Another double dose of Doing Business this week! Eighty-Two For the last few blocks of our walk, I felt as if I was lost in a swirling haze. It wasn’t until we were nearing the front steps of Paige’s apartment building that I realized I hadn’t said a word since she told me of her observation. It wasn’t that I was upset with her in any way. I was just feeling a little emotionally overwhelmed. And, feeling the panicked twisting in my abdomen, physically too. “You alright?” Paige asked. “Oh, uhm, yeah…” “You’re still coming inside, right?” I had almost forgotten why I had been following her in the first place. A little bit ago, just before Paige observed that I was still in love with Ava, I had been preparing myself to tell Paige everything. I was going to talk about Mommy, and the chastity, and the time spent working at the company where I met Ava in the first place. This, I had mostly convinced myself, was going to be the start of something really special between Paige and I. “Is that okay?” She laughed and shook her head. “Silly. I’m the one who invited you, remember?” I had no idea where Paige and I stood now. She was smiling. Laughing. She was taking care of me, I supposed, by ushering me into her apartment as opposed to just leaving me behind on the street. At the very least, I could say that she wasn’t mad at me. “How’s this thing doing?” she asked, her open palm swatting my bottom as she followed me up the steps inside the building. It didn’t hurt, but I did note that the playful swat felt a little different when I was wearing a pull-up as opposed to a diaper. “S-still dry,” I said. “For now.” “Not me,” she said, strutting past me to lead the way. “I’m nice and squishy. You felt that, right?” My lips broke into a small smile. It was hard to feel down when she had such a buoyant energy about her–especially when it came to soggy diapers.  “I felt it,” I nodded. “It felt good.” Back in Paige’s apartment, the shot glasses we used earlier were still sitting on the counter. She noticed them at the same time I did. “Let’s refill those, yeah?” “Good idea,” I said. I wasn’t interested in getting trashed, but another shot of cheap whiskey might be just the thing I needed to numb my overactive nerves a bit. “So, you’ve got it bad for her, huh?” she asked, tipping the bottle of brown liquid into the shot glasses. “I mean…she’s taken. I’ve been trying to move on.” Paige laughed. “Is that me? An attempt to move on?” “N-no…” “I’m not offended,” she shrugged. “I mean, honestly, good for you. There’s people out there who fall in love with someone who isn’t available to them, and they just sort of shut down. They never move past it, and they stay stuck in this miserable limbo for eternity.” “Has that ever happened to you?” I asked. “What? Being stuck in a lovelorn-limbo? Can’t say I have. I have different sorts of relationship issues. You know, like being noncommittal or having these soul-breaking bouts of feeling like I’m not enough for someone.” “Noncommittal?” I wouldn’t have guessed that this would be something she struggled with–but we also didn’t know each other that well. “Oh, sure,” she shrugged, sliding one of the shot glasses across the counter to me. “I love all the fun stuff. Flirting. Kissing. Sex. But as soon as we have to have a serious conversation about where our relationship is going, I’m looking for the quickest route to the window so I can leap out of it.” “Wow…” “Why do you think the closest thing I had to a relationship was just a friends-with-benefits?” she asked. I wasn’t sure what to make of this information. On one hand, it made me feel a little better about my lingering feelings for Ava–and being called out by her for said feelings. On the other, I was now trying to imagine what would’ve happened if Paige hadn’t made the observation she had. Would I have come back to her place, spilled my guts to her, only to be disappointed–either today or in the near future–when I learned that she wasn’t interested in the same relanship I might have been? We clinked our small shot glasses together and kicked back our burning liquid again. It tasted bad. It felt bad going down my throat. But in a good way. It felt like penance. “Well,” I shrugged, “since we’re peeling back all the layers of the onion…I guess there’s a few other things I could share with you. If you want to know, that is.” She laughed and made her way over to the couch. Once sitting, she patted the seat next to her, beckoning for me to join her. I did so. “Let me see if I can guess,” she said.  I snorted and shrugged. “I mean, you can try…” “You’re, like, an internet superstar. You have thousands of followers and they watch your every move. Every dirty diaper is logged and chatted about by your friends in forums and message boards.” “Uh…no. I mean, not that I know of.” That was the dangerous sort of idea I’d want to keep away from Mommy. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that apparently Ava has spent a good amount of time in diapers in the past?” “Yeah… Actually, it has a lot to do with that.” “I’m all ears if it’s a story you want to tell.” “I do. I was going to anyway, I think.” I started to get up from the couch again. “Real quick, though, maybe I should just go and use the restroom…” “Are you kidding me right now?” she laughed. “You’re wearing a diaper.” “A pull-up.” “Hate to break it to you, but that’s still a diaper, baby.” “I know, but I’ve got to…” I had a little flashback of the last time I was in Paige’s apartment, and how I sprinted to her bathroom and befouled her toilet so that I didn’t have to soil my diaper in front of her. The stress of the last hour had been causing chaos in my abdomen, and I was worried that I was close to having to make the same decision again. “Sit down,” she said. “And if you go in your training pants…well, that’s what they’re for. I’ve got diapers here.” “But…we’re not talking about just wetting here.” “I know,” she smiled. “It’s okay. And I’ll make you a deal. If