Leaderboard

Chapter 27: Playhouse I HAD CLIMBED my way back up the stairs after breakfast and taken a shower to clean myself up. Grandma had put a ladder in the bathtub that let me climb up into the tub and back out like an above-ground pool ladder back home. ‘I think Mom told me Grandma always gave her baths?’ I thought. When I was done and dressed in one of the casual jeans and sweatshirt sets from the previous day, I went out to my room to brush my hair. ‘Need to wash it tonight while I’m here,’ I thought. My sisters and mom had me in the habit of not washing it daily to keep it from drying out. Instead, I used the same dry shampoo stuff they did, and it worked pretty well. Rather than put my hair into a ponytail that day, I let it hang loosely past my shoulders like I usually did at home. Just in case I needed it, I put a black hairband on my wrist and thought about playing more with the goggles. My phone buzzed just then, Want to come over and hang out here? The message was from Shelby. Sure! I responded. Knowing I would have to go outside to get to their ‘house,’ I grabbed a coat we bought the day before and put my phone in a large zip hand pocket. I held off zipping it up until I got to the outside door. Hopping down the steps reminded me of jumping down some crazy steps at a Mayan pyramid back home on vacation. These things were massive compared to my small size. ‘Well, I am only the size of a very young baby to them,’ I reminded myself. At the bottom of the steps, I found Grandpa hanging around, “Finding everything okay?” He asked me. I nodded, “Shelby asked me to come over to their house?” “Glad to see you two getting along so well! Those kids never see friends outside of school. Well, Ryan doesn’t really leave here now; everything’s online, so he’s pretty much here like his mother - all the time.” “That seems boring,” I said. “It is; I worry about Shelby after she graduates. I’m hoping she can get through graduation and make it to Hamilton okay. Once she’s there, I’m sure she’ll be fine!” “Did you all ever consider moving to another state? I think that one is safer for Littles?” He nodded, “We thought about it, but with Grandma’s job, it would have meant leaving too much behind.” He shook his head, “Enough heavy talk, though,” he smiled and opened the front door for me, “Just go on over and knock. Knowing that girl, though, she’ll probably be waiting for you on the front porch!” “Thanks,” I told him. The open door blew a ton of cold air opposite the past few days, and I was really grateful I’d thought to grab a coat! Overnight the temperatures had dropped probably close to freezing, and it was night and day from the previous day. As I approached the house, I couldn’t help but think that to a Big would probably seem like a child’s playhouse. It appeared to be two stories tall, but even with a pitched roof, it still didn’t climb to the height of the first story of the main house! It was a cute home, though, with an old-fashioned wrap-around porch and rocking chairs sitting out on it. The paint complimented the main house, so it seemed like a well-to-do family built their ‘children’ the perfect place to play. As Grandpa guessed, Shelby was outside to greet me as soon as I approached the house. “What do you think?” She asked me. I climbed four stairs up the porch and motioned, “This seems like a normal place!” She laughed, “I’m sure this is more normal for you. It’s so rare to have things sized for Littles here! Come in before we freeze,” she said. She only wore leggings and a long sweater, so I figured she had to be cold! Inside, the house was nice and warm, and she said, “Take off your shoes there,” to me. I followed her directions and looked around. To my left was a dining room with a table that seemed bigger than the family one we ate at back home most of the time had been, but I figured that was just my short size. ‘I’m child sized even compared to back home,’ I had to admit. Room for probably eight Littles was present at the table, but somehow, I could tell it was five chairs at most that got used much. I figured a Betweener could probably sit in the chairs, if not a little bit like a middle schooler sitting on a kindergarten chair. Everything looked ‘real,’ and I guessed Amanda and Fred probably had some guests who cooed at it. Looking at the place, I noticed that there was a larger door that a giant could probably squeeze through. They would have to stay really low to not break anything, though! “Here, let me give you the tour!” she said with a smile. “Obviously, dining room,” she said and walked me back around the side and through a door where there was a… play kitchen? “Just a play kitchen?” I asked. She laughed, “Sort of…” with a shrug, “Mom never really cooked much anyway, so when Grandma and Grandpa built this for us, he put in a working refrigerator and freezer,” she gestured, “and then a working sink, dishwasher, and microwave.” Finally, she pointed to a newer-looking appliance, “And this an AmeniTea, our family Christmas present.” “What does it do?” I asked. “Cooks, anything you want?” She smiled. “Anything?” I asked. “Well, almost anything. It does have to have the resources for it. We have a pretty large starter pack, though, that we installed.” “That’s cool,” I said skeptically. “So the stove, though?” I pointed to what looked like a plastic toy stove from a daycare back home. “Doesn’t work; even when Mom lived on her own, she could have burned water!” She laughed. I laughed with her and let her lead me around the rest of the first story, where there was a half-bath, a Living Room with a sizeable holoscreen setup, and a really comfy-looking set of chairs and couches. Family pictures of Shelby and Ryan growing up were placed along the wall, along with photos with their mother with them. I even saw one with my mom and her mom together. Unable to help myself, I used the camera on my new phone to take a picture of it. “Whatcha doing?” She asked me. “It’s cute; I’ll send it to my sister Riley. Maybe she can use it to make a print for Mom.” “That’s cool; I know my mom misses your mom still.” “I know the same is true for my mom; she was just terrified of ever shrinking even smaller if she came back.” “Well, that’s it for this floor; the basement is our old play area and Mom and Ryan’s hidden work areas. As far as any Big guests are concerned, Mom still plays there with the toys during the day.” “That’s got to be weird?” I asked as she led me up the stairs. She nodded, “We’re just lucky we have Grandma and Grandpa; if Mom had any other parents, we might never have even been allowed to potty train or leave daycare ourselves.” “I’m glad they are,” I said. Shelby pointed, “That’s Ryan’s room, Mom’s room is down there, and this is mine,” she said with a smile. She pushed open a white bedroom door with her name on a cute nameplate, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny?” She asked, clearly offended. “I need a picture of Riley’s room to show you, but your room looks nearly identical to hers! Like, I swear she even has that exact same comforter!” She looked at me in surprise, “Really?” I laughed, “Yeah, I wish we could get the two of you together. You’re like long-lost twin sisters in some ways!” But then, I looked around and noted that her vanity was just a little different; probably the only main difference was the open box of girls’ Pull-Ups off the side. She blushed a little when I noticed, but I said, “Why are you embarrassed? I’m wearing one right now too?” She shrugged, “I just like to think I’m an adult; I hate wearing them.” She motioned for me to sit on the floor across from her as she sat and leaned against her daybed. “Your school rules require them?” I asked. She shook her head, “Not necessarily. You can go to school without protection on… it’s just too risky?” “How so?” Shelby sighed, “So for a Little in our high school, we have potty charts like you do… but they’re not quite as important? Besides being an embarrassing item in your homeroom class, it’s not a big deal. You can go to college without any potty stars. The worst case is that a university like Emerson may highly encourage diapers instead of Pull-Ups when you go to college.” “I won’t say that makes sense… but I guess that seems like something they would do.” She nodded, “So anyway, as long as you’re wearing at least a Pull-Up and have an accident, it’s not the end of the world. You might even be lucky enough to make it home without a teacher or a Big student noticing.” “If they do?” I asked. She shrugged, “They usually change you if it’s a teacher, or if it’s a student, they’ll either change you or drag you to the nurse. Just depends on the Big.” “Change you? Where?” I asked. “If it’s a teacher, probably right in the classroom in front of everyone.” I felt my jaw drop, “You’re kidding!” “Nope, if you’re baby enough to have an accident, they feel like they can change your pants in public.” “That’s horrible! Has that happened to you?” I asked hesitantly. She nodded, “Not since Middle School, though. Grandma found out and went to school and ripped the heads off the teacher and principals. I’ve never had a problem with them doing that in high school.” I wanted to ask if she had accidents, but I thought better of it. “What happens if someone isn’t wearing a Pull-Up or something and has an accident?” “There aren’t many idiots who won’t at least wear a Pull-Up, but they usually get spanked in front of everyone and are never allowed back at school without diapers for the rest of the year. Their potty privileges get completely revoked then, too - they can’t even enter a bathroom without an alarm going off.” “This place is nuts!” I said. She nodded, “You’re right; I wish I could visit your dimension! The idea of living without diapers and some Amazon’s nursery hanging over my head sounds amazing!” I suddenly felt terrible for her and leaned in and hugged her, “I’m sorry you’ve grown up like that!” She looked shocked but smiled, “I’ve had it better than most! At least Grandma and Grandpa helped make sure no one could really bully us as much.” I nodded, “Mom said they protected her a lot too.” I looked around her room and asked, “So, like, what do you like to do for fun? Ryan already let me know you’re not a swimmer. I guess you do martial arts like my family… but what else do you do to hang out with friends?” She shrugged, “Hard to actually have ‘playdates’ with friends growing up. Other than at school, friends, I don’t really have many. I spend a fair amount of time on homework and then maybe some with my EdgeSphere goggles playing games.” “Those are really cool; I haven’t had much of a chance to play yet, though.” She smiled, “Aunt Megan and Meggy are coming over later this afternoon; I’m sure she would be happy to play a couple games with us.” She shook her head, “Just don’t hope to beat her on any games!” “Why?” I asked. “So my mom designs clothes still, right?” I nodded. “When Aunt Megan adopted Meggy, it was more like she adopted a teenager still in some ways. The girl basically sits and plays video games all day!” “Oh, that’s kind of cool!” “Yeah, but it also means she’s, like, at the Professional Level. With EdgeSphere games, she can hide that she’s a Little and plays all the time as this world-class gamer. She’s amazing!” “I guess practicing every day for decades and never having to stop for a potty break would help?” She laughed, “That’s almost exactly what she says!” Shelby and I hung out for the next couple of hours, and it felt very much like being with Riley. Then, just before lunch, she led me downstairs for the rest of the tour and showed me the basement. Most of it was occupied by the largest play area I could imagine outside a daycare! Toys meant for kids six months to three years were spread about as if they were regularly played with. I had to ask, “So, do these actually get played with?” Shelby blushed, “Sometimes… We’ve had a pretty lonely childhood, and sometimes we move things around to make it look good in case LPS visits.” “Does that happen often?” I asked nervously. She shook her head, “Only twice while I’ve been alive. Our nurseries in Grandma and Grandpa’s house passed inspection with no problem. The playhouse was less liked until they saw this room.” “How does an Amazon even get in here?” I asked. She smirked, “They sent a Betweener in.” I noticed some dolls that looked like they probably were twenty years old, while other toys looked like they had just been pulled from the packaging. “You said your mom has a workroom here?” “Ryan does, too,” she said, leading me to a wall with a play nursery setup. She pressed on a spot on the changing table behind some toy diapers, and a section of the wall disappeared. “Whoa, cool!” I said. “Holo-wall?” “Yep, Grandma is pretty creative!” The wall exposed a hallway that must have gone into the ground a little way before we came to the first open doorway. Ryan was inside working on something on a computer. “Hey, Ryan,” Shelby said. He didn’t hear us, so he jumped, “Oh, it’s you two! Hi,” he said. Then, without saying anything else, he said, “Gotta keep working here…” “See you later,” I said and followed Shelby back out of the room and noticed across the hallway, there was another room. “What’s that one?” I asked. “Oh, Grandma made a room for me too in case I ever want to just work from home… I want to leave and go to college, though, so it’s pretty empty.” She opened the door and showed me a barebones home office without anything personalizing except a couple pictures. “Cool, even if you don’t use it!” I said, “It’s got to be nice to have a backup?” She nodded, “It is; I hope I’m long gone after graduation!” I nodded and knew that would be similar to Mom leaving, and I suspected the family would miss her a lot. She continued down the hallway and opened a door at the end that led to a vast open room filled with bolts of fabrics, sewing machines, and some odd contraption in the middle that her mom was working with. She looked up and said, “Oh, hey, guys!” “What are you working on there?” I asked. “Oh, this is a FashionFuser,” she smiled. “I put in all of the details of clothes, and it’ll print, sew, and size any clothing for me.” I watched as she fiddled with some settings, “I was just getting ready to print this sample dress,” she said. “Can we watch?” I asked. “Sure, it doesn’t take long,” Aunt Bella said. With the press of a button, I saw the machine come to life, and in a clear cube in the middle, a dress dummy suddenly sprang to life from nowhere. “What is that?” I asked, “Where did that come from?” Aunt Bella giggled, “Your mom would have loved this thing too. It’s a hologram that is precisely the model’s measurements for the dress or garment. So it prevents having multiple types of dress dummies like I used to have.” I watched as from nowhere, like a 3D printer, it began running an attachment around in circles from the top of the dummy downward, and a dress began to take shape. “Mom, you are not going to get me to try one of those monstrosities on again!” Shelby griped beside me. “Huh?” I said, even as I realized there was a reason she wouldn’t want to be caught dead in it. It must have been the frilliest and most babyish dress ever imagined! A diaper cover was just visible under the short skirt of the dress when it was done. The dress skirt puffed out and was supported by some sort of fabric, pushing it out to where it would probably nearly be as wide as the wearer’s arm span! It featured lace around the outside of puffy short sleeves, more lace around the neck, and some lacy white fabric peeked out from beneath the skirt. It was so adorably sweet I was pretty sure every Amazon in the dimension would fall over trying to dress their Little girls in them! “Don’t worry, sweetie, this one is for me. Your cousin Meggy’s birthday party is next week, and she is having a Little party with baby attire required.” “Do I have to go?” Shelby asked nervously. “I can definitely make a matching outfit for you? You’d certainly be adorable if I made this in pink?” Her mom teased her with a smirk. “Or, you can just be a babysitter?” “Babysitter!” Shelby said as quickly as she could while picking up her mom and hugging her. I laughed at the two of them and had to appreciate the unique relationship they had! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for reading! Please press the 'Like’ Button at the top of this chapter to like this work and help others find it! Comments are always super appreciated as well! I appreciate those of you who liked the previous chapter! Since I had to post off schedule once, I figured I would do it twice and get back onto schedule! Looking forward to seeing what you all think about the family here. The next chapter sends Connor back to school and we'll start to see college life in the Nest begin for real! I'm currently nearing one of my last productive writing windows until next January. Help spur me on with likes and comments! (My goal is to not have any downtime in chapters for this story until it’s concluded!) LCW will have a new posting normally every Friday for the foreseeable future! Your support through likes and comments means a lot to me. That being said, if you’ve enjoyed this or any of my other works, consider supporting me by purchasing copies of them on Amazon Kindle! (And if you do so pretty please consider leaving me a 5-star review (you can just leave the stars and no public reviews are viewable then!))

Sorry for the long absence, I've been in a writing competition for over a month. I'll try to be better. Chapter 3 Like anyone who has been in school the days just blend together. Sure the lessons are different, new assignments given. New gossip, weather and news from the sports teams. But they are all the same on any given day. An assignment due every class, a test in nearly one subject or another every day and a paper or project due every week. It was the hardest semester I’ve ever done. When the days blend I sometimes lose myself in thought. Which is what happened to me one February day as I was walking through the hallway and a door opened so fast I just didn’t have time to react and the stout wood hit me square in the head. The impact sent me stumbling backward, falling onto my padded rear, letting all the air out of the diaper. My backpack, which was already heavy for me, pulled my back in a further lean, giving me a good view of Tagger who stood there looking at me as I held my head and tried to orient myself. “Ouch!” I said aloud, I could already feel the headache coming. Tagger and I were just staring there for several seconds before I realized the entire hallway had gone quiet. Every amazon had stopped to look at Tagger, the door and a fallen little. For most the logic would be sound. The little ran into the door as it was opening, however, given what had happened to Tagger for the last few weeks it was anything but logical. Tagger had become a ghost of his former self. His self-confidence had been destroyed. Most of his football group didn’t sit with him anymore at lunch or assemblies. The experience had caused a slight relapse and he had been forced to wear a diaper for a few days, then pull-ups for a few weeks. He’d only returned to normal underwear, according to the gossip of this place a few days ago. Last week he’d passed me in the hallway with his face was a mixture of anger and shame. He tried to hit me once when he was out of diapers. He lifted me by my shirt and pressed my back hard against the lockers. It was difficult to breathe for a few seconds until Katy and several other amazons told him to put me down. Several of his former friends had stood behind Katy and intimidated him to put me down. I don’t know the particulars of what happened afterwards but for the last few days he’s just passed me. Never looked or made eye contact. And here he was now on the other side of a door that just hit me. I’m not mad at him. I mean was an honest mistake, I should have been paying attention. “How could you Tagger!” an amazon female shouted. The sound hurt my ears but not nearly as much as the sounds that came after. Dozens and dozens of amazons flooded the hallways creating an ever growing barrier between Tagger and me. I never moved and yet I could feel the crowd get larger, their voices making my head hurt more and more. I heard some shouting in the distance followed by someone shouting fight but that was soon fading away as I was picked up by Elsa, one hand on my back and the other cupping my diaper under my pants. She wasn’t pressing me to her like Bree does, eh allowed me to support my head with my hand to mitigate the headache as she walked down the hallway, opposite of the Tagger. I could feel other hands rubbing my back and pulling the waistband of my pants so I knew they were checking me themselves. I tried to tell them to just let me go to class but every time I opened my mouth speak I was shushed. By either Elsa or another from the crowd that was clearing the hallway for Elsa to carry me. You would think she was handling an explosive with how much they were overreacting. After a few minutes I realized they were taking me to the nurse’s office. Nothing I said was going to make them stop; too many amazons in full parental panic, emotion to the highest decree, washing over them. The nurse’s office wasn’t much better. You should have heard the disappointment when the staff turned away most of the amazons away except for Elsa and one other amazon girl that had walked in with her. With the crowd at the door, another flurry I found myself in as the nursing staff took over. To give you some perspective…our school nurses office is nearly as big as a hospital waiting room. It was mean to take care of over 60 students at a time. Anything more than that and they would call the hospitals. After informing the nurse at the front desk what happened, without any input from me, we were escorted to a room where I was changed into a hospital gown and being held and baby talked by the two girls. My watch was removed and laid on the table. After a few moments I was taken to the schools MRI machine where I was swaddled in a blanket, “please remain as still as you can Aaron. I know the machine is scary and makes loud noises but do your best to be a brave boy,” the nurse said to me before leaving the room. Does every amazon believe we are as fragile as glass? The machine started up, it was a very loud noise but aside from that I really didn’t have a problem. It took a few minutes but I was eventually picked back up and delivered back to the room where Elsa and the other were but it turned out the nurse had told them to return to class. I was laid on the table. The lights were dimmed low and I was told to rest until the results came in. As the door close I put my watch back on, twisting the dial. Immediately I could feel little pins and needles sensations move up my arm, similar to when blood flow returns to your limbs after cutting the flow off. In truth it was my little nano-machines when they reached my ear, Morpheus spoke. You have a concussion Aaron. “That would explain the headache” I replied, turning over on my stomach to conceal my face in as much darkness as possible. Morpheus had evolved ten thousand times over since the start of the year. With his help in comprehensive coding of the Nantes I was able to finish my project a week early. Then I simply used my last week to improve on my original design, made changes in the schematics of the coding and paperwork and finalized it before submitting it to Mr. Tully last week. I only mention this because the nurse is typing on her computer a recommendation for you…summary regression. Zero chance of getting hurt like this again. “How did you—“I started before I remembered that Morpheus scans nearby machinery and electronics when he starts. Computers, phones, tablets, security footage, robots and machinery. This feature let him orient itself with its surroundings. “Never mind” I said softly. There is no way she got approval for that summary, nor would she be allowed to implement it but when have amazons really followed the rules when it comes to being fair to littles. Sure enough, a few minutes later the nurse comes in with a cup of apple juice, she tells me to drink it as it will help me feel better. After a she left I struggled getting off the table and pouring the apple juice into a potted plant tin the corner, something doctors’ offices do to make the room nicer for people. Another struggle getting back up on the table and my head was pounding. I lay there for another few minutes before I heard the door open. I thought it was the nurse checking to see if I drank the apple juice but then I heard additional voices. “We only have a few minutes before the nurse comes back,” a female voice said. The bright lights flicked on, I covered my mouth as the headache came back. “Don’t you dare scream,” another female voice said. I was manhandled onto all fours as my diaper was pulled down and a sharp slap connected with my rear end forcing a muffled scream into the hand. A few moments passed before I felt a cold liquid smeared around my butt hole and then a foreign object forced into it. I screamed again into the hand, followed by another sharp smack on my rear end and the object finished entering. It took a few seconds but then I felt liquid entering me. It was an enema. I tried to move but the amazon’s arms held me in place. I couldn’t do anything but squirm and take it. It was then, Shelly Henning sat on the bed in front of me, a large smile on her face. “Hi baby,” she said. She wasn’t trying to hide her pleasure in my pain. “I know you’ve been having trouble going during the daytime so this should help. The enema is mostly water but there are a few chemicals to help you. It’s the same thing my mother gives to her littles to ensure they make poopies.” ‘Ugh’ she went on and on about littles in need of parents to take care of them. It was when the enema was near the end that her real motivation came about. “Now, I want you to thank me for the enema and helping to keep you healthy.” I was mad. I didn’t want to say it but all it took was whoever was behind me twisting the nozzle and I gave in, “thank you” I said “for keeping me healthy by giving me this enema.” “Your welcome baby. Now you can do me a favor as repayment for this kindness.” The nozzle was being pulled…slowly. The pain was excruciating. Not just the pressure on my bladder but the pain on my butthole. As she spoke the girls finished removing the enema bulb and lifted the diaper back in place. “I know you act very smart baby boy. You make good grade but you spend way too much time trying not to mess your pants. Still, I need your mind. I want you to hack the school’s auto closet.” That was an odd request. I mean the thing is essentially a computer but why in the world would you want to hack a fancy closet? It doesn’t keep any valuable records (credit cards or passwords). Al it can do is change clothes. I pondered this, why would a stuck up girl like Shelly care about getting access to a machine that changes clothes? Humiliation? Maybe. But if that was true, it would mean she wasn’t to humiliate more than one person. Shelly acted like the queen bee of the school but she isn’t. Pretty-yes, smart-yes, conniving-oh yes but as for being on top of the social hierarchy of the school-maybe just outside of the top ten. A smack on my diapered bottom jostled my heavy bladder and brought me back to reality. Shelly was telling me she wanted complete access to the auto-closet and she wanted access by the next week. I didn’t want to do it. For one it was a crime as it was a functioning tool of the school. Second, by tampering with it, it would be a crime against the company that made it as it violated their warranty policy. I had to figure out something to do. All I could think of was stalling. “Shelly, it can’t be done in a week. The safety firewalls are adaptive algorithms that change every second. It would take me three weeks to calculate them on any computer to get past them.” She showed little to no interest in my words. Another smack on my diaper and she chided me for trying to make excuses and not do this little favor for her. I simply replied that I would do it only if she gave me the right amount of time to get it done. After a few more seconds of pleading she finally agreed but if I didn’t deliver as soon as possible she would be back with super suppositories. She and her two friends left with the enema bag and when the door she it was like they were never there. My bladder was hurting, my butt was tingling with heat and my head was hurting from the added stress. I waited there with every muscle in my butt clenched to keep everything inside. It was a losing battle and if I didn’t do something soon I was going to go into the diaper. That would be all anyone needs to demerit me and send me to the principle for discipline. Or worse, regression. After the nurse came