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Scene #26 “Did you have fun,” Mary asked me when I got home from my first drive in almost two months. Whoever thinks hybrids aren’t fun to drive obviously hasn’t driven one. With not that much traffic on the interstate and a perfectly sunny day, it was a perfect little drive. Just forty-five minutes down the highway and back. “Mhmm,” I said, though I didn’t really. Yes, the drive was good, but the whole time I just kept thinking how tired I am of all of this. I miss normal. I know there’s no going back to the ways things were for a while, but some of the really basic stuff, I miss. Like not wearing something on my face. Sitting down at a restaurant. All that stuff, and not even that stuff so much as not having to worry about all of that. Just being able to go out carefree. So the drive was fun, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that, and it had me not exactly upset but maybe on the cusp of it. “How much fun?” Crap. What did I do? “Not too much,” I asked warily. “What’s your speed limit on the highway?” “Seventy-five,” I said but sort of asked in that way you do when you’re in trouble. Mary took out her phone. “Remember that app I installed on your phone the last time you got a ticket?” Well, obviously not or I would’ve kept it under seventy-five. For the record, I’ve gotten three tickets in my entire driving life. Mary, being so conscientious that she makes Tom Hanks look like a jerk, has gotten zero, so she put one of those apps for teen drivers on my phone. It was over a year ago. Knowing she was about to tell me just how fast I was going, I reached for the waistband of my shorts. Why wait? “Ah ah, little girl. I’ll take those down when I’m ready.” “Urgh! I’m not a little girl!” “Don’t get grumpy with me. I’m not the one who was driving ninety-three miles per hour.” Okay, so she had a point; I didn’t even realize I was going that fast. “And I hate to break the news to you, kiddo, but taking down your own pants for your spanking isn’t as grown up as you think.” Well, that was just a low blow. She crooked a finger at me, and I followed her to the living room. She sat down on the couch, and I went and stood in front of her like always. “I don’t even know what to say,” she started, which is one of those weird things people say right before they say a whole lot. “I could not possibly care less about you getting a ticket, Daphne Ann. But you getting hurt? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” “I’m sorry.” “I know,” she said as she nodded. Mary never raises her voice to me. “I know, and you …” She shook her head. “It scared me. Do you understand? It would scare me if you were driving that fast with me in the car, and then I get an alert on my phone, and I can’t even text you to tell you to knock it off because we don’t text and drive. You scared me.” Some may say I have an eager to please personality, and the reverse of that is when I disappoint someone whose opinion matters to me, I really do take it to heart. Mary being upset with me upsets me, and her being scared or sad because of me makes me very unhappy with myself. Which is to say she got me all teary and sniffling just from that short lecture. “Yes (Sniff!). I’m sorry,” I said again. “I didn’t mean to.” “I don’t know what you were thinking, but it’s just not acceptable. The thought of you … getting hurt … We’ve gone to great lengths for the past two months to keep you safe, and …” Maybe I’m a little emotionally fragile at the moment. I don’t know if Mary thought I was going to just let that comment pass, but nope. I was fully aware of everything Mary had done for me, and I don’t know if she meant to really connect that to me breaking my speed limit, but she already had me upset with myself and feeling lousy about making her feel lousy, so not really a surprise that drawing the line between A and B tipped me from feeling upset to feeling ashamed. Which is when I went from sniffling to crying in earnest, which I guess she wasn’t expecting and neither was I. It stopped her midsentence. “Hey,” Mary said as she stood up and put her arms around me and pulled me back down to the couch with her. “Hey. Shhh. Don’t cry yet. Calm down.” She was rubbing my back and stroking my hair. “I’m (bawling) and (sobbing) and I didn’t (inaudible) and please (babbling),” I said, if that counts as saying. “Calm down. Shhh. You’re okay.” “My um fel hing.” And you don’t speak that language, but Mary does, and she said, “I know, Daffy. I know.” I started to calm down; I didn’t stop losing tears, but I did stop blubbering. “You’re such a silly goose. You’re not supposed to cry like that until halfway through your spanking.” I would’ve apologized for that, too, but instead I just nodded and felt like my sinuses had ballooned up in the past two minutes. Mary was still patting my back as I sat on her lap with my head on her shoulder. I was ready to get my punishment over with, and I think I needed to finish crying, too. “Can I have my spanking now,” I asked. “Yeah, sweetie, we can do that.” I started to stand up, and she stopped me, saying, “No no, baby. Just lay back.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, and she guided me with her hands so I was sitting on her lap with my feet out in front of me. “Lay back.” I hate hate hate the diaper position. I hate it. I don’t know if people are right that it hurts more, but I do know that all your goodies are on full display and that you have to look at the person spanking you. It’s just more humbling to have to watch it happen. Never, though, had I ever been spanked in the diaper position while across her lap. On the bed, the floor, a table, a desk, and once on a dais, but never on her lap. I was laid out flat, and it felt pretty awkward. “Lift,” Mary said, and I lifted my hips and she pulled my shorts to my ankles before turning to look down at me. “If you ever hurt yourself, it will break my heart. Understand?” “Yes,” I meeped. “Be a good little girl and hold still for your spanking.” She lifted my legs and put her left arm across the back of my knees, and there I was butt out and flat on my back. Talk about defenseless, not that I’d ever dream of resisting. From behind a throw pillow, Mary produced the paddle and put it to work. It was awkward; there wasn’t enough room to swing it right, but she adjusted and put a lot of wallop into it. I gritted my teeth and let the tears flow. She didn’t spare my thighs, either. I was going to have bruises for a few days. She stopped, and I opened my eyes, and we looked at each other for a moment. She glanced from me to my butt and back, shook her head gently, and started paddling again, slow and hard, with her eyes locked on mine. It took a lot of effort to hold still and not roll off her lap. I wanted to close my eyes again, but the way she was looking right at me, I couldn’t. “You’re going to drive safe, little girl (WHAP!). And you’re never (WHAP!) going (WHAP!) to (WHAP!) scare me (WHAP!) like that (WHAP!) again (WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP!)!” I promised both those things and let myself keep sobbing once she’d set the paddle down and proceeded to rub and knead what I’m guessing was a dark red pair of cheeks. She cooed at me and told me it was all over and I did a very good job holding still, which I did. I’m very obedient (stop laughing!). “You’re my good little girl again.” “I’m sorry.” “I know you are, and you’re all forgiven.” That’s what I needed to hear, and it spread a new warmth in my tummy. My tears dried up, and I felt a big sinus headache coming on. “Can I sit up,” I asked as she kept her arm under my knees and kept playing with my butt, which was going from hot to clammy and would soon have that awful pins-and-needles feeling. I’d be feeling uncomfortable for the rest of the day, at least. “One more thing.” She reached back under that throw pillow and produced a diaper. Not really surprised, I let my head fall back to the couch and put an arm over my eyes, feeling that pressure in my forehead and behind my eyes. She tilted me back, and I listened to the crinkling as she spread the diaper out. She lowered me back down, parted my legs, and taped the diaper on, all with me still over her lap. I got two solid, thwumping pats to my poor backside, and she helped me up. “You’re a mess,” she said. “Let’s go wash your face.” “Not yet,” I said. I got up off her lap, spun around so my legs were where my head was, turned so I was facing Mary, and put my head in her lap, not quite burying my face in her tee shirt. She chuckled and then I guess realized I wasn’t trying to be cute. She started stroking my hair again. “What’s the matter, honey?” “I want this to be over.” “I know, Daffy.” “I miss it.” “What’s that?” “Our … it’s like our world … I wanna do normal stuff again and not hafta worry and do things differently. I just wanna … you know.” Of course she did. She’s living this right alongside me. “I know. Me, too.” She let me lay like that for another minute or two, playing with my hair, and then she said, “But we’re not going to be upset about things we can’t change. I got a surprise for you. C’mon.” I sat up, and she led me upstairs. “Can I put something on,” I asked as I sat down on the bed with my legs under me, feeling the pain of my paddling and wishing I could look at my butt. It’ a spanko thing, wanting to see how red your butt is after a spanking and if there were any marks. “You can put on what I got you, sweetie,” Mary answered me as she went into the closet and came out with a gift wrapped box. “I was going to wait a little bit, but I think you could use this now, even if you were naughty.” I smiled at how sweet my wife is. “I wasn’t naughty. I was careless. There’s a difference.” “How is it you can go from sobbing at a lecture, to blubbering over my knee to almost falling asleep in my lap to being a smartass in less than a half hour?” “I dunno, but aren’t you glad I can?” “Yes. Now, open that box.” I carefully tore through the tape because I believe in saving wrapping paper, plus there’s a certain decorum a dignified lady such as myself should maintain at all times. And maybe I was purposefully torturing Mary by going to slow, which I know drives her nuts. I can make Christmas morning last well into the afternoon. And then I set the lid to the side. And then I parted the tissue paper ever so gently. And then I saw new pajamas. Blue with yellow ducklings on them. Okay, so that was a little unexpected, but considering my current attire, I can’t say it was entirely out of left field. She likes me in cute things, and that’s alright with me. Wearing a pair of too cute pajamas, that were really more appropriate for Jane than me, was a small price to pay to make Mary happy. “Thank you. They look so … cozy. I’ll wear it to be tonight.” “No, no, no, silly.” She reached around me and pulled the top out. And then I saw: it wasn’t a pajama top, because pajama tops don’t button at the crotch. “It’s a onesie!” “Yeah it is,” was my clever response. “But you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, unless I decide you’re in trouble.” “I don’t?” “No. It’s just something I saw and thought you’d look cute in. You can wear it just because, or we can keep it as a punishment outfit.” “Well, which one would you like?” “I wanna see you wear it, and I’ll get to eventually, but I think it’s up to you. Will you try it on for me at least?” I couldn’t say no. That would just be rude, for any gift. I remember when I was maybe seven and my grandmother got me a swim suit for Christmas, and we lived in Minnesota at the time, and I still had to try it on for her. She assured me I’d appreciate it come summer. “Um, okay.” Mary reached out and tapped the end of my nose. “Good girl.” “You’re being weird.” “I can’t help it. I’m in love with my wife. C’mon.” She took my hand and led me to our bathroom when she turned on the tap and I took off my shirt. “Daphne! I’m surprised at you.” “I didn’t mean to!” That was just reflex, because I didn’t know what I’d done to surprise her. “You didn’t mean to put on a bra this morning?” “Well, I haven’t left the house in two months. I thought I’d just go cray and dress up today,” I said as I kicked my faded tee toward the hamper. She helped me out of out it and tossed it toward the hamper, wet a washcloth with cool water, and wiped the tear streaks from my face. She held out the washcloth in her hand and ordered, “Honk.” I leaned in and she held the cloth to my nose and I honked. Pretty hard to. “You’re gonna hurt your ears doing that. How are your allergies?” “Crummy.” “You taking your medicine?” “Every day.” Being home so much, I was taking advantage and spending my time outside. On the positive side, I was pleasantly tan when normally I’d just be pink this time of year. But I’m allergic to Spring. And then I got a kiss on my forehead, which made me all blushy and smiley. “See!” I protested. “You’re being all weird.” “Since when (kiss) is it weird (kiss) for me to not be able to keep my hands off you?” Well, that’s pretty normal, but it was the way she was looking at me ever since she handed me that box. She was so excited to see me in that ridiculous onesie. She’d been hinting at wanting to to up the ante on the ageplay stuff, and she was doing it exactly the way she said she would after our little talk: slowly and with my permission. If I didn’t like the thing – well, I didn’t like the thing, but if I hated the thing, I could just say so and it would end up with all the other things I hate that get reserved for punishments. No biggie. “Arms up.” I put my arms up, and she slipped it over my head and knelt down in front of me. “Open your legs for me.” I did, and she tugged the flappy part through, and I counted one, two, three, four clicks as she buttoned it in place. She stood back up, brushed my hair out of my face and looked at me with her hands on my shoulders, smiling like when I drew on the kitchen wall. “You wanna see?” I turned to look into the mirror Mary behind me. Well, crap. I huffed and made my not impressed face. “Dammit,” I said under my breath. “What’s wrong?” “I’m adorable. Again.” Fucking of course I am. “Awww,” she laughed, “you always are.” She put her chin on my shoulder and one arm around me and tickled my belly with her finger tips. Which made me go “He he,” which only exacerbated the adorability. “Stop it,” I whined. “So, is that a punishment outfit or not,” she asked me. Well, it made her so happy. “Not,” I pouted. Like I said, eager to please. “You really don’t have to.” “No, it is cute. And comfy.” “And it hides your diaper, which you’re wearing for a whole day.” “Why?” “Because you drove ninety-three miles per hour.” Oh. So there were now three kinds of diapers: just because, reminders to behave, and a punishment diaper. “But, the same one?” “Of course not, silly. I’ll change you when you need it.” “Well, what about if I have to, ya know?” “Then you can take it off first.” “But, what if … I mean … But I don’t wanna.” “I know, but that’s why it’s a punishment.” “You’re sending a lot of mixed signals here with your punishment and presents and Tom Hanks driving and forehead kisses,” I pouted. I think Mary has just learned not to ask what I mean when I start saying non sequiturs that only make sense if you heard what I’ve been saying in my head. “If you’re gonna be pouty, I’m gonna hafta to give you another present, and it’s only for punishment.” “I’ll be good.” “Uhuh.” I followed her back out of the bathroom, and she went straight for the closet, leaving me wondering what was in store for me next. She produced a little white box, walked over to my nightstand, and removed a… “Nooo! I’ll be good. I promise!” “Daffy,” she admonished me. “Consider this a new reminder to watch that pretty little mouth of yours.” She left it there next to the paddle that adorns my nightstand, just sitting there. A giant pacifier. “Where did you even find this stuff anyway?” “The internet. I just saw it and thought there’s a little tool that might save her butt from swats. So you mind your tongue and it will stay a reminder.” “Can we at least put in the drawer?” “Nope.” “But …” Dammit it all to crap! I can’t even say it. I just stamped my foot instead. “See? It’s helping you already. Now c’mon.” “Where are we going now?” “The kitchen. Let’s make lunch together.” “Okay.” And then I said something I only half meant. “Thank you for my presents.” Kinda like that swimsuit. I’d appreciate it eventually. “You’re very welcome.” I got a step past her when she reached out and gave me a hard, underhand spank, producing a loud pop and making me jump and hold my butt. I gave her an especially dirty look. “You,” is all she said. “Me what?” “You and your padded butt and little red thighs peeking out of your ducky onesie and that face you make when you’re all pouty and blushing.” “What about it?” “Too cute.” I knew she was going to say that. “How about,” she said as she put an arm around my shoulder and kissed me on the nose, “we make lunch and eat outside. We haven’t had a picnic in forever.” “Okay.”