you do it, I’ll do it too.” I laughed and shook my head, unsure if I could even believe what she just said. “Yeah right…” “I’m serious!” She held out her hand, pinky extended towards me. “Pinky promise. A, uh, pinky promise poop pact. If one of us goes tonight, we both go. Deal?” I sighed. I wasn’t completely in love with this idea, but it did have its charms. It reminded me of the ‘old days’ a little–that time when I was exploring diapers at work and at home. Back before I was living with Mommy. Back when everyday just felt like a wildly humiliating adventure. I was thinking about the times spent with Ava and Lyndie. Or Kylie, when I was in Seattle. Or Megan. “Deal,” I said, my pinky finger wrapping around hers. “Alright, good. With that established, why don’t you tell me your little story.” “So…a while back, I had gotten an internship with this big company. It seemed like a really big deal at first, but I quickly started to see it as what it really was–a company looking for nobodies to exploit for cheap labor on dumb projects nobody else wanted to do.” “Wait, so this is what you wanted to tell me about? An internship?” “Hold on,” I chuckled. “We’re getting there.” “Proceed.” “So, one day, this guy who works for the company approached me with a job to do. This guy is pretty much a nobody at the company–the kind of guy who’d be doing the things the interns were doing if there weren’t interns. Even us interns know this guy isn’t important. We don’t even know his name–we made up a name for him and that was the only name we knew him by for months. So, he gives me this silly little job of hanging up some award plaque in a hallway. So I go and do it, and end up running into this woman. Who, it turns out, is the CEO of the entire company.” “Is this the part where you start some forbidden sex scandal with her? The CEO and the intern?” “Uh, well, actually…” “Get out of here. Seriously? You?” “I’m getting to it,” I smirked. “It’s all in the story.” “Okay, okay. I’m listening. Please go on.” “So, uhm, yeah. The CEO–this woman named Gabrielle Heller–offers me an opportunity. She makes it pretty obvious from the very start that my real job would be, uhm, doing whatever humiliating things she can come up with. And, well…I took that opportunity. Almost immediately, I get swept up in this world of bringing my boss joy through my own submission.” “Diapers?” Paige asked. “Uh, yeah. Exactly. That’s what Ms. Heller wanted me to wear. Right from the start.” I go on. I tell her about the other intern, Lyndie, who slowly got dragged into my game. I tell her about the whole world of perverted executives and their assistants that’s slowly revealed to me. I tell her about the surreal coronation ceremony where I was passed around and spanked before having a chastity device affixed to my manhood. “Seriously? Chastity? Like…one of those things that go over your dong?” I felt my heart beating quickly in my chest. It had been a while since I got to experience this kind of anxiety–a very specific brand of anxiety that seemed to only come from revealing secrets about myself to new people in my life.  “That’s right.” “Jeez. And so was the idea to prevent you from ever having sex again? Or was your boss just saying that she was in control of when sex happened?” “The latter.” “Wow. And how long did you have to wear that for?” “Oh, well… We’ve got a bit more to cover in the story, and I’m sure by the end you’ll have an answer to that.” “Wait. You’re still wearing it, aren’t you?” “Uhm…” “Right now, your dick is all locked up, isn’t it?” I sighed. “Yeah.” “I guess I would’ve figured that out sooner or later, huh?” “I was going to tell you tonight, actually,” I laughed. “For what it’s worth.” “I’d ask if I could see it. But…maybe we should get through this story first.” “Fair enough,” I said. The story continued. Paige now learns about the trip to Seattle. I told her of Kylie, who started as my babysitter, but ended up in diapers herself by the end of the trip. Then it’s back home again. My feelings for Ava grow, Lyndie gets a nursery in the office, and Thomas Pritchard–the low-ranking employee who got me into this whole situation in the first place–becomes suspicious of how I got my position in the first place. I told her about the chaos created when my mother decided she wanted to come and see me, and how I ended up pissing in my actual pants in the middle of a restaurant when we finally did get brunch together. I told her of Megan, who didn’t end up putting me in girlish clothes, though she had accidentally sent some explicit photos of my messy bottom to my mother. “Holy moley,” Paige said, wide-eyed and slowly shaking her head. “I don’t know if I'd ever recover from that.” “That was…quite the day. My mother and I seem to be in a better place now. But I still get nightmares about that.” “And those pictures–your mom saw, like, everything?” “I don’t know how much attention she paid to them, but…it was all there. Every disgustingly messy detail.” “Speaking of messy…I’m assuming that pull-up of yours is still clean?” “I think you’d know if it wasn’t,” I smiled. “You must be dying to use it.” I laughed. “What is with you wanting me to poop my diaper in front of you?” She sighed and shrugged. “Well, I mean…sure I do want to see it. But the sooner that you go…” “Oh,” I said. “I see. You have to go, and you were hoping that I’d go first so that you didn’t have to be the one to poop first.” More nervous laughter from her. “Look,” I said. “A pinky promise poop pact goes both ways. If you use your diaper, I still have to use mine. You don’t have to wait for me to go.” “Ugh,” she groaned. “Fine. Why don’t you, uh, go on with your story. I’m still listening.” “Right, so, this is where everything changes. So I told you about Thomas Pritchard, right? As it turns out, one of the other executives is attempting to conspire with him to expose all the baby stuff to the company’s board of directors. I guess he was hoping that the board would shut it all down and fire Ms. Heller, giving him the chance to step up and…” Paige let out a little grunt. Her cheeks were bright red. “Are…you okay?” I asked. “I’m good,” she said, though the smile on her face looked incredibly fake to me.  “Are you sure? Because you look like you’re…” “I’m fine,” she quickly said. “Just keep going.” “Okay, uhm… So, meanwhile, we’re all kind of panicking because we don’t know what we’ll do if Thomas actually goes through with talking to the board. So Lyndie decides that she’s going to take matters into her own hands and has a conversation with him. Mind you, nobody else knows about this. But I guess they talked and she managed to convince him that he should try wearing a…” Paige was distracting me again, this time she was leaning forward in her seat some, her ass lifting up slightly from the couch cushion. “Paige, are you…” I would’ve asked if she was about to mess in her diaper, but it seemed that I didn’t actually have to ask. I was cut off by a bass-heavy rumbling noise erupting from her bottom. She let out another grunt–more of a girlish whine this time–and her face was redder than I had ever seen it before. “Fuck,” she gasped. “I…I think it’s happening. I’m…pooping.” It was rare that I wasn’t the one saying that, or the one in her position. I would be, soon enough, I supposed–the urgency in my own bowels was growing, on top of the fact that our pinky promise had committed me to filling my diaper up after she was done.  “Keep…talking…” she said, letting out another little squeak as a wet squelching noise came from her diaper. I would’ve loved to, but I was far too distracted by the show I was witnessing. I tried for a moment, but it just felt like random words were tumbling out of my mouth: “So…like. Uhm. I, er… He…” “It’s…it’s going everywhere!” she exclaimed.  I found some words to say, but they weren’t from the story I was telling. Instead, they were the words that were usually said to me when someone watched me filling my diaper. “Go on. You’re doing good. Get it all out.” “Urrrrh,” she moaned, continuing to push and grunt. I couldn’t get over how perfect of an addition Paige seemed to be to my life. She would’ve been a great assistant back at the old office. She would’ve made someone like Mommy or Ms. Beaufort quite happy. I could see her getting along with Lyndie splendidly. I could even see her being the best friend Megan needed. Alright, alright. I’ll call Megan tomorrow. “All done,” Paige finally said. “I think.” She sat back again, putting her weight on her messy diaper, her eyes growing big as she felt the newly deposited mass squishing and spreading even further within the padding. The smell was just now reaching my nose, the expected rotten stench of a dirty diaper–though it was a smell that seemed unique to her bottom. I certainly wasn’t capable of identifying other big babies by the smell of their loads yet–though I had observed that everyone’s dirty diapers tended to smell different. “Uhm…how does that feel?” I asked. “Good,” she replied, her voice soft and a smile spreading between two very pink cheeks. “But…it’s your turn now, right?” “A pinky promise is a pinky promise,” I shrugged.  Truthfully, I was rather impressed by how Paige had gone about filling her diaper. There was a time when it was almost impossible for me to load a diaper unless I was in some sort of squatting position, but the repetition of the act while living with Mommy had taught me to poop in just about any position. Sitting on a cushioned surface, as we were now, had been one of the last positions I had mastered. It was tempting to get on my feet and pop a squat–maybe even giving Paige a little show of the back of my diaper expanding–but I chose to match her.  It was, as it had been for some time, almost too easy. I put the slightest amount of pressure on my bowels, and suddenly they were releasing. My mess lacked the rippling music of Paige’s, though I more than made up for it with the sound of the soft load quickly filling the back of my diaper to capacity–the plastic backing crinkling and stretching as I fed the garment everything that was inside of me. As quickly as it started, it was over. “Was that it?” she asked, a look of surprise on her face. “It’s that easy.” “A real professional, huh?” “Oh, you have no idea. I mean…if I keep going with the story, you’ll hear all about it.” “Hmm. I mean…I do want to hear the story. But…how the hell can I concentrate on that when I’m wearing this?” she asked, her hands pointing down to her crotch. “You’re such a novice,” I teased.  “What, like you’ll poop your pants and just carry on with your day?” I laughed and shrugged. “I mean…I’ve had someone else point out that I’ve messed myself before I even realized I had done it.” “Hashtag: baby goals. So…now what?” “I dunno. I guess now is whatever you want. Sit there in your diaper if you want. Get changed. Crawl around.” “We stink.” “Yeah. The thing about diapers is…” We both laughed again, leaning back further on the couch simultaneously. “Are you any good at changing diapers?” she asked. “No, not really. I mean…I’ve done it. I could do it again if I had to. But I’m not good at it.” “I…don’t think I can handle this mess,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about what to do.” “Trust me, it’s a lot easier when someone else is changing you.” “No offense, Smelly, but I’m not sure I want you poking around my butt while it’s caked in…” “Oh…I wasn’t volunteering,” I laughed. “I’m not any more excited about getting my own diaper changed without an extra hand or two. And I definitely wouldn’t ask you to do that.” “So what do we do? Stay in our icky diapers for the rest of our life?” “We can stay in them for a little bit,” I shrugged. “Sooner or later, we’ll have to do something about them though. If not for ourselves, then for society.” “Fuck society,” Paige giggled. “From now on, Pizza Girl is Stinky Girl.” A thought had bloomed while Paige talked about not wanting