in, surprise on her face more than anything that I wasn’t regressed, she checked my vitals again. It took everything in my power to not cry out when she drew blood. The resident doctor checked me over and said I was good to go back to class. I walked out into the hallway, a little shaky but nothing terrible, but every single step is making my but hurt. With people moving about the hallways I didn’t dare make a run for the bathroom; I would be stopped just before I could ever enter. I can tell some of the amazon women are watching me. Like they knew something was going to happen to him, waiting for it to happen. I walked with purpose toward the stairs until I felt a hand take mine and jerk me toward the elevator. Before I could even notice what happened the elevator doors were closing and a ping announced over the elevator. Thank you Ms. Parker I looked up to see Rosalie looking at me with equal parts worry and anger. Turned out Rosalie had heard about it what happened to me and had come to see me but overheard Shelly and her threats. She heard what they were doing to me and hid before anyone else could see her. “Where are we going?” I asked. “The home economics class is empty this period, the nurse leaves the door unlocked in the event a little has an accident. It would be better to do it there, no one on that side of the floor for until after lunch. The elevator pinged and we stepped out, heading left to the home economics room. I never thought I would enter this room ever again after freshmen year. The smell of baby powder and wipes is a permanent stain in this room. Rosalie led me to the private office where its own private bathroom was at. It was a little bigger than me. Rosalie laid an adaptation on top of the toilet. “I have to use this sometimes. Some amazon toilets are too big even for me. I didn’t ask or reason that I was using her toilet seat. My bowels constricted and in truth the idea that I was dropping my pants in front of a girl was just gone. I couldn’t get the diaper off, I didn’t have my tools with me. So I just sat on the adapter…diaper and all. Rosalie pulled my shirt off at the last second before it happened. BLLLLLLUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!!! It all came rushing out. A watery mess that felt sticky on my rear end. My eyes were closed and the mess just kept coming. After several minutes the diaper must’ve reached capacity because it leaked out of the diaper and into the toilet. It wasn’t just that, oddly a sense of relief washed over me as my bowls cleared. Maybe even a euphoric feeling, which was quickly replaced with disgust at the fact that the diaper held most of the mess against me. I was panting. I was exhausted from all of this. Not to mention that my head was still hurting and I was only in a diaper in front of a girl. It was then I looked up to see Rosalie had stepped out of the bathroom sometime in my blowout. I took a sigh of relief at that until I realized she was going to see and smell it when she came back in. After moments of silence and the last trickle came out; I just sat there and waited. “Are you done?” she called. At first I nodded before realizing I didn’t say much of anything. “Yes” I said. “Ok, well don’t freak out, but this is the best way to clean you.” The door opened and in walked a nannybot. I panicked, trying to move but the full diaper just sloshed around and more came out of the leg holes but it threw me of balance. The nannybot was dressed in a maids outfit, all forest green with white frills and apron. Most nanny bots have the same stock face, like mannequins in a store. Modeled after some famous actress years ago. Unlike fancier nanny bots, this one was on wheels, moving smoothly as it approached and picked me up. It was an odd sensation and at first me fear kicked it at this. Being taken to the changing table. The Nanny bot removed the diaper, dropping it into the waste, before taking me to the large sink for bathing infants. A steady stream of warm water washed over me as the nanny bot scrubbed me from head to toe, taking intense care around my privates. While being manhandled I noticed Rosalie watching the ordeal from beside the bot. “Relax Aaron, its ok,” she said softly. “It’s the most efficient way to clean you.” By this point the bath was over and I was being dried. “I don’t want this thing to go too far” I said. “Relax, I gave it the instructions. Just let the bot do its thing and it will be over soon,” she replied. Being dry I was whisked back to the changing table where all of the straps were used. A vial of liquid was massaged into my skin for a few seconds before wiping me down. Then the bot lifted my legs, a baby wipe going over my rear side that was when I noticed my hair was gone. “Oh crap, now I’m hairless like a little” I said. “In case you forgot, Aaron, you are a little,” Rosalie replied. Baby powder patted into my butt before I was wrapped back into a diaper. The diaper snug against my skin. It wasn’t a super thick diaper but it was definitely more than the pampers I usually wear. In no time I was redressed in my school uniform before the nannybot returned to its station and began recharging. ‘Huh’ I thought, “usually nannybots are all cooing and baby talk, it was almost weird not hearing it talk.” “My parents had a nannybot for me when I was a child,” Rosalie said. “One of the first things I learned was the speech centers. I couldn’t stand it as a kid. I used to leave my room at night to tinker with it.” She gestured to the nannybot while I slipped my backpack on, “fortunately this one obeys commands.” My impression of Rosalie was definitely raised at this point. My headache getting less and less but it was still there. We walked out of the room, the hallway now empty as classes had begun. She elbowed me in the side in a playful manner. This was actually a bit of fun, being out in the hallways during class time. A little bit of a rebellion, for someone like me who lives strictly by the rules, it’s a very freeing moment. The same feeling when you have a holiday off. Down the stairs we reached the junction, her class was the opposite direction from me, “I’m going this way,” she said. “I’m this way,” I motioned in the opposite direction. “Well I have to say this was exciting compared to a normal school day. Glad I could help.” “Hey, Rosalie…thank you,” I was turning away from her when the quick patter of feet came up behind me. All of a sudden Rosalie kissed me, on the cheek, but she kissed me. Then ran off down the hallway. Shock was the only word I could think of. “It would appear Ms. Parker likes you” Morph’s voice snapped me out of my daze and forced me back to reality and to my waiting class. After handing the teacher the nurse’s note I took my seat and set about taking notes on everything. Thinking on Shelly’s threat of physical harm if I didn’t hack the auto-closet. The attempted regression by the nursing staff. Being manhandled by a nannybot in front of a pretty girl and yet, that kiss kept popping up at random. Toward the end of the class the school announcements were being read overhead. Our schools basketball team was apparently on track to win another championship, which was conflicting. On the one hand I’m glad our school is doing well but on the other hand I’ve never been to a single game. Littlest were not allowed to attend sporting events without a parent (adopted or biological) or a guardian. No little wanted that as it would go to the amazons head that the little in question was wanting to be adopted and would therefore have no need to watch the game. Especially after a little in my sophomore year attended a volleyball game and was adopted and diapered before the match was even half done. Someone had poured water down her clothes and made it look like she wet herself, or so I was told by my fellow littles. Speaking of littles, we are down to just three of us. Kevin had made the mistake of believing an amazon who’d invited him to a party at their house. Don’t get me wrong, there was a party, there was also alcohol and plenty of amazon females. Within an hour, LPS and police arrived, Kevin was deemed to put himself into harm’s way and that clearly made him having a case of maturosis. Elizabeth Burkhart, daughter of the home economics teacher ended up adopting Kevin. There was nothing that could be done. Bree made sure to usher me toward him when Elizabeth brought him to school as the home economics aid (a position I’d been force to do my freshmen year). The sad part of that was I was forced to do it, but because I was the aid, I didn’t actually participate in the class and the teacher gave me a B-. I looked on as I saw Kevin suffering the same fate. His new mommy and grandmother could force him to do this year after year. With announcements over, so was class. I knew word had gotten around school, though Tagger’s fate was unknown to me. Still I moved quickly through the hallways, Bree will be looking for me, but for this last period we are not together, if I can get down to the second level and I n the classroom I will be in the clear— I was whisked up in the air and my face was planted against a woman’s chest. “Oh Aaron, you’ve had me so worried” Bree cried out. A quick movement and a door shutting and I found myself sitting on a counter top, my head even with Bree’s boobs. She was poking and prodding my head, searching my face and hair for any sign of bruising. Bree herself looked like she’d been crying for a while now. Some of her mascara was runny and teardrops lay on the collar of her shirt. “My god, are you hurt? Did he hurt you? What did the doctor say? Are you in pain? Do you need a new diaper?” The endless sea of questions were pouring out of Bree and it seemed every few seconds she would embrace me in a tight hug as if to assure herself that I was still here. “You’re crushing my head in your hugs Bree and I still have a headache,” I managed to say in between hugs. Bree released me and after a few calming breaths she smiled. I confirmed that I was ok. I also thanked her for her concerns but I really was ok. Bree touched up her makeup and carried me to my last class. She was almost reluctant to let me go. After class she Bree insisted on a last diaper change but honestly I thinks she was looking for a reason to check on me again. ~*~ Over the weekend I spent majority of time working on Shelly’s request. Since there was no evidence it would be my word against Shelly’s and no matter how smart I am, amazons will not simply take my word for it. In fact, with false accusations, it could be declared maturosis. And with the threat of further attacks it seemed easier to just work on it. I set up the code accessing the auto-closet while I set morph to build an app that could set it to a phone. This seemed easier than simply giving Shelly a webpage. That would give more people options to mess with it and I simply wanted Shelly to be the only one doing damage. I took some time to clean, school work. I had some in depth conversations with my lawyers concerning the house being sold, my college dorm has already been paid for. He also set up a video chat with my roommate, and my contract for the end of the year. All in all it was a busy weekend and I still hadn’t finished Shelly’s request. I needed some conversion help in the coding to switch between the sensors and the app. For this I needed to speak with Dylan, he would be more familiar with this code. I mean his project is anti-gravity equations which use conversion algorithms. I need to talk with him and convince him somehow. This upcoming week is Valentines week, ugh, I wish I was sick this week. It’s just too much love. Don’t get me wrong I’ve nothing against it but this week it feels too much. With groceries delivered and everything set out for the week I turned in. It was not peaceful sleep. I woke up several times covered in sweat. Nightmares of being adopted by Shelly or getting thrown into an automated daycare or etiquette school would not let me have a peaceful night’s sleep.

Chapter 10: One on One The LETO Syndicate – LittleFallenPrincess ‘Poor Sarah…’ I thought to myself, as the Headmistress carried me down the hallways and into her office. She didn’t even put me in a stroller like our Nanny does, she just carried me the whole way in her arms, my legs still wrapped around her hips. It still shocked me how strong she was. I pushed the jealousy I felt towards Brian getting to do… that… with Sarah to the back of my mind, as the Headmistress closed the door behind her and walked over to a lone seat in the middle of the room. I waited for her to place me in it… but she walked right past it, over to her modern white desk and office chair, sitting down and placing me on her lap facing her. I had a quick look around whilst she adjusted herself and got comfortable in her seat. This office was… very bare. It was white and modern, very minimalistic, very… clinical. I guess it’s to keep up with the rest of the appearance of this being an ‘institute’. Her white desk and large office chair sat at one end of the room, with a couple of personal effects in the corner of the desk next to her mobile phone. In the other corner of the desk stood a touch-screen monitor that was currently on standby. Behind us was an enormous portrait of the complex from the outside. In the corner was a bookshelf full of books and textbooks. A large red rug spanned most of the centre of the room, adding the only bit of colour to this monochromatic office. And aside from the chair in the centre of the room facing us… that was it. I was expecting… more. “Aww sweetie…” She said to me, putting her hand to my cheek and cupping it slightly. Instinctively I pressed against her hand and felt a warm, comforting sensation fill my heart. “I’m sorry I missed out on our other one-on-ones this week, darling. I had a lot of business to attend to. Has Nanny been good to you?” “I… uh huh…” I replied nervously. Her posture, her face… even her smell made me feel weird around her. “Good. Can’t have my prize baby getting treated badly. I’m glad I assigned her to you, she seems to have a good head on her.” “She… she’s nice.” I replied. I don’t know why I was sticking up for our Nanny, but I guess she was kinda nice… “Oh good. And what’s your little roommate like?” The Headmistress asked, sounding genuinely interested. “Sarah? She’s… nice too.” “You have to tell me a bit more than that, sweetpea...” “I like her. She’s friendly and nice.” “And is she as good as you are?” “She… I think so, yeah.” “So, obviously you won’t remember the previous week and our previous one-on-ones, so let’s catch me up on how your lessons are going. Is Mr Smith doing a good job?” “Doing a good job at turning us into babies? Yeah.” “Are you enjoying your lessons?” She asked. “I… umm…” “Be honest.” “Uh huh…” I replied, feeling like I had to tell the truth. Or at least the truth she wanted to hear. “You don’t sound so sure.” “I… don’t like that he puts hypnosis in our heads that can make us… you know…” “Oh, the thing I just saved you from?” “...Yeah.” I mumbled. “I think it’s cute. I would have liked to have seen you hump your roommates nappy…” She grinned down at me. I blushed and looked away from her face, but ended up catching myself staring at her rather large breasts that her open blouse was making very obvious. “I…” “Don’t worry, I’ll feed you in a bit. Just need to finish these questions and then I can feed you. Then I’ll get you back to class. I wish I could keep you here for longer, but you need to be in your classes.” I snapped back to my senses and looked up at her. “Why… Why hypnosis?” I asked. “Why not just force us to be babies? The injections make us helpless as it is… Or why not just hypnotise us the whole way?” “Because I don’t want mind-controlled babies, sweetheart. And I don’t want little brats who will make our client’s lives difficult. I want babies that slowly accept their place and actually enjoy it.” “I… guess that makes sense.” I replied. “So are the other babies following your excellent example?” “I… some of them are playing, yeah.” “Such a good girl! And you did that all by yourself too, I didn’t have a single part in you doing that!” She said, making the butterflies in my tummy happy again. “Is that it? No more questions?” I asked, nervously. “Does Nanny Alice ask you anything else? She’s had you the past few days whilst I’ve been busy, I want to make sure she’s doing her job.” “Umm… I don’t think so.” “How about you? Do you have any questions for me?” “Umm… do you know what this ‘special punishment’ is?” I asked, hoping she’d answer. Her face turned serious all of a sudden. “And who is punishing you?” She asked, sternly… as if she was ready to murder someone. “Oh… no one… yet.” “Oh good. Wait, yet?” “Mr Smith… he put us in teams. I’m on the Red Team with Sarah and another couple of girls. Over the week we earn points at the end of each day, basically for acting like the best babies. We… are winning.” “Good girl!” She smiled. “If we win, we get special privileges next week. The losing team gets a special punishment.” “Is that so…?” She trailed off. “If I know Mr Smith… and I really do… that is going to be a punishment you definitely don’t want.” She said, winking at me. “I mean if he forcefully made Sarah and Brian… you know… yeah, I think you’re right.” I replied. I felt like I could talk with her like this forever. The way she talks, her smile… I was smitten. “Oh, before I forget, you need to do a couple of tests for me, sweetpea. Just basic English and Maths to make sure you’re progressing well. Why don’t you turn and do them on my desk whilst I brush your hair?” The Headmistress suggested. “I… guess…” “Good girl.” She said, slowly turning me around on her lap, placing a familiar test and a pencil in front of me. “And then we’ll get you some lunch and back in your class.” I blushed at the thought of nursing from her. Not going to lie… it definitely made the test harder to complete when I couldn’t concentrate. “Good job, babygirl!” She said, turning me back around once I had finished. The hairbrushing whilst I was completing the test… was nice. I always loved having my hair brushed. But now it was time. Time for… lunch. Positioning me gently in her arms, my legs hanging over the edge of the chair arm, she held my head close to her breast as she undid the few remaining buttons on her blouse and began to nurse me. I was used to the milk by now, but it still… OKAY FINE, IT FELT GOOD! I’ll admit it! I loved it! Happily nursing on her breasts, I lost myself again and drifted off into my own little happy headspace as time passed and my nappy grew thicker… and warmer… and wetter. “D’aww, I’ll definitely have to change you before getting you to class… actually, no! I think it’ll be cuter if you go back with your soaked nappy.” The Headmistress laughed. I blushed at her decision, but I continued nursing and pushed everything that the past week and a half had thrown at us to the back of my mind. After ‘lunch’, I was swiftly returned to class, with a quick kiss on the cheek by the Headmistress, followed up with a quick pat on my padded bum as I waddled into the classroom and fell over, my fall softened by the plush carpet. Once the Headmistress left, I looked around at a class full of embarrassed adults, all in soggy nappies… looking exhausted. “Oh hello little Judy. You just missed out.” Mr Smith said, looking directly at me. ‘Damn…’ I thought to myself. I hadn’t had any action since before we arrived, so part of me wanted to be included. “Though I guess little Sarah could go again…” He grinned. Sarah, exhausted already, looked up at Mr Smith, then at me, with her eyes wide open in shock. Shaking her head, she was just about to plead as Mr Smith opened his mouth. “Sarah, Judy… happy time…” Day 5 Okay so yesterday really changed things between me and Sarah. After Mr Smith… made us rub our nappies together… I’m not gonna lie, it was awkward. We kept our distance a bit for the rest of the day, until that evening, when we were alone in our crib together… and she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. We edged our bodies closer together, feeling the warmth of one another as our faces lay next to each other, our noses touching. It was then… that she took the initiative and kissed me. Like… actually kissed me. In this bleak situation, being kidnapped and regressed and humiliated… having something slightly normal felt even better than it used to. She quickly retracted and blushed, but before she could backtrack on this and start doubting everything, I quickly pressed my lips against hers and kissed her back. And for the remainder of the night, we snuggled happily together, trying desperately to push everything that was going on around us to the back of our minds so we could enjoy it. I woke up to yet another wet nappy, and a sleeping Sarah with her head lay on my shoulder, sucking her dummy and drooling slightly. “D’aww, she’s adorable!” Alice said, bending down over the crib. “I’ll leave you two for a bit longer, there's no rush today, it’s still early.” I thanked Alice and rested my head on Sarah’s, stroking her hair, enjoying this time we had together. So yes… Day 5. Painting! They brought out a bunch of paper and laid it all out on the floor, and gave us access to lots of paint. Problem was… we weren’t given brushes. At first everyone was looking around, trying to find the brushes. But it wasn’t until I slapped my hand in the yellow paint and then on the paper on the floor that people realised what we were expected to do. Sarah quickly followed suit and dipped her hand in the red paint, before slapping it down on the paper next to where my handprint was. Slowly but surely, more people joined in and started enjoying themselves. Even Brian, the grumpy gus, joined in and looked like he was actually enjoying himself. At one point I tapped the tip of Sarah’s nose, putting a red dot of paint on it. She smiled and retaliated by rubbing her nose against the side of my face… and before you knew it… a paint fight erupted. The nannies didn’t stop us, neither did Mr Smith. They just watched and smiled, though Brian flicked some paint towards Mr Smith, which earned him a spanking. We made sure to keep our paint fight contained to ourselves, as we now knew what would happen if we tried getting any on the grown ups. It was a lot of fun… until I freaked out a bit when I knocked over a paint pot onto part of the carpet that wasn’t covered up. I tried rubbing it out but it got worse and worse, seeping into the fibres and spreading around more. When a Nanny, whose name I had no knowledge of, came over to see what had happened, I… may have blamed it on someone else. I didn’t name names or anything, I just said it must have been someone else. Thankfully that seemed to work, I got out of a spanking and no one else got punished for it. And then once we were all tuckered out, we were taken out of the room by our Nannies. Sarah and I were taken by Alice to a small room we had never entered before. Turns out… It was a bathroom. With a bath big enough for two grown adults. So you can see where this is going… sitting there, naked, alongside Sarah, who was also naked… It was awkward. At least it was with Alice still kneeling there by the side of the bath. If only she’d bugger off for a bit… maybe I’d get some action. But no, Alice washed us carefully, making sure to get all the paint out of our hair and off our faces. Draining the tub, she wrapped us up in a big towel and lifted us up one at a time, placing us on the changing table inside the bathroom, before proceeding to put us in a really thick nappy. The rest of the day? We spent it playing in the playpen, followed by another one-on-one with the Headmistress, which went exactly how it did yesterday, before being put in the crib with Sarah, the two of us snuggling even closer than previously. Day 6 One more day of this and then we get reverted back to our normal speech and we get more control of our bodies. And maaaybe this need to suckle everything put in my mouth will go. It was getting annoying now. But yes. Day six was another day of playing in the classroom. Followed by yet another one-on-one. Whilst I was off with the Headmistress, Alice went off somewhere with Sarah. I wondered if Sarah was having the same questions and the same treatment as I was. Day 7 Freedom! Finally! After the past 6 days, we all knew that we had to appreciate this ‘adult’ time we were given. Even if we were still treated like babies and wore babyish clothes and thick nappies… we were at least given some freedom and all the hypnosis and whatever they pumped into us was erased. Well, everything but the incontinence. That apparently wasn’t going away. So after we had the shots and the flash of hypnosis by the nurse, Sarah and I were pushed towards the play room. I wondered what they were going to humiliate us with this time, as we had been fully conscious all week, unlike the newborn week. I guess there was that day Mr Smith made us hump each other in wet nappies. That would be pretty bad. But no, instead we passed the playroom and carried on further into the complex, towards the classroom. Sarah and I looked at each other in confusion as Alice continued walking, not explaining what was going on or anything, as she reached the classroom door and pushed it open. “Ah, our final two. Right, Alice, if you would be so kind, just place them on the floor for the announcement.” Mr Smith said, standing in front of his desk, leaning back against it with his bum resting on the edge, his arms crossed and his sleeves rolled up showing his very hairy arms. “Yes Mr Smith.” Alice replied, unbuckling us from the stroller and lifting us out, Sarah first then me, and placing us on the floor with the others. We sat patiently as Alice walked out with the stroller, leaving us all alone with Mr Smith. I held out my hand to Sarah, who clutched it and began squeezing it. “So… I bet you’re all wondering which team won…” He grinned. ========================================================= I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next four chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of LETO Syndicate every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

"Is it true blondes have more fun?"

Finally changed out of my dirty nappy (very thoroughly cleaned and creamed hehe) but wish I could have kept it on longer! I did two big poos in it, one on the firmer side but still pliable (and very fun for bouncing on) and one very soft mushy one, which got smushed up and filled the back of my nappy. It was the biggest poo I have ever done in a nappy or in my knickers. I stayed in it for 7 hours, waddling around, doing farts and wees on top of my mess, sitting in it and smooshing it, doing little bounces on my big pooey mound, humping a body pillow and humping the pile of poo. Super smelly but I actually found that hot for once. When i took my dirty nappy off, there was a big ball of poo in the seat of the nappy and smushed up the back, which about the size of two apples and then a big fat log the size of a banana (haha with the fruit references) that had pushed down the front and filled the gusset. This was the poo I had been humping. By far my fullest, messiest, smelliest nappy (or knickers!) to date but also the first one where clean up actually felt worth it. Definitely a mess I will remember for a long time!

I haven't been much of a video game player. Some years ago, I received a Christmas gift of Sid Meier's Civilization II. That shows you how long it has been since that game is no longer supported. I think the game is up to VI now. My latest interest is Hogwarts Legacy. I've been a huge Harry Potter fan for a number of years, though I did sort of show up late for the ball. Anybody else play that game? How are you doing? Me, I'm finding out just how bad my combat skills (read keyboard manipulation in the dark) really are after having some early successes. Next week I'll have the house to myself for a couple of days. I'm planning on a marathon diapered game playing session. That'll be fun!

Change me.

I am wearing a wet and messy tykables overnight diaper. Will definitely be getting my diaper changed soon.

My diaper would say "SHEEE-IT what a mess!"

I’m in a thoroughly soaked, formerly white Megamax which I am currently wetting for the fourth time. It’s very squishy and it feels like a good diaper should (warm, wet and squishy). I’m hoping it’ll last long enough for me to poop in it before I have to go home for a diaper change. Update: I did poop in my diaper but when I peed after I pooped in it it leaked all over my jeans (it took about 3 seconds of me peeing before it started leaking, so I beelined out of the mall and headed for my car and by the time I got there my inner legs were completely soaked as well as my entire crotch so I drove home and as soon as mommy saw me she took me to the bedroom for a much needed diaper change.

