any penis would fit into the device; it didn't look comfortable even if it was possible. Then she said this device was a custom design for her; Lexan and unbreakable. Wearing it would be good training. Even if I could, I would probably never have more than one erection when wearing it. She went on to demonstrate. My mind began to seriously wonder what she did in her time off work; the large baby bottle and nipple, the strange bedroom construction, and now this device.
Carol showed me that there was a small moveable piston at the front end of the internal cavity of the device, where the penis would fit.
"If you have an erection the penis lengthens and the head pushes on this tiny piston." Carol explained as she pulled a small plastic bag from her nightgown pocket.
"This packet contains a blend of mineral oil and jalapeno pepper juice. You see, if you get really hard and your dick presses the piston forward, the small packet will be pierced by that little point there on the end of the piston and the liquid will squirt onto the head of your penis." She explained with a smile as she assembled the packet in front of me. She sounded almost like an old high school teacher explaining a chemical reaction.
"Do you have any idea how that will feel?" She asked. I nodded yes, but my mind was searching my memory for any experience to compare.
"Let me just fix it onto you and we can getting you changed. Eyes closed." She instructed.
Before I could react, she had the bottom half fitted to my penis with my testicles passed around a slot in the lower section, which must have been necessary to keep the whole thing from falling off. I opened my eyes slightly to see what she was doing, figuring I would not be caught looking. I wanted to understand this thing so I could remove it if needed. Unfortunately I could not see what she was doing from my prone position on the table top. The device was snapped together place and some kind of tool was used to lock the pieces together.
It was bulky and felt strange, the added weight causing my penis and scrotum to drop deeply between my legs.
Carol finished applying baby powder and a fresh thick cloth diaper; and pulled on a clean pair of plastic pants; and led me off the table and into her bedroom.
"Sit" she instructed.
"Sit here on the bed and watch while I dress"
This was evil, indeed. Carol had a really great body. I had often admired it but knew to leave that subject alone at work. And, except for the occasional glance at her perky breasts and shapely hips, I never expressed my thoughts about her beauty. In her mid 30's she was still a "10". As an accountant, her attire was always conservative, loose fitting and unflattering to her shapely and well maintained body. Now she was standing in front of me in all of her beauty, shaved pussy and all. And, I was responding. The bend in the penis clamping device was causing great pain in my enlarging rod. It didn't feel like it was possible to get really big when constrained in the Lexan vise. Then she began to make seductive moves. And I continued to grow very painfully within the device. If only I could get my arousal under control.......
Something cool could be felt by the head of my penis. Then, WOW! Burning! Ferocious heat! It felt like my penis was being held over an open fire. I took my hand and tried to massage or somehow mitigate the pain. I screamed at the pain. Carol was clearly aware of my problem. And it was clear that her strip tease act had one intention only, I was to experience it for the rest of the day.
Carol, now naked approached me as I rocked back and forth. I was crying and moaning from the pain and had both hands trying to squeeze my penis unsuccessfully through a thick diaper and the plastic retainer. Nothing relieved the pain.
"Is my little boy hurting" Carol said, and pulled me up from the bed. She led me to my small bedroom and motioned for me to get on the bed. She closed and locked the door and turned out the light.
"I'll see you after work, little boy. By then the pain should be over. I'll bet that you'll be no problem tonight!" I could hear her say as she walked away from the locked door.
The pain was excruciating. The room was totally dark and I was beginning to understand the context of torture. I quickly removed the plastic pants and diaper to expose the diabolical plastic device that ensconced my private parts. The burning and throbbing, was so intense that any other purpose or thought was blocked from my mind; I had to do anything to make the pain stop. I had to do anything to get this contraption off my penis.
Within the darkness of the room, I could not see the device and attempted to evaluate its structure by feeling all surfaces and features. It would not pry apart and the several smooth shapes were not amenable to getting a grip for breaking. The liquid was slippery on the surface of the machine. A hacksaw would have been helpful. Then I remembered the pins in my diaper! "Brilliant," I thought. Finding the discarded cloth diaper, I removed a pin, leaving the pointed end open, hoping to use it to locate and 'pick' the locking mechanism that I could neither see nor understand.
In the light of day, this would be a daunting task, difficult at best; impossible most likely. For many tens of minutes (time durations were not easy to measure in this elevated sense of pain) I worked over every inch of the plastic device looking for the keyhole to the locking mechanism; not even understanding what the locking mechanism looked like, I was hoping for a miracle. I was sweating profusely, wiping my brow to keep the sweat from my eyes. Bad move. As my forehead began to burn, I realized too late that I had transferred some of the pepper extract to my forehead. My hands were now fouled with the chemical compound that was causing the incredible pain at my penis and scrotum. Moreover, the sweating had caused some of the liquid to travel down my groin and my tender butt hole was burning, also.
The pin was useless and the device remained in place. I could feel the burning extend to the inside of my legs and quickly realized that all my attempts at removal were simply making it worse. Tears of pain were constantly flowing from my eyes and had I been provided with even a rudimentary tool of destruction, I would have surely broken out of the cell-like room that I inhabited.
Exasperated at the situation, I lay back against the wall; I discovered the formula bottle from the night before. Apparently, Carol had tossed it into the room as I entered. Not surprising that I didn't notice her action, my focus was elsewhere at the time. Remembering the strong sedative nature of the formula that the bottle had contained, I decided that unconsciousness might be the best escape for the short term. Taking the nipple into my mouth, I found the taste to be the same as last night and proceeded to suckle the bottle of its remaining contents; perhaps a quart and a half of liquid.
The effect was not long in coming. Leaning against the cold metallic wall I fell soundly asleep.
Feeling a tugging on my neck and slowly being aroused, groggy from sleep, I could hear Carol loudly admonishing me, "Wake-up! Wake-up! Good god! Little boy, wake-up, you shit, wake-up!"
She scowled, "Jesus, what a mess! Get-Up"
As I slowly began to regain consciousness, my nose immediately signaled to me that something was very wrong with my current living accommodations. Groggy from the sedative, I could not tell what time it was, but I could tell that I was without diaper, ensconced in a plastic penis guard and pretty much covered with my own feces! In addition, I was now tethered to a chain around my neck and was, quite literally, being pulled out of the closet.
"Get into the bathroom, go sit in the bathtub and DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!" Were my orders from a highly pissed off Carol? The bathroom was just a few steps down the hallway from my little closet. I didn't say anything, and followed her instructions and climbed into the bathtub.
It appeared that, prior to being rudely awakened, I had been fitted with a thick rubber collar with padlock and ring, and wrist and ankle straps of a similar construction. As my faculties returned, the presence of these additional items of attire began to cause me concern. I could not remove them with my hands, and I could not understand why I had been so fitted.
Carol entered the bathroom and began to yell at me.
"Why did you take your diaper off, do you know the mess that you have caused me from your stupid actions?" She was furious.
"Don't even try to explain, in fact, don't say anything! I'm so pissed off right now. That room will take hours to clean up, not including the mess that's on you!"
Carol reached over and turned the tub spout on, flipping the lever to block the drain. The tub rapidly began to fill with cold water. Perhaps, thought by Carol to be punishment, the cold water was soothing to my pepper burned raw skin.
My senses were returning to me. I had noticed that the burning was largely gone, except for the inflamed skin from the groin shaving and the rawness after effects of the pepper juice on the tenderized skin. I realized that the formula in the bottle must have also contained a laxative, and the sedative action was sufficient for me to relax my bowels without waking up. I was highly embarrassed about the problem that I caused, but still wondering what the purpose of the cuffs and collar were, and, in the tub, I finally had an opportunity to examine the plastic penis retainer in the light of the bathroom. It was quite well made, and clearly not something that a mere safety pin would have opened. From my visual perspective I could not see how the device was locked in place, but it was the least of my current problems.
The tub water was brown with floating crap and the smell was unpleasant. I had a desire to open the drain but thought more of the effort, worrying that Carol would react with a new and painful response. At least I could now pee into the tub water unnoticed.
Carol entered the bathroom room in what looked like a plastic jump suit; like the ones used by a chemical spill clean-up crew; complete with latex exam gloves.
"It's a damn good thing my son is at my mother's house for a few days, I don't know how I'd have been able to tackle this crap and deal with both of you at the same time!" She scowled. Carol reached over and released the tub drain. She then removed the shower head wand and proceeded to rinse me and the tub down with cold water until the visible debris was off my body. Then she lathered up a wash cloth and scrubbed down my body, shampooed my hair and rinsed the plastic retainer.
"Stand up and don't move," she ordered as she left the room, returning with the brass colored tool to remove the retainer.
"Eyes closed and hands on your ears," was her command upon returning. I complied without question.
She held the retainer device with one hand and in seconds removed it from my penis and scrotum. Then, she scrubbed my red, raw, bald genitals to remove any traces of my poop.
"Here, towel yourself off," she commanded as she tossed a large bath towel to me.
"And, try not to screw that up, OK?" She commented with a sarcastic scowl. The removal of the device was liberating. Gone was the intense burning of the pepper juice, but the rawness of my entire groin area was uncomfortable. The cold water had caused my scrotum and penis to shrink to an embarrassingly small size.
It was about this time that I realized that I had not had any significant food in almost 24 hours. I also saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror and noticed my unshaven face was ready for a razor. My stomach was gurgling and announcing its need for food. Carol must have been reminded of this fact by the noise. She said, "Go to the kitchen table and sit down. I brought you a couple of hamburgers from the drive-through. There is a glass of water on the table to drink." Carol had given me the best news of the day. Although it did feel awkward sitting at her kitchen table butt naked and eating burgers, I was able to savor the taste of real food again. It was amazing that I could find satisfaction in such a small offering.
Within minutes, Carol entered the kitchen. She had removed the hazardous materials clothing, and it seemed that there was some relief in her animosity over the mess I had created during the night.
"Well," she said, "it's clear that you can't be trusted to do as you're told. So, I guess that I'll need to modify the training program a bit tonight."
"Have you finished eating?" She asked. Feeling like she was baiting me to speak, I simply nodded yes. Clearly, she could see that the burgers were eaten.
"I suppose you are wondering why you have a collar, and cuffs on your arms and legs?" I nodded yes. But, then I don't suppose that how I responded would have made any difference, anyway. It seemed clear that I would soon learn the purpose of my adornments.
"Those will stay in place until you can demonstrate that you can follow instructions," Carol said.
"If your diaper had been properly in place, the entire mess tonight would have been avoided. Do you understand the impact of not being a good little boy can have on others?" She asked. Again, I nodded yes, and did, indeed feel remorse that my actions had caused the resulting mess.
"And when your actions have an impact on others, they will also have an impact on you!" She emphasized.
"You can't sleep in your room tonight. The walls need to be cleaned more thoroughly and the mattress was soiled, even WITH the plastic cover. How did you manage that anyway?" She asked, not really wishing a reply.
"You'll have to sleep in the basement tonight, and it is early to bed for you, 'cause I need some down time after this bull s#@%." Since I had never been in her basement, I didn't know what to expect. The home was about fifty years old and unlikely to have a finished basement like those of current fashion.
"Get up and follow me." Carol ordered. The door to the basement was at the opposite end of the kitchen. The steps were steep but carpeted. Barely lit from the small glass block windows, it was evident that the basement was nicely finished in spite of the house's age. As basements go, it appeared to lack the general storage of boxes and odds and ends that my basement held. She flicked on a group of very bright ceiling mounted flood lights that projected directly onto large workbench of sorts near the center of the room. I could easily identify a wood-workers vise mounted in the center at one end of the varnished workbench. In the room I could also see a long floor-to-ceiling curtain fully across one end, and three nicely finished wood doors on the wall perpendicular to the curtain. The floor was thickly carpeted and I thought it odd that a woodworking workbench would be located on such an expensive floor. The bright lights above the work bench made it impossible to see the ceiling above the bench.
When we reached the workbench, Carol indicated to wait by raising her arm and showing an open palm like a school crossing guard, whereupon she placed a large, thick cloth cover over the bench top. I knew that this would certainly feel better than lying on the hard, varnished wooden top. Carol patted the surface indicating that I should hop up and lay down. Having been through this drill before, I expected a diaper to be applied. The short chain attached to the loop in my collar that Carol had used as a leash was hanging down my back. Carol pulled it away as I lay back and it rattled as it fell below the top of the bench. Carol said "hands on ears and eyes closed." Within seconds of raising my hands to my head, I could hear the clicking of something onto the wrist cuff's metal loop and again to my collar. When I opened my eyes in reaction, it was impossible to see anything with the bright overhead flood lights shining down. But, I quickly realized that that my wrists were now tethered to my collar, with only about three inches of movement possible; and the previously dangling leash attached to a hook somewhere below the bench-top that prevented me from lifting my head more than an inch. Not liking this fact, I decided it was time to leave the table top and attempted to swing my legs around to slide off. Neither leg would move more than about three inches. I had not heard her make the connection between my ankle collars and the foot of the bench, but I was now spread eagle and fastened to the bench top. Panic began to race through my mind.