to change herself, and it continued to blossom. It might’ve been kind of crazy–but it also might have been the best two option for two babies with no desire to change themselves. “I, uhm, might have someone who could change our diapers for us.” She laughed. “So…I’m supposed to let some stranger poke at my dirty ass?” “I know, I know. But, if you were going to let some stranger wipe you clean, this is the one you’d want. She loves this stuff. She’s a master at it. She’s changed, like, millions of diapers.” “Millions?” “She’s changed…a lot of diapers. She’s changed a lot of my diapers.” She laughed. “This isn’t, like, your mother or something, is it?” “Uhm…well. Not my mother. But I do call her Mommy.” Eighty-Three Mommy’s tone had a faux-sternness about it–a tone she’d sometimes use when she wanted to sound much more concerned than she actually was. If someone else heard it, someone who might not have known her as well as I did, they might have mistaken it for something more serious. “I haven’t heard from you all night, Clarky.” “I-I know. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to you sooner, but…” “I’m going to assume that means you’re having a good time?” I almost laughed, though I kept myself composed. Her question may not have been funny, but the answer was. I was standing in Paige’s apartment, looking out the window while I continued to marinate in the packed-to-capacity pull-up I was wearing. Somewhere behind me, Paige was sitting on the couch, her hands currently slipped down the front of her pants as she groped at the plastic padding of her own loaded diaper. “It’s been a good time,” I said. “But, uhm…actually, there was something I was hoping you could help me with.” “Uh oh,” Mommy said. I could hear her smiling. “What happened? Was your pull-up not up to the task of holding whatever it was you put into it? Do you need a change of pants?” “Well…” Mommy snickered on the other end of the call. “How bad is it?” “For what it’s worth, the pull-ups seem to be doing their job,” I said. Somewhere behind me, I heard Paige giggling at me. “But I’m kind of nervous about pulling my pants down and taking a closer look.” Mommy’s voice got even more playful, sounding almost like babytalk: “Did the baby go poopy in his pants?” I could see my face reflected in Paige’s window, and I could see my cheeks were bright red. “I…did, yeah.” “And does your friend know?” I laughed nervously. “Oh yeah.” “Oh my. And how does she feel about that?” “Well… I would say she’s pretty on board with it.” “Is that so? Clarky, you’ve struck gold.” “So the thing is–and the reason I’m calling you about this–she’s also wearing a…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it too loudly, even though Paige was already well aware of her current status. “...she’s also wearing a diaper.” “Okay?” Mommy said, sounding like she was waiting for more information to be shared before making any further comment. “And…it’s also dirty.” Mommy laughed. “What happened over there, Clarky?” I sighed. “I was just thinking that we could use your help.” “And your friend, she’s okay with that?” “I think so?” I turned around to check in on Paige, who was squeezing the bulk between her legs. “I think she’s a little apprehensive about having a stranger change her…but I think she’d rather someone else do it than have it be her problem.” “Smart,” Mommy said. “Send me the address and I can be over in a little bit.” “Are you sure? I’m not pulling you away from anything, am I?” “I’ve only been waiting to hear from you, Clarky. It won’t be a problem at all. Dare I say–it might even be fun.” Only Mommy would see the prospect of changing two stinky diapers as ‘fun.’ That was what I loved about her. “Thank you, Mommy.” “Always happy to help, Clarky. For as long as I can.” It was a strange note to end the call on. It almost felt foreboding, like she was thinking ahead to a time when she might not be able to help. But, no, I didn’t think that was it. It was more likely she was referring, sort of, to what was happening right now. I was out of the house. I was with friends. I was making new connections and reclaiming my life again. Someday, I wouldn’t be living with Mommy. Someday, I wouldn’t be looking to her to fix everything that went wrong. She would if I asked–but I’d want to resolve it for myself. And I’d be able to. There’d be plenty of time to think about that in the future.  “So?” Paige asked from the couch. “Did you convince your, er, Mommy to come and change us smelly babies?” “I did!” She looked surprised by that answer. I don’t think she doubted that it was possible, but now this was actually happening–and she seemed unsure of what to think about that. “So…she’s going to, like, change us?” “That’s what she does.” “Me? She’s going to change me?” She laughed, knowing she already had the answer to her question. “If you want her to,” I shrugged.  “Alright, well…if we’ve got a little bit before she gets here, maybe you should finish your story, huh? Or, at the very least, tell me about this woman being your ‘Mommy.’” “Right, so…” The story went on from where I left off. Lyndie had convinced Thomas Pritchard to wear diapers himself in an effort to show him what the ‘promotion’ he thought he was missing out on actually was. I told Paige of how that plan seemed to work at first, though it would ultimately lead to Thomas’s erratic behavior in the office. I told her of how said erratic behavior seemed to spell the end for our halcyon days of being babied at the workplace. “Ms. Heller–though I was, uhm, pretty much exclusively calling her ‘Mommy’ at this point–told me that she was leaving the company because of the board’s decision to let Lyndie go.” “Ah,” Paige nodded. “So when you say that Mommy is coming over tonight, that’s the Ms. Heller?” “Exactly.” “So…even after she left the company, you stayed in touch with her, I guess?” “Well…after she left the company, I left the company too. And then…” Paige’s eyes grew bigger, interested