Yeah, the Empathy Center and crazy mom plot line is from your suggestions. They’ll be back in the story, trust me. Maturosis is as real as it’s allowed to be. It’s in the Amazon textbooks after all. No self-destruction for Kay. He’s a survivor. He’s been through this kind of thing before, and he’ll get out on the other side. At least he thinks he will. Who knows? The Amazons could be right about this Betweener. Maybe he’s a little more like a Little than a Big, and if he’s struggling at school and relationships, maybe he’s been in the wrong place. —— Okay. Sorry for the long wait, life sometimes gets in the way of writing. About Maturosis: I consider this work “fan fiction” on the term. I add my own thoughts to this borrowed terminology, which may not be the same as in other works. Thanks for reading! And thanks for questions and comments! ….. 9 “So… let me get this straight… my brain thinks that I’m a baby?” Despite just peeing his pants, Kaleb felt a wry smile spread across his lips, his innate cynicism was all he had left in this place of madness. “That’s ridiculous,” he made his case to the two Amazons. “100%, totally, ridiculous.” Layla returned his smile like a boomerang, albeit hers was a bit more cruel. “Almost as ridiculous as an eighteen year old who can’t get to the potty on time.” Oh, sweet stepsis was going to use this against him for a very long time, Kaleb was sure of that. He stood awkwardly in the hall as the wetness at his crotch began cool. As the two Amazons waited for him to finish asking questions before they got on with ‘babying’ him, but he wasn’t finished yet. “I would have made it to the ‘toilet’ if I wasn’t being chased,” he corrected his stepsister. “If I wasn’t forced to hold it forever. If I wasn’t trapped in little-locked footie pajamas. I wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if I didn’t agree to this ridiculous test in the first place.” “You didn’t have to hold it forever,” replied Layla. “You only had to hold it for a little bit, even toddlers can hold it for a little bit. Besides, we wanted to help you get to the potty, remember. Unfortunately, potty problems are a big part of Maturosis, so you can’t be too mad at yourself.” “I’m not mad at myself,” he snapped. “I’m mad at you.” Layla glared at him, his stepsister was losing her usual patience. “Alright, Kay-Kay. I’m going to pretend that’s your condition talking, so I won’t recommend starting punishment phase one of the cushioning test. I believe it comes with a “Quiet Time” pacifier, it really has a way of keeping sassy mouths shut.” “Come on!” Kaleb raised his hands in the name of self-defense. “I’m just trying to learn more about my condition. It’s called Maturosis, right? Like from the Cushioning test and your textbook?” “That about sums it up,” replied Layla, she was ready to move onto bigger and better things. “Any more questions?” Kaleb folded his arms across his chest, unmoved. “Can Amazons get Maturosis?” Beckie answered this time. “No, that’s impossible.” He asked, “Why?” “It’s very simple,” answered Layla. “Our neuroscience is different, but you’re too Little to understand the differences, so I’m not going to waste our time teaching you. Besides, you’re in serious need of a bath — and something better in terms of protection.” Kaleb remained unconvinced, and since a forced diapering seemed to be on the horizon, he felt whatever fight still within him bubble up again. “That’s way too convenient to be believable. You’ve always wanted to treat me like a baby, ever since our parents married. Now, I’ve suddenly got some invisible mental disease with symptoms straight from your textbook, and the only solutions have been your designs on me from day one.” Beckie sighed. “You’re paranoid, Kay.” Unable to say it any better, Layla offered him a cheeky smirk before turning her attention from her stepbrother to her lab assistant. “Beckie, I’m going to leave you to give him his bath. I’ll set up everything you need afterwards in his room. There will be an Escalated detector-protector as well as some new clothes more fitting the social emotional level. We need more data on his ideal wardrobe level, maybe that will slow the descent. Try to remember that the test isn’t over so we’re still following protocol.” Her friend winked back. “Got it, chief.” Now that his objections had been rejected, Beckie gripped him by his forearm and began to drag him the short trip towards the bathroom. The cheerleader was strong enough to take him anywhere she wanted, but he was still trying to be ‘unmoved’. Kaleb dug his monkey feet into the carpet and turned to see his stepsister enter his bedroom. He may have been mistaken, but he thought he saw her pull a very diaper-y looking folded disposable from the diaper bag. “Hey, wait…” Kaleb began to panic. “This is way too convenient!” He anchored himself the best that he could, turning and twisting towards his bedroom, trying to see what his stepsister was doing. “Too convenient!” he yelled again over his shoulder. “Come up with something better at least! Something believable!” “Okay…” Beckie repositioned herself in front of him. “I didn’t want to do this… but you’ve left me no choice.” In a flash, Beckie dropped to one knee and snaked both of her arms around his legs, tackling him at the waist. The Amazon dipped her body as she made contact, her shoulders pressed into his belly, prying him up from the floor, and lifting him up over her shoulder in one continuous motion. “Help! Ahhh! Stop!” Kaleb yelled at the top of his lungs as he rose from the ground, kicking and screaming. “Put me down! Put me down! Put me down!” “Alright, you little stinker,” Beckie said as she fought his flailing attempts to escape. “We got to take a bath and take off that yucky pull-up. So what do you say, soggy britches?” He growled at her, “I’d say that you should put me down.” Kaleb pushed at her with both hands, but she was far too strong for him. Beckie booped his nose with her own, almost like cute kiss without involving the lips. She wiggled her finger in front of his face as she taunted him. “No can do, baby,” Beckie said softly. When they entered the bathroom, Beckie placed a scowling Kaleb atop the sink counter, and left him there to watch, as she closed the door to the hall and turned the knobs to the Amazon sized bathtub. Soon the air was filled with rising steam and the shrill whistling of hot water leaving the tap. The bathroom was mostly white with tiny square tiles for flooring, the wallpaper was blend of sunflowers, and other kinds of various flowers, mixed with the occasional bee or butterfly. The decor was old and came with the house, but no one took the time to upgrade the kid's space. Neither Kaleb or Layla complained about the amenities, the huge bathtub on the far wall worked perfectly for the two of them. The small room was the perfect spot for a waiting game. Beckie used the time to catch her breath, so Kaleb did the same. The moment was like a break between rounds of a boxing match, so far Kaleb seemed to be losing, but he hadn’t had a ten count yet. Or that’s what he told himself. He kept a one close eye on the Amazon, the other darting between the tub and the door, just waiting for what would happen next. The tiny room felt emptier than usual. Colder among the tiles, darker in every corner; and all the while, the warm water in the tub rose higher and higher. When it got high enough, Beckie turned the knob again, and checked the temperature with her hand. Then she smiled. “Let’s get you out of those icky boy pajamas and get you nice, and fresh, and clean.” Kaleb thought about irony as she undressed him. He passively resisted the whole way like he always did. Kaleb arched his back, repeatedly told her to ‘stop’, and extended both hands and feet like an octopus with rigor mortis. Of course, he recognized the silliness of all the charade, he was going to be naked whether he wanted to be or not. Just five minutes ago, as he blissfully sat on Beckie’s ample lap doing two tests at the same time, he would have done anything to get out the monkey footsie. Now, he was doing his ‘darnedest’ to keep the pajamas on his body. That’s Irony with a capital ‘I’. The way she worked him out of his clothing was almost impressive, if it wasn’t so scary. Beckie flipped him around and unzipped the researched based pajamas, then she freed his arms and yanked out his legs. One hand wrapped tightly around his wrist so he couldn’t escape, while the other shot straight for the waistline of his soggy DP. “Wow…” she said as she thumbed at the padding of the choo-choo pull-up. “You really soaked this thing, Kay.” And before he could say - ‘No, don’t’, she had ripped them free from his hips. Now that its job was done, the day one detector-protector was wrapped into a thick wet ball, and deposited inside the small trash can that hid behind the toilet. Kaleb was now naked. And in front of a girl. His bare chest was red from exertion and shame, same with his face, every part of him flushed. A full body blush blossomed as Beckie eyed him up and down. The happy-go-lucky Amazon cheerleader let her gaze do the talking, more like walking, as she took her time giving him a go-over. Kaleb was a bit self-conscious of her roaming eyes, where they lingered, where they circled the slight curves of his body. Beckie chided him, “Did you know that covering nakedness is a sign of Maturosis?” He looked down at the his hands cupped over his most private of places, still unmoved. Kaleb glowered at the Amazon. “It would be, wouldn’t it?” Beckie toyed with the small canvas bag that was the same color as the other Cushioning test bag, a mix of shale grey and shame. Kaleb assumed it was for his bath, and he was right. She opened the zipper and pulled free three different bottles of shampoo and liquid soap, all childish, all claiming to be tear free, all colorful and plastic. “You don’t have to believe me,” Beckie said with a shrug. “The behavior has something to do with potty anxiety and the inability to cope with a diapered state. We haven’t got to that part in class yet, but I like to read ahead like Layla.” “I don’t care what your textbook says,” he said, then he twisted his body away from her prying eyes. “Well, you should.” Beckie silently read the backs of a few the bottles, and began lining them up alongside the tub. “It may be able to tell you things about yourself. If I happened to be in trouble, or had a condition, I’d like to know what was going to happen to me.” She paused for effect. “But that’s just me.” Despite his mental objections, and there were plenty, Beckie made a decent point. If this Maturosis was going to be used against him, he would do himself a favor by learning its ‘ins and outs’. “Fine… fine… tell me how wrong I was born,” he said with a huff. “Make sure to leave in the good parts so I know just how messed up I am. It will be a perfect cherry on a sundae kind of day.” “You’re something special, Kaleb, you really are,” Beckie chuckled as she finished prepping her washing station. “You literally have a cheerleader wanting to see you naked, and you keep covering yourself up. You have no idea how many boys send pictures of their things to me — unsolicited, I might add.” Kaleb swallowed hard, his usual bashful nature presented itself within the palpitations of his heart, he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation at this moment. “I didn’t think that I was your ‘dating type’. I’m a Betweener, remember? I’m smaller than your average boyfriend.” “Well…” Beckie drew out her words, then dipped her delicate fingers into the warm tub. “How could I see you as dating material if you don’t even see yourself that way?” “I’m going to need an explanation,” Kaleb said as he felt the cold room seep into him. “I’ll give you one,” Beckie said as she flicked warm water onto his bare chest. “But first, I’m going to need cooperation. Remove the hands, then get in the bath, and we can talk.” Talk? All they did was talk. He was naked, and cold, and shivering. The world around him was topsy-turvy, as if the globe decided to spin at twice the speed and in the opposite direction, and all she wanted to do was talk. To make things worse, Beckie’s eyes kept glancing at spots they shouldn’t glance at, forcing him to hide himself with both hands. This was a bad place to be, and Kaleb had no clue how to get out. He looked back at her with wide eyes, still unmoved. “Remove the hands, Kay,” Beckie ordered with a soft voice. “Just leave them by your side, there’s no shame in being naked — that’s your Maturosis lying to you.” Surprisingly, he did what he was told. Maybe it was the mentioning of that Maturosis word. He brought his shaking hands from his crotch, bringing them to his hips with fists clenched, but he still refused to meet eyes with Beckie. Especially since she ogled his naked body like he was an unwrapped present just ready to be re-wrapped in thicker underwear. What exactly did she see in him? Kaleb was a mostly skinny Tweener. Not broad chested and square shouldered like his Big father. He was lean but not lanky, short but not a Little, more feminine and delicate than masculine and strong; but he kept his girly aspects hidden by being dirty and grimy, with baggy jeans and black t-shirts and an ‘unstyled’ mop of dark hair that just sat on his head. Speaking of hair, he had some body hair in the usual places. Unlike the Littles, they tended to be hairless around the diaper parts, almost as if they were bred that way. At least that’s how he saw them when they were changed in public, he had tried not to look or stare, it was sorta rude after all. But as they lay legs spread during a diaper change, skirt lifted up or pants pulled down, it was hard not to sneak a glance. As for Kaleb, there were thick patches of dark curls beneath his arms, at his crotch, a small path traveling to his navel, and a smattering at the butt crack. Not much hairiness on his chest, however. Which was fine, because a hairy chest was very out of fashion and had been for awhile. And Beckie saw every bit of everything. “I don’t think I like the body hair,” concluded the pixie cheerleader. “It’s kinda yucky, but everything else is nice. Very nice. Hop in the tub.” Kaleb felt his mouth dry. “But…” “No buts!” Beckie giggled and brought out a large empty plastic cup. “No buts except your cute butt in the bathtub.” For some reason he complied, maybe he was just tired of fighting, maybe he was ready for it all to end. Maybe it could all be blamed on the invisible sponge. Either way, Kaleb found himself moving as if driven by someone else. He lifted one leg into the tub, then the other, then he plopped his butt right into the waist deep water. The hot bath felt nice, he was still shivering, just not as much as as before. At least Beckie appeared pleased with his cooperation, even while he sat cross-cross applesauce with a permanent frown on his face. “We will do your hair first,” she said as she prepared one of the bottles, “then we will do a nice body wash. I think you’ll like the soft scrubbing, everyone loves being pampered.” “Okay…” Kaleb’s voice sounded tired and gravelly, a reflection of his rough night and rougher morning. “You said that you’d explain things to me?” Beckie grimly nodded as she dunked the large plastic cup into the bath and brought it out to the sound of slushing water. “Yes, but first, lift your head back for me, and stare at the ceiling — cup.” The sudden rush of water over his head was quite the experience. Strangely both hot and cold, comforting and exciting, dreadful and demeaning, all at once. Kaleb was panting from the experience, bathwater dripped from his longer hair and nose, and he shook his head like a dog as he recovered. “Alright, Kaleb… let’s answer some of your questions,” Beckie said as she reloaded her dumping cup. “Maturosis manifests itself in different ways. It can be gradual, it can be immediate, it can be inherited, and it can be adopted. Cup.” Another hot flash of warm water rocked over him, long strands of his hair ‘plastered’ over his eyes, he raked them free as he choked upon the bathwater that got into his mouth. Beckie scolded him, “I told you to lift your head back. Cup.” Another pour came, he quickly lifted his chin skyward, and this time the water cascaded down the back of his neck. “You know what a downward spiral is, Kay?” Kaleb nodded, trickles and droplets ran down his face. “That’s Maturosis — a process that takes Littles, and sometimes recessive Betweeners, backwards in time. Not physically, of course. Mentally. A mental downward spiral that can also be called Regression. Cup.” Water kept coming, but he kept focused on her words. “So, Maturosis is a downward spiral,” Beckie continued to explain as she put aside her plastic cup. “And a social-emotional level is a flat line between proper behavior at an appropriate age. When it’s aligned against a diagnosis of Maturosis, it represents a kind of strata similar to a plateau.” “I’m not good at geography,” Kaleb muttered, then licked a few droplets from his lips. Beckie giggled. “You don’t have to be — you’re good at being cute.” The way she smiled at him gave him butterflies despite all of this ‘downward spiral’ topic of conversation. “Maturosis isn’t like other conditions, there are countless nuances, and each case may be different than the next. There are so many reasons for Littles to end up back in diapers. You see, Kay, that’s the problem: You’re fifty-percent Little. Like it or not, it’s important that you learn to control your Little emotions, your childish tendencies, your potty habits. Otherwise, you’re going to end up in their same kind of trouble. That’s the first step in understanding how a social emotional levels work, recognizing your problematic Little-side.” For the first time in a long time, Kaleb paid attention to her textbook talk, mostly because it sounded super important. It was brain science like with the Beta-Alpha-Beta-Upsilon wave readers, it was inside of him like an imaginary canoe ride, it was an explanation for the invisible magic sponge of potential energy. He closed his eyes to bring it all into focus. Thinking about Maturosis was like navigating a maze inside his head. Every time he thought he could find a way out, he found himself surrounded by logical walls. “I still have some questions…” Kaleb said as he heard the patented ‘squirt, squirt’ from the shampoo bottle. Beckie rubbed her hands together, making them all foamy. “Shoot, baby.” With the water finally free from his red eyes, Kaleb looked deep into Beckie, he really needed to know something, so it was time to ask. “Is Maturosis even real?” “Of course it is,” Beckie answered with a beaming smile. “It’s in our textbook.” “I mean,” he said as he watched her closely. “Outside of your text book, in the real world, the place where I live.” “You know what,” she said as her foamy hands reached for the top of his head. “You do way too much thinking. Thinking leads to worrying. Let others do the thinking for you.” Kaleb opened his mouth to object, but her hands were already in his hair. As soon as she made contact, things began to change. Her fingers gently pushed the bad thoughts from his brain and made the walls melt away. Beckie had total control over him; he was a puppet, and those soul-touching scrubbers were the strings. “That’s it, Kay,” Beckie encouraged him with a soft voice. “Try to relax baby, it’s time for you to be pampered. Everyone loves being pampered, and not just Littles.” Her soft touch paralyzed him, but in a good way. The delightful experience sucked whatever argument, or question, or logical reasoning, out of his head via her curling fingers. As she spread the tear-free shampoo across his scalp, Beckie made sure to scratch and massage every bit of his sensitive head. This kind of pampering was sublime, and every bit as intoxicating as her candy perfume. All he could say was, “Ohhhh…” Which made Beckie giggle. “I knew you’d like this, Kay. Stop thinking, start feeling. See where that takes you.” Suddenly, he was transported back in that canoe, this time surrounded by real water. He soaked in the gentle lapping sounds of the lake, he closed his eyes and let the daydream take him deeper, like a psychological cushioning whirlpool that dragged him to relaxing depths he’d never experienced before. The liquid soap smelled like lavender and inner peace, popping pink bubbles rose to the surface of the tub. Next to him, a short-haired mermaid appeared, half-dipped in the water. She was naked except for a pair of sea shells that covered her bountiful breasts, her skin shimmering pale, her eyes dancing radiant. She slowly moved him onto his back, where he floated with ease, uncaring about his nakedness on display. The mermaid rubbed liquid soap on his arms, and legs, running her fingers like a pair of rakes over his chest. Every word from her mouth came out as a soft coo, or gentle encouragement. He was doing so good — the mermaid told him so. “That’s so good, baby.” “Stay still while I clean you up.” “You’re so precious when you’re like this.” Beckie paid extra close attention to his diaper area, soaping up his inner thighs, especially lathering up his special spot between his legs. With a cupped hand, she made sure he was extra clean down there, and Kaleb responded accordingly. Being extra clean felt really, really nice. Then she turned him over, and he was on his hands and knees, almost in a position to crawl away. But he didn’t want to move a muscle, he was drawn tight into this bath like it was a magnet. A natural attraction that lulled him deeper and deeper into sensations altogether too relaxing, or too disarming, and he didn’t even care. Beckie lathered up a pair of fingers and traced them down his spine, sliding them along his exposed bottom. It tickled, in a good way of course. “We need to make sure you’re extra clean back here,” she giggled as she rubbed. Who was he to argue with her? Every spot that she touched made him feel so sensitive. His skin was on fire, not a burning, but delightful, sensational feeling-explosion. The combination of her delicate touch, and the perfect temp water, had his eyes rolling in the back of his head. This bath thing was amazing, the experience was enough to make him forget about everything: the experiment, his stepsister, the fact that he’d just peed his pants minutes before. This relaxing bath was just what he needed, and he strangely felt disappointed when the plastic cup remade its appearance as Beckie finished washing his hair. “Cup. There we go, baby. Again, cup. Now you’re all nice and clean. Was that worth all of the fuss?” Kaleb gently shook his head, his eyes still tightly closed. “It felt nice, actually.” “See what I mean?” Beckie said as she prepped a towel with one hand and pulled him to his feet with the other. “It’s not so bad having someone take care of you, is it?” “No…” Kaleb grimaced as he came to the same conclusion. “It’s not that bad.” The soft pink towel she wrapped around him was one of Layla’s, and it dwarfed him just like his dad’s big chair. He opened his eyes to his surroundings, unsure how long he was in the bath, unsure about a lot of things that had just happened. The bathroom looked the same, boring and poorly decorated. Beckie looked the same, smiling from ear to ear, and judging from her giddiness, barely containing her patented wide-eyed ‘cute aggression’. Kaleb looked down at his own body, which did not look the same, because something felt off, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on the difference. He studied his arms and his chest as Beckie gave him a nice and soft towel scrub. He still couldn’t figure it out. Did he shrink? No. He was the same size, unless the room shrank with him. Kaleb still had two arms and two legs, a pair of blinking, working eyes, and he could wiggle all ten fingers and curl all ten toes. So what made him feel so weird? His question was answered when Beckie pulled the towel away from his exposed front, and with one look down at his special place, he immediately spotted the difference. Kaleb gasped. “What happened to my hair?” Beckie kept rubbing the terry cloth towel in circles at his lower back. “What was that?” “My hair!” he stared at the horror show hanging limp between his legs, frozen from the shock. “Oh that! I styled it with some conditioner,” Beckie began humming, working the towel along his backside. “It was just a nasty mop on top of your head, so I made it look nice and clean, just like this cute, wittle shiny heinie.” “Not the hair up there,” Kaleb indicated towards his bare crotch. “The hair down here! My arms! My legs! I look like a Little!” Beckie clicked her lips, mocking him with a pushy lipped pout. “Quit your complaining, sour-puss. It was all yucky from your pee-pee accident. You don’t get to wet your pants and call the shots, mister.” Beckie thumbed at his nose as he glared at her. “Plus, I think it looks much better this way. You clean up real nice, Kay.” “Is this permanent?” he had to ask. “You can’t just do this to people without telling them.” “I’m not exactly sure,” answered Beckie. “I think it says something about lasting for a month or so on the bottle. I don’t know what you’re upset about, I told you ‘it’ looks better this way.” Kaleb ignored her wonton smile and covered himself with his right hand. He didn’t care if it was ‘yucky from pee-pee’. His left hand shot behind him to check the damage, tracing along his crack with a tentative finger. It was the same story back there, his butt was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. All the while, his Amazon companion watched every move with happy curiosity. “That’s so your bottom won’t be yucky from poo-poos,” explained Beckie. “You’ll thank me later, trust me.” This wasn’t happening. Kaleb’s mouth was having a hard time getting out his words. His brain was grasping for understanding, but it all slipped between his fingers like many bits of confusing sand. “No! I’m not going to thank you later,” he raised his voice. “Because I don’t do ‘poo-poos’ on myself!” Yeah, he even felt childish having to make the clarifying statement, but that kind of insinuation required quick addressing. “Not right now you don’t, but that can change in a heartbeat.” Beckie ruffled the towel across his hair and his ears and neck, ignoring his scowl the entire way. “Just yesterday you weren’t wetting your pants, either. Maturosis can be rapidly on-setting, and it’s best to be prepared. We will talk more about this in your room.” He slapped a palm to his forehead, this was all so freaking useless. Kaleb knew just what was waiting for him in his room: the altogether-too-convenient disposable diaper. Still, he had to pick his battles, and this was one he had to fight at the moment. Something about losing his body hair that was yet another step to far, he had to find a way to stick this weekend in reverse. His temples thundered as he managed to squeak, “Put it back!” “Put what back?” she echoed, she brought the towel across his face before he shrugged it away. “My body hair,” he said as his voice shook. “Give me back my hair! I want it back!” The cheerleader chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way, sweetie.” “You took it from me!” he howled right in the Amazon’s ear. “This tantrum is going to get you nowhere, Kay. This kind of childishness is exactly what your wave readers are for, I bet you’re dropping a social emotional level at this very moment. Don’t let your Maturosis get the best of you.” It was no use. No point. No nothing. He gritted his teeth and rocked in place, there was nothing he could do, nothing he could come up with. There was no answer to so much insinuation. When she was done drying him, Beckie wrapped the pink towel around his waist like a skirt. She then put both her hands on his shoulders and marched him to the mirror over the basin. As she ran her hands through the black hair atop his head, she told him about the special conditioner, how his hair now had volume and it was ‘feathery’. She explained that the formula protected his hair from the other Little bath products, that if she didn’t do it right he could’ve been as bald as a baby. She did all of that without noticing the terror in his eyes. Kaleb eyed his reflection, his hair no longer a ‘mop’, appearing more pulled back and longer, somewhat like a male model from a barber’s catalog. He looked younger, brighter, like an improved version of himself; but at what cost? He evaluated his sensitive hairless arms one at a time, it made his entire body feel different, like even the air made his skin tickle. Kaleb turned towards the loudly draining bathtub where he expected to see the run off of his curly black body hairs, but there was nothing, no proof of him having body hair at all. Poof, gone, more Amazon magic. Beckie beamed at him. “What do you think?” “I don’t know…” he closed his eyes unable to take in anymore. “I was told not to think…” “Good boy.” Beckie planted a kiss on his cheek as she got out a hairbrush. “Now let’s get you all handsome, then we can get you padded and dressed. There’s so much more Cushioning test to do.” Things were only going to get worse from here.