To suggest that I was becoming paranoid from the events of the past 24 hours would be an understatement. Carol must have sensed my discomfort and immediately said that I could open my eyes (not that I could see anything anyway), and that this restraint was necessary because I could no longer be trusted and she didn't want to be kicked in the face as she worked. She continued with a comment that I had already demonstrated that I could not be trusted. She then attached a spreader bar to my legs at my knees to keep my legs apart. I could hear the whirr of an electric motor and could see a pair of small wire cables coming from the ceiling into the bright light. She held each leg and hooked one cable to each ankle cuff. I could again hear the whirr of the motor and, like an overhead crane, my legs rose up and then back, towards my head, causing my body to fold and lifting my buttocks from the bench top. Carol seemed to be controlling the mechanism from her position at the end of the work bench. The hoisting motor stopped when my feet were directly above my shoulder, fully exposing my groin and ass.
Carol next began to apply lotion to my raw bottom. It felt good to have something soothe the soreness, but even with her necessary manipulation of my organs, I was not about to get a hard on. Not after the last 12 hour ordeal. She finished with baby powder and brought up from the bottom of the bench a fresh cloth diaper and plastic pants. I did my best to see through the bright lights yet appear as though I was not looking; but Carol new otherwise. My agitation was settling down somewhat, considering the contraption into which I was tied to what appeared to simply be an arrangement for Carol to complete her diapering task. I thought that this was its simple purpose.
Then to my horror, Carol produced a medical injection syringe with a thin needle. I began to writhe around in fear.
"Don't worry, this is just a light pain killer that will help soothe your raw skin by blocking the nerves; the skin in your groin was very irritated and raw. This will feel sort of like Novocain at the dentist." I could feel the pin prick of the needle high in each thigh; then a slow warming of the skin around the injection site.
"Because you are a messy little boy that can't follow instructions and because I'm not interested in cleaning up another poopy mess, you are going to be provided with a little anal training tonight." She said as she produced an odd looking rubber device that had a mushroom style head with a pointed top and flat underside on a four to five inch long shaft. At the base was a large flexible disc and ring. She applied some lubricant to the tip and touched it to my anus.
"After I insert this past your sphincter, the special shape of the head will prevent your body from expelling the plug; isn't it great!" she gushed. I was not at all interested in this training and tightened my sphincter to prevent the foreign object's entry into my butt. Quickly, I realized that the blocking action of the Novocain, or whatever it was, was intended to prevent such resistance. I could not feel any pain, and I could immediately feel the plug being inserted into my anus, and the mass within my bowel. Carol must have tested it for easy release, for I could sense that she was tugging firmly on the ring at the base to ensure that it was fully inserted and secure. She followed by tying a small line through the loop and fastening it around both legs to my hips and tying it around my waist to further insure it remain in place. Then I sensed the flash of a camera and heard the shutter mechanism. Carol came around to the head of the bench and snapped another photograph looking down my torso and through my elevated legs.
"Just a couple of shots for my scrap book," she exclaimed.
Next, Carol fitted me with a very thick cloth diaper and snap on plastic pants. When she was finished, she lowered and disconnected the cables that were elevating my legs and removed the spreader bar unhooking my ankles. She released the neck restraint and I could finally lift my head. Carol instructed me to get off of the table and pulled my body to one side of the table where I could step down. When my weight came onto my legs, I collapsed to the floor. The injection prevented my knees from supporting my weight.
"Ohhhh, little boy can't walk? Ohhh, I guess you'll have to crawl like a baby to your bed." Carol smirked as she motioned for me to follow her to one of the nearby doors. The thick carpet prevented me from injuring myself in the fall, and the crawling was difficult with my arms able to move only inches away from my neck collar. Using a sort of elbow and knee drag, I slowly moved to her location by one of the doors. Fortunately I could move my upper legs, but there was no feeling whatsoever from my knees upon the carpet.
"In you go," she said as she opened one of the three doors I had noticed when entering the basement. The room was pretty much just a small walled space with nothing but a thickly carpeted floor. As I slowly crawled past her with my plastic pants and diaper being the highest part of my body because of the elbow waddle, she smacked my rear with a wooden paddle. Even with the padding, and the injection, it stung.
"No trouble from you now; and I mean NO TROUBLE. And, that plug better be in place tomorrow morning or else..." Carol threatened.
I moved into the center of the room and the door closed behind me. The only light came from a small glass block window high up the wall. As a result of the injections, I could not stand up at all, so I found a comfortable spot near a corner, discovered a folded blanked within reach, awkwardly covered my body and simply lay on the floor in my customary fetal position thinking about my predicament.
I was not sleepy, and not hungry. I could feel no pain and did not need to pee. A day and one half ago I was worrying about the financial performance of my department at work. Today, I was worrying about my diaper and what would be happening to me next if I soiled it! I had never imagined this side of Carol's personality, nor would I have guessed that she enjoyed an alternate lifestyle from her conservative accounting persona. But, this house, its features and equipment, and her apparent ease with unusual devices and injections, as well as her inventory of diapers and plastic pants made me wonder who Carol really was.
I decided to confront her when I next saw her. I was frustrated with this situation and entirely tired of the whole matter. I simply needed to return to my job and former life. Although I could not walk at the moment, (in fact I could not even stand up) and my arms were chained to my neck, I was building the confidence to demand that this most painful series of events end immediately. I needed to return to my life and my job, and Carol would simply need to comply with my wishes. If she did not, I would risk all and contact the police.
I thought some more. What about the pictures? What would become of my reputation or my job if the pictures were released? Moreover, how would I explain to the police that I was being held by an evil 'mommy?' That I was being kept in diapers and plastic pants, fed from a giant baby bottle and forced to wear a butt plug. That would make an interesting police report, for sure. And the temporary paralysis, how could I explain that? I worked every possible scenario out in my mind. What I would say, what I would do, how I would escape.
Every scenario seemed to end in the ruination of my career. Finally, I reasoned that I was strong and could tolerate much. I decided that Carol would soon grow tired of this process, and I would be allowed to return to my former, albeit traumatized, life.
I do not know how long I mused about my dilemma, but I fell asleep at some time well past dark. I was awakened when I heard the door open, but it was not morning. I did not lead on that I was awake. Cracking my eye ever so slightly, I could see Carol, in her night gown. She did not turn the light on in my room, and she was backlit from the bright basement light above the bench. She entered quietly, and it appeared that she was trying to not to wake me. I simply pretended to remain asleep. She bent down and gently slid her hand into my diaper, apparently to check for wetness. Then she left. I had no idea if I was dry or wet, for the numbing action of the chemical continued to affect my legs and groin area. I simply drifted back to sleep.
I was awakened by the morning light streaming into the room from the translucent window. I attempted to stand, and found that the numbness continued and my legs still failed to support my weight. My hands were useless in their chained position, and I could not determine if I was wet or not. I could still feel the mass of the plug in my anus, and I wondered when Carol would arrive to open the door.
Waiting was a hard thing to do.
After what felt like hours, I could hear her flip the basement light switch; and then turning the knob and opening the door to my room. Without any hesitation, I looked up into her eyes and stated clearly that we needed to talk; that I needed to get back to work and that I was frustrated with her game.
"Oh you do, do you? I don't see that you are in any position to demand anything!" Carol quizzically replied, as she turned, left the room, and shut the door behind her.
To be continued.
I was fully awake. My legs were still feeling the effects of the injections and I could not put my full weight upon them. I did notice that some feeling was returning to the surface of my lower legs as I moved, crawling across the carpet. I was increasingly concerned about the day and how it would progress. Carol's parting comments were replaying in my mind; what did she mean? Was she going to unleash another round of unpleasantness against me, or was she going to release me from this nightmare?
Ah, the stairs, the light switch, and then her hand twisting the door knob to my room. Carol was returning. The door opened. She stood there and barked an order at me with an emphasis that caused my bones to chill; "Get out here and come to the table!"
I could not stand, but with the returning feeling in my lower extremity, I was able to more quickly crawl to the table, where Carol grabbed my shoulders and literally thrust me up on the work bench. I sat on the edge, my mostly useless legs hanging over the side.
The thick cloth cover was not present on the table, and the fading anesthetic allowed me to fully appreciate the anal plug that she had installed the night before. I would not describe the sensation as painful, but unpleasant and uncomfortable would suffice. Never having had anything shoved into my ass before, this was a sensation to which I had no comparison.
Carol took a hand held mirror and positioned it so I could see my face. To describe my face as having a five - o-clock shadow would be an understatement. Coupled with my very messy hair, and newly acquired dark circles under my eyes, and the lack of adequate fluid intake had caused my skin to show early signs of dehydration. I looked appalling; even to me. Adding to my face, the vision of my arms tethered to my new black rubber necklace made my appearance surreal.
"Do you really think that you are in any condition to go to work?" Carol demanded. Not fearing her punishment, I replied, "Yes! Let's get this nonsense over with now! I need to get back to my job and my life." Half expecting to be smacked, I was surprised that she replied, "OK, I'll help you get dressed." At which point Carol pushed my shoulders back to cause me to fall backward on the bench. My tethered arms could not break my fall backwards.
"Let me get you out of this wet diaper and get you ready for your work world." Carol said. Whereupon, she went to work removing the snaps on my plastic pants and removing the soaked cotton diaper from my bottom. She produced a baby wipe and thoroughly cleansed my groin. The sensitivity and pain from the pepper solution and hair removal was pretty much gone. The damp cleaning cloth was cold. Even though she thoroughly handled and stroked my penis, no hard-on developed. Lesson learned.
Expecting to have my arms released, I was surprised to be ordered to lift my butt; whereupon Carol slid a new disposable diaper under my butt and proceeded to apply it with skill and speed.
"Can't risk an accident at work, can we?" She inquired as the job was finished with a pull on pair of plastic pants.
"These will reduce the noise of the disposable diaper and give you a bit of additional protection against a leak. We'll deal with that plug later." She said.
Then, she produced my slacks and shirt, helping me get my legs into my slacks while I was still prone on the bench. Without fastening them, she walked around to the head end of the bench and unlocked my wrists from the necklace/collar. She proceeded to remove both wrist cuffs and the collar, commenting that they might be a bit difficult to explain at work. I sat upright, and she helped me get my shirt on.
Carol motioned for me to stand up. I did not believe that my legs would support my weight, but swung my body around to test my strength. Carol had not removed the ankle cuffs, however my slacks covered them. This detail led me to believe that she was not done with me yet. Carol came up and wedged my knees with her legs to prevent them from buckling. She grabbed a pair of crutches that she had positioned by the table earlier, and held them for me to use.
"You will get stronger as the day goes on; you DO know how to use these?" She asked rhetorically.
She helped me adjust my trousers and shirt tail, tucking them into my slacks and helping zip my fly and fasten my belt.
"Your shoes are upstairs." Carol said.
"Come up to the kitchen."
Using the crutches, I hobbled to the stairway, but decided it was safer to crawl up the stairs, butt first, backwards, sitting from one to the next. Carol had not removed the anal plug or the binding that held it in place, and my motion to the stairs was making the plug move inside my anus, presenting me with an arousal that I had little experience with, and definitely one that I did not wish to have at this particular moment.
Upon my arrival at the top of the stairs I saw that Carol had cold cereal and toast waiting for me at the kitchen table. I managed to get to the chair and sat, putting the crutches on the floor at my side. The anal plug was getting my full weight and I was getting very aroused. As long as I remained motionless on the chair, I was OK. Carol left the room while I ate.
I cannot recall the brand of cereal, for my mind was entirely fixed on not having an orgasm and risking some diabolical round of punishment from Carol. At the completion of my eating, Carol returned to the room with my socks and shoes. Until this time I remained quiet. But it was time to speak.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. Carol replied "Don't give me any crap. You love this and it's exactly what you want. I'm not doing anything to you that you won't come back for."
"What do you mean by that?" I inquired?
"You'll be back tonight, not because I require it, but because you need it. You aren't the tough guy... tough boss that you think. You're the little boy that came here the night before last. You've just been a little boy hiding in a grown man's body." She said.
"You'll come back tonight again because you need your diaper changed and you need a mommy to look after you and properly train you." Her tone was somewhere between therapist, mother and dominatrix. But, I knew in my soul that she was, in a strange way, more correct than wrong.
Carol said, "I'll drive you, since you couldn't possibly drive yourself with your weak legs. And, by the way, one of my good friends is a doctor. As a favor, she provided me with this doctor's note to give your boss, if you want to. It'll buy you a couple of weeks of sick time if you want to use it, your decision. Maybe you'll get a chance to meet her soon."
I used the crutches, somewhat less awkwardly than at first, to get to the door and down the several porch steps. Carol had my car waiting and the passenger door open for me. I managed to get in, putting the crutches in the back seat; fastening my seatbelt as Carol entered the driver's seat and began to drive away. She looked at me and said, "Don't forget that I still have the email with attachments. Don't do anything stupid."
I looked straight ahead and said nothing. She took her right hand made a fist and struck down into my groin almost as fast as I could comprehend what was happening. The diaper softened the blow, but my reaction to the blow made the anal plug drive deep into my anus.
"I want your attention when I'm speaking to you, little boy!" She admonished. Instead of pain, I was experiencing a hard-on, and had been since climbing up the basement stairs. The diaper made it impossible for Carol to notice, but she may have felt it when she hit my groin. I quickly turned to look at her so as to avoid another blow. I didn't want another experience with the clamping device.