to see where I was going with this. This, I thought, might be the hardest part to explain. Maybe not? She had swallowed the fact that I wore diapers often pretty easily. Not even the revelation that I was stuck in chastity seemed to phase her all that much. But this? “...she asked me to move in with her,” I continued. “Oh,” she said. “Wow. So you two are, like…close?” “Very. And, uh, it wasn’t just an invite to go and live with her. It was an invitation to go and live with her as a, uh, baby.” Paige just stared at me, tilting her head a little. She was processing it. I felt the need to elaborate further. “I would be a baby full-time. 24/7. Nothing but diapers. I’d crawl around. Sleep in a crib. She’d change me. Bathe me. Dress me.” “And did you do that?” she asked. “Did you take her up on that?” “Uh huh.” To my relief, she was smirking a little. I continued, feeling like I needed to get it all out now–just so that she couldn’t say, later, that I never told her. “I left my apartment and I moved in with her. I had no job. I didn’t talk to friends or family. I just…became a baby. Like, almost literally, a baby. I used nothing but diapers, and she took care of my every need. I have a nursery. She calls a babysitter when she won’t be around. “How long ago was that?” Paige asked. “Oh…I still live there now.” She laughed a little. “So you’re still…” “That was like 9 or 10 months ago,” I shrugged. It was hard to remember where everything fit on the timeline anymore. “I’m, like, in the process of ‘growing up’ again, for whatever that’s worth. I got a job again. I mean–it’s with Mommy’s new company, but it’s still responsibility. I’m going out and seeing my friends again. I met this nice girl who used to deliver pizza to me when I had my own apartment…” “I’ve had some guys tell me some pretty crazy shit about themselves,” Paige said, sighing a little as she rocked backwards on her squishy diaper. “But that has to be the craziest.” “You, uh, haven’t dated any other big babies, I guess?” “In spirit, sure. But, like, literally a baby? No.” “Well, there you have it,” I shrugged. “I think that’s everything, more or less.” “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said. “I mean, I am. A little.” “Do you, uhm, need some time to process all that?” “I’ll be thinking about this for a while,” she laughed. “But I don’t think it’s going to change how I feel about it much.” I couldn’t help but jump to the worst case scenario. “You think it’s too crazy, right? I’m a freak? I’m this big stupid baby who wasted all your time?” “Woah, woah,” she said. “Clark, slow down. I mean, yeah, you’re a freak. And a big stupid baby. But you’ve never wasted any of my time. I love hanging out with you. And besides…did you forget that I’m sitting here in a messy diaper too? If you’re a freak, I’m a freak. It sounds like Ava’s a freak too–even if she’s taking a little break from it. And your friend Lyndie you were telling me about? A freak. And your Mommy? Freak. I dunno…I think that’s pretty cool.” I sat back down on the couch again, feeling the mushy load in my diaper squishing between the padding and my skin. I had gotten, mostly, used to the lingering stench wafting through her apartment–though once in a while I’d catch a stray whiff that’d remind me of how toxic the air had become. Mommy would almost certainly have something to say about that. “Is this the weirdest night of your life?” I asked. Paige laughed. “It’s certainly up there.” I decided to take that as a compliment. Somewhere else right now, Ava and Caleb were doing adult things. Sharing a bottle of wine, maybe? Holding hands on the couch? Maybe they were already in bed. Her panties were pulled down and Caleb had his cock in his hand, ready to slip it inside of her. Or maybe… Okay, let’s stop thinking about that. Instead, I thought about my mushy diaper and the thickness between my thighs. I thought about the comfort of my crib, and how nice it would be if I had a baby bottle full of milk in my hands right now.  “So what does the endgame look like for you?” Paige asked after a few minutes of silence. “Huh?” I thought I heard her, but I needed to collect myself a little after being pulled from the more infantile headspace I had been slipping into. “You said you were working on, like, ‘growing up.’ So…who do you want to be when you grow up?” “I dunno,” I shrugged. “I know that’s not a good answer but I feel like I just have to go through all the steps until I figure it all out. Get a job. Use a toilet. Get back to school. Get an apartment. Then…see what happens.” She laughed to herself. “I mean…I guess that’s not too different from any other person coming of age. Maybe the order’s a little different–toilet training usually comes before getting a job. Still, you ought to make some goals for yourself. Think big. Think ahead. Think about who you want to be whenever you get to where it is you want to go.” “This might be too deep of a conversation while I’m wearing a poopy diaper…” “What’s your dream job, Clark? Imagine yourself a few years from now. What would bring you joy?” “Uh, I guess…”  I tried to imagine myself in the future. What did that look like? Where was I? Who was I with? What did I do with my time? Actually, you know what I really want to do? I was thinking about writing. I’d never have the gall to call myself a ‘writer,’ but it was something I loved to do. Throughout college, I was writing all the time–mostly short stories about things like robots and men with swords. Most of it I kept to myself, and they were still sitting on some forgotten laptop–but others had been shared online, and had garnered enough interest that I felt motivated to write more.  That hobby had been one of the sacrifices I made when my internship had become…well, something else entirely. But thinking about it now, I realized how much I missed it. I wanted to see a blank document in front of me on a laptop screen, and I wanted to put my fingers on the keyboard and just see what came out. I even had a good idea what I might write about. Something a little more autobiographical than what I had written about in the past.  