Disclaimer--All characters are fictional and meant to be over age 18. Be warned: this is a non-consensual story, but he comes around in the end. Among the stories I've written, this one has the happiest ending. Chapter 1 Julie was waiting for him in the hall when he opened the bathroom door, so he immediately felt guilty. He wasn’t sure if she had been waiting to use it, or if she had an urgent patient question. But either way, she didn’t look happy, and he felt a little self-conscious that she had been waiting on him to finish peeing. Standing right outside the door drew attention to his bathroom habits, and he had always been shy about other people knowing he was “doing his business”. When she urgently signaled to follow her toward the hallway that ran the length of the building to their pod of exam rooms, he walked closely behind. It was always good to keep your nurse happy; he had learned that in medical school. It made your day MUCH easier. She walked into their work room, a small space with a diminutive computer work station for each of them and a set of cabinets, as well as an old exam table, which was no longer used for patients. They usually piled supplies on it these days, though today it happened to be bare. She waited for him to come in, then closed the door behind him. She paused. He waited, a bit mystified. After a moment she met his eyes, lips pressed firmly together. “We need to talk,” she said tensely. He blinked. “Ok, what’s up?” Julie Davis had been his nurse for nearly a year now, having been hired shortly after he was. She was efficient, smart, and personable. The patients loved her, and he appreciated her as a competent and friendly assistant with a sharp wit. In addition, she was pretty as hell. He’d never seen her upset or angry, but she seemed a little of both right now. It caught his attention. She squinted a little. “What should I do if there is a doctor in the practice who is being irresponsible, keeping patients waiting every day, slowing down employees, and keeping them from going home to their family at night? What should I do?” He was curious. He had a handful of partners. They were relatively tight-knit. This would be news. “Probably tell him. Or her, I guess. They’d want to know.” “Yeah?” She paused, considering. “I guess that’s right.” He sat down at his workstation, interested in the gossip. “Who is it?” She looked up at him. “Well, actually…it’s you.” He shifted uncomfortably, taken aback at first. “Are—are you serious? Me? Really? Wha–” He was lost. She sat down, but her eyes never left his face. “You spend half an hour or more in the potty every single day, keeping patients waiting, and keeping me from getting home to my kids. It has to stop.” His eyebrows furrowed. He was distracted by the use of the word, “potty”. She used it often, instead of the more common—and adult—“bathroom” or “restroom”. He knew she was a single mom with small children, so he assumed it was a habit. But it was odd, and a little embarrassing that she used it with him. It made him feel like a little kid. Especially in this context. “You’ve been…timing me? Thaaat seems a little weird. Normally, I wouldn’t mind the extra attention, especially from you.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a smile, pretending to flirt. He would never come on to her. He felt strongly about professional boundaries and was careful about sexual harassment. But it was amusing to fake it sometimes, and humor was useful in defusing awkward situations like this. Was she really talking about how long he spent in the bathroom?! “But…well, it’s the bathroom, right? So…” She didn’t hesitate. “Well, I wasn’t timing you at first. But it has gotten a little ridiculous, and I started wondering just how long your patients and I spend waiting for you.” He looked down, embarrassed. Ok, so humor wasn’t working. Yet. She seemed to be waiting for him to answer, however, and he wasn’t sure what to say. “Well, everybody needs to go to the bathroom. I can’t just turn that function off, you know?” “But no one spends so much time peeing. Or pooping.” She smiled a little to herself, and he was sure she said, under her breath, “Or…whatever.” He reddened but said nothing. Was she implying what he thought she was? What could you say to this? In truth, he had spent a lot of time in the bathroom. It was the only place the staff couldn’t bother him. He spent the time playing on his phone, and, though he would certainly never admit it to anyone, had in fact pleasured himself–rarely–in the past. He couldn’t believe she had been paying attention. He didn’t know whether he had a right to be offended, or just to be embarrassed. When he didn’t immediately speak, lost in thought about how he could possibly respond, she pressed on. “Of course, it’s none of my business what my doctor does in his spare time. But this isn’t spare time. This is work time, and you are being rude to your patients and to me.” Her cheeks were flushed. If anything, it made her look prettier than usual. At any other time, he would be attracted to her. He swallowed. He thought he could see where she was going. “Well, I’m sorry, of course. I can hurry in the future.” He nodded to himself. “I wasn’t really thinking about your time. I will hurry.” Julie sighed. “I doubt it.” She stood up, and he subconsciously backed his chair up, surprised. She confidently continued, “I came up with my own plan,” looking down at him sternly. He thought for a moment that this was probably how her children felt. It was intimidating. “I thought I would put a diaper on you, and I’d change you when you needed it during the day. It would be a more efficient system, because I can do that quickly, and you wouldn’t have to stop in the middle of seeing patients to go hide in the potty.” He laughed out loud. This humor definitely helped defuse the tension in the room, and he appreciated it. But he stopped when he saw that she wasn’t smiling. Why not? This was a ridiculous idea. She had to be kidding. “I can’t—wait, you’re not seriously suggesting that, are you?” “Of course I am. You said before that everyone has to go to the potty. That’s not quite true,” she said, sitting down again across from him. “Everybody needs to pee, and everybody needs to poop, but not everyone needs to go to the potty to do it. It would save loads of time and make you a more efficient doctor. Agreeing to let me diaper you would show that you care about your patients. And about your staff, or at least about their time.” He stared at her, trying to decide if she was pulling his leg. Finally, he shook his head. “Yeah, wellll, don’t be silly. That’s never gonna happen. I’m an adult, and I plan to go on using the bathroom like other adults. But I’m sorry about inconveniencing you. I’ll be faster when I have to go.” She pursed her lips and smiled at him. “Adults wear diapers, you know. Cool adults, even. Like astronauts and race car drivers. You could be like an astronaut!” Again, it was hard to tell if she was joking. She seemed earnest about this. “Maybe they do, Julie, but that ain’t gonna happen. Let’s drop it. I could never agree to that.” He couldn’t shake the idea that she was putting him on. But she wasn’t smiling at all. She had an intense kind of look in her eye. “You could,” she insisted. “You would show that your patients’ and staffs’ time is important to you. That would be admirable. You’d have nothing to be embarrassed about.” She nodded at him seriously. “It’ll work. You’ll see. Let’s try it!” But he refused to accept the suggestion. He thought he was being generous enough to take her seriously. But this was bizarre. He’d have to reconsider what he thought of Julie’s common sense. If she thought this was a reasonable plan, what else did she think? What a wacko. “I’m sorry, but that’s just too weird. I promise you I’ll be more mindful of your time. But I can’t do…that.” Julie stared at him for a moment. Then she slowly nodded solemnly. “Well, we can try it your way. But if you can’t go faster, I won’t take no for an answer.” She sat back down but held his eyes with her own. “Let’s be clear about my expectations, since I’m not sure you even know what’s normal. “If you are peeing, I want you in and out of the potty in 60 seconds. At your age, there is no reason it should take longer. If you have to poop, it is okay to spend as long as 5 minutes, but no more.” He blushed as she talked to him so graphically, and again felt like a child. What was she going to do now, tell him how to wipe? This was ridiculous, and he found it impossible to engage in this…negotiation, or whatever it was. Instead, anxious to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he shook his head. This was humiliating. “Julie, I’ll be quicker. Can we just leave it at that? Now, do we have patients?” Her hand shot out and grabbed his. “Not so fast. I’m serious. I need an agreement from you before we move on. If you take longer than that, we’re going with my plan. Agreed?” He hesitated. He knew he could never accept that. “Julie, seriously. Please!” he said in exasperation. If there was one thing that embarrassed him, it was talking about his bodily functions. Here they were talking about timing his bowel movements. But Julie shook her head. “Nope. I want a commitment from you. We’ll go with diapers if you need it, okay?” Frustrated, he protested, “I don’t think I can agree to that. It’s crazy!” “Fine. Then agree to the deal, and then don’t be slow. It is entirely under your control.” “Argh,” he groaned, blushing furiously. “Okay, just drop it.” Julie nodded, still looked at him closely. “I will drop it, for now. But be careful. We have a deal, and I will collect on that deal if I need to. I’ll be watching.” And he was convinced that she would be. He noticed her interested glance when he walked the long hallway back to the bathroom during the next few days. He even found her outside the bathroom door occasionally, which kind of freaked him out. But he found that as long as he was attentive and mindful, he wasn’t in danger of incurring her wrath. It turned out she was right about the time frames in the bathroom. It was his growing confidence that turned out to be his downfall. More than 2 weeks later, he was harried and stressed, and ducked into the bathroom, unable to keep from glancing at Twitter while he relieved himself. There was an article on his football team’s plans for the upcoming draft, suggesting that the backup quarterback might be trade bait. He appreciated the momentary escape from his day, and didn’t even realize he was 4.5 minutes over his agreed limit until he opened the bathroom door and literally walked into her tapping her foot in the hallway outside. He glanced down at her, surprised to find someone there. When he saw her determined expression, he was so preoccupied that he was genuinely surprised. It finally dawned on him why she might be there, and what the upset look on her face might mean. His stress level returned to pre-Twitter levels. She was going to need to be mollified somehow. She pointed at his chest, and then toward their work space. She turned on her heels and strode away without looking back. He hung his head, embarrassed to have this talk again. Seriously—why wouldn’t she let this drop? He was trying, right? On his way back to the workspace, he started thinking that perhaps he’d need a new nurse. As nice and efficient as Julie was, her preoccupation with the bathroom–and diapers?!–was a bit alarming. It was midmorning, and there was a lull in his schedule, but still. Was it fair to him to keep him from his inbox to talk about the “potty”? She entered the work room first, then stood aside to let him past her. He dutifully went, trying to think about what to say to deflect her anger, and how to set this weird relationship straight. He was the boss in this relationship. She needed to understand that. When he passed her, he was startled to see her shut and lock the door behind them. She stood in front of the door. He paused awkwardly, not sure how to address her actions. But she didn’t wait for him. “I’ll give you this: you held it together longer than I thought you would,” Julie said, shaking her head. “But, of course, here we are. Were you peeing or pooping?” He reddened. She was so blunt and direct about these things. He couldn’t think fast enough to lie. “Peeing,” he said quietly. He was glad he hadn’t been moving his bowels. He wasn’t even sure he could say the other word in front of someone. “Wow. 5 and a half minutes for peeing. Did you get lost? Maybe you had trouble finding it?” she asked sarcastically. He realized that he should feel offended, but she was talking again. “You really think I couldn’t have changed a diaper and had you back to work in 5 and a half minutes?” He stood silently, shocked that she was again discussing the diaper thing. What else could he say to bring her back to reality? Is suggesting that he wear diapers enough cause for firing someone? He struggled to find the right words to say to her. But she plowed right on. “Well, I guess we’re going to find out now, aren’t we? Pull your pants down while I get a diaper out.” She turned to the cabinet and pulled open a door, where an unopened pack of adult diapers had apparently been waiting. He frowned. He knew the office didn’t stock those. He was freshly embarrassed by the idea that she had gone shopping and purchased them specifically for him, expecting him to need them. Had they been here ever since their previous conversation?! Julie pulled out the package, ripped open the bag, and pulled out a diaper, setting it on the counter while she put the pack away again. She reached up into a nearby cabinet and found a bottle of baby powder and a blue pad, then turned back to him. “Pick up the pace. We’ve got someone scheduled in a few minutes.” He stared at her, unable to believe that she really expected to go through with this. “You can’t be—“ “Of course I’m serious,” she interrupted him sternly. “We had a deal. So get your pants down around your ankles and hop up on the table.” His mouth dropped open. “NOW.” He suddenly found it hard to swallow. She was a nut job. “Look, Julie, I appreciate your concern, and I’m sorry, but—“ She walked back over to the door and stood in front of it as he trailed off, intimidated a bit by her confidence. “But what?” “But I told you before that I wouldn’t go through with this…this plan. I just can’t do that.” “You can and you will,” she snapped. “You specifically promised me you’d do it. I told you that it was entirely under your control. You could have avoided wearing diapers, but you didn’t. Today, it wasn’t even a close call.” She paused, seeming to consider. “One might even wonder if you were asking for this.” She tilted her head and looked curiously at him. “Were you?” “No!” he exclaimed. “Of course not. And I wasn’t seriously agreeing to this. I—I can’t do this. I can’t—“ he lowered his voice. “I can’t pull down my pants in my own office. I can’t wear a diaper. I can’t let you see me naked, or talk about my…time…in the bathroom. You’re my employee. I’m your boss. I just can’t. You need to drop it. Let’s get back to work.” He started for the door, but she resolutely stood in his way. “Pants down, hop up.” She stared at him. He froze, completely undone by her attitude. “Look, we’re not getting back to work until you are wearing that diaper. The door is locked. No one will know you’re wearing a diaper unless you tell them, and I can’t imagine you will. It will be under your pants, and no one will be able to tell. No one cares what you wear for underpants. “I care about you as a doctor and a person, and I firmly believe this is in your best interest, not to mention the interest of your patients and of me. Now get those pants down so we can move forward.” He looked at her helplessly. “I…I…can’t…” She suddenly took a step forward. She had a steely look in her eye. “Young man, you’ve got until I count to 3. One…” She raised her eyebrows at him. He stood frozen, afraid. “Two…” He folded. He had no idea why, but he didn’t want her to get to 3. What did he think would happen, here, in his office? But she’d assumed the “mom look” that did not invite argument. He had made that mistake as a child, and it hadn’t ended well. So it was more instinct than anything else that led to his obeying her. His hands, trembling, went to his belt, and he hurriedly unbuckled it and then unbuttoned his slacks. He started easing them down his legs, and tried to look up at her. He couldn’t quite meet her gaze. But Julie smiled, and said contentedly, “That’s better. I knew you’d be a good boy. Now, walk—or shuffle, I guess—over to the table behind you.” His face burned. He glanced around and saw he was a few feet away from the exam table she indicated. He felt ridiculous as he tried to walk and found, as she said, that he needed to shuffle his feet, moving over to the table. She walked around to the end of the table and patted it gently. “Up you go.” He couldn’t believe this was happening. He tried not to think, doing as she asked now without questioning. He backed up to the table and edged onto it, feeling the cold vinyl against his bare thighs. She had guided him to a point a few feet from the end, and, once seated, she gently indicated that he was to swing his legs up to the end of the table and lie down. He took a deep breath and lay back. She cooed, “Good boy. Now let’s get those undies down…” Feeling her hands tugging on his boxers sent him into a bit of a panic. “Wait!” he said, sitting up again. “Um—uh—why don’t we—I mean, why can’t I just put it on myself? I’m not a baby, you know.” He was breathing heavily from the fear that she would see him naked. He wasn’t a virgin, but the number of women who had seen him naked was a very small number. She stared down at him for just a moment before shaking her head. “No, I’m sorry, that wouldn’t be a good idea. How many diapers have you changed?” He stared at her. “Well, none. But I’m a doctor. How hard can it be? Can you just show me—generally—what to do?” He nodded to himself, and spoke more quickly and confidently. “I mean, then you don’t have to be directly involved, and your time won’t be wasted. That would let you get home earlier to see your family,” he added, thinking that might sound appealing. She seemed to like his eagerness, and smiled at him, almost fondly. This made him think that maybe he could sway her, and could make his fate a little less humiliating. ”That’s sweet of you to think of me that way.” But then she said, “But it is a tricky job getting the diaper to lie flat so that no one will see it or hear it, and so that it won’t leak. Keeping it all secret from your patients is the most important thing, don’t you think? I don’t think we want to leave your secret in the hands of an amateur. What if you left a little space for wetness to leak out and walked around with wet pants for the afternoon?” She waited for that image to form in his mind, and was rewarded with his brow furrowing slightly. “And then there is my suspicion that if you can’t just pee in a reasonable amount of time, how likely is it that you could pee and then change your own diaper in a reasonable amount of time? No, if this is to be helpful to you, and to your patients, and to me, I’ll have to be the one to do it.” She smiled at his sinking expression. “I can tell you are embarrassed. Is it because I’m going to see your pee-pee?” If it was possible, he reddened still further. “But really–it will be okay. Remember, I’m a professional nurse, not to mention a mom of boys, and you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. If it could be done without seeing you naked, we would do it that way. But it can’t be helped, so let’s just act professionally and get through it. Afterward, I think you’ll be relieved that it wasn’t nearly as big a deal as you thought. Now, let’s get to it.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’ll have patients very soon.” Defeated, he let her push him gently back into a lying position. She put her hands on his hands and moved them to his sides, away from his boxers. “Let’s get these big-boy undies down.” Her hands gripped the lower outside corners of his boxers. “Lift your bottom,” she coaxed. He took a breath, looked away, and did as she asked. Once his rear end had cleared the table, shoes firmly on the end of the table, she efficiently pulled down his boxers and slid a blue pad under him. “Okay, back down again.” He could feel the cool soft flat surface under his backside. “Just some basics here. Your cooperation will go a long way toward making this efficient and fast. And I’m sure you want this to be quick. First, your knees should always be as wide apart as you can get them. Ok?” she asked, “Knees apart.” She waited for him to nod. “Second, you’ll always start with your feet down on the table, with your knees apart, of course. That is the ‘down’ position, obviously.” Again he acknowledged her, dimly aware that she had waited for him to be naked to be having this detailed instructional talk. “Third, I’ll need you to lift up your legs so I can remove the old diaper and/or place the new one in place. When you do that, you’ll want to grab your knees (still wide open, right?) and pull them as far as you can toward your shoulders. We’ll call that position, ‘up.’ Okay?” He nodded numbly. He just wanted this to be over. “Finally, we’ll want you in the ‘down’ position again. And your knees?” she prompted him, an expectant smile on her face. “What?” he asked. He was trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. It didn’t help to be asked a question that reminded him he was a person and was helping this process. “Where will your knees be when your legs and bottom come back down onto the new diaper?” she asked patiently. “Oh, uh, open?” he mumbled distractedly. Could this really be happening? “Right! Great job,” she praised him, holding her hand up to be high-fived like he was a little child. “Now, let’s just practice that once or twice to make sure you’ve got it in your head. We want it to be fast in the future.” He sighed silently. “First down.” He kept his feet on the table, knees bent, and opened his legs slightly. He was secretly focused on hoping she wasn’t going to look at or comment on his penis, and was desperately hoping it wasn’t going to become erect. That was the main reason he wanted this over with. “Ah, ah,” she clucked, staring at his groin, her hands moving to his inner thighs. “THAT is not ‘wide open.’” She pushed his knees gently until they were nearly flat against the table, completely exposing his privates. He blushed with humiliation. “That’s better. THAT’S how wide apart your legs need to be. And now, ‘up’.” He was partially in his own whirling world of embarrassment, and was slow to realize she wanted him to move again. “Come on now, up you go,” she prompted again, tapping his bottom to get his attention. He quickly pulled his knees up toward his shoulders, rotating his bottom up toward her. He realized suddenly that now she had an excellent view of his wide open backside, something that no woman other than his own mother had ever seen, as far as he knew. He flushed further as he noticed her eyes drop to his bottom and look appraisingly. She made a little sound he couldn’t interpret, but seemed to want to move past it. She again urged his legs further apart, stretching him as wide as possible, and tapped his bottom up a bit more. Then she smiled and said, “Excellent. That will work nicely.” He heard a rustling sound and felt her touch his lower back. “After you are cleaned up and a new diaper is in place, you’ll hear me say, ‘down,’ again, and that will be your cue to lower your legs into the original position.” He did, relieved, and felt a bulky soft sensation under his upper buttocks as he set down. He knew what that was without having to look, and thought maybe he might be sweating. He started to close his legs instinctively, but felt her hands again on his thighs. “Not yet. Still wide apart. Pretty much always wide apart for me, please, until you sit up.” He felt a cool sensation over his bottom and genitals, and started to glance down before he caught the scent of baby powder. He glanced down in alarm, and saw her shaking a baby powder bottle over him. A quick shake here and there, and she was done. He was too stressed to admit it had always been a smell he enjoyed. He certainly couldn’t admit that here, now. Next he felt her pull the diaper up through his legs and tape it firmly in place on his lower belly. It felt snug and comfortable, but substantial, between his legs. He was very grateful not to be naked, and even happier that he hadn’t developed an erection during the procedure. That seemed like a miracle, given the fact that a pretty young woman was inches away from his naked body. But his stress and worry seemed to have protected him for the time being. “Okay, sit up now,” she directed him. And he did so, pulling his knees together and swinging around to hang them over the table. It was a little awkward to feel the bulk between his legs, and he heard a rustle as he moved. “You did wonderfully! Quite the big boy. Wasn’t that easy and painless?” she asked, smiling. He grunted a little. It had actually hurt, but only his pride. He had to admit that, even with the instructions, she had done that very fast. But what could he possibly say out loud? “Well, I know you can’t admit it, but you did fine. I think this will work very well. Now, you should be careful standing up, because your pants are still down. You can pull them up now, and see how that feels.” He quickly moved to follow her directions, happy to cover up the diaper, which must look ridiculous on him. He pulled up his boxers, which slid slickly over the plastic of the diaper, and then pulled his pants up while she folded up the blue pad and put the baby powder away. He was able to button them fairly easily, and the zipper was a little tight, but he got that up as well. He finished and looked down to make sure it looked acceptable. She turned and looked as well. “Well, that’s not too bad at all, is it? I wouldn’t be able to tell you are wearing a diaper!” she remarked cheerfully. He wasn’t sure. The front of his khakis definitely puffed out, and though he turned his head, he couldn’t really tell about the back. “I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. “Won’t people be able to tell right away?” “Nonsense,” she said, unlocking but not opening the door. “If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t know to look. People aren’t nearly that smart, and people are too polite to stare at your crotch. You’re just overly sensitive.” She turned around again to look him in the eye. “No one will know. It is our secret.” He thought of something else and tensed up. “You put baby powder on me,” he said accusingly. “I’m sure people will smell it.” Julie smiled. “Well, maybe,” she admitted. “But they’ll just think you smell nice. I personally LOVE that smell. And it is way better than smelling like a used diaper, isn’t it?” She was gratified to see his eyebrows twitch with concern. She came nearer and took his hands in hers. “You’ll be just fine. There are really only two things to remember: first, no potty breaks. Second, when you think you need to be changed, come see me.” She saw him swallow self-consciously. “You’ll do fine. Pretend it’s not there. You’ll be used to it in no time.” “Wait—“ he stammered. That made him consider something for the first time. “How long do I have to wear this?” She wrinkled her brow and cocked her head slightly, as if she had misheard him. “What do you mean?