As we drove, the motion of the car seat against the plug became unbearable and I instinctively pressed both hands hard against my penis as I experienced an incredible orgasm. Carol must have enjoyed my exploding pleasure and surmised that the anal plug was partly responsible. She remarked, "If you enjoyed that as much as it looked, I can help you experience new pleasures like you've never thought to exist. Just be a good little boy and behave for your mommy."
As we pulled up to our office building, my composure returned, and I managed to get out of the car, although with some difficulty. Carol remained seated. Before I closed the door, she said.
"Call me on my cell phone anytime when you need a ride." I acknowledged and hobbled to the building entrance on weak legs and crutches.
I managed to get into the elevator and to our floor with no particular difficulty. I was self conscious about the diaper, but no one in the lobby or elevator seemed to notice. The activity seemed to make my legs stronger. Once again, the motion caused the anal plug to cause me to be aroused, and I could only hope that the diaper properly hid my erect penis from glancing eyes. As I opened the door to our small office suite, Lorna gasped, "What happened to you?" She inquired with a high level of voice inflection, as I stepped near my office door.
"You look like shit!" She added.
I struggled for a moment with what to say in reply.
"I'm not well." I replied.
"Then why are you here?" Lorna asked with sarcasm.
"I sure as hell don't want what you got!!" Lorna added with emphasis. Perhaps the wisdom of her question was what I needed at that moment. Instead of going to my office, I approached her desk and handed her the doctor's note that Carol gave me.
"Could you give this to Ben and tell him that I'll call him in a couple of days. I'm in no shape to work today." I said as I awkwardly turned to leave the office, Lorna spouted, with a volume that others in the office were sure to hear, "Are you wearing a diaper?" I didn't bother to look back and just scowled, "Yes" I replied quietly as I passed back through the office suite entry door. I was too embarrassed to look at Lorna. Was the diaper that obvious?
After I pushed the button for the elevator, I checked my shirt and noticed that the plastic pants were exposed over the shirt tails. I quickly pulled the shirt tail out to cover the plastic pants. I wondered how many others had seen my strange underwear on my way up to the office. Carol must have done this intentionally, I calculated.
In the lobby, I took my cell phone to call for Carol. It was dead. Not having been charged in the past 24 hours was the problem. Now what was I to do? I continued out the front door, and was surprised and actually relieved to see Carol still in the drop off zone. She had not left. It was a brief moment of joy following a stressful few minutes.
Carol exited the driver's side and opened the passenger door for me. Whereupon I immediately burst into tears over the embarrassment I had just experienced. Perhaps, part of this was emotion pent up after the fear and uncertainty of the past two nights. Either way, I was bawling like a child. Carol was now my anchor, and her presence was soothing in this situation; and I was not embarrassed that she saw me in this agitated state.
As I sat crying, Carol immediately stroked my hair.
"It's OK, everything will be OK. Your mommy is here to help you and protect you." She said. I felt relieved to feel her touch. I took comfort from her words.
I regained some level of composure as we drove back to her house wherein I immediately slumped into the living room sofa upon entering the house. I was emotionally confused at this time. My legs had regained most of their function. The anal plug was beginning to annoy me, and I was hungry. Carol returned to the living room after a few minutes. She had been in the kitchen. Preparing food I thought. She returned with the big baby bottle with the large nipple.
"Here, lay your head in my lap and take this. It's just warm milk this time, no medications." She said. I did as she said, putting my head in her lap. While I sucked the bottle, she lightly massaged my head and slowly moved her fingers through my hair. It felt wonderful. It must have been early afternoon, but I was physically and emotionally exhausted. With the massage and warm milk, I beginning to get drowsy, Carol said, "little boy can't sleep quite yet. I need to check his diaper. Take your grown-up clothes off and I'll check your diaper." She spoke softly. She helped me undress to my diaper and plastic pants.
My diaper was dry, but she motioned me onto the kitchen table anyway. She pulled down the plastic pants and removed the tapes sealing the diaper. She began to untie the lashings that held the anal plug in place.
"Have you learned anything from this little experience?" She inquired, tapping the base of the plug to indicate that it was the subject of her question. Before I could speak she said "I expect you to never do your little mess in anything but your diaper again. I hope THAT is perfectly clear."
I nodded in agreement and she lifted my left leg. She grabbed the ring on the end of the plug and began to pull slowly while gently rotating the device. The plug was solidly lodged behind my sphincter, but her continuous pressure caused it to slowly, then quickly release and slip out of my butt hole. I felt a sharp pain as it breached my sphincter. She remarked that I had a nice tight ass. Whereupon she quickly produced fresh cotton diaper and had me back in thick dry cotton with plastic pants as quickly as ever. Sleepiness returned and she produced an adult size, kid's style solid blue colored sleeper, complete with sewn-in feet for me to put on.
Even if I objected, I didn't think that it would matter, so I helped getting into the sleeper. I must have looked foolish with my whiskers, thick butt from the diapers, and footed sleeper. Carol motioned for me to come downstairs again. This time she opened a different door, and I observed an adult size crib.
"It's nap time for little boy," She said as I entered the room behind her. I crawled onto the crib and I lay down for a badly needed sleep. Carol raised the front panel and left the room. I quickly feel into a deep sleep.
"Time for little boy to get up," Carol announced upon entering the room. I was startled awake and recall confusion about where I was. I slowly regained my faculties as she lowered the front of the crib.
"It's time for your dinner and a bath. Come upstairs" Carol said. I had eaten very little in the past 30 hours and my stomach was objecting to the emptiness. When I got to the kitchen, Carol had two places set and delicious looking food on the table. Unfortunately, this food was for Carol. When I seated myself, she brought a TV type dinner tray that contained several varieties of strained food. Carrots, Peas, some type of meat, and another unidentifiable novelty vegetable. There was quantity enough, just not the stuff I was interested in.
"You better eat this, breakfast is a long time away and you've missed several meals already." Carol said, in a motherly way.
I was hungry enough and ate readily, but this was a taste feast that I could have easily missed. Carol allowed me to feed myself, and I wasn't subjected to any additional embarrassments like bibs and the like. Perhaps, she was slowly releasing her grip on my life and allowing me to return to normal.
When dinner was over she announced that we would be going out for a while; that she wanted me to meet someone. (I distinctly recall she previously mentioned a bath.) Carol must have sensed my uneasiness in this announcement, as she commented that I could wear my "street clothes." I took this to mean that I would not be in diaper, but she quickly followed that my slacks would nicely hide the diaper and plastic pants. This time I would do the final checking and shirt tucking, I thought to myself!
Carol got up from the table and moved her dishes to the sink. I quietly followed suite, still not talking or offering comments. I had not wet my diapers but felt the need to pee, now that I had eaten. Carol came up beside me as I placed my dishes in the sink. Without comment, she opened the zipper in the back of my sleeper and pushed her hand into my diaper. Finding it dry, she said, "You know, it will be much more pleasant and less likely to cause a problem if you don't hold your pee so long. You really need to recognize that the diaper is on you for a reason."
Almost like seeking her approval, I immediately released my bladder, feeling the warm liquid surround my bottom. Carol left the room, asking me to put the dishes into the dishwasher while she got ready to leave. When I finished, I was told to sit quietly at the table.
My task completed, I sat quietly. Carol returned about 20 minutes later. She had changed into a stylish dress, low cut at both the front and the back. This was attire that I had never seen her wear, and it made her elegant and beautifully proportioned body look great. I had thoughts about my image of her naked, just a few hours before.
I was confused. I distinctly recall Carol indicating that I was to have a bath after dinner. Why were we leaving? Carol brought my work cloths to me and helped me get out of the sleeper. She checked my diaper again and smiled when it showed wetness.
"Looks like my little boy was busy while I got ready," she said.
Expecting to be led to the basement table for a change, I was surprised to be told to get into my clothes. I was not entirely uncomfortable, but knew that I could not add much more to the soaked diapers. When I had dressed, carol helped me put my shoes on. I appreciated this, as the bending would have likely squeezed urine from my diaper onto my slacks. When she finished, she asked me to hold my arms out. I watched as she re-applied my arm cuffs. She did not indicate why I was being so equipped, and I did not ask. My concern and worry that had briefly faded, now returned.
Carol drove my car again, with me as passenger. We drove to a neighborhood in an adjoining community that was well known for its affluent homeowners. She turned into a beautiful gated entry to a large home. The home was built of stone and brick, with a finely manicured lawn and beautiful landscaping. This was the home of someone with real financial success.
Parking the car in the rear of the home, Carol motioned for me to follow. As we approached the house, an attractive woman greeted us at the door. She appeared to know Carol well, and they greeted with a hug and cheek kiss. The woman turned to me and said, "So, this must be the little boy that I have heard so much about. He looks a mess! Come inside and we can get started." Carol motioned for me to enter in front of her.
The home was no less impressive on the inside. Very fine cherry wood trim, polished marble floors, an ornate curved wood stairway, and a beautiful kitchen, with massive appliances. As we passed into a hallway, the woman opened a door to the basement.
"Down here." She said to me.
The finishes in the basement were not unlike the upstairs, finely crafted and appointed. Coming to the bottom of the stairs, I could see a beautiful tile bath. Large enough for two or three people, with broad tiled sides, open all around in the center of the room. At one end of the bath was a chrome pipe rising to a shower head and a long flexible hose, with mixing valves below. There were no curtains or walls. It did seem odd that this would be used as a shower, in that there was the potential for much water to end up on the tiled floor.
The woman opened a door about twenty feet from the tub. She instructed me to go inside and wait. The room was very small. A changing room, I decided. It had a wall hook for clothing and a small bench built into one end of the space. It could not have been much more than five feet by five feet, with a single dim light fixture in the center of the finished ceiling. The walls were painted and clean.
I waited for about 45 minutes, mostly standing because of my very wet diaper. I could hear water being briefly drawn, and voices in the tub area. I tried to listen but the voices were muffled by the thick door and sounded like they were purposely kept soft. Then, there was a light knock on the door, and Carol said for me to come out. When she opened the door, I could see that the tub was brightly illuminated from above, with the balance of the room darkened. Carol immediately shined a very bright flashlight into my eyes, keeping it trained on them while taking my hand and leading me into the room and helping me step into the large tub.
I could not see anything because of the extremely bright flashlight, but could sense that there were others in the room. Carol continued to shine the light in my eyes and held onto one arm, helping me to enter the tub. Someone came up from behind and clipped a rope to each of my wrist cuffs, raising each above my head. I could then feel someone clip something to each of my ankle cuffs, and force my legs into a wide stance. Carol moved the flashlight away from my eyes, but within seconds another bright flood light replaced it, others shining from each side and behind. In every direction that I looked, I could not see into the darkened surrounding area.
Carol then said "I'd like to introduce this little boy to everyone, he is going to get cleaned up tonight." Then applause. Applause? Applause??? What was happening? Someone worked from behind me and began to unbutton my shirt, pulling it up on the supporting cables. Next, my slacks were dropped to the floor; removal impossible because of the cables on my ankles. I stood there in just my plastic pants and wet diaper. A loose black cloth bag was placed over my head. I began to breathe heavily, for this was not something that should lead anyone into their comfort zone. In my mind I could see images of an Iraq war captive just before his execution. Carol came up and whispered, "Don't get too worried, this is just to protect everyone's identity. You will be fine. Do as you're told."
Each leg was released to allow my slacks to be removed, with the spreader reattached thereafter. Several hands were holding my ankle as it was lifted to allow the pant leg to be removed. Then, the neck collar was re-applied, but nothing was connected to it for the moment. Carol indicated that anyone wishing to examine me could come up at this time.
I felt like an animal at auction. Indeed, people came up and ran their hands around my body. Some hands felt my covered face and upper torso, others felt my diapered butt and private parts; some my legs. No one spoke, except one female voice who whispered, "He's wet his diaper."
Carol made an announcement.
"Marilyn will be the washer today." And I could hear rustling in the group of people. Next, someone appeared to cut away my plastic pants and removed my wet diaper. Then I could hear the water come on and felt the gentle warm spray. I could feel the application of a wash cloth and smell the fragrance of soap. I was being publicly bathed! I had an image of Marilyn develop in my mind; a middle age woman who fawned over her own children and needed to continue the practice. In any event, she was gentle and soft in her touch. Plus, I really needed this bath anyway. She took a long time and was careful to not scrub too hard. She handled my balls with care. She said nothing. When I was fully rinsed the water was turned off.
Carol began to speak, "Thank you, Marilyn for doing such a fine job." There was brief applause.
"Now, Bill will perform the cleansing." I was confused. Again, brief rustling and motion in the area surrounding the tub. I could hear the water being turned on again, and something being filled. Then I felt the solid hand of a man taking my shoulder and flexing my upper body forward. My uplifted arms were straining against the cables that held me. Next, and to my horror, I could feel a hand separate my butt cheeks and slowly insert something into my anus. Probing slowly I surmised it was an enema nozzle. Almost immediately, I could feel the flow of liquid into my colon. I was unsure how long I would be subjected to the inflow, and began to feel the cramps from the pressure. There was a brief pause in the inflow, perhaps to check my condition. Bill took both hands and felt my distended belly, pushing slightly at several locations. The cramping was becoming more painful. Then the flow returned, and the cramping was ever more painful. I began to lean further forward to relieve the pressure in my abdomen, but the lines tied to my wrists prevented it.