Chapter 18: Confrontation “What did you think of your first sleepover?” Samantha asked as I took a seat next to her on the bus. “I think I’m still in need of some sleep,” I replied, trying to stifle a yawn. I didn’t succeed, causing Desi and Samantha both to take a turn yawning as well. “Stop, that’s contagious,” Samantha said. “Sorry. Can’t help it. I’m so tired.” “I thought you’d gotten a decent amount of sleep Saturday night,” Samantha said. “I slept,” I lied, having not gotten any sleep that night, “but I woke up a lot because I wasn’t used to being on the floor in a sleeping bag.” I thought Samantha looked at me a little nervously after that remark. Was she concerned I’d seen her go up to Tommy’s room? “I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” Desi said. “After all, it was the first time you’d spent the night away from home. I bet you’ll sleep like a baby next time.” I hope not. My experience sleeping like a baby - wet pull-up and bed and all – wasn’t exactly pleasant last night. “Yeah,” Samantha added. “We should definitely start planning for another sleepover.” I wasn’t sure of the best way to respond to that. With Mom now partly aware of my bladder issues, I wasn’t certain she’d approve of a sleepover, or, if she did approve, what she might say to Samantha’s mom. And, if Mom approve, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to another sleepover anyway. Even if I could manage my bladder problems and keep my friends from discovering that issue, I realized that I hadn’t enjoyed the sleepover nearly as much as I had expected to. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit that to them. “Yeah,” I replied. “But it might be awhile. Mom wasn’t happy with how tired I was after it.” Thankfully, they let the topic of another sleepover drop, and we all drifted off into a tired Monday-morning silence on the remainder of the ride to school. The bus made good time today. We arrived at school with twenty minutes to spare before our first class began. I knew it was almost certainly my imagination, but the nighttime pull-up I had on felt so much more noticeable than the ones I had been taking from my sister. This was the first time I’d had it on beneath my jeans. I hadn’t thought that the outline of the pull-up was visible under my clothes when I had checked in the mirror this morning, but I couldn’t help but feel anxious as I made my way to the bathroom. I didn’t consider mom’s threat to keep me in pull-ups to be an idle one. If she were to find out that I had wet one of them, there was no doubt in my mind that she would re-set the seven-day clock for how long I had to keep them dry before I could go back to wearing panties. Before I’d left for school, mom had told me she’d count the dry pull-ups that I brought back, so there wasn’t any way I could wet any of them without her finding out. I have no idea what has been going wrong with my body, but until I could figure that out, the odds of going a week without wetting myself simply wasn’t possible. Wearing Emilia’s pull-ups instead of the nighttime ones was even a riskier proposition than before. First, I now must deal with the fact that I knew those pull-ups weren’t going to work one hundred percent of the time. That made sense, since even though I could still fit in my sister’s pull-ups they were really made for toddlers, not teenagers. The other problem was that was that Mom discovering me using Emilia’s pull-ups now would be so much worse than before, because she would surely see the use of my sister’s pull-ups as an attempt to circumvent her rules. But I had made up my mind. The chance to get mom off my back about the accidents was worth the risk of mom finding out about me using Emilia’s pull-ups. I used a bathroom break before the start of our AP Literature class to swap from my sister’s pull-ups to the nighttime ones. I grabbed a pair of panties from my backpack to wear over the pull-up for good measure. “Morning,” I said to Lisa as we passed her on the way to the front of the classroom. Lisa returned the greeting with a smile, while Samantha shot me a look of annoyance. Why did she care if I was being friendly with Lisa? --- After an accident in fourth period, I was relieved that I had chosen to wear my sister’s pull-ups. I’d gotten much quicker with changing myself, so I didn’t have to worry about my friends wondering why I was taking so long each time in the bathroom. I arrived in the cafeteria as Desi and Samantha had finished loading up their trays. As we made our way to our normal spot by the windows in the back of the cafeteria, I saw that it was already taken. “Why couldn’t you have saved a spot for us?” Samantha complained to me. “I’m sorry. I had to make a quick run to the bathroom. Besides, there are like a million other spots we can sit at,” I said. That wasn’t completely true. While there were some open tables, the majority of them had been taken already. I spotted Lisa seated by herself at a table for four. “We could grab a spot at Lisa’s table,” I said. “No way. Not with that weirdo,” Samantha replied. I wanted to hit Samantha with a thesaurus, partly because she was being mean to Lisa and partly because she at least needs think of more creative insults. “Just stop,” I said. “What’s your problem? She’s on the Fortnite team with me.” “Geez, I just don’t want to listen to her blabber about video games.” I knew Samantha didn’t share my liking for video games, but that comment still stung deeply. And besides, when had we ever heard Lisa blabber about anything? “Fine. I’ll go sit with Lisa, and you could find another table where you can prattle on about whatever you like.” I marched off indignantly, leaving Desi and Samantha to themselves. “Sarah. Wait. I’m sorry.” Samantha called after me. I ignored Samantha and sat down in a chair opposite Lisa, who was so absorbed with something on her phone that she didn’t even notice me take a seat at her table. I knocked quietly on the table to get her attention. Lisa jerked her head up and nearly fell backwards out of her seat. “How’s your day been?” I asked once Lisa had regained her balance. “Fine.” “It was fun playing with you last night. Sorry, I only had time for one game.” “It’s OK. We... we could play again tonight?” Lisa asked hesitantly. “Of course, as long as you don’t think I’m holding you back too much.” Our conversation was interrupted by Desi and Samantha walking up to the table. Samantha was biting her lip. I’d known her long enough to know that was her tell for trying to not look like she was unhappy. I guessed that Desi had told Samantha that she needed to come join us or she’d be left to eat by herself. “Hi Lisa, could we join you guys as well?” Desi asked. Lisa nodded. The conversations at the table diverged, with Lisa and I talking about what new changes might be coming in the next update to Fortnite and Samantha and Desi talking about a new movie they wanted to go see. By the time lunch was over, I noticed that Samantha hadn’t said a single word to Lisa the entire time. Why does she have to be so petty sometimes? --- I hated cheerleading. Even if it weren’t for the craziness of trying to avoid wetting myself and keeping anyone from seeing my pull-ups, I don’t think I would enjoy it. There was one person responsible for that – Claire. Not a single practice had gone by last week where she hadn’t tried to sabotage me in one way or another. She was clever as well, never doing anything overt or that couldn’t be dismissed as an accident with an insincere apology. She wanted my spot on the team and seemed determined to find a way to get it. The easiest solution would be for me to quit. I could avoid having to deal with Claire anymore. But Mom would go ballistic. I couldn’t say how Mom might choose to punish me for leaving them time, but it would for sure be bad, even though I had managed to get myself involved in another extracurricular activity with the Fortnite team. That meant my choice was either to deal with an angry Mom or an angry Claire. As much of a bitch as Claire was, she didn’t have anything on an angry mother. Coach Addison had caught on to how Claire and I had been feuding. She was no longer pairing Claire and I together for drills during practice. That didn’t deter Claire from trying to get under my skin, but it did give her fewer options for doing so. The locker room was nearly empty after cheerleading practice as I finished getting showered and dressed into panties, jeans, and a hoodie. I was ready to swing by a bathroom in the hallway to change into a pair of the nighttime pull-ups before mom picked me up. As I closed my locker and turned around to grab my backpack off of where I had set it on the bench, I noticed that it was no longer there. “Missing something?” Claire asked from the other end of the room, my backpack dangling from her hand. This was so not good. I did my best not to look too nervous, but my pull-ups were at the bottom of the backpack. “Hey! Give that back!” Claire unzipped the backpack instead. She wouldn’t see the pull-ups immediately. I had made sure to hide those at the very bottom. My secret was safe so long as Claire didn’t start taking stuff out of it. But that was exactly what she intended to do. “Catch,” Claire shouted, as she pulled a book from my backpack and tossed it underhanded at me. I managed to catch the book before it hit my face. I set it down on the locker room bench as Claire sprinted off toward the other end of the locker room with my still very full backpack. I ran around the edge of the locker room, trying to cut her off. Hopefully, she wasn’t planning on running out into the hallway. I could hear footsteps running from around the corner, and as I turned around the corner, Claire and I ran smack into each other and then onto the floor. After a brief tussle, I at last managed to tug the backpack from Claire’s arms. It came loose and spun across the floor, but besides from a couple of pencils, nothing came out of it. As we scrambled to our feet, I gave Claire a firm shove against the wall and she let out a cry of pain. We both turned to see Coach Addison come into view. She didn’t look happy with us. “Sarah. Claire. In my office. Now,” coach said. I grabbed the backpack – no way was I letting it out of my sight – and followed Claire into Coach Addison’s office. As soon as the door shut, Claire and I began talking at the same time. “She shoved me.” “Only because she took my backpack.” “Stop,” Addison said. “But...” Claire and I said in unison. “Not another word from either of you two,” Addison said. “I’m not interested in who started what, and I’m tired of dealing with your constant bickering. If either of you cause any more trouble, you were off the team. Are you clear about what I said?” We both nodded. I wanted desperately to argue with the coach. This was so unfair, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. Claire gave me a smirk as I left the locker-room. She didn’t seem upset at all with Addison’s threat. That was not a good sign.

