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I made the mistake of mentioning
that I had been naughty for not going to bed on time. It
seemed like such an innocent thing at the time, but it
turned out to have dire consequences. The person I said
it too was a female colleague of mine and the only
reason I said it because I was trying to say something
to everyone every day. Simply to be a pleasant person.
Initially, I had no idea anything
was wrong. She simply asked me out to dinner that
friday. I wasn't entirely sure whether it was supposed
to be a date or not, but because we were going right
after work, there was no need to decide. Or so I thought
anyway, she asked me to wear something comfortable like
jeans or something. "I always see you in your business
clothes," she said, "I'd love to see you in something
else." That seemed entirely reasonable.
I was a bit giddy when friday came
around. It had been a while since I had actually gone
out with anyone and even though I wanted to make a good
impression I couldn't help but squeak. She simply smiled
at me and ignored my shaky voice.
I had my casual clothes neatly
packed in my backpack and when the end of the day came,
I disappeared into the toilets to change. The biggest
problem was not getting dressed in a confined, but
managing to put my business clothes away in such a way
that I wouldn't have to spend ages ironing them out. I
managed with some patience. Well, not some, a lot.
She was already waiting for me by
the time I emerged from the bathrooms. She was a
schoolbook example of feminine elegance. She wore a knee
length skirt, loose and diagonally cut, and a blouse
that hid the curves of her hips and breasts and yet
managed to accentuate her beauty. Especially her eyes,
that seemed to be piercing through me right at that
moment. Her smile, on the other hand was heartwarming
and comforting, putting me right at ease.
She had told me to pick a
restaurant and thus I had picked one that was relatively
close to where I lived. The restaurant was a cozy one,
with a lot of wood in the decor and a sort of homely
warm feeling. We both drove their in our own cars, which
made sense, as she could hardly leave her car at work.
She'd probably need it that weekend.
We started talking about work
almost immediately, because that was what we had in
common, but that turned out to be a bad idea as there
was no romance in that topic. Instead, she shifted
toward asking me about my lovelife. She played it coy,
of course, but it was obvious she was trying to find out
if there wasn't someone in my life, or maybe if there
were good reason to be or not to be with me. It made me
a little nervous, but the second she noticed her thumb
was brushing my left hand. I returned the favor, asking
if there wasn't someone in her life.
"Not rght now," she answered, "the
last guy I was with wanted different things. I mean,
there's always room for both partners to have their own
interests, but we just couldn't make our differences
I almost said "I'm sorry," but that
kind of sounded stupid. Her previous relationships were
none of my business anyway.
We both ate the lasagne, although
hers was with broccoli and mine was with mushrooms. We
were both kind of quiet while we were eating, but her
eyes seemed determined to figure me out. And maybe I was
going crazy, but she looked kind of nervous too. I tried
to replicate her move with the thumb caressing the hand,
but that did not remove the hint of nervousness, it only
magicked another smile on her face that seemed equally
as warm as before.
We took our time after dinner,
drinking another coffee before she asked if we were
going back to my place. I wasn't sure if that was the
best idea. Every time I had done that on the first date
it had turned out to be a one night stand, and that's
not what I wanted. On the other hand, it had certainly
been a while.
I figured I'd see where it went and
how comfortable I felt about that. I didn't exactly want
to say no to her either, that seemed like an even worse
idea than a one night stand. It wasn't actually much
further to my place, so I suggested we walk, but she
didn't want to leave her car behind. Maybe she had
clothes in there if the night went well. Nevertheless I
replied: "oh, I actually thought walking would be nice."
"Then we'll take a walk after we
park our cars. It does seem like a lovely evening for
that," she answered with a little sparkle in her eye. To
be honest, I wasn't entirely certain what I had done to
impress her. Then again, maybe it had just built up over
time and the simple fact that there were no big
turn-offs was enough to make it seem like a match.
In any case, we did as she had
suggested. After parking our cars at my little house, we
went for a walk. There was a forest close to my home,
but that wasn't the perfect romantic place to be after
nightfall due to the darkness, so I took her the other
way. That meant a lot of houses at first, but eventually
we'd come out on the river, which was a big flat
grassland that gave you a good look at the stars. Even
more so due to the lack of street lighting.
Despite a lack of conversation
between the two of us, time seemed to pass quickly,
until I noticed my bladder growing anxious. I hadn't
gone at the restaurant, and while I didn't really need
to go then, we did drink wine with our dinner and
alcohol could make you go more than it had any right to.
I tried to nudge her back toward my place with "we
should start heading back."
It didn't take. She gave me a look
and said "no, it's nice here, let's stay a while longer.
As an incentive she poked me in the side and leaned
closely against me. I didn't want to spoil the mood by
sharing my predicament. Like I said, it had been a
while, I didn't want to screw this one up. So I did what
anyone would do in that case and I held it. I could hold
out a while if need be.
She really took her time enjoying
the moment, until at one point she whispered into my ear
"I changed my mind. I don't want you to wet yourself out
of desperation, I want you to do it on purpose."
How would you react to that? I,
personally, was dumbfounded and had I had anymore need
to pee at that instance, it would've just run down my
leg. I didn't though and my bladder simply ached for
release. "What?" I asked her, not believing for a second
the words I had heard in my ear.
"Just go ahead," she said,
completely unwilling to confirm what she had whispered
in my ear and yet leaving no doubt that she had.
That left me with a big choice on
whether to accept this madness or not. Accepting it
meant taking a risk that I had actually heard what I had
heard, but I did really need to go and I wasn't sure I
was going to make it back to my place at any point. So I
took a step away from her and turned around. I tried to
let it go, but it simply refuse to start. I tried again
and failed again, my bladder straining as much for
release as against it. Definitely madness. I tried to
relax imagined I was in a bathroom and finally, after a
handful more tries managed to release.