"We have finished!" I heard Bill announce, "A pint shy of one gallon." Then there was applause. The nozzle was still inserted in my butt and the pressure was intense. Bill removed the tube and I immediately leaked fluid and solids into the tub. The smell was unpleasant. Carol instructed me to release the enema. The water was turned on and I could feel the spray on my buttocks and rinsing the excrement into the drain. Each time I released liquid, I felt relief.
When I had purged all that I could, I was to again able to feel the nozzle. We were to do this all again. Three times in total; in rapid succession; each time the volume of fluid taken was announced, with the final amount exceeding one gallon. By the final treatment, I could sense that the water was clean leaving my ass. Someone used soap and cleaned by butt and legs and rinsed me down again.
Carol remarked again, "Nice job Bill." And the audience clapped their hands.
"Now, we need to get all that ugly hair off my little boy, any volunteers?" Carol asked.
"OK Alice has volunteered, but today we are only doing his torso and arms." Carol further instructed.
Almost immediately, I could feel the application of shaving cream, then, the scraping of at least four razor blades. Fortunately, I did not have a heavy amount of body hair. Perhaps it was my northern European heritage. I didn't dare move, with any razor being a potential for injury.
I believe that I was standing in the tub for as much as ninety minutes before I was finally rinsed and towel dried. When all was done, the group applauded again and people could be heard to thanks Carol for the opportunity. When people had left, the spot lights were turned off and the cloth covering my face was removed. I had found breathing easy, but was sweating profusely. Carol took the wash cloth and brought it to my face to wipe my head.
She released me from the cables and ankle restraint and asked me to follow her. We entered another small room within the basement that contained, what looked like a physician' exam table. In fact, it looked pretty much like the exam room that my personal physician used for my bi-annual physical examinations.
"Sit up there." Carol indicated. And, I sat on the edge of the exam table.
The middle aged woman that greeted me at the door entered the room, wearing a doctor's lab coat.
"Hello little boy, I'm Doctor Quince, and I'm just going to give you a short physical exam." She said. At which point she motioned me to raise my head. She used the illuminated magnifying device to examine my ears, nose, mouth, eyes and she looked thoroughly across my entire. I felt a cramp and she seemed to notice. The bathroom is there if you need to use it. I looked at Carol to seek permission, as I had not used a toilet since leaving my home on Monday morning. Carol nodded that it was OK, and I went to the toilet and sat, purging more of the liquid from my cleansing enemas.
When I returned, the doctor had put on a pair of surgical gloves and had a tube of Vaseline nearby.
"Bend over and spread your legs. I want to check your prostate." She said. I complied. I had only had this done once before, and didn't recall it as being painful. It wasn't; embarrassing yes; painful, no. I was told to sit on the exam table again. Then the doctor listened to my heart and listened to my breathing with her stethoscope. Next the doctor produced a blood pressure cuff and applied it to my left arm, listening as the pumped pressure was released. Finally the doctor instructed me to lie down on my back. She pushed my legs apart and slowly and meticulously and carefully examined my penis and balls.
"Everything looks OK, just a little diaper rash where the pubic hair was shaved. Carol, come by my laser clinic in a month and we'll get those nasty pubic hairs off for good!" She said as she pulled a large blister pack from a drawer beneath the table. I was still lying on my back but could see most of what was going on as she ripped the protective plastic cover off and handed the package to Carol.
"Hold this for a moment, I need to change my gloves, Dr. Quince said to Carol.
With fresh gloves from another blister pack, she took hold of my penis and began to fish a tube into my urethra explaining to me that she was inserting a catheter. Dr. Quince instructed Carol to get a basin ready to collect any fluid that comes from the end of the tube as she continued to slowly insert the device inside me. She said to me "this may feel a bit uncomfortable until it is inserted, then you'll barely sense its presence, it won't be painful. Carol tells me that you have not been urinating properly and this will empty your bladder." I was confused, I had been using the diaper; not that I had been given a choice. Why was I getting a catheter?
I could feel a brief moment of unusual pressure in my groin then I could hear urine spilling into the basin. Dr. Quince stopped pushing the tube and then withdrew a small plastic insert that seemed to be used to thread the catheter inside of me. She then turned to Carol, "Please hand me that small concave cap and the surgical adhesive" she said. Carol handed her a small transparent semi-spherical device with a hole in the center; the whole affair was about the size of my penis head, and the tube of glue. Dr. Quince threaded the concave cap over the tubing and slid it to the vicinity of my penis head. She applied an adhesive to the cap and pressed it onto the head of my dick, holding it in place for a few seconds. She turned to me and said, "This is an ambulatory catheter, it will continuously drain your bladder into your diaper. It cannot be removed, except with an emergency surgical procedure, for the duration of the adhesive's life, which is about 14 days. It is extremely flexible and I doubt that you will even feel its presence. I'll schedule you to be back here in two weeks to remove it. If you see blood in your urine after today, call me immediately." With that said she took a pair of scissors and snipped of the excess tubing flush with the end of the glued-in-place cap. I was now effectively incontinent and would remain so for the next two weeks. This, I thought was the final humiliation.
Dr. Quince removed a disposable diaper from a drawer in the exam table, proceeding to diaper me in good fashion; finishing with a fresh pair of blue plastic pants. Carol removed a new pair of shorts and a tee shirt from her bag, handing them to me as I sat up on the exam table.
The shorts were very short, indeed, and I could tell that the diaper and plastic pants would be easily visible to anyone looking. Carol handed me an electric razor and suggested that I shave before we left.
It was dark outside and I noticed that it was very late as we entered the car. I was tired and ready to sleep. I must have been quite a sight. Black rubber cuffs on my ankles and wrists, a thick black rubber collar, wearing a tee shirt, with shorts; in a diaper and plastic pants. Still, I said nothing.
Carol drove to her home and instructed me to sit on the sofa until she returned. When she did she produced a large cool bottle of juice. A bottle with a nipple? Again? Cherry flavored, one of my favorite flavors. As she handed it to me, she slid her hand into my diaper and remarked, "The catheter is working, and my little boy is wet. Drink this down and we'll get you changed for bed."
I sat quietly on the sofa, sucking the cherry drink from the oversized bottle with the large nipple. But, I was deep in thought about my displeasure with the humiliation that I was subjected to during the day. I was mortified at being the visual entertainment during a shower and enema. I could not understand why this could ever be considered entertaining. Then, Dr. Quincy and the catheter; what the hell was that all about? I had resolved to escape from Carol's grip at the earliest opportunity. I needed to find my car keys and my work clothing. Tomorrow I would leave.
Mustering up some degree of mental fortitude and strength, I blurted out; "Carol, tell me why you humiliated me today?" Carol turned her head and glared down her nose at me. Yes, I had violated the rule of not talking. I was bracing for something to happen. Instead, she said.
"You weren't humiliated today. These people were celebrating your recognition of your inner child. More than half of the people watching had been through the exact same ritual. All but two of them were in diapers while they watched. These people were just as you, either closet diaper lovers or adults who wanted to be treated like babies. To them this was your 'coming out' party! It was a celebration not a humiliation" For the moment, I was speechless.
"What about this catheter? Why am I wearing this catheter?" I asked. Carol carefully thought about her answer.
"That will be your introduction to true incontinence. You fashion yourself as a real diaper lover, this way you will have two weeks of living in diapers because you need them, not because you want them. In two weeks time, you will understand the challenges and frustration of the truly incontinent. And, you'll understand your inner self to a much greater level. My guess is that you're diaper use was just reconnecting with a part of your life that has been sleeping for years." She mused "If you weren't entirely satisfied with the things that have been happening to you, you could have walked away any number of times in the past three days."
"I think you aren't so offended by the circumstances into which you find yourself....I'm only facilitating your attempt to find the little boy in you that desperately wants to come back to life. I think that you've already resigned yourself to being a little boy with someone to look after you, someone to change your diaper and give you a bottle to suck on."
I was unsure how to respond. In my heart I knew that she was mostly right, but I wasn't going to give her the benefit of that knowledge. Nevertheless, I could not begin to envision the next humility that she undoubtedly had in store. I would leave tomorrow; tomorrow I would demand my car keys and my clothing!
Carol said, "If you are finished with your 52 questions, I need to get you changed so I can go to bed. Go downstairs, get up on the bench and wait for me." She ordered. I arose from the couch and walked to the basement stairs just in front of her. I quickly tucked my right hand inside my plastic pants. My diaper was soaked, realizing that I had no discomfort from a full bladder, and no realization of urine flowing, and the leakage was slow enough that the warmth of my earlier experiences was not sensed.
Carol immediately removed the disposable diaper and replaced it with a very thick cotton one, then a disposable diaper followed by large plastic pants. She said that this changing would need to last me all night. When she was finished, she motioned me into the room with the crib. After I lay down, she pulled up the side and locked it.
"I don't need you up in the middle of the night." Were her final words as she extinguished the light and returned upstairs.
After she had left, I stuck my hand into my diaper to determine if the catheter was, indeed glued to my penis. It was, nothing could cause it to budge, and pulling on the edge of the cap caused pain. Two weeks didn't seem like so long after all. I fell asleep.
Morning came and I was awake long before Carol. I tried to dislodge the front of the crib, but could not see how it was latched. Soon, Carol came down and released me, motioning me to get up on the table. At that time I realized that I was entirely soaked from my continuously leaking urine. My diaper was very heavy and drooped. But, nothing leaked outside the plastic pants.
Carol removed the wet diaper and I cooperated as she cleaned my bottom with the wipes, applied cream and powder. She put a new thick cloth diaper on me and followed that with another large disposable diaper and plastic pants. She said, "You'll need something to last most of the day. Your razor is in the upstairs bathroom. Go there and shave. You're going to work today."
I was dumbfounded. My escape plan just became moot.
"Your keys are in your jacket pocket. A diaper bag with supplies is by the door. Here are your work clothes. Call me on my home phone when you get to work." She said.
I waited for the joke to play out, but she was serious. I slid off the bench and quickly dressed, before she had time to change her mind. I went upstairs to shave, but Carol did not follow. Instead, I grabbed my keys and the diaper bag and left the house. My immediate focus was on leaving and I wasted no time getting into my car and driving off. I could shave later.
My thoughts turned to work, but I was free from my plight. Then, when I thought my escape would bring relief, I remembered my incontinence, and that Lorna knew I was wearing a diaper during my previous office visit. How would I enter the office, what would I say; what would I do? And, I was hungry for food.
As I drove towards the office, I pulled into a McDonalds and ordered breakfast and coffee from the drive through. I savored the smell and thoroughly enjoyed the food. It was about this time that I remembered that I was to spend the day in wet diapers. Plus I needed to figure out how to change them at some point. I stuffed the diaper bag into a gym bag that I always carried for trips to the gym. It was clearly not my attaché case, but it would do, and who would question my carrying a gym bag.
When I arrived at the office, I followed my former routine. Fortunately, I had arrived early, so I didn't need to confront Lorna or others. I simply went to my office and sat in my overstuffed leather desk chair. Sitting, I could just barely feel the urine slowly leaking into my diaper. It was very distracting and I just hoped that this was going to be an uneventful day, as my ability to focus on any issue would be suspect. Although I had not shaved my face, the growth was long enough to look stylish. Perhaps, no one would comment.
Lorna entered the office and peeked around the corner saying "Hi! I didn't think we would see you for a few weeks. You sure look better now than your last visit. Will you be here all day?" She inquired nonchalantly. Unsure of how to respond, I just nodded in the affirmative. Then she walked closer and bent over to whisper into my ear, "I can even help you change your diaper when you need it."
I was flabbergasted! I didn't know how or if I should respond. In a split second, she reached down and patted my crotch. The diaper could clearly be felt by her. She removed her arm and winked as she turned and left my office. Indeed, this would prove to be a very interesting day at the office.
My email box and office in-basket were full. I started working, losing track of the time. About two hours into my effort, Lorna poked her head around the corner and said that Carol had called. Lorna said that Carol had explained everything and that I shouldn't worry. She said, "Your secret is safe with me. Carol said I should help you out with a diaper change. You must be pretty wet by now. Bring your diaper bag; I have a key to the vacant office down the hall. Come on. Now!"
Almost instinctively, I rose from my chair, grabbed my gym bag and followed Lorna to the vacant office. She closed the door behind us and motioned for me to get up on the desk. I was very hesitant but she reassured me again that my secret was safe with her. Lorna opened the gym bag and removed a disposable diaper and plastic trash bag. She found the wipes and a small paper towel.
"Come on, we don't have all day. Get those pants down." She ordered.
I undid my belt and unfastened the top button. Lorna then unzipped them and had them at my ankles in an instant. Then, she pulled down the plastic pants and removed the plastic tapes that held the very wet diapers in place.
"My, my, my; this little boy is very wet!" She exclaimed.
"How long did the Dr. say you will need the catheter?" She asked. I shrugged like I didn't know.
"A couple of weeks, I guess." I said, wondering just exactly what Carol had explained about my situation.
I could not look at her during this embarrassing moment. She quickly wiped me down my private parts and dried me off, putting just a new disposable diaper on, then telling me to pull up my plastic pants and trousers. She put the soiled diaper in the plastic bag and put everything back into my gym bag.
"Better get back to work or people will be wondering what we are doing in here." Lorna said. I straightened my clothing and we both left the office.