Having suffered humiliation in the car Scott is taken to the nearest supermarket. His humiliating situation is getting worse quickly and he feels out of control of the situation. Things get even worse when his mother proposes an unusual solution to their problems. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to TWENTY-EIGHT EXCLUSIVE stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- Scott felt awful. He dared to glance at his younger brother but saw Elliot getting as close to the window as possible with a look of disgust on his face. Scott desperately wanted to get out of the messy clothes but it was impossible in such cramped quarters. He couldn’t even create separation from Elliot. “Ugh, this is disgusting.” Elliot said after a few minutes, “Why would you do this?” “I didn’t mean to!” Scott replied loudly. “Don’t shout at your brother.” Deborah said quickly, “He’s right. This is disgusting and you have no one to blame but yourself. You’re like a little baby.” “Am not!” Scott yelled. Even as he said it he knew he sounded like a toddler having a tantrum. The car twisted through some streets and Scott kept his eyes down on his knees. The smell was oppressive and everyone wanted to escape it as soon as possible. Scott felt the sticky waste coating his rear end and every movement increased it’s surface area, he couldn’t believe this wasn’t some kind of horrible nightmare. Eventually the car pulled up to the supermarket. The car found the nearest spot but before anyone could get out Deborah turned around and told everyone to wait in the car whilst she bought some new clothes for her supposedly adult son. She was just grabbing her bag when Scott realised they didn’t need to do this at all. “Erm, Mum?” Scott was hesitant to speak up, “We’ve got lots of spare clothes in the car.” “I know.” Deborah replied shortly, “Now be quiet and wait for me to come back.” “Can I step out at least?” Elliot asked desperately. He had his shirt pulled up to cover his mouth and nose. “Sure, just stay in range of the car.” Deborah said. Scott looked around sadly as all the doors opened and everyone stepped out. Even baby Huw abandoned the car when he was lifted out by Scott’s stepdad. Scott was by himself and honestly felt a little better because of it, at least he was now being judged from afar rather than up close. He saw his younger brother eagerly gulping the fresh air and felt his already red face blush even deeper. For five excruciating minutes Scott was left alone in the car. The smell was indescribable and only getting worse, Scott tried to be as still as a statue to avoid making his situation worse but he felt absolutely miserable. When he saw his mum coming back he hardly felt any better though he saw her holding a couple of shopping bags which gave him hope of getting out of these soiled clothes. “Come with me.” Deborah ordered when she reached the car. She opened the door and stood aside for Scott to get out. “Go out there?” Scott asked with worry, “But there’s lots of people around and I’m…” “You can either come with me or we can get you changed on the floor out here.” Deborah’s choice was stark. Scott was horrified at both options and neither seemed in any way agreeable. This was his worst nightmare come to life and he now had to pick his poison, it seemed like both options would be embarrassing. “Why can’t I change in the car?” Scott whined desperately. He willed the tears forming in his eyes to go away. “You have to be joking.” Deborah shook her head, “I’m not going to soil the car the same way you soiled your pants.” Scott’s face was practically glowing but he understood his mum’s logic. More than anything he wanted to get out of these soiled clothes and yet to do so meant leaving the car. There was no way out of this situation that didn’t end in humiliation. Scott winced as he started sliding across the seat to the door, he could feel the thick mess in his pants smearing against his skin. “We’ll go inside.” Scott muttered bashfully. Scott’s hand was grabbed by Deborah and she started marching into the store. Scott had to hurry to keep up. The slimy contents of his underpants shifted and expanded with every step and Scott was left waddling like a penguin towards the cavernous shop entrance. He looked around to try and gauge whether people knew about what he had done, some seemed to be looking his way but it was hard to tell whether that was because he had pooped himself or if it was because he was being practically dragged into the store by his mother. Inside the store Deborah stopped in front of the greeter. The greeter’s smile faltered as he looked at the angry woman dragging a man in behind her. No doubt he believed he was about to face an irate customer. “Do you have a baby changing area?” Deborah asked impatiently. “A baby-” The greeter started to say. “For my son.” Deborah loudly interrupted causing some nearby people to look. Scott was in shock at the situation and all he could do was stare in open-mouthed horror. He heard some snickering from behind him and turned to see a group of teenagers who must’ve overheard what was happening, he could almost feel their eyes as they looked down at a rear end that was covered in poop. The greeter rather meekly pointed to the side. Up past all the cash registers there were four doors that were clearly bathrooms. Deborah started pulling Scott towards them with her bags swinging from her hand. Scott thought one of the bags looked a little too heavy to just be clothes and their seemed to be a rectangular package in there. As the doors came into focus Scott could see two of the four were marked male and female with a third one being a disabled bathroom. The fourth one showed a baby on a changing table and it was to this one that Scott was dragged. When Deborah pulled on the handle he was relieved that it was occupied. It was short lived though as the smell started to catch up with him. Nearby people were sniffing the air and looking in his direction. “Mum, can we PLEASE just use the disabled bathroom?” Scott hissed desperately. “Absolutely not.” Deborah replied as she waited next to the changing room door, “What if an actual disabled person needed to use it?” The next minute felt like an hour and by the time the baby changing room door unlocked it seemed like half the customers in the store were looking at Scott with disgust. A woman walked out with an infant babbling in her arms. She looked at Deborah and then at Scott, she sniffed the air almost like a cartoon before shaking her head in disgust. Scott didn’t stand out in front of others any longer than he had to. He darted inside the bathroom and was actually glad when Deborah walked in and closed the door. He felt his body relax a little now that he was outside the view of everyone. “Get up on the table.” Deborah ordered as she put her bags down and started rolling up her shirt sleeves. “But-” Scott started. “Get on that table right now or I’ll take you back out into the store and change you there.” Deborah’s eyes were wide and filled Scott with fear. He wasn’t used to seeing his mother this angry. Scott didn’t want to test his mum’s patience because it was clear there wasn’t a lot of it to be had. He didn’t want to climb up on the changing table like a baby but he felt out of options. She took a deep breath and clambered up on to the padded surface, when he turned and sat down he felt the mess in his underpants spread even further. He winced as the rapidly cooling excrement dirtied even more of his body. “I can’t believe I still have to do this at your age.” Deborah said as she walked forwards, “Even Huw has managed to keep his pants clean and dry.” Scott could feel his bottom lip trembling. Despite all his efforts to be cool and disobedient he found himself following his mum’s orders. There was something about having full underpants that made him very compliant. He just wanted his mum to make all of this better. Deborah pulled off Scott’s shirt and then his shoes and socks. The eighteen-year-old wasn’t even allowed to take control of his own undressing. Deborah winced as she undid Scott’s pants and lowered them, all that Scott was left in was his soiled underwear. The smell had grown almost unbearable. Scott was absolutely mortified to be down to his dirty underwear in front of his mum. His hands went to cover himself but they were wrenched away by Deborah who was like a woman on a mission. She took a deep breath and then suddenly pulled down on the underwear. It was like time suddenly slowed down as Scott realised he was now fully nude in front of his mum. He looked down and saw that much like his behind his crotch was covered in his poop. He thought for a second that he was going to throw up. Deborah pulled a packet of wet wipes out of the bag. She opened them up and set about cleaning her adult son without a word. Scott cringed as he was wiped clean though he couldn’t deny how much better he felt as the crap was washed away. It took ages for Scott to be fully cleaned and he had to be rolled this way and that before his mum was satisfied. The worst part was when she cleaned Scott’s genitals, he had to stay still whilst his mum took hold of his most sensitive areas to clean them. He felt even more ashamed than he did in the car. He was just about to sit up when his mum stopped him. “Wait.” Deborah commanded. Scott watched as his mum turned and walked to the other plastic bag. He saw her reach down and tear something open. It was only when she stood up that he realised what that something was. “No, no, no…” Scott shook his head rapidly. “A nappy.” Deborah said simply as she walked across the room. “I’m not wearing that!” Scott exclaimed. He tried to sit up but his mum pup her hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “I’ve had enough of you acting like a baby.” Deborah said sternly, “Your behaviour has been awful for too long and now. Wetting your bed and now pooping your pants is the final straw.” “But-” Scott desperately wanted to plead his case. “This is not up for negotiation!” Deborah said so loudly Scott was worried her voice would carry out of the door. Scott was horrified as Deborah went to the foot of the changing table. He found this impossible to believe but before he had time to fully process everything his legs were in the air. His arms flailed at the unexpected movement and when his legs were lowered he felt soft padding underneath his butt. Baby powder was sprinkled liberally over the young man’s crotch falling like snow. Scott didn’t remember his childhood but he had strong feelings of babyhood as the front of the nappy was pulled up and over his crotch. It felt even thicker than it looked and it crinkled very loudly. Scott’s mum was very experienced at changing nappies and it showed as she quickly completed the task. The tapes were pulled tightly and the sides of the nappy hugged Scott tightly as they were placed on the front of the padding. Scott felt almost as humiliated as when he originally pooped himself, it was like the nappy was an admission that it might happen again. “This Tena will make sure you don’t cause a mess if you have another accident in your pants.” Deborah said as she tugged on the waistband and checked the fitting of the nappy. Scott couldn’t take any more and a loud sob escaped his mouth. Once the dam was broken he couldn’t stop the tears that followed, he covered his face with his hands as he started crying like a baby. “Crying?” Deborah cocked an eyebrow, “It’s amazing I didn’t see how immature you are before, maybe this nappy is perfect for you.” When Scott felt his mum’s hands leave him he sat up with a crescendo of crinkles. He slid to the side and dropped off the table, his first thought was to get his clothes to cover himself up but he found Deborah already stuffing them into a bag. Scott looked down at the nappy. He pressed his hand against the front despite his disgust, the smooth plastic felt so strange and alien compared to what he was used to. It bulged out in every direction and despite saying discreet on the packaging it felt like they were the most obvious things in the world. Scott thought about tearing the nappy off but now that he was without his clothes he knew it would just leave him naked and stuck in a restroom in a supermarket. “Put these on.” Deborah had reached into the shopping bag and pulled out some clothes which she placed on the now clear changing table.