"Naughty boy," she said and my
stream dried up instantly despite the fact that I still
needed to go. I blushed, though you could not see it in
We started heading back to my place
instantly. Partially thanks to the cold night, my wet
pants became very cold and very uncomfortable rapidly.
Was I supposed to say something about that, I didn't
know, so I kept my mouth shut and bore the discomfort. I
tried to set the pace but she stopped me, refusing to
walk any faster. She even made that disapproving noise
with her tongue.
When we finally arrived back at my
place, she took a bag from her car, all the while
holding on to me so I couldn't race inside to hide my
humiliation. After locking her car she was the one who
walked us up to the door. I opened and wanted to rush
inside but once again she kept me back and took her
She found her way to my bedroom all
by herself, not bothering to even ask me. She found the
light and flicked it on and the placed me in the middle
of my bedroom to look at my wet pants. I was quite
mortified, even after having done that myself.
"Look at you," she said. "You
should be in diapers."
"What? I'm not a little child," I
reflexively answered, like anyone over the age of five
would do upon being told they should be in diapers.
"And I should put you to bed too."
"Nuh-uh!" I replied childishly, and
I knew I had made a mistake.
She just smiled at me with a
triumphant grin. "Riight! So you aren't a little child,
are you? Refusing to go to bed, wetting your pants,
throwing tantrums?" From an outside perspective she was
kind of right. Not that that really made me a child, but
it certainly was a good excuse.
She opened up her bag on my bed,
leaving me standing in the middle of the room, still in
my wet pants. She dug through for a few moments and then
pulled out a little box that in turn she pulled a
pacifier from. It took half a second before she had
popped it in my mouth and she was back to pulling things
from her bag. First was something white, that I couldn't
tell what it was, next was what looked like some sort of
nightie. That was probably for her. And finally she
pulled out a box of wet wipes.
She took her bag off the bed and
patted it. "Here, on the bed," she cooed in a far too
soft voice for attitude that went with it. Nevertheless,
I did as I was told, trying not to look at her the whole
way. More and more I was simply embarrassed for having
wet myself, nevermind that she engineered the situation.
An adult simply should not be wetting himself, no matter
what the circumstances were.
She began undressing me as if I was
a little kid incapable of the task. She told me to put
my arms up and then pulled my sweater over my head and
then repeated the same ordeal with my t-shirt, rewarding
me with a "good boy" compliment when she was done. When
she got to my pants she said, mocking surprise, "aww,
did you wet your pants?"
I could only blush at first, but
she was clearly waiting for an admittance of guilt. "I
did it on purpose," I said boldly, trying to muster up
all the defiance I could.
"Oh? Well, if you want to act like
a little baby, I'll have to treat you like one I guess,"
That's when it hit me that the
white thing was and always had been a diaper. I didn't
recognize it because it was neatly folded up.
She pulled off my pants gently,
even though that was still mightly uncomfortable as the
cold wet fabric kept hugging my legs as long as it
could. My underwear came next. I was not turned on at
all, not now that I had figured out what was coming.
That seemed to amuse her, but it didn't matter, she
simply began cleaning my groin with the wet wipes, as
thoroughly as she could. She even snuck a finger in my
ass for a second.
When she was finally done, she
opened up the diaper, which turned out to be some kind
of pull-up. She didn't even have to make me put my legs
through it. I was not thrilled with the idea of wearing
a diaper, but I had accepted that was where the night
was heading. Why I didn't have a problem with it I'll
never know. She tucked my little guy down once it was
inside the diaper and then made sure it was snug. It was
as soft as a good teddy-bear and I couldn't say it was
"Good boy," she complimented again
as she patted me on the head. "Now, arms up!"
Had I missed something? No, that
nightie on the bed was meant for me. At that I did
protest. "No. No!" Which was a rather weak protest, but
then again, I was an adult man standing in my room in a
diaper that I had let her put on me for having wet
myself at her command.
Which was exactly what she came
back with. "Sweetie, you're a little boy who needs
diapers and I need to be able to look at your diaper to
see if you need a change, so you'll have to wear
something I can easily peek under."
I wasn't going to win that
argument, no matter what I said. How could I, after
everything I had already allowed her to do to me? At
that point, all that was left for me to wonder was where
this was going and how long she would keep it up.
When she had finally put the
nightie on me, she led me to the bathroom and handed me
my toothbrush. She really seemed determined to put me to
bed. I was so shocked that I actually released my
bladder accidentally and flooded my diaper. I must've
given it a glance, because the next second she was
taking a look at it. "Aww, that's ok, sweetie," she
said, "that's what it's for. Now brush your teeth." She
gave me a pat on my bottom to get me moving.
She led me back to my bedroom after
and did what I had feared. She pulled back the blanket
and urged me to crawl into bed. "But, it's still so
early," I protested, and then "this isn't how dates are
supposed to go."
All I got in return was a big smile
"aww, but you are tuckered out after everything that
happened tonight." That was definitely not a question.
"Besides, I'll still be here in the morning, someone has
to change your diaper," she said with a wink and a kiss
on my forehead. And then she turned off the light and
left me alone in my bed, wet diaper hugging my bottom
and preventing me from sleeping.
I would be lying if I said I didn't
like it. There is something about being mothered that
makes us feel all safe and wonderful and loved, and once
I got over the absurdity of it all, I simply curled up
and tried to sleep. That took a while, but I held on to
the fact that someone would be there to take care of me
in the morning.
After you've finished reading, you might want to return to the DailyDiapers Story Index