I didn't know what to think. Why did I think I could come back to work with the stupid catheter inserted. Was I nuts? What did Carol tell Lorna anyway? I stepped up to my office door and asked Lorna to come into my office. As she did, I closed the door.
"What did Carol tell you?" I inquired.
"She said you were suffering from a medical problem with your bladder and that you would need to be using a diaper for a while. She also said that you were embarrassed by it and that pretending that you were a little boy made the whole thing easier for you and just a little bit more acceptable. I was only trying to help you. I won't interfere if you'd prefer. And, you know I won't speak about this to anyone." Lorna said with a very sincere and almost apologetic reaction.
I responded with an expression of my appreciation for her help and agreed that it was best if she would keep the medical information and the day's events confidential. I told her that the past several days had been very traumatic to me and that I was embarrassed that she saw me in this fragile way. Lorna reflected that she had seen lots of men's genitals over the years, although none quite this cleanly shaven...a look she kind of liked, and that she was truly concerned about my health.
I assured Lorna that I was doing better and that I appreciated her help with my diapers. I indicated that I had not yet gotten the knack of putting them on by myself, and would again appreciate her help at the office until I did. The truth was that I had never put them on by myself, but it appeared that I would be learning soon.
I finished the day working on my backlog. For long periods I forgot I was wearing diapers and wetting them without recognizing it. By the end of the work day, I checked and discovered that they were very wet and quietly enlisted Lorna to help me change, once again. I didn't think I could get to my apartment without a diaper change.
Leaving work was a relief. Then it struck me that I had no diaper inventory beyond the lone remaining diaper in the gym bag; so it was off to the pharmacy for a package of diapers and the learning experience of buying my first adult disposable diapers. Next it was to the drive-thru for a fast meal and home. When I arrived at my apartment, it was like a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I stopped thinking about my catheter, and only briefly reflected on the events of Monday morning; the embarrassing encounter with the 'coming out club'; and the frustration of the temporary medical 'implant.' At least I was free of the uncertainty of what might happen next. At home, I was in control.
After arriving at my flat, I quickly ate and then undressed for a needed shower and shave. I was just learning what incontinence really meant after I showered and found urine leaking from my catheter into my towel. I grabbed the lone diaper from the gym bag and lay on the floor to apply it. I was successful, but the fit did not come up to the quality that I had been accustomed to by others. I had lots to learn. I shook the container of baby powder into my diaper and considered the job done. Now, I could shave.
Underwear was superfluous, so I simply grabbed my pj's and pulled them up over the disposable diaper. This was the first time that I did not wear the plastic pants, and I found it more comfortable without them. A couple of hours later, I was ready for bed, and I changed into a dry diaper for the night. Second thoughts about the potential for a wet bed caused me to put the plastic pants on for extra leak protection. I tuned the radio to a nice station with calm music and set the sleep timer to shut off in 30 minutes. I think I was asleep in seconds.
The morning came all too soon, with my alarm slowly increasing in volume until I responded with a quick thud to the snooze button. As my consciousness returned, I realized that my diaper was very wet and most uncomfortable. Arising from my first good night of sleep, I quickly entered the shower, dropping the diaper and plastic pants to the floor. The flush of warm water on my body felt good. My mind raced ahead to the day in store and the management of my incontinence.
Quickly shaving, I found that the catheter continued to discharge urine, and I wrapped my penis with a large winding of toilet paper until I could get fully dried, powdered and diapered for work. I was now thinking ahead and proud of my partial return to my former self. The images of two days ago were still fresh in my mind, however. And, I could not wait for the catheter to be removed, even though there was no physical discomfort, this 24/7 diaper thing was proving to be a giant pain in the ass.
I would try to bring some normalcy to this day, aside from my continuously draining bladder and my perpetually wet diaper. I had completed my morning diapering, simply lying on the kitchen tile floor to help out with the positioning of the diaper. When I stood, it felt comfortable, better than my first attempt standing in front of the mirror. Pulling up the plastic pants, I finished with a pair of loose fitting slacks and a dress shirt and sweater. This would help hide the bulk of the diaper, and I had a couple of business meetings to attend. I was still a novice at the diaper application, but felt that I could handle it for the next ten days or so until the catheter came out.
My trip to the office excluded the normal stop for coffee. I wanted to minimize my fluid intake to keep the diaper problem limited to one change during the work day. The plastic pants did not make any appreciable noise when walking, and I guessed that if Lorna did not tell others of my situation, my condition would not be discovered. As usual I arrived at the office early and went straight to work. When Lorna arrived she came into my office, closed the door and sat down.
"You look rested today, much better than yesterday." She said. I greeted her, agreed and acknowledged her help and concern. As she stood and turned to leave my office, she said softly, "I'll see you at about 11:30 for our little boy's diaper change." I wanted to stop her and indicate that I could handle it now, but in the time it took me to collect my thoughts, she had begun a conversation with another office worker standing beyond my door. Since she had already seen my 'privates' yesterday, I figured that I could handle the embarrassment for another day, and didn't want to risk making her mad thus possibly giving her cause to tell others of my circumstances.
The morning progressed quickly, and before I realized it, Lorna was at the door swinging the empty office key around her index finger. She had a slight grin on her face and winked, saying nothing. I didn't know what to make of this, but followed with my gym bag in hand to meet her. It was pretty clear that she thought this was fun.
After entering the vacant office where Lorna had gone and locking the door behind me, I dropped my pants and hopped up on the desk as Lorna retrieved the needed materials from my gym bag. I began to speak by thanking her again and indicating that she really didn't need to do this again. I said that I was becoming proficient at changing my own diaper, and my circumstances were sure to make it altogether unnecessary soon enough. Lorna dismissed my concern and smiled as she lifted my legs and wiping down my groin; assuring me that she really didn't mind. She said that she never had any little boys of her own, only two daughters.
Lorna was in her late 30's and very attractive. As with Carol, I was always careful to not give any suggestion of sexual impropriety or physical attraction, and never made off-color or sexually directed comments to her. My practice was that romance was not to be mixed with work. In the several seconds of quiet after I spoke, I imagined that Lorna and Carol were partners in this diabolical plan. No, it couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be, I thought.
Then, to my amazement, as she finished cleaning my penis, she bent over and kissed it. Wow! Now, I was really confused. She did nothing more, just one simple kiss, just to the side of the head, missing the catheter top. I was so surprised, that I didn't know what to do or say. Had our relationship just changed in a big way? Lorna pulled the new disposable diaper under my butt and finished the rest of the job without delay or further comment.
As I slid off the desk top and bent over to pull my pants up, Lorna turned to leave the room. She didn't look back but quietly said, "Nice dick, and I really love the hairless look, I hope we become better friends" as she left the room. What the hell did that mean? I thought. My understanding was that Lorna was quite happily married, had two adorable pre - teen daughters, and had never expressed or shown any interest in me before.
I was really troubled by this and decided to leave the office and walk into the plant for a few minutes to further collect my thoughts. As I passed Lorna's desk, I just smiled and said I would be in the plant for a bit, returning in about a half-hour. Lorna didn't look up and just said, "OK".
Returning to my office after the plant tour, I went back to work, hoping to put the recent event out of my mind. I wasn't working more than twenty minutes when the phone rang. Caller ID showed it to be Carol.
"Good afternoon, this is Michael in accounting." I answered, fully knowing who was calling.
"How's my little boy doing today?" Carol inquired.
"Fine," Was my curt reply.
Carol then inquired; "Did Lorna help you with your diaper?"
"Yes," Was my equally brief response.
"I'm glad she did, she seemed so concerned when I told her of your urinary tract 'cover' problem. She immediately offered to help you with your diaper change when I explained that you probably had never done it yourself before." Carol said.
"She was very helpful. Have you and Lorna done this sort of thing before?" I asked, searching for some insight into Lorna's earlier comment.
"No, why do you ask?" was Carol's reply.
"Oh, no reason, she just seemed so comfortable at doing it," I responded trying to sound like it wasn't important.
Carol then said, "I had another reason for calling. I need you to come to my house after work. I'll fill you in on the details when you arrive." I paused for a couple of seconds and responded that I was planning to do some grocery and diaper shopping after work and would really rather not. Carol responded with a stronger tone and a much firmer voice, one that I had heard too often in the several days past.
"I'm sorry, did that sound like it was an option for you?" She said with sarcasm.
"Be at my house at 6:30, and don't be late." Then she hung up.
So much for getting meaningful work completed for the balance of the day; I just did simple tasks because my mind was running wild with worries and theories about why Carol wanted to see me tonight. My thoughts went back to the painful enema, public humiliation, or worse; I knew Carol was capable of much more than I had experienced.
At 5:30 I promptly left the office. Lorna was leaving with me and shared the empty elevator with me to the underground parking deck. She asked how I was doing, and I replied simply; "so far so good," wishing for a fast elevator. Just as we were approaching the deck level, she reached over and pressed her hand tightly against my diapered crotch, rubbing it up and down several times before saying.
"Take care of my little man down there, tonight. I'll see you both tomorrow." I got an immediate erection, and with the catheter, that was an interesting feeling.
The elevator door opened and we both walked away in different directions. My mind was beginning to fantasize about hot sex with this very attractive married woman. But now, I needed to drive to Carol's house. I had just less than an hour, and the drive would take all of thirty-five minutes if there was no traffic. Not knowing why I was summoned, I decided to grab a bite to eat at the drive through. I didn't want to be thinking about food when I didn't need to.
Presenting myself at Carol's front door, I was greeted by her in her night gown. It was apparent that she was doing her hair and preparing for what looked to be an evening out. As I entered I could see an evening dress hanging on a door sill near the bathroom. Carol said "Hi" and I replied similarly.
"Do you need a change?" She asked me as she was about to enter the bathroom again. I replied with a simply "yes."
"Did you bring your diaper bag? She asked.
"Yes, it's in my car" was my reply.
"Well, go get it and get yourself changed, we need to leave soon. We are going to Dr. Quincy's house. She wants to check up on your catheter, and we have another coming out event tonight. This time you've been invited to watch." Carol said as she carefully applied her eyeliner.
I got my bag from my car and finished my assignment, using her living room floor to change. When I finished, Carol was fully dressed and looked stunningly beautiful in a low cut dark blue dress with spaghetti straps, and color coordinated suede high heel shoes. Although I was dressed nicely, I was clearly under-dressed in comparison. Carol said we would take my car, and instructed me to pick her up in the front.
When she climbed into the passenger seat, I told her I was unsure of the directions. She told me to drive to the intersection of Superior and Romsen Roads, and she would direct me from there. Twenty minutes later, we were entering the long driveway to the fine house. Other cars were parked along the drive and at the apron of the garage. This time we entered the house from the front door and I was greeted and hugged by an elegant Dr. Quincy, who welcomed me like an old friend.
Upon entering the foyer, I could see a group of, perhaps, fifteen other people, all adults, but ranging in age from the early twenties to the mid seventies. They all seemed to know each other, and as I entered the room, Carol announced our arrival and introduced me as "L.B". Carol then whispered into my ear "I'm known to the group as
Everyone has initials that represent either their name or nickname. Mine stands for Mommy Carol. It is up to you to tell them what L.B. stands for, or to say nothing; your choice. These are nice people so be respectful."
After some small talk with one of the guests, I made a visit to the food and beverage table for a quick snack and drink. Within minutes, everyone had introduced themselves to me and welcomed me to the group. All were dressed nicely, and probably three-quarters were sporting very puffy waist lines and clearly wearing diapers; the bulk visible through their attire. Dr. Quincy garnered everyone's attention and said that we should move to the shower room for the event. Carol (M.C.) took a black masquerade style mask from a table covered with assorted masks to wear. Following suite, I grabbed a Groucho Marx glasses/nose/moustache. Whereupon Carol just laughed.
"It fits your personality well, L.B." She said.
After we were seated, one of the group members stood and announced that a young adult that was 'coming out' as a diaper lover. We were told that 'she was single, a university graduate, and had been in therapy for several years in an attempt to disengage from her diaper loving behavior.
"When in a local café, she introduced herself to D.T., one of the members of this group whom she had seen there many times before. And after she noticed that D.T. was clearly wearing and adult diaper. The young lady asked what medical condition D.T. was suffering from, whereupon D.T. explained that there wasn't one; she just liked to wear them."
"Our evening's initiate was dumbfounded by that response and immediately sat down and explained to D.T. about her similar feelings and her months of therapy aimed at ending what she thought to be an embarrassing and freakish fetish. And, here she finds D.T. obviously wearing a diaper and not the least bit embarrassed about it. Concluding their discussion, D.T. invited her to tonight's ritual coming out, and here she is! Please welcome C.Z."
Everyone clapped as the young lady was let into the tiled tub. The ritual that followed was quite similar to the one that I had experienced only days before. C.Z. was beautiful in every respect, and although I was old enough to be her father, I found myself sexually aroused at her naked beauty. She had long chestnut colored hair, falling to her waist. Her breasts were firm and perfect in every respect, not too large, not too small, and aside from her beautiful hair, she was fully shaved, her bald pussy complementing her perfect frame. She seemed uncomfortable at first standing under the bright lights; particularly after the spreader bar was attached and her arms were trussed up by the cables. Yet, she seemed resigned to the events which were to unfold as her beautiful body was positioned for the cleansing. She did not wear a hood as I did, and I wondered why.