Chapter 10 Theo spend the rest of the day playing Fortnite in his room. He was a bit ashamed of what had happened at the supermarket and thought it’d be a good idea to keep his distance from his mum and sister. As he was playing his friends they were asking where he had been the last few days and when he was coming out to see them, but kept his cards close to his chest and simply claimed he was ‘busy at home’. He was starting to realise the ramifications of the choice he’d made. He was sat in a now soggy nappy and childish dinosaur t-shirt and was being treated like a baby. Although he felt some guilt about being unsociable with his friends, he knew this would only be for a few weeks and he may never get this chance again. A few minutes later he said goodbye to his friends and turned off the console. Almost right on queue his mum walked in. “Hey sweets are you coming down for a film with me and Izzy?” She asked him. It was a bit of a family tradition to watch a film together on Friday evening. “Yeah I’ll be down in a sec” he replied as he stood up and bent over to place his controller in a basket on the floor. This gave his mum a full view of the soggy nappy around his waist. He must have wet it a few times during his gaming session. “Think we need to get you changed before you go down” she leaned over and cupped the bulging nappy between his legs. She lead him into Izzy’s room and he assumed the position on the changing table. “By the way I’ve been called into work tomorrow and in your current state I’m not really comfortable leaving you and Izzy at home on your own” she said as she pulled the wet nappy from under his bum. “But I’ve been left home alone millions of times over the years I can look after Izzy” he insisted. “Theo are your forgetting our agreement? For the next few weeks you’re a baby and babies can’t be left on their own” she replied. “That’s why you two are going to spend the day with Hannah tomorrow”. “WHAT?” Theo sat up in shock. “Excuse me, I make the decisions around here and it’s the only person I can trust with you two. Don’t worry she knows all about your nappies she understands” she pushed him back onto the table and covered him in baby powder. “You mean you told her? Mummy this was meant to be our secret?” He began to tear up. “It’s not a problem she’s the only person I’ve told. Plus she has experience with babies so it’ll be a good experience for you”. She did make a good point. Being with someone who works in a nursery all day would help him to feel like a baby, but it was Hannah. She had babysat him loads of times when he was younger even though she’s only a few years older than him. And truth be told, he sort of had a crush on her. “Can’t I just go in grown up clothes? Just for tomorrow?” he pleaded. “No” she shook her head and taped up the new nappy. “Plus the way you’ve been going through these nappies I’m not sure you could last the day without having an accident”. She pulled him up off the table and dressed him in his blue onesie. That last sentence stuck in Theo’s head, was he actually losing control of his toileting habits? The dummy was stuck in Theo’s mouth and Kelly picked him up and carried him downstairs. As they reached the living room he saw Izzy drinking milk from a bottle in her pyjamas. She put Theo down on the sofa next to her and gave him a bottle. This time it was blue bottle with a spaceship on the front, “she must have bought this at the shops earlier” he thought to himself. Theo spent the evening watching Zootopia. Izzy has seen it hundreds of times but she still wanted to watch it again. Theo wasn’t really paying attention as he snuggled up to his mum drinking the bottle. He couldn’t stop worrying about the next day, and Hannah seeing him wearing a nappy. Once the film finished both him and Izzy went to bed, both had kept their nappies dry during the film so neither needed changing. He struggled to fall asleep due to his anxiety, but eventually dozed off. The next morning Theo was woken up by his mum and she ushered him downstairs for breakfast. He was met by a welcome surprise as he realised he hadn’t wet his nappy during the night. He hardly touched his breakfast as the nerves were beginning to take control of him. Kelly noticed that he hadn’t eaten any of his porridge. “Theo I know your nervous about today but you really don’t need to be. You’ve known Hannah your whole life and she’s promised me she’s not going to tell anyone” she reassured him stroking his thick blonde hair. “Just relax and enjoy it”. It did calm him down, I’m sure once the initial greeting was done he’d enjoy it. As she stroked his hair he relaxed and felt a stream of wee enter the nappy. After breakfast he went for a shower and afterwards his mum got him ready to go. She put him in one of his Cuddlz nappies and prepared his outfit. She’d chosen a red plain vest and a pair of jeans with an elastic waist. He’d usually never be seen dead wearing either item but his mum thought he looked adorable, and he did. She then gave him a backpack to take to Hannah’s with him. He didn’t look in it but assumed it contained nappies and changing supplies. As they left the house Theo was getting more and more worked up. The whole situation was beginning to backfire and it felt more like a humiliation, he just wanted to be a baby in his own home. After an uneventful half hour journey they arrived at Hannah’s flat. It was in a high rise building in the middle of town and had big open windows with mostly white decor. Kelly lead him and Izzy into the lift and up to Hannah’s floor. Theo looked like such a toddler with a vest on, and he began to wonder what Hannah’s reaction would be. They got to her door and Kelly knocked on it. This was it, no going back now. Theo heard the door being unlocked and it swang open. “Hey guys come on in!” She greeted. Theo looked up at her like a way he never had before. She was wearing a pink hoodie and short gym shorts, with her ginger hair up in a bun. Kelly walked them both into the flat. It was open plan and fairly modest. As he peeked into the living room and saw all sorts of toys on a mat. She was fully prepared. “They’ve both got bags with ‘supplies’ in so you’ve got everything you need” Kelly told Hannah. “Right I need to shoot off I’m late as it is, have fun you two!” She kissed them both on the head and rushed out the door. “See you later on have a good day!” Hannah said as Kelly left. She then squatted down so she was at Theo and Izzy’s level. Much like his mother, Hannah towered over Theo. “Are you two cuties ready for the funnest day you’ll have all summer?” She asked them in a very childish tone. It was clear to a Theo she wasn’t even going to ask about his situation, she was just going to treat him like his sister without any questions. “What do you want to do first? I’ve got finger painting, colouring books, fluffy toys...” she reeled off a list of stereotypical baby activities. Theo was starting to come round to this. “Colouring colouring!” Izzy shouted out. “Thought you’d choose that honey, what about you Theo?” She turned and looked at him waiting for any answer. “Yeah colouring, whatever” he said rather abruptly. He was being really shy for obvious reasons. “Okay grumpy pants” she teased him in order to try and break the ice. Theo cracked a slight grin and she smiled right back at him. “Right I’ll take your bags and put them in my room, go and sit on the mat in the living room” she said as she took the bags off their backs. As she did Theo felt his vest ride up his back exposing the waistband of his nappy. Before he could even pull it back down he felt Hannah pull it down for him, and then pat his nappied bum. He heard it crinkle and went bright red. Him and Izzy both sat on the blanket and both grabbed a colouring book and crayons. Theo’s book was Avengers themed and his sisters was Frozen themed. He hadn’t done some colouring for years and thought it might be good fun so he laid on his stomach and got comfortable. A few minutes later Hannah returned. “Awww look at you two. I’m going to be in the kitchen so call me if you need anything. I’ll bring you in some snacks and drinks soon” she said to both of them, ruffling Theo’s hair as she walked past. He was shocked at how accepting she was of his new look. They’ve always had a playful relationship where they’d relentlessly tease each other for the smallest thing but he really didn’t expect her not to even mention the fact he was wearing a nappy. They both spent the next hour or so working hard on their colouring books. He was rather enjoying it and also enjoying Hannah’s company. She’d regularly come in and look at their progress and generally talk to both of them like babies. Rather worryingly Theo couldn’t ignore the growing pain in his lower body. “Oh no” he thought to himself as he held his stomach, knowing that he couldn’t really avoid the inevitable. He really didn’t want to face the prospect of a girl he had a crush on changing one of his poopy nappies. However he turned his head towards his sister and realised she may have beaten him to it. He watched her get up on all fours and force a poo out into the back of her nappy. Her skirt couldn’t hide the clear bulge on her bum and he immediately smelled what she had done. When she was finished she simply sat back down and continued colouring. He then began to hatch a plan in his head. A few minutes later Hannah walked in and was stopped in her tracks as she began audibly sniffing. “Phew I think someone has done a poo in here. But which one?” She teased as she walked over to the mat they were sat on. “Theo honey stand up” she ordered. She was finally going to interact with his nappy. He stood up and faced her and Hannah grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. She then pulled back the elasticated waist of his jeans along with the plastic nappy and peered down at his bum. “Oh good boy your bum is still squeaky clean!” she congratulated Theo as she pinged back the waist of his jeans. He was so embarrassed but also relieved that he had resisted pooping himself. “That leaves only one person. Izzy have you got a dirty nappy?” She asked as she picked Izzy up, held her in the air and sniffed her behind. Theo was partly jealous she hadn’t done that to him. “Pee-yew Izzy! Think we need to get your bum changed!” She put her on her hip and carried her into her room. “‘We’ll be back in a minute honey just carry on with your colouring” she said to Theo. As they left the room Theo got up and tip-toed into Hannah’s bathroom. He planned to temporarily take off his nappy, use the toilet and the put it back on. No one would be the wiser. As much as he liked using his nappies, he couldn’t do it in front of Hannah. He reached the bathroom without raising suspicion and immediately pulled down his jeans and began quietly untaping the nappy, he knew he had to be quick as it wouldn’t take long to change Izzy’s nappy. He laid the nappy on the floor and sat on the toilet. Almost immediately he felt a torrent of poo and wee escape his body as he sat down, it had been days since he used a toilet and it weirdly felt a bit strange, plus he could tell if he’d used his nappy it would have been a really messy one. Just has he began to wipe his bum he heard footsteps in the living room, “dammit” he whispered to himself as he realised he’d run out of time. He got up off the toilet but then the door swang open, Hannah was stood with her hands on her hips. “What a naughty boy!” She shouted rather angrily. Just like his mum seeing his wet pull-up a few days ago, he’d been busted.