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I didn’t ask before. But this is just for this morning, right? Or today? To prove a point? When can I be done?” He chanced a brief look at her face, but found it hard to meet her eyes. She was 5-6 inches shorter than he, but seemed very intimidating right now. He stared at the floor. She, however, reached out for his chin and brought it up, forcing him gently to look at her. “Sweetie, this isn’t just for the morning or today. But let’s just get through today and tomorrow and then…we can talk about it, okay?” She smiled at him. He nodded thoughtfully, as he thought this sounded like it was up for discussion. He would have to think about what he would say tomorrow to convince her to give it up. Why hadn’t he negotiated how long this would last before he agreed to it? He wandered away, and she watched the diaper through his pants shift back and forth, rustling gently. He wasn’t quite waddling, but the diaper was definitely changing the way he walked. She adored that look in her boys, but was starting to think she might like it even better in her doctor. That could NOT have gone better, from her perspective. She’d planned this for a long, long time, working out options for every possible contingency. She’d expected reluctance, of course. Julie had hoped she wouldn’t need to threaten him, and was very happy she didn’t need to. A lot of what she had planned depended on trust. This doctor was naïve, well-intentioned, attractive, and single. From the moment she had started working for him, she had fantasized about being with him. He hadn’t asked her out yet, so she’d needed to jump-start their relationship. Nothing like having a man naked on a table in front of you to force some intimacy! She had guessed correctly that he could be motivated by his desire to be a better doctor and employer. She knew he was shy, and that was why she took the leap today. She had a little experience bossing around men, and had generally found she liked it. It was part of why she liked being a nurse. Patients responded well to her. But this was a little different. Yes, she truly had a good excuse to diaper him. But this could also turn into a serious, long-term project, and she had high hopes for where it could eventually lead. For now, she had to nurture him through the next few hours carefully and gently. Then she could worry about the next few days and weeks. One step at a time. Chapter 2 He was extremely self-conscious of every step. In his mind, the diaper was clearly visible and audible to everyone, though oddly no one seemed to be commenting about it. His cheeks burned as he made his way through the hallways from exam room to exam room. He could feel it, warm and bulky between his legs, hear it rustling quietly with every step, see it bulging gently under his khakis, and when he sat down, he could smell the faint scent of baby powder. But even in the quiet exam rooms, patients didn’t seem to want to say anything about it. Were they too embarrassed for him to mention it? Was it really possible that they weren’t noticing? As the morning wore on, it became clear that a fair number of them, anyway, couldn’t tell. If he just pretended nothing was wrong, they seemed to carry on that way, too, and with every visit that passed, he did relax a little bit. He tried to keep up conversation during quiet times when he had to move around, just in case he needed to mask the sound. The growing pressure in his bladder was tolerable. He had already had his bathroom break, after all, so it wasn’t difficult to ignore the issue until lunchtime. This was when he usually got a second break to hit the restroom. When he finished seeing patients for the morning, he felt like it was a little silly not to go. After all, there weren’t patients waiting. Would Julie really mind? On his way over to the lunch room he turned down the hall to the bathroom. As luck would have it, he met Julie coming out of the bathroom, the smell of soap fresh on her hands. She stopped and looked him up and down as he stood, surprised and unprepared to meet her. There was nothing else along this part of the hall that he could say he was going to do. “So…what’s up?” she asked, smiling pleasantly, as if they were pals meeting on the street. “I, just, well, needed to…” he faded out, not willing to discuss it with her. Suddenly he realized she might be serious about not wanting him to go to the bathroom. “Were you heading to the potty?” He nodded, at first not saying anything. “Well, I finished seeing patients, so, um, I—well, I—thought it might be okay to, um…” he stammered, looking at his feet. “Hmmm,” she said, nodding. “Well, I don’t remember telling you that you could go to the potty. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you that you were NOT to use the potty at all today.” She touched his elbow gently, making him look up briefly at her. “Remember?” “Yes, but—“ “Yes, ma’am, please,” she corrected quietly, as if it were a common error she had corrected before. He stopped and looked at her briefly, and decided he didn’t want to make a big deal about that right now. “Yes, ma’am, but there aren’t any patients waiting. I thought that was the point.” She glanced around to make sure they were alone. Everyone else had gone off to lunch. “Well, it was part of the point. We’re also trying to make sure that I and your other employees get home as soon as they can. And if you are fiddling around in the potty, you aren’t working or eating, and that will lengthen our day. “I don’t want you in the potty at all today. If you have to pee, I want you to pee in your diaper. Is it too wet to pee in?” He looked confused for a moment. She saw he didn’t understand. She clarified, “Did you already wet your diaper? If you pee again, will your diaper leak?” “Of course not!“ he said, startled that she thought he might have peed in this thing. “Then feel free to tinkle away. You don’t need the potty right now.” He looked unhappy. She knew she had to sound reasonable. “Look, you’re free to use the potty after the patients are gone and your staff is home, or if there aren’t patients waiting and your task list is caught up. But you know as well as I do that you pretty much always have a task list. If today isn’t that rare day—and it isn’t because I just saw your task list—I don’t want you wasting time in the potty. You’ve got something else you can use now. “So…off you go to lunch. Don’t dilly-dally. See you afterward!” She turned him gently and patted him on his padded bottom. To his credit, she thought, he didn’t talk back or seem angry. Just quiet, like he needed time to readjust. He was thinking that he wasn’t truly desperate yet. His bladder wasn’t comfortable, but he could wait to pee. He certainly wasn’t going to do it in his diaper. That would be ridiculous, just what she wanted, and presumably would put him right back up on that changing table for more embarrassment. It was one thing to be forced to wear the diaper, but another thing to use it willingly. He was thinking about how little he could get away with drinking at lunch. He was just wondering if he could last until his patients were done that afternoon! He was sitting down to lunch with the other doctors and a drug rep—without a drink—when Julie walked past with her food and set a tall glass of water down in front of him. She winked at him and said to the others, “Wouldn’t want my doctor to get dehydrated! It’s a long day.” He was really starting to resent her, but–he didn’t need her to be upset with him. That could make their working relationship very difficult, and could cause his task list to grow dramatically. Keeping his nurse happy had truly become instinctual. So he said out loud, “Well, thanks!” She said, “You’re welcome,” and kept walking, but paused at the door and looked at him pointedly, raising her eyebrows. He raised the glass to his lips and took a token sip, setting it down again quickly. She didn’t budge. She kept staring at him, until others turned to see what was going on. Uncomfortable, he sheepishly took a longer draught of the water, until she nodded and left, smiling. Now he had a foreboding feeling. She was going to force him to pee. Not explicitly, but it was not going to be easy to hold off if he had to drink to make her happy. He’d have to talk to her about that. He finished his lunch and went to his desk, working for another 15 minutes on his task list. He worked hard, returning calls and forwarding messages to patients, hoping that the faster he got done, the sooner he could go home and escape this crazy day. And if he hurried, maybe he wouldn’t have to pee before finishing. But the longer he worked, the more the pressure in his bladder grew. Crap. He got up momentarily about 5 minutes before the first afternoon patient was scheduled to put some therapy forms in the “out” bin. While he was up, Julie walked into the work room. She walked right up to him and shocked him by cupping his crotch with her hand. “How’s it going?” she asked pleasantly. He yelped and jumped back reflexively. “Whoops! Sorry, force of habit,” she said, smiling a little. “Just checking to see if you needed to be changed.” “Well you could have just asked me!” he exclaimed, his cheeks burning at the reminder that he had been reduced to the level of one of her little boys. “Okay,” she replied. “Although I guess I already know the answer. ‘Do you need to be changed?’ I’ll point out that I do have about 2-3 minutes before the first patient comes to change your diaper if you do.” “Oh! No,” he replied quickly. “No need.” He tried to sound offhanded, but it came out seeming tense. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Really? That seems kind of strange. You always use the potty before the afternoon. You must really need to go. Are you holding back just so you won’t have to be changed? Are you scared of me?” She smiled to make it seem like a silly idea. “I doubt you can make it through the whole afternoon. You’ll be so uncomfortable.” He shifted positions a little, quite aware of the discomfort already. She was right, of course. But he hated to think about it. He couldn’t even really talk about it with her. So he didn’t say anything. “We won’t have time during the afternoon, I don’t think. Now is your only chance for a change. If you don’t pee now, once you do wet your diaper, you might have to be wet for the rest of the day.” He definitely didn’t want that. But he couldn’t stand the idea of “using” his diaper like a baby. And now she would know that he had done it, and even when he had done it. Having her so intimately aware of his private habits was almost as bad as using a diaper for them. This was excruciating. “Can we please just stop talking about it?” he pleaded, his exasperation with her bluntness showing. She grinned, clearly unconcerned with his shyness. “You are embarrassed about normal body processes, aren’t you? That is probably because you aren’t a parent yet, and not a nurse. We’re all about body fluids.” She became more serious. “I’m not really that interested in whether you are embarrassed, you might have noticed. I am entirely focused on keeping us efficient and on schedule. And I know that, if you look at the big picture, of course you do, too. “So swallow your pride. Do what’s best for the patients and staff. Now, do you need a change?” He swallowed and looked down. He said quietly, “I have to go, but I haven’t yet.” She folded her arms. “Well, we haven’t got much time. If you’re going to pee, go ahead.” He glanced up, alarmed. “I don’t think I can do it with you here.” He looked around. “Can you…give me some privacy?” Julie shook her head grimly. “I don’t think so, champ. We don’t have time. If you want a dry diaper for the afternoon, you have to go right now.” He shook his head. This was too much. He couldn’t pee right now, in front of her. “Oh, come on,” she said. “I can’t even see you peeing. That is ridiculous.” He stood in front of her, staring at a spot on the floor. The silence stretched on. “Are you peeing? Are you done?” she prompted, eyeing the clock. He shook his head, miserably. His bladder hurt by now, but she was staring at him. He pretended he was somewhere else, that she wasn’t there. It felt so strange to try to pee while wearing clothes. Every instinct told him to hold it in, but he knew he had to overcome it. He shut his eyes completely, and tried to pretend he was in front of a toilet with his fly open. He pretended he was alone in the bathroom. Eventually he felt a little wetness come out, and fought the considerable urge to stop it. More came and more came. He felt warmth spread between his legs, and felt the diaper get noticeably heavier. He kept going, eventually feeling spent and comfortable. Except for the heavy wet diaper between his legs. That, at last, was enough to make him willing to have it changed. Time to act. He opened his eyes. “Okay, I—“ He was alone in the workroom. He was relieved and touched that Julie gave him some space. It seemed a little unlike her, but he wasn’t going to be picky. But where was she? He waddled–and was aware that he waddled now that his diaper was wet–over to the door of the workroom and peeked outside, not willing to show himself in public. He had to wait a moment, but then he spotted her—bringing a patient to the nearby exam room! He pulled himself back into the room. He hated to have to wait for her, but he knew she would be angry if he tried to take care of himself on his own. He’d just need to wait for her. He played on his phone for a few minutes. Eventually she hurried in, but instead of catering to him, she went straight to her computer and started the notes for the patient’s appointment. She barely seemed to acknowledge him. He waited for a moment for her to attend to him, but it seemed like he had completely forgotten about him. He was confused, but also quite uncomfortable. “Um, Julie, I hate to bother you, but would you have time now to, um, well…” he trailed off, unwilling to say the actual words if he didn’t have to. She turned in her chair to face him standing across the room, his legs held slightly apart for comfort sake. “Time to do what?” He reddened. “You know, to, um, change the, um…” “Your what?” she asked, staring pleasantly up at him. He stared dumbly at her. Finally he realized she wanted him to say it. “The, um…diaper.” “Change your diaper? No, sorry. We ran out of time. You took too long. We’ll have to take care of it later if we have a break.” She turned her back to him again. He couldn’t quite believe she had said that. She couldn’t be serious. He started to panic a little. “I really need some help here. Did I do something to upset you?” She turned back and frowned slightly, wrinkling her brow. “Why, of course not. But this is not an emergency. It is not even really an “urgency”. You are not in wet pants. You are wearing a diaper, which by definition is optionally changeable. We’ll change it when we have a minute and patients are not waiting. You prefer being dry? Of course you do. Well, keep up with patients and we’ll get to you, okay?” She smiled at him encouragingly. He didn’t like being patronized. “But—but—what if it…leaks? It is REALLY wet!” His eyes pleaded with her. She dragged him backward and closed the door briefly. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Let’s see.” She cupped her hand in front of her and reached toward him. Before he knew what was happening, she had her hand against his crotch. It was strange not being able to feel it. But he felt the weight of the wet diaper lift and fall once, twice, three times. She pulled her hand away, then reached for his face. She spoke more quietly, sounding reassuring. “Your diaper is wet, but you won’t leak. It could even take some more, if you’ve got it.” She turned around and opened the door. “Stop worrying. You’ll be fine. Remember, keep up!” He was not happy. He felt humiliated and betrayed by her, not to mention uncomfortable. She had told him to pee, and then he did, and she refused to change him! He almost felt like crying. He couldn’t believe she expected him to work like this. This was far worse than spending some extra time in the bathroom, and he would never be able to get used to this feeling, of that he was sure. It sagged to a ridiculous depth between his legs, rubbing against his mid-thighs. It was warm near his body, but cooler down there, which was very distracting, and any air that snuck inside the diaper made him aware of the wetness. He shuffled into his first appointment of the afternoon shyly, sure his patient was as aware of his soggy diaper as he was. He sat down on his stool, and felt the wetness anew, cool against him. He smelled a wave of powdery urine waft up, and was ready to be embarrassed as the patient asked what was going on. He worried about wetness leaking onto his pants as he stood again. But the visit passed without any apparent observations by the patient that anything was wrong. It was–except for his preoccupation–a normal visit. He was a little less concerned after that, and started to learn to ignore the strangeness of the situation, focusing instead on his work. His diaper never really got warm, as it pressed against him only when he sat, and sagged down and cooled when standing. But he became less paranoid and stressed. After an hour, Julie caught him coming out of a room, and whispered, “Ok, quick—we have a minute now.” He almost didn’t realize what she was saying, but then he nodded and followed at as close to a trot as he could manage with a soggy diaper between his legs. He entered the work room, and Julie closed the door behind him. She was all business. “Ok, pants down, hop up,” she said briskly, patting the exam table, where a blue pad was already laid out. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He hurried to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his slacks, dropping them to the floor. He yanked down his boxers to reveal a drooping diaper. He saw that the yellow line down the front was now blue. He turned and eased himself up onto the table. “Okay, swing around and lie down,” she instructed. She held a dry diaper in her hand, placing it next to a box of baby wipes and the bottle of baby powder she had laid out on the nearby shelf. He did so quickly. He didn’t want to slow her down and miss his chance for a dry diaper. Once he was lying down, he felt her hands at the tapes on the front of the diaper and felt a rush of cool air on his privates. He suddenly felt a cold wet pressure and looked down to see her vigorously wiping him down. She pressed the wipe across his pubic hair, then used the wipe to grab his penis, quickly stroking it down to the tip and releasing it efficiently. He felt her touch his testicles, stretching the skin as she wiped these as well. She turned the wipe over and fed it along his inner thighs and the creases there, then said, “Up.” He only had to think for a second before realizing what she wanted him to do. He reached down to grab his knees and help pull his legs and hips up, spreading his knees as widely as he could. Again he felt silly exposing himself to her like this, but she wasn’t snickering or laughing. Instead, he felt the wet diaper being pulled from under him. He felt another wipe move quickly across his buttocks, and then into his crack, moving up toward his anus. She brushed over it firmly, and he thought she paused slightly here, giving it a little extra pressure before moving up to the back of his scrotum. Suddenly a nice soft dry cushion pushed against his bottom, and a cool sensation as she sprinkled some new powder on it. She directed him, “Down.” He lowered himself obediently, and felt the new diaper under him. She sprinkled a little more powder in the front, then grasped the diaper and pulled it up through his legs, having to reach around his pants, which tethered his legs together. She stretched it tightly over his penis, taping it down. “All done! Go ahead and swing around and get up. You can pull your pants up. We’ll have another patient ready for you in just a moment.” She popped open the door and strode out, brushing a little baby powder off her hands as she went. He glanced down and realized the whole thing had barely taken a single minute. And he felt…good. Dry, cozy, comfortable. He smiled for the first time that day, grateful to Julie for her kindness. “Thanks!” he called after her and was rewarded with a little smile as she turned toward the waiting room to call a patient back. The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. He kept up easily, and was rewarded with a very happy nurse. She smiled at him frequently, and seemed to anticipate his every nursing need. They were quite efficient, and finished seeing patients on time for the first time he could remember. All that remained was the rest of the shared task list, which he liked to clean up as much as possible by the end of the day. He worked at his computer, finishing up tasks and calling patients with results. Near the end, Julie came and stood next to him. He turned and looked up at her. She raised her eyebrows. “Anything else for me?” “No, I think we’re good. You can get out of here if you want.” “Great! Then let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” She locked the door and walked to the cabinet with the blue pads. He had actually forgotten for a moment that he was still wearing a diaper. He looked down self-consciously. “Well, I’m sure I can take care of it myself at this point.” He saw her purse her lips slightly. “I mean, it’s just taking off the diaper, right? Not much chance I can screw that up.” “Oh, I think it is part of my responsibility to return you to your off-work state. I’ll feel better knowing you are yourself again, you know? Pants down, hop up!” She smiled expectantly. He felt himself redden again. This seemed unnecessary, but she had been nice before, and he liked the camaraderie they had developed. He didn’t want to disappoint her, and at the end of the day his fatigue made it easier not to argue. He slowly rose and walked over to her. He lowered his pants and boxers and laid back on the table. She tapped the insides of his knees and he let them fall apart self-consciously. She untaped him and pulled back the diaper. “You’re dry,” she commented, sounding a little surprised. “Well, I didn’t have to go,” he lied, feeling the pressure in his bladder. The truth was that he still didn’t want to appear as though he liked the idea, no matter the “convenience,” and thought he could hold out. “Hmm,” she said doubtfully. “I saw how much you drank at lunch, so I’m not sure I believe you. And we’re not going to save the diaper for reuse anyway, so there’s no point in your bladder being uncomfortable.” She was wiping his penis and testicles, a little more slowly than earlier, but he was grateful to observe that she didn’t seem to be lingering. She was all business, thank goodness. And so far, he’d been able to avoid an erection. He wasn’t sure he could handle that embarrassment. “Up,” she directed, and he obeyed. He felt the cool wetness spread across his buttocks, then invade the cleft between them. As before, he felt it hesitate and poke a little at his anus. He flinched slightly, but then realized she had moved on. But then he felt a sharp pulling from somewhere back behind his testicles. “You know, this has to go,” she mused, staring between his legs. “What?” he asked, somewhat alarmed and confused. “All of this messy hair. It is making it harder to clean. I’d like you to shave it tonight. Everything from here,” and here she indicated his testicles, “on back, should be completely nice and smooth.” He felt the diaper pulled out, and was instructed, “Down.” There was no dry diaper underneath this time when he set his feet back down, knees spread wide, and no powdery smell. She gestured at his pubic hair. “I won’t insist on shaving all of that,” she said, wrapping up the wipes inside the used diaper, “although my personal preference is to keep it much shorter and more neatly trimmed, if you keep it at all. But the front hair is less important for keeping you clean. The hair behind your penis, though, shouldn’t be there tomorrow.” She helped him sit up and looked him directly in the eye, as he had not yet acknowledged her remarks. “Okay? Can I get a ‘Yes, ma’am’ please?” He felt confused. This was her only criticism of his genital area. He hadn’t ever thought about it. It hurt to hear any criticism, of course, and he felt himself wanting to please her. She was so nice when she was happy. But it was weird and embarrassing to talk about. He wasn’t sure she should care, but he obviously wasn’t experienced at changing diapers. “Um, yes, ma’am,” he said distractedly. “Have you ever shaved down there? Do you have a real razor?” “No,” he said. “I have an electric razor.” She threw away the diaper and blue pad. “Well, go out and buy a nice manual razor. They’re not expensive, and I’ll want you to keep yourself nice and smooth down there. It’s your choice, but I think you’ll find the ones marketed to women to be better for this area. “You could use soap, or shaving cream, but you’ll probably want to do your shaving in the shower or the bathtub. You’ll need to stretch the skin, and until you have practiced, go slowly.” She was packing up her laptop and locking it in the cabinet. “Did you hear what I said before? Shall I repeat it? I’d like you to shave the back of your penis, your entire scrotum, and all the hair around your bottom. If you want to keep the hair in front, I guess that’s okay, but cut it nice and short, okay?” He was staring at the diaper cabinet, unable to believe he was having this conversation and not really wanting to engage. She stood watching him, apparently aware of his discomfort, smiling slightly. She turned up the heat. “What do you think? Crop the front short? Or just shave it completely off and be smooth all over?” He was shaken out of his stupor by the realization that she actually expected an answer. “Can…we just not talk about this now? It’s…I’m…I just want to finish my work. May I get dressed?” She smiled. “Of course. I didn’t mean to slow you down. But take care of that hair problem somehow tonight, okay? Say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’” “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, standing up and pulling up his boxers and khakis. She picked up her purse and came over and touched him on his arm. “You were a good boy today. Thanks for helping me to get our work done on time so I can see my family. Your cooperation means a lot to me. I hope it wasn’t too embarrassing for you.” It was, but he liked her smile. He didn’t want to argue with her. It was nice to think of today’s weirdness as something he was doing as a favor to her. “No, no, of course. Happy to help out.” “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, maybe a moment earlier than usual to get you ready, okay?” she asked. “And remember, nice and smooth. Good night!” “Good night,” he said, happy to be done with the conversation. She was exasperatingly direct about things! The embarrassment had taken a toll on him today. He started packing up his things. She walked away, jingling her car keys, very satisfied with her progress today. She had wanted to go further, faster, of course. She had so many ideas and plans, but she had to pace herself, allow him to fall deeper, deeply enough that he wouldn’t be able to get out. But she didn’t want him to be an unwilling victim. Instead, for now, she enjoyed the game of getting him to agree to do more and more embarrassing things, all because she said to do it. It was a little fun seeing his ambivalence and confusion about wanting to please her and yet feeling such obvious and intense humiliation. Being in charge always satisfied her, and she was not surprised to feel just how much sexual pleasure she felt today bossing her doctor around. It would make what she was planning a lot more fun. She had a long list of activities in her imagination, and after today, she was optimistic that she might get to try many of them. Yes, it had been a great day, and she couldn’t wait for tomorrow. She smiled. Chapter 3 He climbed into the hot shower with some apprehension. While he welcomed the relaxing warmth, he did not feel up to the task at hand. He let the water wash over him, thinking about the day he had just put behind him. He had let Julie have her way, rather than confront her at any point along the way. He knew that was stupid. Was he crazy to play along with her? She seemed so capable and smart, and funny, and nice, but the things she was asking him to do were just insane. He had sacrificed a lot to be a doctor, but she was asking him to give up his dignity, and he was finding it very hard to do. While her rationale seemed noble–he would do almost anything for his patients–at no time during his training had anyone ever suggested he avoid the bathroom in favor of a diaper. He hadn’t really ever heard of that before, but she seemed to make it sound relatively normal. Maybe he really had simply been sheltered. Astronauts? Race car drivers? Maybe he should google it to see. He had stopped at a pharmacy on the way home and found a women’s razor and some shaving cream. Thank goodness, no one looked at him strangely. Maybe they assumed he had a wife? He actually didn’t have a problem with shaving himself down there. He knew from his exams of young people that it was common these days, and even expected. But he had never felt comfortable about how exactly to do it. How much hair should he leave? He’d worried that shaving make him seem like he was trying too hard. He hadn’t known up until now. He was happy to have a little guidance from someone, anyone, though it would have been more natural coming from a lover. Instead, it was coming from his employee. And he was fairly sure that very few men shaved themselves for “ease in cleaning” the way he was instructed to. But if she was going to be looking at him there, he didn’t want her to be judging him every time she pulled down his diaper. And if it could make her smile—he loved her smile. He imagined her smiling at him tomorrow when she saw that he had obeyed her, and it made him feel warm inside. As he washed himself, he wondered just how many times she would be actually be seeing him down there. While she hadn’t been specific, she did agree to discuss it tomorrow. What could he say to get her to drop this whole diaper thing? Certainly she had to agree that he had played along, and that they made a good team. His willingness to share her goals could not be doubted, right? They tried it her way, it would be only fair to give him the benefit of the doubt. But nothing that had happened over the last 24 hours had seemed logical or predictable to him. He pointed the water away from his body and sprayed out a tiny bit of shaving lotion. He had trimmed his pubic hair before his shower, so he just needed to shave the hard to reach places. He had never tried this before, and just wanted to be very careful. He remembered what Julie had said, and stretched out his scrotum to make it easier. How did she know about that? He wondered. He supposed that some couples were intimate in different ways, but he had never shaved (or been shaved by) a partner. Well, he hadn’t really had more than a brief partner or two. Medical school and residency weren’t really conducive to a busy social life. He was book smart, but didn’t know much about relationships. Julie had a child, so her past sexual history might be much different. And maybe much more interesting. He slowly worked his way back, spreading his legs awkwardly and craning his neck to see. This might be easier in a bathtub, but he didn’t have one. Still, he was careful, as Julie advised, and managed to finish without cutting himself. He rinsed off and turned off the water. He dried himself and checked himself out in his bathroom mirror. Interesting. He didn’t mind the new look. He ran his fingers over the newly-hairless parts of his body. That felt so foreign, but nice. He could get ready for bed in a few minutes, but he decided to explore the new feel in a little more depth first. It was kind of erotic, wasn’t it, to have shaved himself because a woman asked him to? It felt so nice. He couldn’t help thinking about Julie as he made himself feel very, very good. Chapter 4 The next morning, he made it to work early. This was part of the plan he had come up with overnight to make his day easier. If he was on top of his task list, he might be more likely to persuade Julie to use the bathroom. He had made a point to pick out underwear that didn’t have holes in them: it was weird to have to consider Julie seeing his underpants, but he wanted to make as good an impression as possible. He didn’t have anything to drink for breakfast, and he wasn’t planning to drink anything all morning. The less he needed to pee, the less he needed to be changed. However, he was considering the likelihood that he would need to pee early during lunch so that he could start the afternoon with an empty bladder and a dry diaper. Most of all, he was going to make sure he spent some time discussing alternative arrangements with Julie for the future. Being shy was no excuse not to be assertive about his preferences. He was polishing off the few accumulated tasks from the overnight when Julie walked in. “Good morning!” she chirped happily. “Ready for the day?” “Yep, I guess so,” he replied, trying to sound as cheerful as she was. But his stress at having to play her game was probably showing through his façade. “I’m assuming you mean, ‘yes, ma’am,’” she noted quietly, putting down her purse, her smile fading a little. “Isn’t that right?” He swallowed. If he wanted something from her, it was a bad idea to get off on the wrong foot from the beginning. Why this little bit of protocol was important to her nagged at him a little bit, but he couldn’t dwell on it without potentially annoying her further. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry about that.” She looked back at him, the smile retaking her face. “I thought so. No harm done.” She looked at the clock. “I think we just have time to get you changed before seeing patients. Okay?” He was polite this time. “Yes, ma’am.” She smiled at him as she shut and locked the door. “Ooh, I love it when I can hear your manners! Okay, pants down. Hop up.” As he stood and began fumbling with his pants, she strode over to the cabinet and retrieved a diaper and blue pad. “You had some homework last night. How’d you do?” He waited, pants around his ankles, for her to put the blue pad down. “Okay, I guess.” He sat on the pad and when she raised her eyebrows expectantly, swung around and lay down. He had been satisfied with the job he’d done and thought she would be pleased, but, when it came right down to it now, found himself just as hesitant to expose himself to her as he had been yesterday. She tapped the inside of his knees. “Come on, now. You know better than that,” she chided, apparently not thinking his legs were spread widely enough. He leaned them out, but they wouldn’t go further. “But—I—“ he stammered, unable to move them. She appraised the situation, then nodded. “Ah,” she said, grasping his pants and yanking them down further to his ankles. “You didn’t have your pants down far enough.” With his pants bunched up down at his shoes, he was able to let his legs fall apart completely, giving her the access she wanted to his diaper area. She moved up so that she stood next to him to get a closer look. “Oh,” she said with an impressed look. “You did well. Doesn’t that look nice?” Her hand reached out to his closely trimmed pubic hair, touching it and even caressing it gently. She traced the outline of it. He was initially shocked at the contact. She hadn’t actually touched him before this, except with a baby wipe in her hand. Lying back, he could see her standing above him, arm outstretched, but couldn’t see her hand, which just seemed to be dancing across his pubic area. Suddenly he felt her fingers on his penis, gently stroking that! They moved slowly from the base down to—but not onto—the tip. He gasped, and saw her smile appreciatively. He felt her lift his penis up and run her finger down the underside from the sensitive area down to the base again. He knew it would happen even before he felt it. His penis started to stiffen. She seemed not to notice at first, holding it up with one hand and now moving her other hand to caress his smooth testicles. Wow, he thought. That feels incredible. The lack of any other contact on his body and the gentle minimalist touch on his genitalia made this feel even more exquisite. Her fingers continued their exploration down and back behind his scrotum, and he stopped being aware of anything around him. He missed it when she said, “Up, please,” to him. He did notice when she took her hands away and gave him a light smack on the buttocks. “Excuse me, did we forget since yesterday? Do you remember what ‘up’ means?” His eyes snapped open at the gentle smack to his bottom. He quickly lifted his hips and grabbed his knees, pulling them towards his head and as far apart as possible. He was rewarded with a “That’s it, ooh, smooth.” She cooed as her hand found him again, touching his scrotum, and making its way toward his anus. He stopped breathing as she traced a little circle around it slowly, then continued up his cleft toward his back. Suddenly he felt both hands across his buttocks, again caressing and circling the area. “Now, that is MUCH better than yesterday. There are a few little hairs you might have missed, but you did great for a first try.” He noticed her speaking to him in a tone that would have been more appropriate for a child than an adult, but didn’t mind. He just wanted her touching him again. But then he felt the familiar soft thick presence of the diaper under him. “Down,” she said. Oh, crap. He thought. He was hard as a rock, and his folded legs were concealing it. He hesitated obeying her, wondering how he could avoid showing himself to her in this state. Maybe he could delay for a moment? If he put his legs down now, there would be no way she could miss— “Ow!” he yelled, as he felt a sharp smack–much harder this time–on his bottom. He involuntarily released his knees in defense, and his legs straightened to protect himself. “When I ask you to do something, I expect you to listen. That is the second time you…” She trailed off when she saw his stiff penis bobbing up and down. He tried to cover himself with his hands, pulling his knees together as well. To his horror, he saw her break into a wide smile. “Now that makes my day. I was starting to think you didn’t like me. It’s quite a compliment, you know?” He remained huddled, covering himself as best he could. She walked over to the refrigerator that held the vaccines, momentarily turning her back to him. “I know it has a mind of its own. I’m familiar with the bodies of boys. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” She pulled something out and turned back to him. “However, it does present a little bit of a problem for your diaper, of course. We need a good seal, and your peepee can’t be pointed up like that, or we’ll get some awkward leakage later. So we need some way to get rid of that little stiffy.” She held out one hand and touched his knees, still clenched together desperately. “These knees are really going to get you in trouble with me, I can tell. I don’t want to have to tell you again to spread them wide open,” she told him, the smile gone. “NOW.” Slowly, he opened his knees but kept his hands inefficiently cupped around his engorged penis. “That’s better,” she said. “Now, your hands need to find a better place to be. How about behind your head?” He hesitated. This was humiliating. She slapped his hands sharply. “We don’t have time for this,” she said. “If you want to have time for me to change you AT ALL today, let’s get going.” He reluctantly released his penis and put his hands behind his head. There was a trace of a smirk on her face which she apparently was trying to hide. He closed his eyes in shame. But they flew open wide again when he felt something shockingly cold over his groin. Gasping, he looked down, seeing her holding an ice pack to his penis. It was large, and she had wrapped it around it, allowing it to cover his testicles and inner thighs as well. “Holy shit!” he sputtered. “That’s too much!” His hands became unclasped from behind his head, but he stopped them from interfering, sensing that was too much. He glanced at her face, and caught a very stern look he had only seen on his mother’s face. “Hands,” was all she said, her voice as cold as the ice pack. Slowly, he put them back. Her face relaxed a little, but she kept eye contact, forcing him to drop his eyes and finally close them in defeat. His groin was starting to feel numb now. He pretended he was somewhere else. “I don’t like cursing,” she told him sternly. Then, more to herself, “If it becomes a problem, maybe we’ll have to see how you like a little mouth-soaping.” His eyes widened as her words brought him back to reality. He felt like she had to be kidding, but her expression was totally serious. And he was learning to take her seriously. How had he gotten himself into this nightmare? He closed his eyes again. After another minute, he heard the ice rattle and looked down to see that the pack was gone. She was turning back to the refrigerator. He was numb enough that he couldn’t have felt it. He lifted his head and noticed that his penis was limp again, pale white, and shrunken as if he were a little boy. “That will make things easier,” she commented. She turned back, grabbed a towel, and brusquely patted him dry, the condensation having dampened the skin. She sprinkled some baby powder over him and pulled the diaper up tightly, taping him securely, then patted him over his penis, through the diaper. “Ok, mission accomplished, despite the detour. You can get dressed.” He stood and rapidly pulled his pants up. She cleared her throat. “Did you have something you wanted to say to me?” She was suddenly a stickler for manners, apparently. “Thank you.” She raised her eyebrows. “…Ma’am,” he added quickly. This seemed to satisfy her, and she turned to unlock the door. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I almost forgot.” She went to her purse, pulling out a tall cup with a lid and a hard straw. He saw that it was colored baby blue and had teddy bears on it. “I saw that you were a little dehydrated yesterday.” His confusion must have registered on his face. She explained, “The pee in your diaper was too dark yellow. As you know, it ought to be nearly clear. It is easy to fall behind on your hydration during a busy day, and I don’t want our…arrangement,” and here she looked at his padded diaper area, “to discourage hydration. That could influence your health negatively, after all.” She smiled. He thought it seemed a little mischievous. “So I vow to help you remember to drink throughout the day.” He stared at the cup, which appeared to be full. “It’s water. Sorry if the cup looks a little young for your age, but it’s all I had at home. How about if we say that you should have this drunk by 10am? We can do another by the time you start in the afternoon, and a third by 3pm. That should keep your kidneys working. We’re a team! And I’ll keep you healthy.” His heart sank. He didn’t want to refuse her. She seemed to have a temper today. But she was going to force him to wet his diaper frequently today. “Of course, if your urine is still too dark, we can adjust how often you have to empty it.” The door was open now, and she patted his puffy behind on her way out to get the first patient. “Time for work!” Chapter 5 It was hard for him to focus on anything other than the memory of her touch on his newly shaven body. He couldn’t stop thinking about her smile at his erection, and her gentle, sensitive fingers. Of course, that made him hard all over again, which was extremely awkward. Every time he passed Julie or talked to her in the workroom, she flashed a little smile that seemed designed to set him off again. It was like she knew just what she was doing to him. It was not overtly flirtatious, on the surface being completely professional, but it was fairly close to the line. He could barely feel pressure through his diaper, but that didn’t keep him from trying to put some surreptitious pressure on himself when he could. Ordinarily, in this situation, he might excuse himself and head to the bathroom for just a few minutes to “take care of” the situation, but that was now apparently off the table. He felt frustrated, and comforted himself thinking about how he would be able to make himself more comfortable after work. But that seemed like a long way off. At 9:30, Julie caught him in between rooms, teddy bear cup in hand. She didn’t say anything, but held it out to him expectantly. It was still full. He reluctantly accepted it and sipped a little, handing it back with a very small smile. “Thanks,” he said halfheartedly. She didn’t accept it back. “Nice try,” she said, smirking. “Drink up!” He set his laptop down, and tried not to glare at her. He stood in the hall, sucking water through the straw, until he sucked air. At this point, she beamed, whispering, “Good boy! I’ll see you later,” looking at his diaper meaningfully. He shook his head and went in with his next patient. Within an hour, his bladder was begging for relief. He was able to hold off until 11, but decided to pee a little into his diaper to make himself comfortable enough to finish the morning. He walked nonchalantly into the work room, pretending to look at a chart. He had just about relaxed enough to start peeing when Julie entered. Seeing him there, she strode over and cupped his crotch. “Nothing yet, huh? Is that why you’re back here? Did you duck in here to pee in your diaper?” He reddened. He had hoped for some privacy. “I do have to go, but…I can wait if you need something.” She smiled a little. “Oh, no, I don’t need anything.” She stood silently, a little knowing smile playing across her face. He glanced around, nervously. “Is there a reason you like to be here for this? It’s a little weird. Not to mention that it makes it harder to go…” She folded her arms. “I’m not sure why it should bother you. It is a natural bodily process, we’re both medical professionals. Also, one of the principal benefits of your diaper is that you can go right in public. Seems like most people would LOVE that feature. So why not take advantage of that?” He still looked dubious, but she seemed like a lawyer who had wrapped up a case. He had always been shy about the bathroom; he even hesitated using urinals in a crowded men’s room. Wouldn’t most people feel awkward in this situation? Didn’t he have a right to pee in private? “I really like to be alone sometimes. Would you mind waiting for me outside?” She studied him. “Yes, I mind. You gave up the right to privacy. You proved you can’t be trusted in the potty by yourself. You’ve lost your potty privileges. So, I don’t feel any need to honor your dignity by having to inconvenience myself so you can be alone.” She paused. “And…I have to admit that I enjoy your embarrassment a little bit. It seems so silly to be hung up about peeing in front of me, so I feel like we should get you past that. Why not today?” Her seemingly rational and unsympathetic approach exasperated him, as did her willingness to talk about things that should be private. If there was anything that might be worse than peeing in front of her, it would be talking about his bathroom functions. She seemed to recognize this, and even enjoy it. But the joy she was taking seemed friendly rather than malicious. She really did seem interested in helping him, even as she forced him to do things that were embarrassing. So he closed his eyes as he had done before and concentrated on relieving himself, pretending he was alone. He was able, after a moment, to relax enough to pee, and he drained some of his bladder. He stopped himself before he was done, however, because he didn’t want to be so wet that he might leak. He opened his eyes, expecting that she might have left again. But this time she was still standing in front of him, arms folded, eyebrows raised, with eyes that shifted between his face and his diaper. When she saw his eyes open, she again stepped forward and felt the full warm diaper. She lifted and squeezed gently, apparently gauging the product of his performance. Then she smiled, and patted him on the bottom. “Good work! That wasn’t so hard, was it? We’ll take care of that in a little while. You’re fine for a bit. Better get back to work for now.” And she turned on her heel and left before he had the chance to argue. He stared after her blankly. She didn’t seem upset, just unmotivated to change his diaper. There was a patient waiting. Maybe she wanted to be caught up first. He tried to ignore the full warm bulk between his legs, and focus on his work. He moved slowly, sat carefully, and felt the memorable squishing sensation. He was still sure he couldn’t possibly get used to that. But he had a little more confidence that he could work with it. He made sure he was efficient, and after 2 more appointments, he found Julie waiting in the hall for him. She didn’t say anything, just turned and walked down the short hall toward the workroom. He waddled after her quickly, aware of his rustling, feeling the wet diaper shift with each step. She locked the door after him, and he heard the familiar, “Pants down, hop up!” He didn’t hesitate. She was quick this time, which was good. This time, even without her fingers actively touching him directly, except with the wipe, he felt himself start to stiffen. The last encounter had sexualized the whole thing for him, and his waning embarrassment unfortunately left him more able to focus on the sensations and situation. She seemed to realize the possibility, and efficiently got a dry diaper taped on him quickly. He gratefully pulled his pants up, noting that less than a minute had elapsed. She again patted his bottom as she sent him back to work. He did notice that his teddy bear cup appeared to be full again, but she wasn’t insisting on draining it yet, so he didn’t ask. But by the time his morning was over, she greeted him with it, sending him on the way to lunch with a full cup of water. He actually didn’t mind, because he was planning on trying to wet his diaper early enough that she would change it before the afternoon started. If he had to play this game, he was going to play it smart. He drained the cup at the beginning of the meal, then managed to wet himself surreptitiously while standing in the lunchroom listening to others talk. Wetting himself right in front of other people made him nervous—could they tell? It felt so visible, but no one around him seemed to notice or care. The doctors ate together, often pestered by pharmaceutical representatives, while the nurses ate with the rest of the staff in another, larger room. But everyone retrieved their lunch together and threw their trash out in the same place, and he wasn’t surprised, as he squeezed the last few drops into his diaper, to see Julie watching him out of the corner of his eye. How did she always know? “New cup today?” One of his colleagues pointed at the teddy bear design as they sat down to eat. “Cute.” He blushed. “It’s Julie’s, but she’s letting me borrow it.” His colleague nodded. “Whatever works, I guess. You guys finished a little early today. Light schedule?” He shook his head. “Well, not really. Maybe easier patients?” But he suspected that they had just been particularly efficient that morning. Teamwork could really help the day fly by. Chapter 6 He sloshed back to the workroom to work on his task list on the computer, knowing that he’d be more likely to be changed promptly if there was not a backlog of work. He whittled it down nicely over the next 15 minutes, so that when Julie walked through the door, he only had a call to return to someone who wasn’t home. She walked up behind him and patted him on the shoulder. “Look who’s been busy!” she said, impressed. “Amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it.” He turned his head to meet her gaze. She winked knowingly. “Looks like you have a minute to get more comfortable. Interested?” He nodded. “Yes, please. I’m—“ He stopped self-consciously. “Damp? Uncomfortable? Soaked?” she prodded, nodding. “Why don’t we take care of that?” She went to lock the door. He stood up and undid his belt. She smiled at how far he’d come. Had it really only been yesterday that she had had to threaten him to pull his pants down? She retrieved a dry diaper. She’d left a blue pad, the wipes, and the baby powder at what had become their changing table. It wasn’t that she wanted others to know about the situation, but she also wasn’t opposed to the idea. Sooner or later, the staff would figure out that he was wearing diapers. She hadn’t yet figured out how they would explain that, but assumed it would be a urological explanation, like maybe he had bladder or prostate issues. Eventually, having him outed would make things easier. But he wasn’t sure his ego could take it yet. Slow and steady wins the race. This race was definitely on, and it looked like she was winning. He had his pants down and was up on the table, lying back, legs stretched widely apart. She untaped his diaper and pulled it down, breathing in the familiar mix of urine and powder that she liked so much. The diaper was indeed soaked, and this also made her happy. He had settled in nicely to following her rules, which certainly boded well for the future. It had been nothing more than pure luck, really, that they had been paired upon her hiring, but there was nothing coincidental about where they were today. She had immediately recognized his submissive nature in the way he dropped his eyes when they talked. He was socially a little shy in an appealing way. She had gently extended some work-appropriate flirtation, and his reaction to these very bland comments had confirmed both his social inexperience and receptiveness to her leadership. He might be smart and educated, but that didn’t mean he knew his way around dating or sex. It hadn’t taken long for her to start daydreaming about him. Julie was in her late twenties, old enough to have a failed marriage but young enough to retain a healthy interest in having another. Her two young children took a lot of energy, and she could see the advantage of having a man in her life. But this time, it would have to be on her terms. And she had decided firmly on her terms at about the same time she had kicked her ex-husband out of her house and life. She had taken two other jobs since her kids were born, one at a different doctor’s office. There were several young doctors, and she realized she shared plenty in common with these men, who were generally smart and professional. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could find someone she could build a relationship with, the way she wanted it? When she couldn’t get the hours she needed to pay her rent, she first worked at a nursing home, and still had friends there. She generally didn’t like the hours, so she had switched back to an outpatient clinic. She would sometimes cover her friends’ shifts for extra money, however. This job was definitely the best she had found. She had lucked into finding a gentle, smart, and apparently submissive young doctor–who might turn out to be a good partner. It seemed too good to be true, and she knew she might never get another opportunity like this one. So she had planned her ambush, thought through what might motivate him, and had a very careful blueprint for drawing him into her life. The plan made good use of her willingness to embarrass him into cooperating. She would motivate him by appealing to his desire to help her, and to help his patients. She wasn’t afraid to shame or bully him if needed, but so far she hadn’t needed to resort to that. She felt on solid footing now. He’d accepted her as being in charge, and seemed to respond well to her mommy’s-the-boss repertoire. He was unaccustomed to being subservient, but by nature seemed to be a natural. He just needed a crash course in what she expected. She felt strongly that if she handled it right, she could indoctrinate him any way she chose. She just needed the right balance of being stern and kind, and she needed to keep him focused on the benefits of obeying her. She pulled out a baby wipe. Chapter 7 He lay obediently with his feet down and knees far apart, exposing himself to Julie as she shocked his pubic skin with her cold wipe. She brought it over his shortened hair, then grasped his penis and efficiently wrapped her fingers and thumb around it, pulling down toward the tip quickly. She cupped and wiped his scrotum, then quietly commanded, “Up.” He raised his legs as he thought about how absurd this situation was. When he came to work yesterday, he would never have believed any of this. But, odd as it sounded, he was starting to trust Julie. Even though she had been–what was the word? stern?–with him yesterday, everything she had done since then had been reassuring. She kept emphasizing efficiency and service to patients. He believed strongly in these things, and had now seen that the two of them, working together, were a very good team. She had always seemed bright, witty, and compassionate, but the last 24 hours had seen her up her game with their patients. It was almost worth it. But wait. Surely it wasn’t completely worth it. Lying naked in front of her was absolutely humiliating, he thought, as she threw away the first wipe and retrieved another fresh one, which—whew!—was cold again, and drew it across his bottom. He had never been outgoing, and she was the kind of person who befuddled him. She was fearless and direct. She did not seem to care about his embarrassment. But Julie also seemed to be so focused on working together for a cause he could understand, and she wasn’t making fun of his nakedness or of his acquiescence. He had certainly met women who had been unimpressed with his shyness and trouble making small talk. Some early disasters with girls had left him tentative and quiet. He counted himself lucky to have had a serious girlfriend in college and another in medical school. They had been even less outgoing than he, and he’d at least had some sexual experience. But women like Julie, while intriguing to him, scared him and left him uncertain. Now, as she brought the wipe down his crack toward his anus, he wouldn’t know how to confront her about the bizarreness of how she was treating him. He felt her poke his anus, twisting the wipe. This didn’t hurt, but he didn’t understand why she did it. Maybe if he asked nicely, she would tell him, or (preferably) stop. After this came the cool sprinkle of the baby powder, with the scent eventually wafting up. Then the new diaper slipped under his bottom, and the direction, “Down.” The new crinkly bulk pulled up over him, and taped down tightly. “Okay, I’ll go check to see if there is a patient waiting.” He sat up, legs hanging off the side of the table, gathered his courage, and asked his question. “Do you mind if I ask you something?” Her face became guarded for an instant, then cleared. “No, of course not. What is it, sweetie?” “Sweetie” was nice, he thought at first blush. He’d have to consider that, but not now. “Why do you do that poking thing every time?” He couldn’t meet her gaze, embarrassed at having to ask the question at all. While he hated talking about anything diaper- or bathroom-related, he disliked the anal probing (that’s what it was, right?) even more. “What poking?” She seemed genuinely confused, then said, “Oh, you mean when I’m cleaning your bottom?” He nodded, staring at the floor. He heard her say, “I can’t hear your manners.” He looked up, then realized what she meant. “Yes. Yes, ma’am.” She smiled brightly. “That’s much better. I love it when you’re polite.” She came back over and sat next to him. He became aware of the fact that he had failed to pull up his pants. He was sitting next to her with his pants and boxers down around his ankles, a puffy diaper showing under his shirttail. But this didn’t seem like the right time to remedy that. It would have to wait. At the same time, it made their conversation a little awkward, since it seemed to make her the adult. It was hard to plead for his dignity when he was happy sitting in just a diaper. “Well,” she said, knitting her brow, apparently deciding how to address his question. “That is a good question. I wasn’t going to bring up the topic with you so soon, but since you’ve asked, we should discuss it.” She scooted a little away on the table and then turned to face him, best she could. “The first time, yesterday, it was just habit. As you know, I have two little boys, both of whom are still in diapers. The older one is just getting interested in the potty. “I change them the same way I change you, of course, and cleaning their bottoms is just a part of that. An important part of that, wouldn’t you agree? Nobody likes a dirty bottom,” she said, as if it was a religious tenet of some common faith they shared. “So yesterday, I just did to you what I usually do for them, just to make sure their bottoms are clean. “I always wipe them, then check the wipe to see if it is clean. You know, to see if they need more attention down there. You can imagine my surprise yesterday, when I checked the wipe after cleaning your bottom, the wipe came away a little dirty. Apparently you don’t wipe enough after you poop.” He sat, shocked, and didn’t know how to respond. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, because I imagine it’s something most people would be sensitive about, so I wasn’t going to bring it up. But…you asked…” Julie was watching his face, monitoring his reaction. “It’s not that big a deal to me, you understand. I’ve generally noticed that men, male patients, tend not to pay as much attention to wiping, so I wasn’t surprised. But you’re welcome to work on that a little bit if you want.” She hopped up. “If you look clean for a few days in a row, maybe I’ll just do spot checks,” she said, smiling, trying unsuccessfully to meet his eyes, which were firmly staring at the floor. “I’m sure you want to be clean, and I want that, too. I’ll quit poking your bottom once you show me you can clean yourself up to my standards. Deal?” His cheeks burned, unable to believe they were talking about this most basic of bathroom habits. His stunned silence was interrupted by her hand on his chin, lifting his face until he couldn’t help but look in her eyes. He expected them to be critical, disgusted, accusatory. But they weren’t. Julie’s eyes were warm and happy. Now that he was looking into them, he couldn’t remember what she had asked. “Deal?” she said again, amused at his distraction. “Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically, unsure at first what he had just agreed to. But she seemed to want him to agree. His answer appeared to make her happy, so that was good. “That’s my good boy,” she said, releasing his chin and his gaze, and looking down at him. He was still sitting in his diaper with his pants around his ankles. “Now you’d better get your pants pulled up so I can open the door. We’ll have a patient waiting, I expect.” He hadn’t realized he was still half undressed. He jumped off the exam table and pulled up his pants, hurriedly trying to zip and buckle himself. She smiled fondly at his hurried efforts, then disappeared to start the afternoon. He didn’t really have time to ponder her comments, as they were a little behind due to his question. By 2:30, however, he really needed to pee, and found a full teddy bear cup at his work station in between patients. He wet himself nearly without thinking as he downed the cup under her approving eyes. When she turned away immediately to busy herself with a different task, he understood that it wasn’t time to be changed yet. But he worked quickly, and was rewarded with Julie waiting outside a patient room 30 minutes later. She gave him a “follow me” look he had learned to recognize, and obediently did so. The familiar, “Pants down, hop up!” led to a quick dry diaper, and he was able to finish the afternoon quickly. Chapter 8 At the end of the day, he had only a few tasks to complete on his computer and a single phone call to make. He was amazed, until he realized that not only had he been more efficient, but Julie had, too. She had handled more of his work than he was used to, and as a result, they didn’t have much to do after the patients had gone. That was a nice change. “Would you like to get out of that wet diaper?” she asked, as she watched him finish a final note documenting a phone call. He was confused. “What?” “Your diaper is wet. It’s okay to get you cleaned up and ready for home.” She had that amused look again. He hadn’t realized that he was sitting in a wet diaper. If he thought back, of course, he could remember wetting it, but maybe he had apparently gotten a little used to the sensation. That didn’t seem like a good sign. It reminded him of something. “Yes, please,” he said, getting up and unbuckling his pants. She had the door locked. “Ooh, I like your manners.” She came over and helped him lie down. He decided that if she was happy, he should ask his question now. “Umm…may I ask another question?” She was untaping his diaper and pulling it down. Her cold wipe came out. “Of course, sweetheart,” she cooed. He felt the cool sensation across his pubic area, then down, down, encircling his penis. And gently wiping, and wiping…was she lingering a little? He felt himself stiffen quickly. Uh-oh. His hands instinctively flew down to cover himself. “Ah—no hands,” she said, lightly smacking his hands. Embarrassed, but mindful of staying on her good side—he’d need that in a moment, he reluctantly moved his arms back up above his head. She could see what was happening, and apparently either didn’t mind, or—more likely, given her reaction—had intended it. What did that mean?! he wondered, growing anxious. It was wrong to let her touch him, at least like this. But he had let her do it before, so correcting her would be awkward, and he surely didn’t want to argue right before negotiating. He gulped and tried to think about anything else other than his growing excitement. That was turning out to be impossible. Her touch felt amazing! “What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowed in mock concern. Her fingers were not leaving his penis. He felt them tickle him a little, running up and down the shaft, touching under the head. No one had ever gently teased him this way, and it felt so nice. He was lost in the sensation. What was she asking him? “Umm…” “Your question. What can I answer for you?” She had him at full erection now, and gently touched him to keep his attention, but not so much as to stimulate him any closer to orgasm. Her touch was tender but almost teasing, not taking him so far that he felt he might lose control. He wondered idly if she might have done this before. He shook his head and tried to focus. “Oh, um, right. Well, yesterday, I asked when we could be done. You know, with the, um,” he looked at the cabinet and down toward her hands. “What?” she said casually, still lightly caressing him. She was obviously acutely aware of the effect she was having on him. She might have been enjoying it, but she kept a poker face. He was both having trouble focusing, but was also embarrassed to say the word. “You know, if I could be done wearing the, um…” “You can say the word diaper, you know,” she said, smiling at him. “That’s what it’s called.” “Ok,” he said, blushing. She stopped touching him for a moment. “Well, go ahead. Say the word.” He didn’t like to admit that he’d let her diaper him. But she was going to force him to say it. “Well, yesterday, you said I had to wear the…diapers…through today.” He again felt her warm hands stroke him softly. “And then we could talk about…ooh!” he gasped, as she applied the wipe to his testicles, gently stroking them now in turn. “About stopping. So…can we?” “Stop?” she asked, drawing her hands away from him abruptly. He almost instinctively raised his hips to find her again. “Do you…want to? Stop?” She looked down at him with a knowing smile. He sighed, aware that she seemed to be referring to her hands on his body. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about that. It definitely crossed a professional boundary, but her attitude seemed more flirtatious than hungry and sexual. In this position, with her hands lightly touching him there, he couldn’t really think rationally. He really wanted her touch to continue. It was so soft and nice. He closed his eyes to concentrate, but this kept him from being able to see her eyes. Her eyes were pretty; he’d never really noticed before. “I couldn’t hear you.” She spoke softly. He cleared his throat. His penis throbbed, bobbing in the air. He could imagine how ridiculous it looked, but it was begging for her touch. “I’d really like to stop wearing a diaper. You know, go back to using the bathroom.” “Mmm…because you don’t like it?” She laughed, not unkindly. “I can see that you really don’t enjoy it.” He opened his eyes briefly to see that she was smiling playfully at him. “You…seem to have become more comfortable with the situation.” She reached out and touched him again gently, making him gasp. “It’s just that I don’t think it’s professional for a doctor to wear a diaper, and—“ She grasped his penis firmly, and interrupted him. “We’ve been through this. No one can tell you are wearing a diaper, and we both decided that it is far more professional to be on-time and efficient than to be spending endless time in the bathroom, inconveniencing patients, staff, and me. This is truly a perfect solution. You’ve kept your patients waiting much less, and they are appreciative. They’ve told me so.” He couldn’t really look into her eyes and concentrate at the same time. She relaxed her grip on his penis, allowing her hand to slip gently up and down its shaft. He started breathing harder, and could hear her cooing, “You are thriving, much more efficient than you were before. And we are an awesome team. Working together, you’ve finished earlier and had more free time, AND kept patients and staff happier.” She stopped stroking, again holding his penis firmly, drawing his gaze to her face. “This arrangement WORKS, and you know it. The way we are working, you could even see an additional 2 or 3 patients per day, which would be pure profit, if I understand how it works. It seems like this”—and here she tugged on the wet diaper still tucked under his bottom—“is a small price to pay to work so well.” He swallowed. She could see his will wavering. Almost there… She moved in for the kill. She started stroking his lower belly, just above his neatly shaved pubic hair. “Do you think we are working well together?” He nodded, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t hear your manners,” she corrected gently. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured grudgingly. “Have we finished earlier these two days?” He paused just a moment before admitting, “Yes, ma’am.” She looked down briefly at his stiff penis, bobbing in the air near her hand. “Do you think I have handled this…potentially embarrassing…situation professionally?” He knew that she had had plenty of opportunities to embarrass him, but had not. “Yes, ma’am.” Except for this…wonderful…touching… “So at this point, do you think I have earned your trust?” Here she stopped touching him, and waited for him to look at her. “Yes, ma’am.” He certainly couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t understand her very well, but he had started to trust her. She smiled at him kindly as she took him in her hand again, stroking slowly. “Then my opinion is that we shouldn’t try to fix something that isn’t broken. I know it was jarring to try something new, but it is clearly working really well for us. So this time let’s commit to continuing for another week. It will give us more time to decide that these two days have not been a fluke. But I don’t think it IS a fluke. I’m so confident that I’ll promise to quit this business if you don’t also think our teamwork is flourishing after another week. That sounds reasonable, right?” Numbly, he nodded and saw her eyebrows rise briefly before quickly saying, “Yes, ma’am.” Her voice was mesmerizing, her touch transformative. Truthfully, of course, he might have said anything to make her happy when her hands were so close to him. But there was also a deeper part of him, which he was only vaguely aware of, that felt more content and cared-for over the last few days than he had in a long time. He sighed, embarrassed by this strange arrangement, but not completely unhappy with it. She was nodding and smiling. She patted his penis gently, and said, “Then let’s put that away for now.” She wrinkled her eyebrows, noting that it might be difficult to tuck him in. She wiped his bottom, shook a little more powder on him, then pressed his penis up to his belly and pulled his boxers up over it. “That will have to do for now, I suppose. Those things can be so troublesome,” she murmured to herself, though she was also thinking how easy “those things” made getting what she wanted. “Ok, sit up!” His face flushed, breathing a little heavily, he paused a second, then nodded and sat up. That was an abrupt and unwelcome end to what he had presumed would be a bit more climactic. But Julie was all business again, so while he briefly considered protesting, he suspected it wouldn’t make a difference, and could wind up making him seem pathetic. Instead, he should be professional. He took a deep breath and stood up. He stared down and noticed that his boxers tented out in front of him. She glanced over at him, smiling a bit at his predicament, then went to the sink to wash her hands. He leaned over quickly and pulled up his khakis, working at getting them fastened over his erection. Once he had, he looked more presentable. “Ok, well, thanks for all your work today…as usual. It was…a good day,” he said awkwardly, trying to regain his dignity. He started gathering up his things, putting away his laptop and mouse. She went to her purse. She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, it was,” she said, glancing up at him. “It certainly was. Thank you for being so considerate to me. I can’t tell you how much it means to be done so early and able to see my little ones.” He walked her out, grateful that he was finally dressed normally and talking to her like he might any other staff member. This felt like a more appropriate work situation, surely, than being diapered or naked in her presence. It was a relief. As they walked the short distance to their cars, which were parked at the far end of the practice’s parking lot, Julie said, “My mother takes care of the kids during the day. But she must also see to my dad as well, so I like to relieve her as soon as I can. After a day with the kids, she’ll be happy to see me so early!” She reached her car and paused for a moment. She suddenly leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re our hero, you know!” He nodded, surprised. “Well, I’m glad it worked out so well.” He realized he was blushing as he unlocked his car. He was flattered and touched, but didn’t know what else to say. “See you tomorrow?” She smiled. “You bet. Thanks again for being so thoughtful. I think we make a great team! Have a nice evening.” She got into her car, and thought more about how this relationship was going. He seemed more and more receptive to her being in charge. That opened up all sorts of possibilities. Julie liked being in charge. She had been drawn to dominance in her relationships from a young age. Controlling the supposedly stronger gender had always held appeal, and she had enjoyed this challenge while dating during nursing school. She grew used to exercising her bossy skills to get what she wanted–and needed. Oddly to her, one boy even seemed attracted to being humiliated, and she learned she didn’t mind giving him what he wanted. She learned that she had a talent for sensing tentativeness, and her comfort with confrontation seemed to put her in the driver’s seat more often than she would have expected. Her only lapse, ironically, had been her marriage, and it had only reinforced her need to control her relationships. Confused by societal expectations, she had married a man who had projected strength and confidence. She had assumed he was the kind of meat-and-potatoes man that women should marry, and had assumed she could change what she didn’t like. But he was emotionally distant. She was used to being able to lead her partners, either overtly or through more subtle manipulation. But he seemed immune for some reason. He just didn’t care. She had two children in rapid succession, and held out hope that this would draw him into their relationship, or that he would grow up. But he actually became more distant after their second son, and she decided she would rather raise her kids alone than remain married in name only. He was surprised, but later seemed relieved, when she kicked him out of their 2-bedroom apartment without asking for more than the lease in return. She hadn’t seen him since. And while it was jarring to find she had so misjudged that relationship, it taught her a lot about what was right for her. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. If she ever married again, she’d need to be in charge from the beginning. She pulled out her phone. As he got into his own car, he could distantly hear her conversation. “Yes, Mom. I’m on my way. I know! It was a good day! See you soon…” As he drove, he thought about the day. And about Julie. She was lovely and nice. Her hands were strong and confident, but felt very gentle and loving. That was going to be hard to forget. He could feel himself getting hard all over again, and he reached down to adjust himself. She was such an alluring mix of sexy and smart, but her insistence on his wearing a diaper was just weird. Wasn’t it? He thought so, but she could make it sound almost normal. The way she talked to him, it would have felt rude if to have refused. And there was a part of him that wanted to make her happy. Her smile was so pretty, and she seemed to be so happy over the last day or two. It was a little weird, but he was almost willing to do anything to see her smile. He squirmed, ready to be home and attend to himself. He thought he knew whose face he was going to be imagining tonight. Chapter 9 Despite how silly he inevitably felt allowing her to diaper him over the next week, he couldn’t deny that work was more fun. He had never felt more in sync with a nurse. She seemed to anticipate every need he had, both professionally and personally. She knew when a patient would need a test, and often had the details settled by the time he came out of a room. He was amazed at how in tune she had quickly become with his bladder habits. He tried to relieve himself out of her sight during his little “down” moments, but he often would glance around afterward, his diaper feeling newly warm, and would see her watching him pleasantly. Then she would busy herself with her work, making no move to change him until they had a break together. He started to relax and trust her judgment about that. His diaper had not leaked into his pants even once. She seemed to have a knack for timing his diaper changes. It was true that she was also the one setting out his water for him. Some days, he noticed, he was offered water more often than others. As he was zipping up his pants after a change one day, he asked her why. “Are you…still, um, keeping some sort of eye on my…hydration?” She smiled a little as she rolled up and taped the warm wet diaper he had been wearing. “Your wet diapers actually tell me a lot. I still keep a close eye on the color, judging just how wet they are and how yellow they look.” She tossed the diaper into the diaper disposal bin she had recently brought into the office for this purpose, she commented, “I want to keep my doctor healthy, you know.” She fondly patted him on his padded behind. He blushed, thinking about how she knew personal things about him that he had not even been aware of. Should he be creeped out by this invasion of privacy? He didn’t feel that way. He realized he felt a little touched, and even reassured by this gentle supervision. She was looking out for him. It had been quite a while since someone had been on his side, helping him. It felt warm and nice, he thought. As he thought about it, he realized that it felt maternal. Julie had assumed that type of role quite naturally. The nice thing was that she didn’t make him feel inferior or less like a man about surrendering that control. She didn’t make fun of him for wearing a diaper, or letting her clean him. She was just very direct and honest. Once he had adjusted to it, he could almost imagine it was normal. It was kind of nice sharing his day so intimately with someone, and not having to worry about mundane things like keeping hydrated or clean. She was a blessing. Like a mother, however, she did occasionally nag him. Nothing he didn’t deserve, though, he admitted to himself. There had been days he hadn’t shaved himself, and of course she noticed. She spent more time looking at his private area than he did, after all. “What is this?” she might ask as she brushed his stubble with a cocked eyebrow. “This isn’t the clean-shaven boy I know,” or “I like you so much better when you’re smooth,” or “Somebody hasn’t been doing his homework.” She was gentle, but firm. She was nice, but insistent. He knew where he stood, and accepted that shaving was important to her. He found himself wanting to feel nice under her hands. He liked the brief smile she had when she touched his smooth, shaven skin. And wouldn’t she usually spend just a few extra seconds touching him? It seemed so, and that was worth the effort. He wasn’t exactly getting used to that one finger she used when she cleaned him, though. It always found its way into his bottom. She did it every single time she changed him. It no longer surprised him, of course, but still didn’t feel natural or comfortable. He had started being more careful wiping himself in the bathroom, but her actions seemed to indicate that she wasn’t quite satisfied with him. Well, he wasn’t really sure what to do about that. He even googled, “how to wipe properly” to make sure he wasn’t supposed to stick the toilet paper inside, but nobody seemed to recommend that. So there didn’t seem to be anything else he could do to convince her he was doing an adequate job. And he decided that at this point, he didn’t want to have another conversation about it. Talks with her were so embarrassing! So even if he didn’t like it, he didn’t complain again. When she asked him to lift his legs, he would start to tense up, squeezing his anus closed in protest. But it didn’t matter. Her finger, wrapped with a cold wet wipe, still found its way inside him. It didn’t linger, just in and out. But he felt embarrassed to be invaded there. He never really wanted to look her in the eyes for a few minutes afterward. Julie seemed to sense this, however, and often tried to engage him either during the process or immediately afterward, calling him on his reticence if he didn’t answer right away. She seemed to be trying to get him past his embarrassment, though he wasn’t sure why she cared. He wished she would just leave his bottom alone. He’d mostly gotten past peeing in his diaper in front of her, but…there were some things that were just too private. But usually, her hands felt great. During the day, she was generally all business. She changed and cleaned him faster than he could pee and wash his hands on his own in the old days. At the end of the day, though, often amid conversation, her hands would slow down, gently caressing him with a wipe. These cleanings would last long enough that the wipe would warm up and feel so, so good. Her hands would linger everywhere, from his shaved pubic area, to his testicles, to the cleft between his cheek, and to the area right around his bottom. And once he realized that this last change was more of a leisurely and pleasurable event, he began to look forward to it. When she untaped him as he lay back on the table, his erection would spring forth, usually drawing a knowing smile from her. And she didn’t neglect his penis, either. She made sure to clean it carefully and thoroughly, deliberately stroking him. He stopped trying to hide his excitement—how could he? And she seemed to enjoy pleasuring him almost as much as he did. But she never brought him all the way to orgasm. He was not sure why, but she clearly had no interest in going that far. She would start stroking him faster and faster, gripping more firmly, until his breathing began to get more ragged and fast. But whenever he thought that today might be the day, she would stop or pause, leaving him waiting and hoping. After a moment, she might turn and dispose of the wet diaper she had removed, or she might return to stroking him. She kept him guessing. He never voiced any discontent, though. He didn’t want her to feel like he was ungrateful for what she did, or to change their intimate relationship. He thought he understood that she was trying to make this situation more enjoyable to him. He had never had any prior experience with tease and denial in a relationship. But he sensed that Julie was in control, and that it wasn’t up to him what happened. He had learned to relax and enjoy it. He puzzled over the rules that seemed to guide her behavior, though. Why did she think it was okay to caress him, but not bring him fully to orgasm? He guessed it was more professional not to cross that line. This is how he rationalized this end-of-day activity, and defended her denial of him in his mind. He would go home every single day denied and hungry, but didn’t stay that way for long. He found himself thinking about it all day in anticipation. During the day, his diaper and lack of private time kept him from touching himself. But he had no such limitations at night. He rushed home daily to relieve himself, and sometimes would pleasure himself multiple times each evening. He would see her face and imagine her hands on him whenever he masturbated, and fantasized about the two of them together. Oddly, it wasn’t only regular sex he imagined. Though he had never been turned on by leather and whips, he started imagining Julie telling him what to do in the bedroom. She seemed like she would know just what she liked, and how he could pleasure her. She took care of him during the day. He would like to take care of her in return. Despite the direction their work and personal relationship had taken, he wasn’t certain he wanted to push it further down that road. He knew all about sexual harassment, and respected her far too much to chance making her uncomfortable. He’d love to ask her out. But what if he broke what they had? It would be risky. Maybe it was better to be satisfied with their wonderful, strange intimacy just the way it was. And anyway, she seemed to have no problem asking for something if she wanted it. Surely she would tell him? When the next week had ended, he didn’t even consider asking to stop using diapers. She surely noticed, but also didn’t bring it up. They had settled into a very workable—and very enjoyable—relationship. The price for their flirty teamwork—wearing diapers—was high, but it worked! Julie continued to be amazed at how smoothly things were going. He hadn’t even brought up the subject of the diapers at the end of the next week. He seemed to be growing more comfortable in his submissive and infantile role. He accepted her rules and supervision, kept himself closely shaved, and didn’t even complain when she popped her finger in his anus, which she was careful to do every single time she could. That would come in handy sometime soon. Sure, her teasing sessions were undoubtedly helping the process along, but what was new? She had learned that men could be influenced via their genitalia. It was too easy not to do it. Men were just built to be manipulated. It wasn’t their fault. Her job was to use her powers for good. She had always tried to help them do what was needed, and she had a responsibility not to take advantage of their simplicity and hurt them. This particular man was a good man. He was so vulnerable and naïve that she had to take care. So far, she thought she was doing well. Sure, she was taking advantage of male weakness and his need for intimacy. She was inducing dependence and submission, but it was for a good cause. Of course she wasn’t going to let him come. It reinforced her dominance, loving though it was. It let him know that his pleasure was not the main goal. It kept him on the edge, stoking his sexual appetite. It introduced the idea that sometimes he might not get to come, and that she was in control of that. But mostly, it let him know that she wasn’t “easy” or there for his satisfaction. If he wanted more, he’d have to ask (or beg, she thought hungrily). He had been uncertain about their “arrangement” at the beginning, but he wasn’t complaining now. She’d