Finding the group's invitation to touch and rub her most incredible, I promptly joined in with many of the audience for this very personal opportunity. This event was more arousing than any topless bar that I had ever visited or X-rated movie that I had ever seen. It was both sexual and sensual at the same time. As I passed my hands over her breasts and hard nipples and then rubbed and lightly cupped her crotch, I could sense that the event was resulting in her juices beginning to flow. Following this process, and her immediate reaction, I was not sure that C.Z. found the enema sequence equally as pleasurable, but she endured nevertheless. And, following the moderator's comments about the symbolic flushing out of guilt and fear, and the cleansing of her soul to appreciate herself as whom she was; she was led away. All the while, my penis was as hard as a rock.
After C.Z. departed, the audience left the basement and re-grouped in the living room. Everyone was complementing Dr. Quincy on another great coming out event. Two attendees, a man and a woman, engaged me in conversation and welcomed me to my first event as a witness. Both had witnessed my event earlier in the week. Neither offered their name or their "handle", but it was clear that they were highly educated individuals, and regulars; both were wearing bulky diapers visible under their clothing.
The woman inquired if I was a diaper lover or an adult baby. She pointed to my obvious diapered bottom as she asked her question. I replied that I was a diaper lover in a special relationship with my diapers at the moment.
She then laughed and remarked that I must be enjoying the temporary handy-work of a Dr. Quincy catheter. Somewhat embarrassed, I simply nodded in the affirmative. This conversation caused me to be self conscious of my wet diaper. The woman seemed to sense my discomfort and grabbed my hand.
"Come with me, I'll help you change out of that wet diaper." She said.
"Oh no, no it isn't necessary." I replied. But she had me firmly in tow and took me into a large room just off the living room. The room contained three heavily built wooden changing tables that were clearly designed for adults, not infants. As we entered the room someone was being changed on the table opposite ours. She said, "Hop up;"
Which I did without delay.
She went to work as efficiently as Carol and had me changed in no time.
"There, that must feel better? Oh, I'm M.A., and if my memory serves me, you are L.B., right?" She asked. I couldn't judge her age but thought her to be about five years older than me. We returned to the group as two others were entering the changing room. A week ago, I would have never guessed that so many strangers would be handling my penis and touching my 'privates;' oddly, I really didn't seem to mind.
Carol found me immediately after I returned to the party. She acknowledged M.A. and asked me if I was having a good time. I replied that I was becoming more comfortable and wondered if the young lady, C.Z. would be joining us. Carol thought she would be and reminded me that unlike men, C.Z. would need to dry her hair and apply makeup, something that men seem to forget takes time.
Not long after, I sensed a bit of commotion in the group and looked over at C.Z. being accompanied into the room. She was dressed only in a diaper, and light pink plastic pants. Her hair was dry and brushed and she had applied facial cosmetics. Her firm breasts presented very hard and firm nipples, and she seemed to be a bit uncomfortable. Dr. Quincy took around the room introducing everyone with their code name. As she approached us, I whispered to Carol that we had dropped our masquerade and what about the anonymity that was practiced at my coming out. Carol responded that her attendance was optional and she must have chosen to come upstairs. In my case, I was unaware of the events to unfold, and it was standard practice for unknowns.
"You'll have to ask her directly if you want to learn more." Said Carol, just as C.Z. approached us.
"This is L.B., the gentleman that I told you about earlier." Dr. Quincy said as she and C.Z. approached Carol and me. C.Z. spoke first; "Very pleased to meet you, L.B. I'd really like to talk to you about your transition when you have time." I had to work hard not to look down at her beautiful breasts, then stuttered "sure, I'd like that very much" I said, immediately regretting my insipid reply and thinking I could have shown a bit more intelligence. C.Z. was quickly marshaled on to the next introduction.
Carol commented that I seemed to like what I had seen. I just smiled. Following the introductions, about half of the group prepared to leave. The remaining folks seemed to be very familiar with one another and the group gathered their chairs close to better interact. Within minutes, clothing began to be shed. Two of the women were wearing only diapers and bras and one then removed her bra. The men ended up in diapers only. Carol was returning from the kitchen after all the clothing had been taken off, and she immediately removed her dress. To my amazement, she too, was wearing an ultra thin disposable diaper, and proceeded to remove her bra for a much cleaner look. Rock hard again, this was unexpected behavior. I thought I might have an orgasm with the erotic feelings I was experiencing. I quickly shed my clothing so as to not be the subject of conversation or ridicule. C.Z. couldn't possibly be embarrassed now, I thought.
Then I heard my handle from a distance; Dr. Quincy was not in the room, but summoned me from her study. When I approached, she said she wanted to check on my catheter. I walked to the chair where she was sitting and she motioned for me to lower my diaper. She was wearing only a lab coat. She immediately began to inspect my penis.
"You've just had a change, but you are already quite wet again." She said.
"Everything else looks OK, the adhesive should release in about four or five more days. You can come back here to have it removed, or if you want to be a cowboy, pull it out yourself once the cap adhesive comes free. If there is any bleeding at all, I need to know about it immediately." Whereupon she got up from her chair and asked me to follow her to the changing room.
"Hop up and I'll change you" She commanded. And, just as I was spread to the world, C.Z. approached the table.
"Do you mind if I help?" She asked sheepishly.
"No" was my reply. As Dr. Quincy was wiping me and applying powder, I immediately developed an erection.
"Looks like Mr. Johnson is wide awake! I wonder if C.Z. has anything to do with that." She said as I flushed red with embarrassment.
C.Z. commented that she had never seen a man with a shaved groin before; adding that she thought that she liked the look of it. Dr. Quincy was having a bit of difficulty bringing the disposable diaper up around my stiff member just as C.Z. questioned her about the catheter that she noticed on the tip of my dick.
Dr. Quincy immediately left the room when the diaper was taped, but C.Z. remained behind.
"I hope that I didn't embarrass you, I didn't mean to," she said wistfully.
"It's O.K." I replied.
"I've been embarrassed so many times in the last four days that I've had to redefine my meaning of embarrassment! How about you? Walking around a bunch of strangers wearing only a diaper must be a bit uncomfortable for you; especially with a few guys like me ogling your beautiful breasts."
She replied that it was uncomfortable at first, but now she is getting used to it. Moreover, she was finding the group very supportive of her desire to wear a diaper and not to consider herself a mental case. Then she moved the conversation back to my circumstances, while I was swinging myself off the changing table.
"Do you live near here?" She asked,
"No, about 35 minutes away." I responded then asked "How about you?"
I live in a small flat uptown, by the college. Probably a good hour from here, but the lady I came with, D.T. I believe, had to leave early, and I need a ride home. I wondered if it was on your way. D.T. didn't think I would have any problem getting a ride from someone.
"I'd be happy to give you a lift. Carol, I mean M.C. rode with me, so I'll have to drop her off too, if you don't mind?" I replied. C.Z. nodded that it was O.K. We both reentered the living room and found that the remaining folks were putting their clothing back on and getting ready to leave. I went to M.C. and indicated that C.Z. needed a ride and would join us. M.C. looked puzzled at first, then smiled, winked and said "Sure."
I restored my clothing and waited for M.C. and C.Z. to meet me at the front door. When they arrived I saw C.Z., stunningly beautiful, in a short skirt and tight blouse, semi-transparent, no bra, which gave her still firm and slightly visible nipples emphasis. Carol was back in her evening dress. I felt like I had hit the lottery, with a beautiful and sexy woman on each arm as we left the house.
Carol's house was closest so I drove there first. Carol had volunteered to sit in the back seat, wisely anticipating that I would be dropping her off first. When we arrived at her house, she invited us in for a nightcap. Since I had a wet diaper by now and needed a change, I agreed. C.Z. seemed okay with the prospect of losing another few minutes before getting home.
As we entered the home, Carol poured us all a glass of wine. I asked Carol if she had a dry diaper so that I might change. She produced one and I left the two ladies to their conversation.
When I arrived back in the kitchen, C.Z. turned her head and was clearly looking at my waist and groin.
"If I didn't know that you were wearing a diaper, I could not have guessed. She said.
"Yeah, it's mostly impossible to tell with the disposables. But Carol has some thick cloth ones that make you look like you have a barrel around your waist." I replied.
C.Z. then turned to Carol and said that sounded hilarious and asked if she could show her, whereupon we were both directed to the basement changing table where the inventory was kept. C.Z. seemed interested in the fact that Carol had such an elaborate collection of equipment and products. Yet, she seemed too uncomfortable to inquire why.
C.Z. did ask one question, however; one that even I was unwilling to ask.
"What is the vise thingy used for?" she asked as she pointed to the wood working vise attached to the edge of the table.
"Oh, that." Carol laughingly replied.
"That's for my little boys who don't follow my instructions," as she backed the jaws apart to reveal two neatly carved cavities, side by side, about the size of two healthy male testicles, half in each wooden jaw of the vise.
"Here, I'll show you." Carol said as she instructed me to climb up on the table.
I didn't like the way that this was going. But, I climbed up and waited for the next instruction. Carol just went to work pulling my slacks off and removing my diaper. Then she raised and pulled my legs forward sliding my butt to the end of the table.
"Lie flat on the table and don't move." She instructed me. Then she guided my balls into the jaws of the vice while C.Z. held my legs on her shoulders. She began to twist the large steel handle of the vice and I could feel the pressure on my scrotum. Just as it was beginning to hurt, she stopped, tugging on my scrotum at the base of my dick to ensure that I was properly clamped. Then Carol retrieved two metal rods with large hooks on one end and a smaller hook on the other. Each rod was hooked over a section of pipe at the ceiling and each of my outstretched legs was placed into the large loop bent into the bottom. The purpose was to suspend my legs at the ankles.
"Now slowly let his legs down." Carol instructed C.Z., who complied carefully. As this was done, my body flexed slightly resulting in new pressure being placed on my tightly clamped scrotum. I was in a very uncomfortable position and had to tense many leg and stomach muscles to avoid further pain.
"OK, I said, funs over! Let me out of this." I asked with a frustrated tone of voice.
"Not yet," was Carol's reply.
"You have been a bad little boy tonight. I saw the way you stared at C.Z.'s breasts. That was inappropriate behavior. C.Z., what would you like to do to punish L.B.?" Carol asked with a devious tone in her voice. C.Z. remained silent.
"Let's go upstairs to discuss it. He won't be going anywhere." Carol said as she pulled a cotton sweat sock over my cathetered penis.
"And that should keep the floor dry while we are gone." She added.
How right she was; I wasn't going anywhere. I could reach the vise, but to do so, I would have to raise my torso from the bench top. Even a slight attempt at the necessary motion resulted in intolerable pain from the vise. Obviously, Carol knew that I was completely captive.
They went upstairs for what seemed like a quarter hour. I could hear the conversation, but could not understand what they were plotting. When they returned, I was informed that a decision on my punishment had been made and I would be released if I agreed.
I asked what I would be agreeing to, and was met with an additional twist of the vice handle and the insistence that I would learn the terms after I agreed. The newly tightened vise position was extremely painful and I agreed without delay. C.Z. immediately released the vise, lifted my now burgundy colored balls from the carved wood cavities, and helped remove my feet from the hooks. I stood there, naked from the waist down, still feeling the pressure of the last twist of the vise handle.
I was immediately told to get back up on the table, where the urine moistened sock was removed. C.Z. was directed by Carol to apply a new diaper, which she did, and I was again asked to get off the table and was led upstairs with Carol in front and C.Z. on my flank. When I arrived in the kitchen, I saw immediately what the plan was to be; before me was displayed a complete baby doll style outfit of pink frilly clothing. Size: Adult. Jesus, I thought. Will this crap never end?
"For the balance of the night, you will be Suzie, our cute little girl." Carol said with a laugh. Then without delay, I was helped into the revolting dress-up.
"You will be going home with your temporary mommy tonight; and I expect you to mind her without question. Now, off with you both." Carol said as we were almost pushed out of the door.
Thankfully it was dark outside, as I must have looked quite strange in the baby doll clothes; bonnet and frilly pants diaper cover. C.Z. already had my car keys and told me to get into the passenger seat. I complied and fastened my seat belt. C.Z. started the engine and drove away.
"You know, this isn't at all like what I had in mind for the evening." I said with a tone of frustration in my voice. C.Z. turned and looked at me squarely and said, "I think it is fun," turning her head forward to again watch the road. Meanwhile, I sat quietly as we drove uptown.
About ten minutes later, C.Z. pulled into an alley behind a nice neighborhood of brownstones. She pulled to a garage door, exited the car and entered a code on a touchpad. The garage door opened and she reentered the car, driving into the garage.
"We're home L.B. I mean Suzie. Welcome to my place." C.Z. said with renewed kindness in her tone. At least I didn't have to walk from the car to her home in a populated uptown area. Entering the house, it became apparent that life was good for C.Z. The furnishings were very high quality, and appeared to be quite new. Everything was in ship-shape order. No magazines or papers lying around. Everything was perfectly decorated; nothing at all like my place.
"Do you want something to drink?" She asked.
"A beer, if you have one." I replied.
"They're in the frig. Help yourself. I'll be right back." She said as she left the room.