Long-time lurker, first-time poster. Hope people enjoy this - not the most original idea, but I wanted to try my hand at writing. Natalie's Nighttime Issues Chapter One - April 30, 2017 Natalie was happy with her job. She'd worked since she was sixteen - she'd been (in order) a babysitter, a camp counselor, and a waitress. She'd worked at her university's library to pay her sorority dues. And now, having graduated cum laude from her nursing program, she finally had a job that gave her a sense of purpose and dignity. There were still tough parts, to be sure. Cleaning up vomit would never top her list of favorite activities. But cleaning up a patient's vomit still felt as though she were contributing, albeit in a small way, toward their care. It was different than cleaning up a drunk's vomit in the bathroom of the bar at which she'd worked. Maybe that was why the less glamorous parts of being a nurse never bothered her - everything was easier to tolerate in service of some greater goal. She'd started in August and spent her first several months terrified that she'd be responsible for some major medical disaster. Marking the wrong leg for an amputation (not that she'd been involved in many of those), or giving the wrong medication to a patient. It wasn't that she felt incompetent - the stakes were just too high. She had the sort of low-grade impostor syndrome that every young nurse encounters. But in time, she'd settled into a routine that moderated her anxiety, even if it didn't totally eliminate it. Natalie even imagined that she might be good at nursing - certainly, the bedside manner came naturally to her. She'd spent her share of time feeling small, powerless, and scared in doctor's offices and hospitals as a child. Experiencing the full range of empathy (and lack thereof) the medical profession was capable of exhibiting had left her with a profound appreciation for those who treated their patients like human beings and a desire to do the same. So she took time to help the patients in the pediatric oncology ward name their stuffed animals. She never rolled her eyes when her older patients told her the same stories for the fourth time. And she tried her best not to look disgusted whenever she had to deal with someone else's bodily fluids (which happened a bit too often for her taste). In other words, she hoped that she was the type of nurse who would've comforted her childhood self. All of which was to say that on the night of April 30th, Natalie had no outward reason to be standing in front of a mirror, hugging herself tightly and trying to control her breathing as she fought back a panic attack. Her light blue scrubs were bunched at the shoulders; she'd worn a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath and the wrists were damp when she'd tried to stem the tide of tears. She looked in the mirror and tried to fix her smudged mascara and set about psyching herself up for the night ahead. Because this was Natalie's first overnight shift, and she had an embarrassing secret.

I've been wearing diapers 24/7 for around a year now. As long as i can remember I've always wanted to wear diapers because i needed them, not because i had a fetish for them. At some point i said to myself what am i waiting for? There is never going to be a "good time." I just have to go for it. One day, randomly it seems, i woke up to a wet bed. I'd never been a bed wetter so I was excited and a little freaked out. After that I gained the courage i needed to take it further. I had long ago come to the conclusion that full incontinence, while fun, would be too disruptive to maintaining a "normal life." Not only that but sudden full incontinence would be really hard to explain to those around me. Becoming urinary incontinent on the other hand seemed reasonable and obtainable. So i started wetting the bed and my pants every chance i got. I wet my pants at work. At home. In public places. In front of friends and in front of family. After a while the embarrassment faded and changing my pants multiple times a day became normal for me and wet pants didn't bother me anymore. Those around me and the people that knew me understood that eventually I'd wet myself and have to change my clothes because of it. It was my family doctor who first suggested that I should wear "Depends" to protect myself. It was after that visit that my doctor put in my medical records a diagnoses of "urinary incontinence." For some reason seeing that written in my medical record gave me the freedom to wear diapers without any feelings of guilt. I had gotten the medical excuse that I was subconsciously looking for. I started wearing Depends pull-ups but found that they leaked and were ironically more expensive than actual tab style diapers while being less absorbent. It wasn't long until i transitioned into wearing tab style diapers 24/7. I found that wearing cloth diapers at night while wearing disposables during the daytime was the winning combo for me. Wearing diapers is like anything else it seems. Once you get into a routine that works for you time can go by rather quickly and it did for me. I don't remember at what point the bed wetting really took off. It started with not getting out of bed in the middle of the night to pee and wetting while i was still partially awake, making sure i was able to pee without pushing. Then one or two wet beds a week turned into three and now just about everynight i wet my bed or diapers while I'm asleep. Daytime incontinence has been harder to achieve. I would guess that I'm probably halfway there. I never hold back and always let go the instant the urge is present. Wetting while sitting still requires pushing down I find that most of the time when i wet is when I'm standing or walking around. I've tried not to put too much thought into it, that seems to be the real key in all of this. Just don't think about it. The more I let my body do it's thing without concentrating on my bodily functions the easier everything becomes. That's really what i wanted to get across here. For me at least all of the hurdles to incontinence have been mental not physical and I'm slowly getting passed them. I have no doubt that one year from now I'll be 100% urinary incontinent and diaper dependant just as my medical records describe and i couldn't be happier about it. Have patience, wear diapers and use them as they were intended and you will become incontinent given enough time. After all incontinence is not something that you should be able to flip on and off like a light switch. If being incontinent is what will make you happy and it's what you truly want in life you should go for it.

Hi, I am new to this whole thing. I have liked diapers for a long time but I have just recently started doing some internet snooping. I like wearing pull ups, tena, and goodnites. I am around the lower mainland area in BC and it would be a dream to meet someone else but I love texting people too.

Poor Daffy, sliding further and further down the AB rabbit hole. Next thing you know they're going to TeddyCon...

Solomon take it from a sissy that masturbated for many years before finally finding a girlfriend that taught me the joys of a good prostate massage and the use of butt plugs. there ar many other ways to orgasm without irritating the head of your penis. Been there done that. I loved the feeling of releasing a good load into my diaper for years after I was divorced. The number one rule is to get off with the least pain and or exerting yourself. You can get a suction cup dildo and use it in the shower and also very efficient way to keep clean. But try to use something a bit less heavy than petroleum jelly. That stuff stains sheets too. Vibrators are great and porno stimulates the senses. Nothing wrong with watching porn and giving the crank a yank. As long as you get off with little or no pain, do what makes you peak !!

If you really think you must tell your mom, write yourself a list of pros and cons. If you are living on your own what would you benefit from telling your mom. I know honesty is the best policy, but how do you know it won't freak her out or think something is medically wrong with you. If it is a guilt feeling you will get over that. I dressed as a woman for work for many years and never told my wife. I did my job and I paid the bills. We got divorced for infidelity issues on her part. I never told anyone but my present day girlfriend that is also a diaper lover. If you think she already suspects you of wearing,, keep it at that. You are a 42 yr old man and there is really no reason for telling. Think about it and I am sure you will make the right choice. Good luck to you and stay diapered !

What always gets me about the shouty open up types is they point to the death figures and say "See! It's not that bad!" meanwhile seemingly ignoring that the numbers are where they are precisely BECAUSE of the very measures they are protesting against. You guys in America have 98,000 covid deaths and are still acting like this is just a conspiracy to take rights away or that it's overhyped for some reason. Who has anything to gain from the idea that it's overhyped? Fear sells, I get that, but the economic ramifications are going to affect everyone. Arguing that you need to open up saves the economy is flat out wrong and also extremely callous and cold hearted. I'm very grateful I have the morals to value human lives over the bottom line. Also... It's a freakin' GLOBAL PANDEMIC. It cannot be overhyped, nothing of this scale has been for 100 years and yet it's still compared by people with no sense of perspective to a flu. People are hurting from the lockdown but people would be hurting a hell of a lot more without it. I get the feeling that some people who are unaffected or just inconvenienced are incapable of understanding that their situation doesn't apply to everyone.

I hear so many incontinent stories and although I know it is not an option being incontinent I would love to be anally incontinent to feel and see and know what it's like not to be able to control. I have had control of myself all my life. I have never wet a bed that I can remember, or have been forced to wear diapers. Diapers to me was a choice of cleaning my panties extra good or messing a diaper and discarding it after fun time. I don't wish incontinence on anyone. I would just like to have that learning experience of not feeling it. I feel it oh too good and usually a good poop is a good orgasm. Hugs everyone and please enjoy messing.