But was writing a career? Could someone just, one day, say: “You know what? I think I’m a writer now,” and suddenly be thrust into their dream job? No, probably not. But it was a goal. It was something I could work towards. It was a goal post that I could plant in my future and start directing myself towards. “I’m still figuring it out,” I said, realizing that I had left Paige hanging. I wanted to tell her about writing, but it felt like too big of a goal to just throw out there before I had even taken a baby step towards accomplishing it. “But…I’m really glad you asked me those questions. Sometimes it really helps to be reminded that I need to think about those sorts of things.” “Of course,” she said, rubbing my thigh. “What about you?” I asked. “Where do you want to be in the future?” Paige’s cheeks got a little more pink as her hand retracted to her side. She almost seemed to shrink a little–or at least she compacted herself into a smaller space. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” she asked. “I’m lousy with relationships. I’m still delivering pizzas for a living. I live in my cousin’s apartment. I’m a big bum. Hell, you could even argue that I’ve somehow regressed now that I’m obsessed with, uh, diapers.” “Messy diapers don’t exactly make us look like the most forward-thinking adults ever…” She smiled and shrugged it off before continuing. “Most days, I tell myself that I don’t care. Maybe I don’t, or maybe there’s a part of me that just hopes that someday something’ll click and I’ll have it all figured out. Probably shouldn’t hold my breath though.” “Well? What’s your, uh, dream job?” To borrow the question she asked me: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” “You know what I’d like to do? I’d like to make food instead of delivering it.” “Ooh, a chef?” “Yessir. I want to be one of those chefs you see on TV who act like rockstars and whose ass everyone wants to kiss.” “I love that idea. And what kind of food would you make?” “I bet you could guess.” “Pizza?” “Bingo.” A few minutes later, my phone vibrated. Instinctively, my heart began to pound in my chest. That would be Mommy. She was here. “Is that her?” Paige asked. I nodded. “Is she mean?” I laughed and shook my head. “Not at all. Not unless you want her to be mean.” “She’ll…change me? She won’t just laugh at me and ignore me?” “You’re in good hands. I promise.” We almost left the apartment to walk down to the street and guide Mommy up to Paige’s apartment, but all it took was Paige gently putting her hand on my swampy bottom as I began to stand to remind me that it probably wasn’t a good idea. Instead, Paige dictated the directions to her apartment and I texted them to Mommy.  Moments later, there was a knock at the door. It was the most sheepish I had ever seen Paige look before. She practically tiptoed to the front door–though it was also possible she was just trying hard not to disturb the contents of her diaper too much. She sighed, readied herself, and slowly opened the door. “Good evening,” Mommy said, that familiar warm smile on her face. “You must be Paige?” “Y-yes,” Paige answered. “Please come in.” It was surreal to hear Paige like this–nervous and a little timid. “I was told there were some babies here in need of a little help,” Mommy said as she stepped through the threshold, the door closing behind her. She had a quilted green duffle bag at her side–a diaper bag she had taken on many of the excursions she and I had been on before. “And, well, it certainly smells like there’s some helpless babies in here.” I quickly galloped across the living area so that I could give Mommy a hug. I almost stopped myself from being so obviously infantile in Mommy’s presence, but I saw no reason to hide this part of myself now. “Thank you for coming,” I said to her. She ruffled my hair with her hand and kissed the top of my head. “Of course. I could never leave a baby–babies–in need behind. Miss Paige? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Uh…likewise. Clark has told me a lot about you.” Most of that she had just learned tonight, but that didn’t have to be said. “Oh, uhm…” I felt like I had missed my queue to introduce the two. “Paige, this is, uhm, Ms. Heller. Gabrielle Heller. Uh…I just call her ‘Mommy.’ And, Mommy, this is Paige.” “I’d love to spend some more time talking to you,” Mommy said, waving her hand in front of her face. “But, maybe it’d be best if we took care of some dirty diapers first?” “Yes,” I said. “Please.” “We can do this, uhm, in my bedroom if you want,” Paige shrugged. “On my bed. Or, right here if you’d rather.” “Here is good,” Mommy said, motioning towards the open floor between the TV and the couch. “You’ve already polluted this room–I see no reason to stink up your bedroom too. The smell of a dirty diaper–and two of them at that–can linger for a while.” “So,” Paige said, glancing between the diaper bag and the vacant space on the floor. “Should we just…” “If you’d both be so kind as to lie down on the floor, we can get these stinky bottoms freshened up. Just follow Clarky’s lead–he’s a bit of an expert on getting his bottom changed, in case you didn’t already know.” Paige finally cracked, letting out a little giggle as her eyes found mine. “Laugh it up,” I said, easing myself onto the cool hardwood floor of Paige’s cousin’s apartment. “You’re getting your diaper changed too.” “Credit where credit is due,” Mommy said, putting the diaper bag on the couch and opening it up. “I imagined that when I came through the door, I’d find the both of you wearing only diapers. And yet you both seem to remain fully clothed.” “Honestly, I’ve been afraid to,” Paige said. “I’m not sure I’d like what I saw.” “Ah, see?” Mommy said, pulling two fresh diapers from the bag. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll deal with whatever mess you’ve made so that you don’t have to.” Paige followed my example, easing herself down to the floor horizontally. I watched her face wince a little as her squishy bottom made contact with the floor. “Paige?” Mommy asked. “Would you like to be first?” “Uhm…” She considered this for a moment or two. “No. I think you should change Clark first. I-if it’s okay that I watch…” “Of course,” Mommy said. “Clarky? I assume you have no objection to that?” I sighed and shook my head. I felt that classic feeling of humiliation wash over me. How about that–Paige’s first time seeing me without pants on and I was getting my diaper changed? She’d see the pull-up. The chastity. My mess. Well…it’d be interesting to see if she stuck around in my life after this. Right now, Ava’s on her back too. She’s moaning as an actual man pleasures her. Meanwhile, Mommy was pulling my pants down my legs, revealing my pull-ups. I couldn’t see what they looked like from my vantage point, but I could see Paige’s face. I watched as she smiled and blushed at the sight. In an almost-whisper, she said: “They’re so…brown.” Well, they didn’t start brown. “I’m not going to risk getting any of your icky mess on this beautiful floor,” Mommy said to me, her hand rubbing the front of my pull-up. “So I won’t be pulling these down like they were big-boy pants. But I do believe I can do this…” She grabbed the side of the pull-up with both hands and tore, easily ripping through the thin cloth strips that held the front and back together. She then did the same on the other side. Now, the pull-up was really no different than an unfastened diaper. With just a tug, she pulled the front of the diaper down between my legs, exposing everything. There was the mess I had made. There was my useless cock, trapped in a metal cage. And there was Paige, giggling at the whole scene. “You’d think that Clark would be used to having his little messes exposed to people,” Mommy said. “It’s certainly happened enough. And yet, every single time, he’s still got that nervous little look on his face. It’s really the cutest thing, isn’t it?” Paige nodded and smiled. “Yeah.” I quickly decided that I couldn’t watch Paige’s face while Mommy wiped me clean. Her little smirks and giggles were too much for me, and I just couldn’t fathom the kind of judging she was doing as the show went on. I stared up at the ceiling instead. “So, how did it come to be that both of you managed to fill your diapers? Was it some sort of dare?” “A pact,” Paige said. “A pinky promise, actually. If, uhm, one of us went, the other would have to.” “Ah,” Mommy said. “And how soon after that did Clark go and make this mess.” “Actually, he, uh, kept his pull-up pretty clean up to that point,” Paige said. “And then I’m the one who went first. He probably only used his diaper because I did.” That was mostly true, though if Paige hadn’t pushed a load into the back of her diaper, I probably would’ve befouled my pull-up sooner or later anyway. Mommy laughed. “Is my baby a bad influence on you?” “No,” Paige said. “If anything, he’s been a pretty good influence.” “So is it safe to assume the ‘date’ portion of this evening went well then?” I swallowed hard, nervous to hear how Paige would answer that. “I had a good time tonight…” she said. There was some hesitancy in her voice. And if I could hear it, I was sure Mommy could too. “But?” “Well…maybe it wasn’t a date, per se,” Paige shrugged.  I sighed. Maybe, in another universe, it could’ve been a date. I supposed I put a damper on any romantic possibilities when I continued to be so hung up on Ava.  “I see,” Mommy said, dragging another damp wipe across my skin. I was sure she had more questions about the situation, but she wasn’t going to put Paige on the spot like that. Instead, she’d probably wait until later, when it was just her and I, to ask them. The dirty diaper and the copious number of wipes needed to clean off my skin were hauled away. I watched her bundle the diaper nice and tight and set it aside. “I use a good amount of baby powder when I change Clark,” Mommy said. “Can never be too careful when it comes to rashes. Miss Paige, should I use powder when I get to your bottom?” “Uhm…do whatever you do to Clark,” she said. “I mean…short of chastity, of course.” Mommy laughed and nodded. “Noted.” The expert that Mommy was, a new diaper was unfurled, flattened, and slid under me in what felt like a few seconds. She dusted everything with a thick layer of powder before the front of the diaper was pulled up through my legs. It was only at this point that I realized I was getting a diaper and not another pull-up. Had I failed to show her that I was ready for pull-ups? Or did she only have diapers in the bag? “All done. Be a good boy and slide back into your pants again for me, Baby. I’m going to take care of Miss Paige now.” “Y-yes, Mommy.” Paige giggled at the normalcy of our interactions, though abruptly stopped when she felt Mommy’s hands on her pants. “I’m going to take these off of you, Miss Paige. Is that okay?” “Yes,” she said. “Whatever you have to do.” “Clark,” Mommy said to me as she pulled Paige’s tight pants down her legs. “You didn’t tell me your new friend was also in diapers.” “Well,” Paige interjected. “Once again, I’d say Clark has been a good influence on me.” Mommy smiled at this, though she didn’t have anything to say in response. Instead, after Paige’s pants were pulled off and cast aside, Mommy positioned herself between Paige’s legs and went in for a closer inspection of her diaper. By this time, I was sitting up and reaching for my pants. I told myself I was going to be respectful and try not to watch Paige getting her diaper changed–but I just couldn’t help myself. I turned my head, if only to see what Paige’s filthy diaper looked like, now that it was free of the pants that had imprisoned it all night. I saw the same thing Mommy did, it seemed. Brown. It wasn’t just the distorted yellowish-brown color