Getting my beer I waited at the kitchen table, feeling ridiculous. C.Z. returned several minutes later. She was wearing her diaper, which still appeared dry, and a light cotton camisole. She explained that she felt much more comfortable now. I couldn't agree more.
Taking her queue, I reached up to remove my bonnet. Almost immediately she loudly objected and told me to leave the bonnet in place. She emphasized that my name tonight was Suzie and that I was to do what her mommy wanted. And, at this moment, her mommy wanted Suzie to remain dressed.
At about this time, I realized that I did not have my diaper bag; worse yet, any of my normal clothing. I had only what I was currently wearing, and it was obvious that I could not fit into anything that belonged to C.Z. I was mad at myself for not paying more attention to the details before leaving Carol's. Perhaps, this was part of the plan.
"My diaper needs changing." I said as I finished the beer.
"Do you have any disposable diapers?" I asked, betting the answer was no.
"Oops, sorry, Suzie, not in your size, but I do have some bath towels. I'm sure that we can improvise." She answered, seemingly concerned about the oversight. I thought to myself how this would so not work.
C.Z. left the kitchen and immediately returned with a selection of towels. Placing one on the wood floor of the kitchen, she said "lie down and I'll change you."
Fortunately my "outfit" included plastic pants. I can't imagine the problem that would have been created if I would be in a diaper only with no water barrier between me and anything I sat on. I dropped to the floor and C.Z. went to work. When she finished and I stood up, it was clear that a bath towel as a diaper was much bulkier than the made to order cloth diaper products. My posture and my gait was a distinctive waddle with the mass of terrycloth between my legs.
"Suzie! Can you help me change my diaper?" C.Z. asked.
"I think I might have soiled myself." She added.
Yuck, I thought; if this day could only be over. I followed C.Z. into her bathroom. A beautiful marble and porcelain palace compared to mine, whereupon she stepped into the marble lined shower and asked me to help take down her diaper. As I did, it was clear that she was correct in her assessment. Fortunately the mess was small and well contained, and I folded the diaper and placed it into the waste receptacle. C.Z. turned the hand shower on and gave me the washcloth and soap.
My dick went hard as a rock. Here she was, a slender beautiful woman, nearly half my age, that I only met this very day. C.Z.'s naked, shaved pussy at my eye level and her WANTING me to wash her. I remembered Carol's words from a few days ago, that I might find sexual stimulation in this new life. I was thinking how right she was! If only this damn catheter was gone. I wanted to have sex with this beautiful young body and could not.
On with the task! Perhaps, this was to be the most sensuous and stimulating experience I have ever had. Even though my current attire must have looked like a scene from a science fiction movie, I was immersed in my job. C.Z. was equally turned on. She would writhe at the movement of the washcloth and my hand anywhere near her groin, and moan occasionally when I touched her several erogenous zones.
When finished, I stood and reached in to turn off the water. As I completed the task she grabbed my wrist and pulled herself tightly against my baby doll clothed body and began to passionately kiss me. I picked her up and carried her to her bed and fell onto the covers with her still wet. I began to stroke her breasts and pussy and within seconds was down upon her with my tongue, kissing and licking her sex to a heated frenzy. She exploded into orgasm, pulling my head into her overheated pussy with her body trembling and her soft voice moaning for a solid two minutes, at least.
Regaining her composure, she said, "Suzy, I mean L.B; that was amazing. I've never had an orgasm like that ever before. I really wish that I was able to take you, but when we were upstairs at Carol's she warned me to not get you off with your catheter in place."
It didn't matter. Just as she made the statement, I pressed both hands against my terry cloth diapered penis and experienced an explosive orgasm. Dr. Quincy had warned me not to have sex. Now I understood why. The catheter blocked the normal secretion route of the semen, and I could feel the intense pressure within my penis from the blocked exit around the outside of the catheter tube. As the moments passed the pressure subsided, and I assumed the pressure and the semen traveled backwards in the direction of the bladder. My only thoughts were, God, I wanted to have sex with this woman!
Exhausted from this intense ordeal, we both fell soundly asleep. C.Z.'s moist naked and shaved beauty and me in my pink baby doll with bonnet.
To be continued.
I awoke with a start. C.Z. was not in the bed and it was clearly morning, sunlight streaming into the bedroom through the spotlessly clean windows. I immediately smelled breakfast cooking; bacon and coffee for certain. As I arose, I could hear C.Z. humming in the kitchen. As I rounded the corner, I found her busy with the table setting. She was wearing only a very sheer night coat and no diaper. Clearly, she did not wish to cover anything from view.
I, on the other hand, was sporting a heavy 5 o'clock shadow, disheveled hair with missing bonnet, and a very, very wet diaper. C.Z. looked up and smiled brightly.
"I wondered when my little boy would wake up." She said with a kindness in her voice.
"Good morning," was my raspy morning-voice reply.
She came to meet me and grabbed my elbow, turning me again towards the bedroom.
"I think you need a change!" she remarked as she marched me into the bedroom and motioned for me to climb up on the bed.
"I'm going to take good care of you today, and you can do the same for me, OK?" She said, with a certainty in her voice.
Although I was a bit unclear about what she meant by her final statement, she was the kind of care giver I could grow fond of. And, without delay, I was ensconced in, not one but two fresh and very thick cloth diapers. These were not from my inventory, and I could only assume that she had just established her own private stock.
The plastic pants made for a very tight fit with the added bulk, and I was waddling more than I have ever before. She suggested that I get out of the baby-girl outfit, but I had to remind her that I had no clothing to change into. Yet, wanting to shed the sissy look, I peeled off the top without delay, and she retrieved a cotton bath robe for me to wear until we finished breakfast.
"Before we eat, you have a job to do for me," she said. My imagination immediately went to last night, but she promptly produced a disposable diaper.
"Your turn," she said to me as she hopped up on the bed.
I lifted her bottom and slid the diaper under, spreading her legs apart. As I adjusted the lengths, I quickly bent over and kissed her shaved pussy. She was startled and shivered but said nothing as I immediately applied the tapes. My handiwork left her with a very tightly applied diaper, and as she arose she seemed to like it.
"I can't seem to get them this tight, what did you do?" she inquired.
"It was the kiss." I replied and turned for the kitchen. So far this day was figuring to be fun, I thought.
We finished our breakfast of fruit, cereal and toast, bacon and eggs with little conversation. As we were left only with coffee I asked, "How long have you liked wearing a diaper?"
"Since as long as I can remember, but I do it far more now that I am living on my own. How about you? She asked.
"I have been wearing them on and off for about 15 years. My first time was on a dare by a girlfriend when we were planning costumes for a Halloween party. I was pretty scared at first, but finally began to enjoy it. The other girls at the party really liked it, and I got a lot of attention. But, I think it was probably subconscious memories of my infancy, and the safety and love that came with them back then. Both of my parents were really special and loving people. I just wish that they hadn't left this earth so young." I replied.
"Sorry about your parents, but that diaper experience sounds really cool, I think it's the same motivation I've had. I didn't ever publicly dress up, but liking diapers made me think I was pretty weird. I was so worried about it all that I went to a shrink to try to figure out what was wrong with me. Anyway, you heard the story last night about how I finally recognized that this wasn't really a bad thing, just a different thing." She explained.
"I'm not into that baby stuff so much, mostly it's the feeling that the diaper gives me when I wear it, and I don't usually wet them or mess in them; last night was pretty much an accident. This has been a pretty exciting week for me, too." She added.
"How did you happen to have the large size cloth diapers you put on me?" I inquired.
"Oh, I got them from Carol last night when you were 'occupied' downstairs." C.Z. replied.
"I forgot I had them until this morning, she gave me the plastic pants, too."
"Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you about that little thing yesterday...That vise thing really hurt. I hope you took some pleasure out of it, because I truly didn't. It was mean spirited." I said with a tone of displeasure.
"Hey, Carol was the one who suggested it. I only recognized it as a woodworker's vise because my dad had one on his workbench in the basement. I had no idea that she converted it into some sort of torture or training thing. Honest, I'm sorry, really I am." She replied in an apologetic way. I almost believed her.
"But, she did tell me that if you didn't mind me, all I had to do was say so and she would provide you with some additional behavior training. So, don't get too weird on me or I will!" She said, clearly taking control of the relationship once again.
"And for starters, I want you to do the dishes right now." She emphatically instructed using a very dominating demeanor.
I got up from the table with just a bit of attitude and started collecting the few dishes that we used and walking them to the kitchen. As I pulled open the dishwasher door, she barked; "I said DO the dishes, not load the dishwasher!"
I responded "yes, of course."
Immediately, I was acquiring that uncomfortable feeling that I got from Carol in the second day of my incarceration at her house. But this young thing was a beauty worth playing with. And, I also had no clothes here, only the loaned robe that was too short for my frame, and a massively diapered bottom. Not the sort of attire for an escape.
Finding the dish soap and towels, I went to work on the dishes, drying them and locating their storage places in the cabinets when done. At completion, I went to find C.Z. to inform her of the task completion. By this time, I had fairly well soaked the diaper, and really wanted to get a change. For this I would again, need to rely on her as I did not have my gym bag.
As I approached the bedroom, the door was closed. Thinking better of barging in, I knocked lightly and called out "C.Z.? are you there? I'm finished with the dishes."
C.Z. replied "Come in, then." I opened the door and entered.
C.Z. had transformed herself into a matronly looking disciplinarian with knee high vinyl boots, vinyl arm cuffs and gloves, and a bustier and she was holding a large wooden paddle. She was still wearing her diaper, but sported her beautiful bare breasts, complete with very firm nipples, through openings in the bustier.
"Get over here and take off your robe and diaper. I didn't much like the fact that you can't follow simple dishwashing directions. HERE! NOW! Stand next to the bed and put your elbows on the mattress."
Great, I thought. This was not going to be fun, not at all. I removed the robe as she walked behind me, but delayed removing the plastic pants and diaper. Whack! I could feel the burning of the paddle strike on the back of my legs below the diaper. If this was intended to hurt, it did. I wasted no more time in removing my plastic pants and pulling down my soggy diaper. Then I bent down onto the mattress, leaning on my elbows as requested.
Whack! I grimaced. Whack! Again, and again WHACK, whack. I think I received five or six hits, and my ass was hurting. But, I knew to keep my mouth shut. These were hard hits by any comparison.
"OK, little boy, do you understand how to take directions now?" She asked.
"Yes, yes I do, ma'am," Was my sheepish reply.
"Then get over here and lay on the bed, on your back, your head over the edge, looking at the ceiling." She ordered. And, I pretty much knew where this was going. I figured a diaper was the next order of business, as my catheter always lightly dribbled when I wasn't wearing a diaper. As she approached, she lowered her diaper to expose her beautiful shaved pussy and straddled my head. Start licking, and do it properly until I climax." She said.
Almost instantly I forgot my pain; and my penis immediately stood at attention. She was more salty tasting than last night. I surmised that she had used her diaper and I was sampling some residue. Not that I was objecting. With my tongue busy I alternated between licking and sucking, giving the clitoris special attention. In no more than ninety seconds her body trembled with the first orgasm. Moaning, she nearly collapsed onto me, but regained her strength and remained upright straddling my upturned face. The second orgasm came with an intensity greater than the first; placing her right arm on my chest to prevent falling over and squeezing my head tightly between her thighs. And then the third, at which time she leaned over further and grabbed my stiff cock, sending me into immediate orgasm.
With the catheter in place on the head of my penis, the ejaculation was unable to exit and caused pressure at the base of my penis. This pressure was temporary, though, as I had learned from the night before.
And, almost as quickly as she started this endeavor, she backed away saying: "That was a very good little boy. The last two times have been really great, you need to keep this level of performance in the days ahead. Now get up and put a new diaper on me." She ordered.
She had already placed a diaper on her dresser, so I didn't take much time. It was a disposable and quickly went in place. Then she directed me to go shower and shave my face, commenting that the small beard growth I was sporting was uncomfortable for her.
I wouldn't disagree with her observations, and I also needed to wash the urine that had dribbled on my groin. She handed me a washcloth and towel and left the bedroom.
The shower felt good, and with the moment of privacy, I noticed that the glued on sheath holding the catheter in place was beginning to release around its outside perimeter. Just as Dr. Quincy had indicated, the device was beginning to loosen. It was still attached enough to cause me to leave it alone, and the glue seemed to be unaffected by the water, so I resolved that I would still need to spend another few days with the inconvenience. I was growing very tired of the incontinence, and I was now suffering from a minor, but painful, diaper rash.
Noticing some hair stubble returning to my groin area and on my legs; the growth in my groin was causing itching and I wondered if I would be better to let the pubic hair grow out or shave again. Never mind, without a razor in the shower the point was moot.
As I stepped out of the shower and dried myself, I became conscious again of the dripping from the catheter. Not wanting to soil the rugs in the bathroom, I wrapped toilet paper around my penis to absorb any urine that would leak out while I shaved my face at the sink. C.Z. reentered the bathroom, still in her dominatrix outfit and diaper and immediately laughed at the appearance of my wrapped dick. When I looked at her with an amused facial feature, she remarked that it looked like it was in a hospital bandage, and she thought a dick injury to be an unusual appendage to be sporting a bandage.
I was not amused. She walked to me and took my wrapped cock in her hand, examining the scrotum and surrounding areas.