Chapter One (continued) - April 30, 2017 Natalie looked down at her phone. It was ten minutes until her shift began. She'd be on duty for a full twenty-four hours. Which meant sleeping in shifts, in a designated bunk. At work. Which is what accounted for the tears she'd only recently managed to stifle. She squared her shoulders, adjusted her ponytail, and looked in the mirror again. You can do this, she thought. You're pretty, you're fierce, and you're good at this job. It hasn't happened in months, anyway. You have nothing to worry about. She ran a hand nervously through her chestnut-brown hair and smiled at her reflection. A row of braces with bubblegum-pink elastics smiled back at her. She giggled. She'd hated the thought of getting them at first - it was hard enough to be taken seriously when you were five-one and looked like a teenager - but she wanted perfect teeth badly enough to grin and bear it. Improbably, she'd come to like them - her pediatric patients loved them, while most of the adults thought she was cute. In particular, the seniors would call her 'honey' and 'sweetie' - they liked her before she even did anything. Which made her job easier. One middle-aged man, admittedly, had taken one look at her and snorted 'I didn't realize they were letting freshmen practice on us,' derisively. But her supervisor had stood by her and said 'Natalie is one of our very best nurses - and I have every confidence that her standard of care will be exemplary,' at which point the man had the decency to look abashed. Suddenly, Natalie's reveries were interrupted by a knocking on the door. 'Nat, come out, girl," a voice called, 'we've gotta clock in.' 'Coming, Tracy,' Natalie replied, 'just finishing my lipstick.' She took a quick pass at her lips (a light shade, to match her braces) to cover the lie. As she walked out of the bathroom, Natalie took care not to betray even a hint of her previous anxiety. She knew that fear was like an avalanche - if she gave into it even a bit, things could snowball. So she held her head high as she smiled at her friend. 'I'm so excited!'' she said. 'We've been waiting for this for months - I feel like we're about to become real nurses.' 'We're already real nurses," Tracy rolled her eyes, 'but yes, it's good to finally feel like we're fully part of the team.' 'Like we've been benchwarmers and everyone was nice about it but now we're in the starting rotation.' Tracy laughed. 'Okay hon. Let's just clock in. Then we can worry about you trying to dunk - maybe get you a trampoline,' Natalie stuck out her tongue. Both woman walked over to the check-in computer, swiped their ID cards, and turned to each other with mock-serious faces. 'Spartans,' began Tracy, 'what is your profession?' Natalie leaned over and blew a raspberry on her shoulder. Tracy, eight inches taller than her friend, yelped. The night began. May 1st, 2017 Usually, eight hours seemed an interminably long time. Even on the good days, it was exhausting to be on her feet for hours on end - especially if she had to deal with difficult patients. Thankfully, this had been an easier shift - the most challenging situation she'd encountered was an elderly man who'd become confused and insisted upon leaving his bed in search of what he called the 'pancake monster.' Natalie, skeptical of the monster's existence but also sympathetic to his relative lack of entertainment options, had patiently completed a full circuit of his floor with him, checking in each public space to confirm there were no monsters hiding there, breakfast-food-related or otherwise. After their journey, the man (Mr. Flowers, a kindly widower in his eighties who was, when lucid, fond of reading old murder mysteries) had laid down without a fuss and told her that if he couldn't find a monster, he wouldn't mind a nap. Normally she'd agree with him, but on this day a nap was the last thing she wanted. In fact, while she'd usually be looking forward to the end of eight hours, today she'd been dreading finishing work. At 5 AM, exhausted and disheveled, she lurched into the sleeping room before realizing her mistake and tiptoeing to the bathroom. She set her purse on the side of the sink and looked at herself again. Her orthodontist had told her that wearing her headgear at night could speed her treatment up, but whatever unflappable confidence she professed regarding every other aspect of her appearance, she didn't think she could bear that particular indignity while visible to her co-workers. So she was taking a night off. Her other issue, though, worried her more. Should I have brought a Goodnite? To do so had seemed, when she'd considered it twelve hours before, like an admission of defeat. After all, as she reminded herself, it had been a long time since she'd had a nighttime accident. But she'd also had stress-free nights, all in her own cozy bed in her downtown studio apartment, and the string of dry nights that had inspired her to ditch the Goodnites a month prior hadn't included any nights sleeping with others. If the thought of her coworkers discovering her in Goodnites was petrifying, the thought of actually wetting herself at work induced a level of terror that threatened to overwhelm her. It was the same fear that she remembered from junior high sleepovers, from high school dances, from college frat parties. The fear of being exposed and ridiculed and having her deepest secret advertised to others. Having all her dignity stripped away. Maybe I've been arrogant. She shivered and felt a flicker of anxiety. She cast a nervous glance at the roll of toilet paper resting by the closest stall, then walked over, sat down, and tried her hardest to pee. After five urine-free minutes she stood up, looked over, and ripped off a huge swath of toilet paper. Balling it up with her hands, she pulled out the elastic band of her pants and shoved it into the crotch of her panties. A makeshift pad. It'll have to do, she thought, or, hopefully, it won't have to do anything. Thus armored, Natalie stepped out of the bathroom, slid into a bunk, and - after fifteen minutes of tossing and turning - slipped into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

Metamucil basically turns poop into a rope like gel. If you're used to passing 6-8" in one movement, taking two tablespoons of Metamucil in the morning will probably turn your nighttime poop into an unbroken rope about 12-15" long, somewhat the consistency of jello salad. It will be very easy to pass the rope, as opposed to medium to hard poops. At least that's my experience. Be sure to drink at least 8-10 oz of water for each tablespoon of Metamucil, but more would be better because the psyllium uses the water you consume to turn into gel. Insufficient water consumption can result in the psyllium causing a blockage.

Once again, I am sorry for the late chapter addition. Also I am always looking to get better please let me know if there is anything that I can do to improve. Chapter 9 part 1 Todd immediately tried to sit up so that he could get to a bathroom. As soon as tried, Katie immediately pushed him back down into her lap, "Going somewhere?" asked Katie. "I need to go to the bathroom!" exclaimed Todd. He then bent down closer to Katie's ear and whispered, "I need to go number 2." "Todd, I know that we have been getting closer, but do babies use the toilet? Do babies use the toilet even if they have to take a poop?", Todd looked at her sheepishly and whispered "No." Katie then leaned down and whispered back to him, "Todd I understand that you must be struggling adopting to this role. But if we are going to satisfy Dr. Solomons than I am afraid that you are just going to have to use your diaper." Todd groaned as the pressure started to build up in his abdomen. He started crying tears of pain and frustration. He looked around and noticed that it wasn't just Katie watching at him squirm in pain but all of the other girls were too. He started crying harder as he saw them all snicker at him. He then couldn't hold it anymore as the pressure became too much and his bowels opened up with a loud fart. A mushy mess immediately started filling his diaper and the smell started to flood the room. Some girls were disgusted and plugged their noses with their fingers while others cheered and applauded. Todd stood up, disgusted with the feeling of the warm mess in the back of his diaper. He tried to run out of the room but as he tried to, one of the girls pushed him and he fell backwards and landed on his butt. The warm mess immediately started to squish around his butt and into his crack. Everyone started laughing now; and Todd's face turned a beet red. Unwilling to get pushed down again, he started crawling. The girls cleared a path for him and he crawled all the way to the nursery. Once inside Todd started to relax. He was a little worried about how much safer he felt in a nursery, that it started to feel like home. Katie came in and closed the door behind her, muting the laughs. Todd felt a combination of relief to see her. Todd just felt so safe whenever she was around. Though Katie could be mean to him, she made him feel that nothing truly bad could happen to him when she was around. "How are you feeling, Todd?" Katie asked. "I was feeling really embarrassed but I feel better whenever.....", Todd paused, " whenever you are around. You make me feel good. Katie I don't know why but whenever I am with you, I feel secure." Katie blushed slightly at that. Over the past couple of days she noticed that she went from hating Todd to slowly beginning to like Todd, maybe even love him. Not a romantic love but a love that you might have for a little brother. She was a little confused by that because Todd was actually a little older than her. "Todd, I feel better whenever Im with you too." Meanwhile, Dr. Solomons was watching Todd and Katie on camera. She was beginning to worry that Katie might be falling for Todd so much that she might not be able to finish the rest of the process. "I was afraid this might happen," she muttered to herself, "looks like I might need to intervene.

Seems like my math works out and I am not DEAD. You are more likely to die from heart disease or obesity than Covid-19 yet we aren't rushing to shutdown McDonald's and local smoke shop. And those sources all agree that there are steps you likely already taking such as washing your hands, not going out when showing symptoms of illnesses. These things are not being preached enough but you here the whole "Stay Home Stay Safe" mantra to the point that Doctors are starting to notice a spike in patients not coming into doctors offices for fear of getting this virus and killing them which in turn does kill them. That's the issue here.

His biggest issue is that we dont have a number of how many people are walking around showing no symptoms, thus we don't know how many ACTUAL cases of infections. His math is skewed to show an agenda talking point. Lets be real for a moment if we had a virus that killed 11 million Americans or 3% of the population we would have panic and chaos. All this nonsense that he spouts is the REAL reason why we are now seeing a spike unrelated deaths because the MEDIA and Google/Twitter/Facebook/Instagram blue checks are telling everyone that COVID will KILL you if you go outside. Our healthcare providers, Actual DOCTORS working the front line, and scientist all come out and have said this pandemic is asinine and when they do they get shutdown by the named Internet Lords above. Hell you even had governors (JB Pretzker - Look it up) trying to pass laws that basically made it Illegal to debate Covid-19 pandemic unless you spouted their agenda. The REAL truth is one highly respected Doctor in the New York area stated in March that likely 40% to 45% of New York City is likely in contact and infected with Covid-19 and showing NO SYMPTOMS. Thus BabyKeiff post at this point have been nothing but nonsense as NYC has a population of 9million almost and a surrounding population of 4million within a stones distince in the surround burbs and metro area... Even if its 40% plus infected that's 5Million people with 16k dead, and confirmed 200k people... He is nothing more than a useful idiot to continue the fear mongering and scar tactics.