of the padding between her legs–it was the color of the filth that had managed to creep out from the diaper’s leg bands and down her thighs. “Oh my,” Mommy said. “My dear, I’m afraid you had a little bit of a blowout.” “A…blowout?” “Some of the contents of your diaper seemed to have escaped.” Mommy reached over and grabbed Paige’s pants again, looking inside of them. Judging by the frown on her face, she didn’t love what she saw. “Miss Paige, these pants are going to need a very thorough washing.” “Ugh.” “I can help with that, of course.” “No, no,” Paige said. “I, uh, can’t ask you to…wash my pants for me.” “Nonsense,” Mommy said. “I do this all the time. Well, no, I don’t. But I have a very good maid, Marnie, who takes care of things like this for me. I’ve seen her rescue countless numbers of Clark’s onesies that I probably would’ve just thrown out. I’ll have her work her magic on these and then I’ll have Clark return them to you.” “Well…” Paige laughed and nodded. “If the stain is that bad, I probably would just throw them out. If you think they can be saved, maybe I will let you take them home with you.” “Good call. Now then, let’s see what’s going on inside this diaper.” My eyes lingered on Paige a moment longer–long enough so that I could see Paige was looking right back at me. Did she want me to watch, or was she hoping that I would look away? I decided to just guess, opting to give her a little extra privacy. I stood up and waddled away, stepping into my pants again as I did. I was in the room still, but I busied myself with looking around the apartment–basically looking at anything that wasn’t her. My pants didn’t fit as well with the diaper on as they did with the pull-up. To be expected, I supposed, though it felt a little like a demotion. Behind me, I could hear the tapes being pulled from Paige’s diaper. I stared at a photo of who I presumed to be Paige’s cousin, holding a bass guitar with an enormous smile on her face. Wait, was that…Dave Grohl? Jeez. I almost felt honored, myself, to just be in the room of the cousin of someone who had met him. “You squirm too much,” Mommy said to Paige. “Lie still, little girl. It’ll make this a lot easier.” I couldn’t see the expression on Paige’s face, but I could certainly hear her reaction, a tiny “Buh…” She sounded embarrassed, but she also sounded hungry for more. The package of wipes was being opened now, and moments later, I could hear Paige letting out a little whimper. Yeah, the feeling of a cool wet wipe on your skin will do that to you. Except, Paige’s little moans and whimpers persisted. I was tempted to look back and see for myself, but I kept my eyes diverted–it felt like the right thing to do. It sounded like Paige was getting some thrills from the feeling of Mommy’s hand wiping her private areas clean. “See?” Mommy cooed to her. “Isn’t this much better when you aren’t a little wiggle-worm?” “This is, uhm, good…” Paige said softly. A moment later, she added: “You do this for Clark everyday?” “Every diaper,” Mommy said. “Yeah, okay,” Paige said. “That makes sense. If I got treated like this all the time, I’d want to be a big baby forever too.” I felt my cheeks blushing while Mommy laughed to herself. This was probably the best case scenario, all things considered. Paige was not only okay with my lifestyle, but she might even be coveting it. “Have you ever slept in a nursery before?” Mommy asked. I could hear her balling up the old diaper now, before grabbing the fresh one to unfold it between Paige’s legs. “Uh, not recently,” Paige chuckled. “Would you like to?” My eyes widened. “R-really?” “Well, I should probably get that big baby home soon,” Mommy said, likely pointing at me. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.” “Oh, gosh,” Paige said. “I…dunno. Wouldn’t that be weird? And, I mean, I have work tomorrow and…” “I’ll get you to wherever you need to go,” Mommy said. “And it doesn’t have to be weird. But I see a little baby girl in front of me, and I can’t bring myself to leave her behind tonight. I’d love it if you joined us.” The diaper’s tapes were being pulled open now, and the fresh padding was being secured around Paige’s bottom. I felt like I could look now, so I spun around. What I saw was Paige looking up at Mommy with a big smile on her face. “Y-yes, please,” she said. “I’d love that.”

About an hour ago, I changed out of a very wet BabyDoll and into a clean one, which I have already wet in. Because of the stay-dry, wetproof liner, I did not feel the wet form my last diaper or from this diaper on my chastity area

Brixton (back to the 80's)

About 5:30 this morning - and it was an absolute disaster.  I was still in bed hoping to get at least 2 more hours sleep, but I felt the need to go... and so I did.   Unfortunately, it wasn't solid.  And when I rolled over to my back.... well, let's just say there was a major warp core breach.  Not only did it get on the bed pad, it was all over the back of my shirt, and even got on the sheets and even my dragon plushie got some.  😭 So much for sleep.  First thing was containment -- off to the bathroom and a long shower to get cleaned up.   I'm now washing the bed linens.  As for my plushie, fortunately it wasn't bad - just a bit on the surface.  Spray down with some peroxide and wipe away.   One good thing about Plushlife is that they design their plushies to be washed.  So worst case, I unstuff him and he goes in the washer.  I need to do that with my snow leopard.

My mom wore Kotex belted maxi pads.  They came in a pretty big purple box--about the size of three loaves of bread.  The pads  were pretty thick and hard.  I saw the   box often outside the bathroom vanity against a wall.  Sometimes she wore two at a time under her dress.   Oh, sorry I see this topic is about incontinence There wasn't much to choose from, I imagine most used menstrual pads.  I searched here and did find some references to incontinence.  For more ads http://www.mum.org/paddir.htm