"Looks like you need a bit of a shave here, too!" She commented. Then she took a towel, laid it on her bed and said "go lay down when you finish your face. I'll shave the rest of you." When someone other than you is wielding a razor you should always have cause for caution, and most especially if they are wearing a dominatrix outfit and working near the family jewels. Carol was gentle, and I saw no reason why C.Z. wouldn't be either. At least that was my hope, so, I complied. Good old Mr. Johnson found her touch exciting, and again stood to the occasion. She removed the toilet paper and got to work with the soap and razor, finishing with a cool damp rinse and baby oil. God, it felt great. Next, she applied powder and another thick disposable diaper; this time with a plain white pair of plastic pants.
"Get up and go sit on the sofa in the living room." I was told. I complied, wanting no more of the paddle. After what seemed to be an hour, C.Z. returned to the living room. By this time I was 'wet' again and cold from wearing nothing but the diaper and plastic pants. She was now dressed in ordinary street clothes. Even in these, she was stunningly beautiful. I thought to myself how lucky I was to have made her acquaintance. And, I thought that this had, indeed, been a most unusual and bizarre week for me too.
She said nothing, but went into the kitchen and rustled around with cupboards, dishes, pots and pans, and the like. I could not smell food and didn't know what she was doing. It didn't matter. Staying on the couch was my job. Asking questions was not.
Another ten minutes or so later, she indicated that she needed me in the kitchen. When I arrived, she had spread out a large array of delightful cold food and vegetables.
"I know that you must be hungry, and this is much healthier that what you've been eating for the past week, I would guess. Anyway, I can tell from your lack of poop that you need roughage. When we finish, I want to go for a ride into the country. OK?" She said, sounding pleasant and just like the way she spoke at Dr. Quincy's house last night.
When we finished eating, she directed me into the bedroom for a diaper change. I quietly complied. Climbing onto the bed, C.Z. was quick to follow. When she pulled down my plastic pants and removed the diaper, she remarked with all seriousness: "that can't be good!"
Alarmed at her tone of voice, I elevated my shoulders with my arms so I could see what she was commenting about. In the soiled diaper was a mixture of what appeared to be blood and urine. The pink color was enough to cause me great concern.
"Dr. Quincy told me to call her if I had blood in my urine." I replied with worry clearly in my voice, too.
"I have her phone number in my wallet." Whereupon I realized that I did not have my wallet (or any of my clothes for that matter)! In fact, I did not know the good doctor's last name, either.
"I'll call Carol; she'll know how to get in touch with Dr. Quincy. Do you have a phone?" I asked.
"Sure, it's over there." C.Z. pointed as she replied. I quickly called Carol and explained my problem. She said she would call Dr. Quincy as soon as we finished talking, and then asked for C.Z.'s phone number. I read the number off the telephone dial, making a mental note of it for possible future reference. I really didn't want to lose contact with C.Z, even though she was much younger than I. And, with what we both seemed to have in common, I thought that we might become close friends.
Not more than five minutes after hanging up with Carol, the telephone rang. C.Z. answered and quickly passed the handset to me, silently mouthing "Dr. Quincy." After responding to a couple of simple questions regarding my sexual activities in the past 24 hours, Dr. Quincy indicated that she wanted me to come to her home immediately. When she began to offer directions, I apologized and said that I would put C.Z. on the line, as I didn't have my car and would need to rely on C.Z. to drive.
C.Z. realized that yesterday's attire was probably not appropriate for this visit, and suggested that I wear the bath robe that hid my diaper and hairless torso pretty well. We left her place and drove for about an hour, arriving at Dr. Quincy's house without further delay.
Presenting ourselves at her back door, we were immediately and warmly greeted by the kind doctor.
"You could have taken the time to dress for the trip here. I hope that I didn't lead you to think that this condition was a life or death emergency!" Dr. Quincy said.
"This was all I had, if you had suggested that it WAS an emergency, I would probably be here in a nice pink baby-doll outfit," I replied with a tinge of sarcasm in my voice.
"Oh! A bit of role playing going on last night?" She asked.
"I suppose it could be called that." I responded.
"Well, come to my exam room and let's have a look." She instructed as we walked to her in-home examination room.
"Drop your diaper and hop up on the table. C.Z. you can stay or leave." She added. C.Z. didn't move and just replied that she'd like to stay.
By this time my diaper was almost entirely bright pinkish-to-red with blood mixed with urine, and had the look of someone having poured strawberry kool-aid into my diaper.
"I'm going to have to take the catheter out. Lay back and relax. You'll only feel the cold from the adhesive solvent on your penis." Dr. Quincy remarked as she collected some material and put on a pair of surgical gloves, a gown and safety glasses.
At first I could feel the cold solution on my dick, and then I could smell a distinctive solvent odor of acetone as she handled my penis. In a matter of only several minutes she seemed to have completed the task and I could feel the silicone tube sliding gently out from my dick. She wiped the head of residual adhesive as the cold was causing Mr. Johnson to attempt a retreat into his cold weather cave.
"Now a few instructions; for the next couple of days; you will experience burning when you urinate; at first, there might be a bit of blood in the urine, but this should end in a day or so. But, more importantly, your bladder has become accustomed to draining and your urine holding capacity will be almost non-existent until it stretches. You'll want to stay in diapers for a few more days, at least. Otherwise you'll risk the embarrassment of wetting your pants! And, the diapers will allow you to monitor the bleeding. Got it?" She asked.
"Yes, got it" I replied.
Whereupon she quickly had me ensconced again in a fresh disposable diaper and returned the plastic pants to their previous place.
"Come you two, sit with me in my study for a few minutes," She offered.
I slipped off the exam table and C.Z. and I accompanied her into the adjoining office. She sat behind a beautiful cherry wood desk, and we sat in to finely crafted leather upholstered wing back chairs.
"L.B, you've been at this for about a week now. Tell me how you are adapting to this major change in your life? How do you feel about diapers and the lifestyle now?" Dr. Quincy asked.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Dr.," I replied.
"I was wondering how you felt about being, so to say, 'out of the closet' with your fetish; how you have felt meeting other people with similar desires, people with, how should I say...perhaps, less reluctance to engage in their fantasies or unusual lifestyles?" She continued.
"I'm still sort of processing all that has happened. My life has turned pretty much upside down from the routine I've lived for the past 10 years. I don't know yet if it is a good thing or not. Carol has some pretty damaging photographs and video recordings. Umm.
The sex has been great and the people I have met have been accepting and friendly. I'm just not sure about how this will change my life, and whether or not it is a good thing," was my reply.
"I worry some about how I can return to work with Carol and not have the recent events affect our work relationship." I glanced over to look directly at C.Z.
"But, C.Z. is wonderful, and I'm so happy that I met her," I continued.
"And you, C.Z. You just found the support you were long looking for, didn't you?"
"Yes," C.Z. responded
"Is it what you expected?" Dr. Quincy asked.
"Everything and more. I could never have had the experience of the past two days with any of my old boyfriends. They were too judgmental and too immature. And L.B. seems so at ease with himself and his love of diapers. I feel great relief in, how did you say it? Coming out?" C.Z. replied.
"Well, I'm happy for both of you. Just remember that you can speak with me anytime you need someone to listen. And, L.B, I'm giving you another week's worth of anti-biotics for you to take. These are the same as the earlier prescription. Use them until they are gone, and call me only if there is a continuing problem with your urinary tract, OK? No blood and no pain beyond three days." Dr. Quincy concluded, standing up as she finished.
"Will do, thanks Dr. Quincy," I said as I gave her a big hug and turned to leave with C.Z.
"Can we get my clothes now, C.Z?" I said.
We left Dr. Quincy's and drove to Carol's to retrieve my gym bag and clothing. Carol was at home, greeting us at the door. She said that she was in "training" with another client, and would bring my things to the door. As she turned to leave, I could see a portly older gentleman, clad only in diapers and plastic pants kneeling on the floor in the corner of the living room, facing the wall. It looked like punishment, and the sight sent a shiver up my back as I thought about my recent experiences with her. I wondered if he would learn about the hall closet bedroom or the woodworker's vise.
Carol excused herself as she left, closing the door. After my things were delivered to the front door, we returned to C.Z.'s car. I sat shotgun again, and as was fastening my seat belt, I said to C.Z, "rats, I really needed to use her bathroom, I need to pee."
C.Z. looked at me and smiled, saying, "What do you suppose the diaper is for, L.B?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," was my reply.
But, this was different. With the catheter, I didn't control anything. Now my regular 'function' was being relied upon to be working and the machinery wasn't used to functioning while strapped into a car seat. Finally, as C.Z. was driving away, I was able to release my bladder control and wet my diaper. The urine burned intensely and I grimaced with the pain. C.Z. picked up on my discomfort and rubbed my neck lightly, saying "You'll be ok, it'll be better tomorrow. We need to get you a good nap. We'll be home in about 25 minutes."
That was interesting, I thought. Her description of being "home" was awfully inclusive.
Was she saying something about our two day old relationship? I did feel very comfortable around her, and she represented every forty-something guy's dream of a vibrant and beautiful partner; his trophy date. But I couldn't get too far ahead on this, it was, perhaps nothing more than a mannerism of speech. I still knew nothing about her.
We arrived at her place and I was looking forward to losing the bathrobe and actually getting back into my clothes. C.Z. opened the door as I hauled in the stuff, taking it directly to the bedroom and placing it on the bed. C.Z. was behind me and said, "Not there, we need to nap. Put it on the floor by the closet. Now get up here for a change."
She said patting the mattress.
As I lay back and she quickly replaced my pink stained diaper with a fresh disposable one. Pulling my plastic pants back up to cover the diaper, she got up on the bed and stretched out next to me. She put her arm over my chest and pulled us tightly together. She lightly kissed my ear and whispered, "You can only imagine how glad I am that we met. I'm so happy just now; and," whispering even more quietly, "before we sleep I need a diaper change."
"Shall I, my dear," I said in a jesting way, using my best impersonation of a British Lord.
"Of course, sir," was the similarly jesting and in character reply. I arose from the bed and went to fetch her supplies, returning to find her lying on her back ready for the procedure. I removed her very wet diaper and took it to the diaper pail in the bathroom only steps away; returning with a damp wash cloth ready for the task at hand. When I looked up, I was surprised to find her masturbating.
"Stop that!" I shouted, obviously scaring her with the sharpness and sternness of my voice. She immediately removed her fingers from her pussy and moved them to her chest. I could instantly sense that I was now in charge; the alpha male, and immediately directed her to roll over on her stomach. She complied immediately. I then gave her very decisive and hard spank to her bottom with my open palm. She winced from the pain and even my hand stung.
"It will be much worse if I catch you doing that without my permission again." I admonished.
"Do you understand?" I asked emphatically, expecting an immediate response. When there was none, I struck her bottom again with equal force, eliciting an immediate "Yes, Yes, I understand," from her.
"Good, then, turn over and I'll get your diaper on." I said with a more understanding tone of voice. Again, she complied and I completed the cleaning and powdering of her most beautiful pussy. Finishing with a pair of pink plastic pants, I rejoined her on the bed, stopping to plant a very gentle kiss on her lips. She turned to her side and I lay down behind her, matching every curve that her body made on the linens; our bodies touching; my chest to her back. I stretched my arm over her side and began to gently manipulate her nipple while holding her close. I could feel her body relax and sensed her softening pulse and breathing. She did not speak, and we both fell quickly into deep sleep.
We must have slept for two hours or more. I awoke feeling refreshed and relaxed. I was finding it hard to adjust to not having the catheter in, and again sensing the need to empty my bladder. With urination there was pain, and I was hopeful that the irritation caused by the catheter would cease soon. C.Z. was still sleeping. I looked at her beautiful and slender body and smelled her fresh hair. I decided to remain motionless to simply enjoy the pleasure of the moment. It was easy to wet my diaper in this circumstance; I just wanted time to stand still and stay here forever.
In due time, C.Z. awoke. Not with a start, but with a gentle movement. Then she rolled over to face me in the bed. She said nothing, moved her face closer and our lips met in a soft and luxurious kiss. She then pulled herself closer to me pressing her supple breasts against my chest. I was as aroused as ever and I could only think of having sex with her at that moment.
Reaching down I began to pull her diaper off, finishing the operation with my foot. She had not wet and I allowed the diaper to drop to the foot of the bed. I placed my hand on the small of her back and pressed her close to me. She responded by presenting me with firmed nipples. I immediately removed my slightly wet diaper allowing it to fall to the side of the bed, and quickly positioned myself on top of her, as she and I became more and more aroused.
Then I guided my penis into her soft and warm pussy, as we gyrated and moved to the internal beat of the love song we were writing together. Remarkably, we exploded into orgasm at the same time. And, even as I was spent, she followed with orgasm after orgasm. Still saying nothing, and keeping her eyes closed. I had never experienced sex this way before.
When I could sense exhaustion in us both, I moved aside and slowly arose from the bed.
"That was amazing. I think I'm falling in love with you C.Z." I said softly. Whereupon, I noticed a tear forming in each of her eyes; "I think I'm falling in love with you, too." She said very softly, getting up on her knees to passionately kiss me again.
I held her close and said nothing. We did not move for minutes, both simply enjoying the moment. This was beyond what I had ever dreamed life could be. This would be a diapered life, two people with similar desires, how we got here became irrelevant. I just knew that this would be good, very good, indeed.
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