Chapter 5 The rest of our journey home was pretty quiet, after the day I had had with aunty and her friends I was quite tired. We pulled up at the back of the house, aunty got out and opened the gates and drove in. The sun was just setting and I thought that we would be going back indoors but aunty said that we needed to take the dog for a walk first. As it was getting cooler she said that we wouldn't go far and if I promised to be good she would let me out of my harness. I was quite glad as I had been wearing it nearly all day and there might still be a few people around. My cute little skirt and tights where replaced with a pair of jogging pants as aunty said she wanted me to be comfortable with her in public with my diapers, without the humiliation of a skirt and tights. So off we went, walking down the beach with the dog running freely ahead. Aunty asked me if I had enjoyed myself today and I had to say yes, it had been an experience I will never forget. She was glad about my reply and said that she was looking forward to the rest of the night ahead. We carried on to the end of the beach and sat down for a while to watch the sun setting in the distance. Aunty pulled me close to her and quietly slipped a dummy into my mouth. We sat there for what seemed like ages when aunty asked if I was ready to head back. I wanted to more than she knew, as I wanted to go to the bathroom but she could tell something was wrong. She asked what was wrong and I said that I needed the bathroom, she just said to let it out where we were. I felt awkward but aunty said it was ok and she would change me when we got back. I knelt down and relaxed, aunty gently rubbed my back and I just let it out, before I knew it I was soaked. Aunty said that I was a good little sissy so we got up and walked back to the house, well more like waddled back with my soaking wet nappy. Once we were back, we went straight to the bathroom where Aunty started to run a warm bubble bath before stripping me naked, then I was lowered into the water and left to soak for a while. When Aunty returned she had a large sponge with her and proceeded to wash me all over. She said that as I had been good all day I deserved a reward. With that she started to gently rub my ever growing clitty, saying to me that I was her special little one and she wanted me to make sissy cummies for her. This just about sent me over the edge and it wasn't long before my clitty was making a mess everywhere. By the time I had recovered, aunty had gone out of the room before returning with a big fluffy towel, then she wrapped it around me, hugging me tight before drying me off. That night I went to bed dressed in a nappy, pink frilly panties and nightie, sucking a dummy. The best part was sleeping all night in the cot, it just felt so good. The following morning I had to get up and changed before heading back to see the family. But when I met up with them I had a little surprise waiting. They asked if I would mind if they went abroad for a few days to meet some of their relatives. I had to think for a moment, then trying to hide the excitement building within, told them that i would be fine, I would just spend more time fishing. But secretly I knew this was a time for me to have more time with aunty. I messaged her and she said it was fine with her, so later that day after taking my wife and her mother to the airport, I headed back over to aunties house. When I got there I found a note pinned to the back door which said "meet you in the cafe on the beach at 10am, make sure you are dressed properly" which meant I was to be wearing my nappy. It was already 9.45, so I quickly put my car in the back yard, locked up, and set off to the cafe. When I got there, the woman behind the counter said she had been waiting for me. I was a bit confused but Aunty had phoned to tell her I would be coming in and to get me whatever I wanted, she would be about an hour. I said ok and could I have a hot chocolate and a cookie. She said ok and told me to sit at the table in the corner. She brought the drink and cookie over and I drank the chocolate slowly dipping the cookie into it. It was then I started feeling a bit sleepy. When I woke up I was still in the cafe but things had changed somewhat for the worse. I was now minus my trousers, shoes and socks. I still had my nappy on but it was now covered with a pair of pink flowery shorts, my feet had a pair of frilly topped ankle socks on them, with white t-bar sandels. I had lemon edged white strappy top on which made me totally girly. The biggest problem was that I was sitting in the cafe, in the backroom, but now in a chair strapped to it with some reins. Luckily for me there was no-one in the cafe, until the door opened and in walked Aunty. She said that she was glad to see I was now dressed properly for the day ahead.

Real accident, probably not. You actually said, " you could set up an accident in a situation where logically, he can't say you should have gone to the toilet... and accidentally pee in your pants on the way home in the car, and see how he reacts to it". That doesn't sound like a real accident to me. It sounds like it's all planned out ahead of time and "set up" ahead of time to pee your pants in the car just for the purpose of seeing how he reacts. In that case, being set up with a fake accident in my car just to see what my reaction would be is disrespectful to my property.

If you burn the outer sphincter, it will be dead, so there is no way it can move. Then, if you are still alive, you have about 2-3 hours to get to a hospital, get taken into surgery so a person who actually knows what they are doing can cut an opening in it to avoid your bladder from bursting.... that is if you are still alive from the complicated trauma that you have created to your balls, and your blood system. Hopefully, the electrical charge has not created a blood clot that has made its way to your heart. It is only fatal if one looses an organ that one actually needs / uses!

Technically speaking none of the things the governors are doing with these lock downs or mask requirements are NOT law. It is nothing more than a suggestion. To become a punishable law local state house and senate most vote them into laws so the executive branch can enforce it. Technically speaking what is happening is just more of your rights as an American being taken by a thousand cuts... You know whom didn't see this coming before it was too late... Venezuelans... They didn't see the hell they were in until the government took their rights a little at a time until they noticed they went from abundance to slavery. Your facts are so wrong. 90k dead in the US. Sweden is 5k dead. How about some truth to your comments., Seriously Just Google Covid-19 Death by Countrys and it will show you the WHO and CDC numbers.

I think Depends has become the go-to term in the common lexicon because incontinence isn't something non-ABDLs talk or think about much, and Depends advertises a lot, so that's the first incontinence undergarment/ brand the majority of people are familiar with.

I was wondering how long I'd have to go before seeing an article addressing this! One of the reasons I went back to diapers a few months back was precisely for this. I could take some longer trips from home without worrying about finding an open restroom which are still in short supply today. Maybe the lack of public restrooms will create a new utilitarian diaper user out of folks that need to travel thus increasing the availability of better products beyond the mail-order houses?

Part 3 “9:30 sharp – others can set their clock according to your bedtime”. Sarah says as I am laying down in the bed, changed in a thick nighttime diaper. “It was a lovely night, wasn’t it? Wonderful dinner, smooth conversations… and of course, some very delicious wine. Oh, I love vacation”, mommy says. By the tone in her voice I can hear that she got tipsy by the bottles of wine we all shared. “Did you see how Steff and Brad looked each other? Oh they could not wait to get back to their room... I am sure they are getting naughty right now… Speaking of which…”, Sarah said as she ran her finger teasingly along on the frontside of my childish looking diaper. “I think I promised you something before, can you remember?”, Sarah asks. “Y…yes, mommy. I… You said I can make a cummie”, I gasp. For the past 2 hours, I could not get my looks from Sarah. She looked fantastic. Her beautiful face, her great hair. She was dressed in a tight black dress that showed off her sexy body, her beautiful breasts and her perfect ass. The thought of getting my hands on this body has been making me go insane. “Please, mommy, please let me make cummies”, I playfully beg and guide my right hand to feel her beautiful breast. “Ah ah ah… Did I give you permission to do that?”, she smacks my hand and scolds me. I am puzzled. “Excuse me, did I give you permission to touch me?”, she repeats. “No, mommy”, I disappointedly muffle through my pacifier. She looks at me with her stern eyes. “That’s right. I did not so.” She smacks my thighs. “Babies do not get to touch their mommies without permission.” Oh god, how sadistic can a person be? Why can’t we just forget these stupid rules for three minutes? I get annoyed but I know better than to make any silly move now. If I do, this whole thing is blown off for sure. “May I please touch you and make cummies?”, I try to play along and hope that I can turn the situation into a happy end. “Silly baby… As if touching me was necessary for making cummies”, she laughs at me. “You gotta make cummies but….” Oh god, I know what is coming next. “On your stomach. Now.” I immediately roll over. “Instead of touching me, you will touch your cute little Pampers. You like that as well, don’t you?”, she says teasingly. “Now get your hands under your Pampers and show how much you like her.” I obediently guide my hands to the frontside of my diaper. Knowing what she expects, I start to caress it, pushing my cock against the soft fabric of my thick and colorful Tykables diaper. I press my legs together, getting aroused by the crinkles which are getting louder and louder. “That’s it, baby. Your Pampers wants to know how much you like it. That’s a good Pampers boy. Go on, baby, hump your Pampers. Hump it and say how much you like it.” My breathing increases. “Mommy, I love my Pampers. I love humping my Pampers.” My movements become rhythmic and powerful. “Don’t tell me, baby. Tell your Pampers. Tell her how much you love humping her.” Sarah gets seemingly aroused by this too. “Tell you Pampers everything that you love about her. Tell her, baby. I am not jealous, I want to hear it too, baby”. “I love you Pampers!”, I exclaim. “I love humping you. I love how soft you are. I love…”. It’s hard to think straight right now. “Don’t focus too much, baby! Just say what comes to your mind, baby! Why do you love your Pampers. Tell us, baby. Tell your Pampers and me”. Sarah’s breathing intensifies. She sits a little behind me. I cannot see her clearly but I could swear that she has her hand in her panties. “I love you Pampers because you are so tight!”. I get ecstatic and loudly mumble through my pacifier. The thought of getting to cum lets me forget the sudden idea of how ridiculous that whole scenery must look like. “I love you Pampers because you are so soft! I love you Pampers because you are so colorful”. Now it gets rolling. “I love you Pampers because you are so crinkly”. Oh god, I need to cum any second. “I love you Pampers because you take all my potties!” I hear mommy screaming from behind. “That’s it baby boy. Show your Pampers how much you lover her. Make your cummies into your Pampers. Make a mess for your Pampers and your mommy!”. I feel a hand firmly patting my diapered behind. I explode. I shoot a massive load into my Pampers. My body shivers. Joyful spasms going through my body. I vaguely hear that Sarah gasps from behind. A few minutes later, Sarah cuddles to me and whispers into my ear. “Oh god, such a good little naughty Pampers lover.” “Now make sure that you also show your Pampers your not-so romantic side. Show your Pampers how much you can wet, baby.”. She giggles. “Good night, sleep tight. And don’t forget how you are supposed to sleep.” She gives me a kiss on my pacifier and rolls over to her side of the bed before she switches the lights off. Still exhausted from this little show, I feel the usual urge to rip off my Pampers and just go to sleep like any other in my age would do. Such moments are the worst. Instead, however, I make sure to spread my legs apart as much as I can. Believe me… I am trained well enough to do any stupid things now.

As much as I dislike the product, I do respect Kimberly-Clark for all they have done to de-stigmatize incontinence.

Used to use vaseline. But it wasn't the greatest solution. While it resolved the "rug burn" issue, it does interfere with the primary function of the diaper! I then moved onto hand lotion, then baby lotion. I prefer the lotion over vaseline because it's easier to apply - just squirt a bunch up front, apply, and done. It also doesn't interfere with absorption as much as the vaseline does. And it just smells so much nicer too. I get the lotion now from the warehouse club to keep cost to a minimum. This was the one thing I really loved about the Attends of the 1980s... the micropore liner! Yes, it was a nightmare for long term wear, but for pleasure seekers, once it got wet inside, it was a dream cum true! I have 6 or 7 left of the institutional version left in my "archives". Every few years I'll take one out to relive the past for a bit.

Daddy knows and of course my hubby knows and my two best friends know but that’s it. I don’t feel that other people need to know.

Chapter Three: A Final Charlie "Please, take a seat Charlie." The Captain was a younger man on the age range of the role; he might have been late 30's if I had to guess. I thought I knew his name, but at the same time the thought of it seemed utterly... unimportant. Like I simply didn't care. And that was weird, wasn't it? Shouldn't I care? The thought slipped away as I sat down and put my feet up on the edge of the Captains desk. He wasn't the only one here, either - I recognized two medical shirts, and a number of security. Jesus fuck, it was a bad call, alright? "Listen, Captain, I obviously overestimated—” "Charlie, it's important that you're quiet now. Just listen, please." His words were... uneven. Afraid? Was he afraid of me? That made no fucking sense. But I guess the Command Class were known for their soft skinned nature. "How much do you remember about getting on this ship, Charlie?" "Uh. Enough? That's a weird question to ask when you're trying to bust my ass over some—” "Charlie. Just listen. There was a situation with the transporter when you arrived. Let, uh, Officer Cadman, if you would..." I wasn't amused. I was actually balling up my fists as I listened to the Captain go on about this nonsense shit, and I wasn't oblivious to the fact the security staff had powdered on their pistols when I did. The white-shirted doctor held his pad and flicked the data to the display on the wall, showing a single bio-pattern split off into two. "You were split, into two halves, equal and opposite. One half of you compliant, compassionate, timid, thoughtful... and the other half of you impulsive, brash, aggressive, confident..." "Wait!" I barged into the captain's room, or... waddled may have been a better term. The captain looked up at me, and the medical officers, and then Charlie. Other Charlie. Oh jeeze... My cheeks went red at the sight of her. All the things we did together. All the things she said to me. And she was just... another part of me? I looked at the Captain for confirmation. "Is... is it true...?" "There is no fucking way that's true. I'm me, I'm my own damn person. He's just... some lost little stray who needed a Mommy figure. This is a joke, and you can't just fuck with people like this." I stood up and kicked the chair back, and heard the whine of pistols as the Captain raised his hands to try and calm me. "Charlie, listen to me. You're incomplete, you both are. You're both parts of the same person, the same... highly recommended Engineer. The kind of officer who doesn't make mistakes, like sending two men to almost die. Who doesn't get pushed around by another officer, or write lines on a datapad." "You're lying!” I screamed. “You're fucking FULL OF IT!" "I dunno," I said quietly, more to myself than to the room. "Maybe it's true..." "Of course you'd think that! I’m the best thing that's ever happened to you." I nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You are. And if I could... if I could have told you not to send those men out, or I could have stopped you from ignoring your messages, maybe I would have been good for you, too, right?" But I didn't. Why was I always so useless? Because I didn't have her? Was she my usefulness? Was she my... self-respect? "You're trying to cut me down because I don't second guess myself? Is that was this is? Some patriarchy shit? YES I HEAR YOUR LASERS get your fingers off the triggers and show some damn discipline you bunch of armored asshats!” The Captain took a deep breath and flexed his fingers before speaking: "A good officer is both instinct and restraint. Judgement and reason. Duty and compassion. Means and end. You're both missing one half of the equation, you're perfect for each other because you are each other. There's a fleet vessel en route that's going to figure out what happened here, to put you back together, but until then I need to know that you're not going to be a danger. Do I need to restrict the two of you to quarters?" He coughed. "Separate quarters?" "No! I... um." I looked at Charlie with a blush and then down at my feet. I thought... I thought I might love her. Did that mean... I loved myself? Wow, that sure felt like a foreign concept... "I'm sorry... that I'm not good enough for you. I know I'm not... I just don't want you to get in trouble again..." I pulled at my fingers and tears filled my eyes. "See what you're doing? Is this what you wanted?" Lasers or not, I closed the distance between myself and Charlie, and I put my arms around the dress-clad boy, holding him close to me. Wow that hickey was beautiful. I felt pride. Honestly, everything I seemed to do was for pride, or desire, or impulse. And I ran my fingers through his short pixie cut and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. “They’re lying…” "Would it be so bad?" I whispered to her. I could feel the tenseness in her body begin to falter. I looked up into Charlie's eyes with a small stupid smile. "I mean. If it means I get to be with you forever, then... then I sort of like the idea. Us, as one person..." "I don't want to disappear, I don't want to be nobody, I don't want to go away. I..." I was shaking. He was holding me. It felt wrong for it to be this way, for me to be the one freaking out over something, for Charlie the soft little sissy boy to be the one calm and composed. What the fuck was this. "You won't go anywhere... I promise, you won't." I looked up at Charlie as tears dripped down my cheeks, and she looked down at me with a mixture of surprise and fear. But no sadness. I must have all the sadness... "Why can't we stay this way?" Like someone here had the answers. Like somewhere here could tell me. I kind of knew, though, in a way: there was an original complete version of us, and that person was functionally dead. Justice was something I could feel. Righteous indignation. Passionate banner waving. We weren't meant to exist. He was sad. I was afraid. I couldn't look past the questions. What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Would I exist, in a void, inside this other person’s head? Would I ever see my pretty little other half again? It was agony… I looked at the Captain with a nervous smile and then down at my feet. I was still wearing the junior's dress and a very wet diaper. Honestly, this is not how I wanted my Captain to see me... "Are you sure about this?" He nodded. "The manifest only had one Charlie." "What about our monikers? We had different monikers." "Neither checked out. The correct moniker for Charlie was Parsell, AT347, which you would get if you added the two of yours together." I bit my lip and nodded my head. "Were we... uh, is Charlie... a boy? Or a girl?" The captain shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know." "Do we wear glasses?" She did. I didn't. Again, the captain shrugged. We didn't know who we were. We didn't know if we were a boy or a girl, we didn't know if we wore glasses, we didn't know if we were dominant or submissive. We knew that we were good in Engineering - that we were hired on to this ship. That our name was Charlie. Everything else, though... it was all a great unknown. "Do we have to wait? For the fleet ship?" I thought about that. About the single day we'd been alive, the single day we'd lived and loved, the single day in the walls of this ship. I didn't want it to be diluted by dread. “Just try it now. Try to fix it now!” "That's... a really bad idea." I sighed and rubbed my head. This is why we couldn't stay the way we were. I would never have the courage to do anything, she she'd get herself killed with her courage. Ugh... "We should wait for the ship," I told Charlie. But I think we both knew that I wouldn't push her. If she wanted to do it now, we'd do it now. I began to shake my head, and a different voice spoke up. "Neither of you understand the right thing to do, because neither of you can visualize the entire picture." That was the other white shirt; I recognized her badge as 'emotional sciences'; she was a shrink and I hated her on sight. I hated everything she said. But she kept talking anyway: "If the very decision as to your basic existence is so challenging, can you imagine the rigmarole of the day to day? Where every question has two answers, and both of you are wrong?" Rationally, I knew what she meant. I couldn't be right, and neither could Charlie. There was no right answer between the two of us. "I want to be one person again," I told Charlie in all seriousness. But the difference was: between the two of us, I had nothing to lose. Allowing her confidence and passion into my life would uplift me. But to her... I would only drag her down. I wiped the tears from my eyes. I could do any job on this ship without Charlie. I could do anything. Except... I couldn't feel love, could I? I could feel passion. I could feel lust. But the way my other half looked at me, the way he needed me, the way he'd do anything for me... I could never give him that, and I guess that was why I relented. "I want to be sedated. I want to say goodbye now. I don't want to live for days or weeks while we wait, knowing we have a time limit, learning to get on each others nerves, going stir crazy. I want to be sedated, put to sleep. Wake up... as whoever we were, I guess..." I was really good at everything. Especially, as it turned out, being a coward. "I'll watch over you?" I smiled shyly and looked down at my feet. "I'd like that," I said to Charlie, and kissed him on the forehead. * * * * * It took ten days. Ten days for a ship to arrive. Ten days to figure out what was going on. Ten days to solve the problem and come up with a solution. More importantly, it took ten days for me to build up the courage. My final act of courage, all on my own, and I wanted it to be for something special. Charlie and I were loaded into a weird machine in the transporter room. I sat next to her as she slept. They promised this would work, so... it had to, right? Either way, this was my last minute as me, and her last minute as her. There was no better time. I leaned down over her bed and kissed her once on the lips just as the light swirled around us. She didn't wake up and I didn't go to sleep, but somehow, we found our way home together. [End.] ----------------------- Thanks for reading. Like & Comment! PDFs and ePubs are available on Patreon!

Oh boy, I have so many of these. I've experienced some level of bowel incontinence with extreme urgency for my whole life with some periods of urinary incontinence. I enjoy pooping my pants but on my own terms rather than messing unintentionally. For this reason, I absolutely dreaded my senior prom. I took a loperamide with metamucil before I started getting ready that day. I used the toilet before the dance started and had plenty of time to get there so I was feeling confident. The prom itself went really well but I made the mistake of going to the afterparty. Against my better judgement, I had a few drinks and was soon feeling a bit tipsy. Around midnight, my bowels started grumbling and cramping. I asked my friend where the bathroom was and she pointed upstairs. When I stood up, a small turd slipped and I panicked. I ran upstairs and knocked on the door but heard someone throwing up. As I knocked frantically, I started messing myself right there in my prom dress. It was the largest BM I'd had in a long time because of the metamucil, and I usually poop several times a day. I gave up after a few minutes and walked home in shame.

I didn't but mom never minded bringing it up in conversation, I used to sit at picnics and barbeques while she discussed my problems and how much work it was for her having a teenager in diapers, it was not a secret in our neighborhood or at school, not that I got teased much either, I just kept to myself.

A final update: I'm so sorry to any potential readers that I have had, but the last chapter will be, for now, the final chapter. I had always intended to continue, but a lot of stuff has happened in my life recently that has made me reevaluate a lot of things. Several factors that were the driving force in me wanting to write this are no longer a part of my life, and I think I might try to take a step away from ABDL for a while. I don't think I had a lot of readers, but I know a few of you messaged me about upcoming chapters, and I'm so sorry to let you down. Never say never, but for now there are no plans to continue this story. Thank you so much for any readership I had up to this point. Stay safe.