been delighted the very first day she teased him and left him hanging. He had sighed, and she thought he might whine. But instead, he seemed to accept her gift to him for what it was. She knew then that she could develop his submissive nature, even if he wasn’t aware of it yet. He could be perfect for her. Time to raise the stakes. Chapter 10 Two and a half weeks after having Julie first ask him to pull down his pants, his eyes were closed and he was enjoying her end-of-day ministrations. He was really starting to like this, and, maybe, like her, as something more than a coworker. Suddenly, she stopped stroking him and held his penis tightly. His eyes opened, as he sensed she wanted his attention. “I had a patient today who recently had a colonoscopy, and she said the GI doctor mentioned how important it is to take fiber every day. She said everyone should take extra fiber. It can cut down on heart disease and diverticulitis, and maybe even prevent colon cancer. Is that true?” Hoping that a quick easy answer would encourage her to get back to their usual late-afternoon activity, he nodded. “Uh, sure. Important for everyone.” She seemed concerned. “Hmm, I don’t take any extra fiber. Do you?” She started slowly stroking him, and he closed his eyes again. “Hmm, no.” …And then she stopped. His eyes popped open. He found that she was looking at him, as if considering something. “Sounds like both of us could use some fiber. It comes in supplements, right? I’m up for it if you are.” She smiled at him and started stroking again, just lightly, with her fingertips. He knew she was teasing him, maybe even manipulating him in some unimportant way, but he decidedly did not care at this moment. His eyelids closed again. “Sure, sure. Good idea.” Though he couldn’t see it, her smile broadened. “Great, great. I’ll feel much better if we’re taking care of ourselves. I’ll bring in some supplements tomorrow.” She gave him a few more slow, gentle strokes, then off-handedly asked, “Somehow I’m guessing that you tend more toward being constipated?” She saw his eyebrows furrow a little, but he kept his eyes closed. “Um, well…”, he started, but didn’t elaborate. She realized she’d need to help him focus. When her hand stopped again, he realized she’d asked him a question. But he wasn’t really paying attention to her words, so he wasn’t sure how to answer. “Oh, um…What was the question again?” He was very aware that her hand was still on him, now with a tight grasp, but not moving. “Well, you’ve been in a diaper for more than two weeks, and you’ve never asked me about what would happen if you need to poop. So I’m guessing you don’t poop very often?” Whoa. If there was anything he didn’t want to talk about with Julie, it was his bowel habits! He had started to fantasize about her all the time, and she was touching him right now. How could he steer her away from the topic? If he had learned anything about Julie, it was that she wasn’t easily deterred. He’d have to say something if he wanted to move on. “Well, it varies, but I don’t think it’s, like, abnormal.” He was relieved when he felt her hand start to move again. But his heart sank a little when he realized she wasn’t moving on. “Well, that’s good…So when was the last time you pooped?” He sighed in exasperation. “Do we really have to talk about that? It’s kind of personal.” She snorted, though her hand still moved. “I’ve been changing your diaper for two weeks, and I’m touching you in an extremely intimate way right now. Are there really things that are off limits?” She smiled expectantly, raising her eyebrows. His face reddened a little. He didn’t want this to stop, awkward as it was. So he nodded slightly, saying, “Good point. I just don’t really like talking about…that.” She smiled fondly at him, exquisitely enjoying his embarrassment. “Why are you embarrassed about how often you poop?” He shook his head. Nothing he could do would shake this woman. “I just don’t like talking about that stuff.” “Stuff like your pooping habits?” He groaned. “Yes. Like that.” She giggled and gripped him a little tighter, but slowed her stroke down. Part of her goal here was to embarrass him, which, it pleased her to discover, turned her on, but part was to get him to associate being embarrassed with being excited, and to associate her with that embarrassment, and with control. And it was even better to be talking about bathroom habits, over which she was soon to be in complete control. The more confusion he felt about whether he was embarrassed or excited, the easier it would be to manipulate him, both toward her intermediate and her ultimate goals. “Well, I’m not sure why you are embarrassed. You are a health professional, and you talk to patients all the time about their own pooping and peeing.” She looked innocently at him. “It looks like you don’t like it when the tables are turned?” She kept stroking him steadily but very slowly, shaking her head. “Well, too bad. You know it is important. Someone needs to keep you honest.” She suddenly stopped stroking him. “So? When was the last time you pooped?” He sighed, realizing that she wouldn’t stop until he gave her an answer. Blushing, he said, “I guess it was probably on Monday.” She frowned, but started lightly touching—almost tickling—his testicles. “That’s been three days. Is that about average for you?” He nodded slightly. “Yeah, probably.” “But I’ve heard you tell patients that they should take enough fiber so that they poop every day. Are you ignoring your own advice?” He squirmed a little on the table. In response, her grip tightened, seemingly intending to pin him down on this point. “I guess, maybe,” he admitted. “A little.” Her grip relaxed slightly, and he felt her hand move up and down his shaft again. That was nice. He must have said something she liked. He resolved to do more of that if he could. “Well, I can help with that, if you’d like. Would you like that?” she purred softly. All he could think about was her soft, soft hand. “Sure, whatev—I mean, Yes, ma’am. You bet.” She nodded. “I’ve got to keep my doctor happy and healthy, don’t I?” His eyes closing, he murmured, “Happy. So happy….” She smiled down at him. She sure loved compliant men. “So tomorrow we’ll start some fiber supplements, won’t we? And we’ll just keep track of your poops so we know how we’re doing, okay?” He nodded, then, realizing she liked to be answered out loud, said, “Yes, ma’am.” Unknown to him, her smile broadened, and she shook her head. She knew she could get his bowel habits under her thumb, but hadn’t really thought it would be quite that easy. Men really were simple creatures. Her job done today, she efficiently brought him just to the edge of an orgasm, and then cleaned him up. His eyes slowly came open, then focused. He seemed a little disappointed, but—like before—didn’t complain. She left him naked on the table for a moment. “Did you want…me to put another diaper on you to go home?” His brow furrowed as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Well, no, of course not.” He sat up and swung his legs around. ”Why would I?” As she washed her hands, she shrugged. “No reason. It’s just that, by now, you know they have their practical purpose. I realized I’d never asked if you wanted to wear one home for convenience.” He considered for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. No need for that, of course. That…would be weird.” She smiled at him. “Either way. I’m going out to pick up some fiber supplements. Are there any you specifically recommend or prefer?” He was buckling his pants. “Not really. I think pills are generally easier. Never tried any.” As she grabbed her purse, she said, “Well, then, I guess we’ll experiment a little.” Chapter 11 The next morning when he walked into the work room, he noticed a new whiteboard on the cabinet, completely blank except for lines and dates hand-drawn to make a calendar. On the counter were a little box of magnets, and an industrial size bottle that he realized was full of fiber laxative caps. Next to his water bottle, already filled for him, was a little cup with 2 capsules in it. Oh, boy, she was serious. As he set his bag down, he noticed her watching him. He nodded at the medicine cup. “I’m assuming those are for me?” She smiled. “You bet! The bottle says to take 2-4 daily, or however many are needed. I figured we’d start with two daily, and just increase the amount until you are pooping daily. And…”, and here she jumped up excitedly and walked over to the calendar. “…this is the poop chart I made for you! Do you like it?” He reddened. “Chart?” She nodded. “Poop chart, that’s right. When you make a poop the night before, or before you come in in the morning, you can put a smiley face magnet on the day. Or more than one if you’ve been really busy. If you haven’t made a poop since we saw each other, you should put a frowny face.” She held out the box of stickers to him. “Go ahead, try it out!” He stood there staring at the magnets, and then looked up at her, pained. “Seriously?” She looked a little hurt, then resolute. “Yes, seriously. I bought the magnets, and made the chart, so that you wouldn’t have to talk about your pooping every day. I was being sensitive to your weird shyness about your bathroom habits. I thought this would be easier. Would you rather I asked you each morning?” she inquired, her eyebrows raised. “No, no,” he said hurriedly. “I guess the magnets are better than having to talk about…that. Thanks for being so considerate.” She stood there with the box, patiently. Eventually he got the clue. “Oh! Right,” he mumbled. “Well, um…” He found a red sad face magnet and picked it out. He put it over yesterday’s date. “How’s that?” She put the box down. “Well, it’s a fine job with the magnet, if that’s what you’re asking. Your kindergarten teacher would be proud,” she said, patting him on the head comically. “But not so great for your pooping. We’ll see how you do on 2 of these daily, and increase it until we see a lot more happy faces on that chart! Make sure you keep track of your poops! Be sure you mark them on the calendar, because otherwise you might get too much fiber!” She patted him on the bottom, and turned toward their diaper cabinet. “Speaking of which, let’s get you ready for the day!” Something about that comment made him a little uncomfortable, but she ushered him onto the exam table and had him diapered before he could think about what it was. The day was fairly typical for them, busy and efficient. His wet diapers were changed, and not another word was uttered about fiber or pooping for the rest of the day. Within a few days, and after she increased his fiber once, he was able to add a happy-faced magnet to the chart, and was rewarded with a big smile from Julie. He grimaced, eager to avoid the subject. “I know, I know. You don’t want to talk about it. But if you get a few more of those in a row, we won’t need to increase the dose.” She patted him on his diapered bottom as he headed off to see patients. As they were getting ready to go home that day, after his final diaper change, he finally was able to verbalize what had been bugging him. “Julie, can I ask you a question?” he said as they were gathering up their things after the other staff had gone home. “What if…if the fiber works TOO well? You know, here at work?” She blinked at him. “What do you mean?” He blushed. “Well, you know, I’m all for regular bowel movements in theory, but what if we’re here, and I’m, you know, wearing a diaper…” He looked at her meaningfully, but was met with silence. “And…” she prompted, appearing not to understand. Damn it, he thought. She was going to make him say it out loud. “And I need to…” He realized she would not want him to use a medical term. “…poop, here at work. I just want to make sure we’re both…clear…on the fact that there is NO way I’m going to do…that…in my diaper. I’ll just go to the bathroom in that case. I just don’t want you to be surprised or upset when I do. Maybe we could make it so I could tell you once I’m back that that’s why I went, or something.” His cheeks burned. This was ridiculous to talk about. Julie shook her head. “Sorry, no. Out of the question.” He stared at her. “Um…what is?” She stared. “You, using the potty. That’s not going to happen.” He stared back, unsure he had heard her correctly. Maybe she had misunderstood. “No, I mean, in case I should need to…you know…poop.” She appeared to relent, approaching him and laying her hand on his arm. “Sweetie, I heard what you said. I just meant that you aren’t going to be allowed to use the potty at all, even if you have to poop.” As she saw his face darken, she stroked his forearm to comfort him. “It took you five minutes to pee before diapers. Imagine how long it takes you to poop in there. I have waited on you, so I know. If it makes sense for you to use a diaper for peeing, it makes far more sense to wear it for pooping.” He was clearly not convinced, so she continued, “And then there would be the business of you trying to undo your diaper, then trying to refasten it correctly in the potty. That could be dangerous for leaks later.” Her lips pressed together, she shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. I know you want to use the potty like a big boy when you poop, but I just cannot let that happen. It would be a disaster.” She picked up her purse, as if the conversation were over. But he couldn’t leave it there. He couldn’t let this stand as an agreement. She didn’t seem to understand what using a diaper that way would entail. “But…but…no, wait. But you don’t really want that, right? I mean, changing a wet diaper is one thing, but this would be…different. Gross, and horrible. I—I mean, right? Why would you want to do that?” He thought of something. “Maybe I could do it?” he asked hopefully. That would at least not be so humiliating. “Don’t be silly,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ve told you: I have nursing training, and mommy training. I know what it is like to change a poopy diaper, and I’m prepared to do it if it needs to be done.” Why was she so casual about all this? It made no sense. “But—but—the smell. People would know. I can’t—“ He was close to tears. Seeing this, she stopped. She saw that he couldn’t meet her gaze. She reached up and gently raised his chin so that their eyes met. She squeezed his hands firmly. “If it happens, we’ll manage. I’ll take care of it without anyone knowing, just like we do with your wet diapers. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.” She watched his face, seeing the uncertainty. She spoke again, and reached a hand up to one cheek. “Here’s how it would work. You are a big enough boy to tell when it will happen. If you feel like you need to poop, you just come and get me. You don’t have to wait until after it happens. You can interrupt me, and come back to this room. You can poop in here, and then we can change you immediately.” She released his chin, and he looked down. He swallowed. “Maybe we could also stop the fiber. It seems like—“ She cut him off. “Oh, no. We’re not compromising your health just because of your embarrassment.” She snorted softly and smiled. “That would be a bad precedent to set. And anyway, we’ve been doing that for a few days, and nothing bad has happened. I’m not giving you fiber to make you poop at work. I’m not bothered by messy diapers, but I don’t need more of them. You can keep doing that at home.” He was clearly not happy, but nodded and was quiet. She knew he’d be okay with it, just as he had agreed to wetting his diapers. He just needed time. But she needed to be careful with how she handled the next week or two, as he would be fragile emotionally. He was surprised when she drew him into a tight hug. She held him for a full minute. Initially shocked, he realized it felt really good. He felt her reassurance, realized that he needed it, and hugged her back. In fact, it was hard for him not to cry. She was so nice, wasn’t she? She also smelled good. Nice and familiar. She felt him return her hug, and heard him sigh. Holy cow, that was sweet. That kind of emotional connection was definitely one of the major highs she got from mothering. And so soon! She finally released him. “Look, if you poop at work, we’ll get through it. No big deal. Then we’ll go back to kicking some medical ass.” She smiled, and turned to leave. He picked up his bag, and headed out. He couldn’t remember feeling so close to someone. Could he trust her that much? It was scary. But she felt like someone who really could take care of him. Chapter 12 Two weeks later, his calendar was nearly solid happy faces. He was taking 3 fiber caps daily, and he found it fairly easy to have at least a small bowel movement daily. He had not had any work-place disasters, which is how he still felt about the prospect of moving his bowels at work, despite Julie’s reassurances. But it hadn’t even come up. He was feeling less worried now, and didn’t mind the fiber if it made Julie happy. Julie had also noticed his comfort level. They hadn’t changed his dose for a week, so she felt it was safe to make her move. If he had to poop at work, he wouldn’t specifically blame the fiber. It was a Wednesday, which meant a lighter patient load. They’d have some extra time, and they would need it. After lunch, he climbed onto the changing table for her to change his wet diaper. They chatted about the upcoming afternoon, and she marveled how natural a diaper change was for him now. She treasured this intimacy, learned as a mother and miraculously replicated in her workplace. She was about to deepen that relationship. He lifted his legs for her to clean him, and she cleaned him as usual. However, this afternoon, when she poked her finger inside of his bottom, she also deftly popped in a small suppository. She smiled as he kept talking straight through the procedure, completely unaware of her secret gift. She quickly diapered him again, allowing him to sit up and pull up his pants. She watched him closely, but he clearly had not noticed. From the very beginning, she had prepared him for this day, desensitizing him to anal penetration, and she was elated at how easy it was to deceive him. As she watched him settle to finish a few computer tasks before seeing their first patient, she was tempted to feel a little sorry for him for what lay ahead for him this afternoon. She regretted not being able to be honest, but sometimes men—especially her man—needed a little push. This was necessary to take their relationship to the next level. He was seeing his second patient of the afternoon when he became aware of some pressure in his bowels. He suppressed any concern he felt about this development, thinking it was likely to be gas, or perhaps something that he could wait through. But within ten minutes he was forced to admit that this feeling might be more insistent than he had expected. This was very unusual. His bathroom habits were typically subject to whenever he had time for them, and never urgent. But he felt…full, and was starting to get some cramping. He finished up with his patient, and debated whether he should see his next patient, whom Julie had already brought back and put in a room for him. He didn’t like the distraction that his discomfort was causing, but this was outweighed by the horrible embarrassment that he would suffer if he admitted to Julie that he had to move his bowels. He had no doubts about her desire to make him go in his diaper. Despite her assurances that she didn’t mind changing him, he had to doubt this. No one could enjoy changing a messy diaper. He had admitted to himself that he had a big crush on her. He couldn’t bear to have her see him with a dirty diaper. How did he ever stand a chance of dating her if he let her change a messy diaper? He decided that he would trust his ability to control himself rather than give in to the mounting need to poop. This next visit seemed interminable, however, both because of the increasing intensity of the pressure and also because of the nature of the discussion, which ironically concerned a young woman’s problem with frequent diarrhea. While he had quickly determined her problem to be irritable bowel syndrome, her description of her bathroom habits was not helping to distract him from his own needs. He found himself wondering if Julie would forgive him if he dashed to the bathroom just this once. She might not ever know, after all, if he was quick and managed to tape the diaper back the way it was. He had admittedly never tried, but how hard could it be? He started sweating, trying not to have an accident as he stood up to examine his patient. It took all of his concentration, and he found it difficult to string coherent sentences together as they discussed the plan for this young woman. As he rose to escort her to the exam room door, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer. He was going to need to poop in the next few seconds. He decided that he didn’t want to face Julie in this condition—it wasn’t manly or attractive or professional. She would have to wait to change a messy diaper. Feeling desperate and ready to run to the bathroom, he opened the door to the hallway. The patient left the room, and he followed. Almost free! Turning left out of the exam room, toward the bathroom, he literally ran right into Julie, who was standing just outside the door. It almost looked like she had been waiting for him, though she could have just been passing by. But she now stood between him and the bathroom, and he let out a little moan at the sight of her. He quickly stepped to the side, hoping she would pass. He might still get to the bathroom if she kept going and he pretended he needed something in the other direction. But she didn’t pass. She took a step to the side also, blocking his path again. She raised her eyebrows, locked his eyes with hers, and imperceptibly shook her head. She pointed behind him to their work room. When he stood still, panicked, wondering if she could possibly know how much distress he was in, she gently took his elbow and turned him toward her desired destination. No! He couldn’t let her do this. He was about to have a major BM, and it might even be diarrhea. He couldn’t let her witness that. He tried to turn back, but she gave him a firm maternal glance that somehow told him she knew exactly what he was trying to do and that he shouldn’t even think about it. Instead, she nudged him toward the room. He needed to plead with her, but couldn’t do it in the hallway. He quickly strode toward their work room, hoping he could hold for another minute. He reached the room and turned around. Julie was following, but appeared to be taking her time. Suddenly a cramp hit him, and he doubled over. He was able to control himself, but realized it would probably be obvious to Julie what was happening. She reached the room and closed the door behind her as he started to straighten up. He saw her pause to lock the door as well, and again felt the panic rise in him. “Julie, please. PLEASE let me go to the bathroom. Just this once,” he panted, holding his stomach. “Don’t be silly. If you need to poop, then do it. We have a few minutes before the next patient, but not long. It would be best to get this over with now.” He gasped. “But—you don’t understand—this is bad. It—it is bad!” She shook her head in consternation. “Then why are you holding it in? There is no need to be so miserable or dramatic.” He was almost to the point of despair. He had iron intestines, but even he had his limits. “No…” She almost smiled. What he didn’t know, and couldn’t know, since he was unaware of the suppository, was that every moment he delayed meant that the effect of the glycerin would be greater and more volcanic. The only thing that would have defeated her plan was if he had immediately expelled the suppository before it could irritate the intestinal membranes. However, because his most fervent wish was not to let anything out of his anus, he was making it much, much worse. His embarrassment was the key to making this plan so effective. But she didn’t smile. She delivered the next line, long practiced and considered, with what appeared to be the utmost concern for his comfort. “I wonder if a lot of that cramping you’re having is from gas. Maybe you could just try to let some of the gas out and feel more comfortable.” She could have cried at the naïve glimmer of hope she saw spark in his eyes at that moment. God bless him, he believed her. Only a man without much experience with diarrhea could have thought this feat possible. Without saying a word, he moved a little away from her and looked away. What happened next would be burned into both of their memories forever. She saw a passing look of concentration, then the emergence of horror on his face. He choked off a short cry, squatted, and let loose a large amount of soft stool into his diaper. It went on and on, and she just stood quietly near the door, watching. He was, of course, consumed with the process, and had given himself over to the full completion of the task. The room quieted, but slowly became filled with the smell of his act. After a moment, his breathing seemed to become regular again, and she gently crossed the room to him. She touched his shoulder, and asked, “Do you think you’re done? Or is there some more poop in there?” He couldn’t answer, or even look at her. She moved so that she was in his line of sight. “Are you done?” Once his eyes refocused on her, he nodded numbly. She smiled. “Then let’s get you into a nice clean diaper. Come over to your changing table.” She grasped his hand and led him toward the table. He waddled gingerly, slowly, and she could see him trying not to let the contents of the diaper touch his skin. Of course, this was futile, but she understood the need to try. His expression soured as he felt the effects of the suppository coat the skin under his diaper. When he had reached the table, she said, “Ok. Pants down, hop up!” Then she caught herself, and said, “Well, maybe not hop.” He positioned himself to ease himself up onto the table, then stopped. “Would you please let me do this myself? It’s…disgusting.” “Nonsense. Pooping is just a natural part of living. Now get up there so we can get you cleaned up. This is advanced diaper-changing and you would be…outmatched. I can do this far faster than you.” And she really didn’t mind. Babysitting jobs throughout high school–not to mention family members in diapers–had kept her changing diapers much of the time. During and after nursing school, she became comfortable with the medical side of caring for grown men, and she had realized that young or old, men often needed her hands to be gentle at some times and firm at others. Her motherhood of young boys had only seemed to reinforce that. She wasn’t put off by the cleanup, and actually found that changing a diaper was one of the more intimate experiences she could have with a male. It was one her first experiences in being in charge. How could she not enjoy that? He sighed, and discovered that he could not really get up on the table without sitting right in the middle of his mess. As he uneasily settled himself onto the table, his expression mirrored the disgust he felt, and she noticed. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “We’ve done this a hundred times. It’s no different to me. Just lie back.” He couldn’t really respond. His mind was consumed with the horrible sensation of warm squish. He wanted to escape, but he felt caught, like a fly in a web. Not having any better options, he sighed, and gently reclined, feeling movement under him as he shifted weight. Once he was down, Julie let out her breath and put on some vinyl gloves. The hard part was over. Now she had to make it—as promised—easier than changing himself. She smiled as he reflexively let his knees fall apart, showing her the discolored diaper he wore. She untaped him, and pulled open the front of his diaper, immediately instructing him, “Up.” As he pulled his knees up, she took the diaper and efficiently wiped the bulk of his mess off of him, rolling it as she went. A few wipes later, and he was clean. She removed the dirty diaper and placed a clean one under him, powdering and taping him quickly. Within 2 minutes he was sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the table as if nothing had happened. Julie disposed of the diaper as he dressed himself. She caught him as he was trying to turn away, toward the door. She stood in his way and waited for their eyes to meet. Still ashamed and wanting the experience as far in the past as he could make it, he couldn’t escape her gaze. When he caught sight of her raised eyebrows, he intuited her meaning quickly and now felt bad that he hadn’t said what needed to be said. “Thank you,” he said softly, staring at the floor. He felt her lift his chin again, which made him feel like a little kid. But for some reason he allowed this, and once she held his gaze, heard her say, “That wasn’t so bad, and I don’t think it is gross. If it happens again, please man up and let me change you, okay?” He was silent, his emotions muddled and his mind spinning. How could she not hate what just happened? He wanted her to think of him as a man, not a baby. But she was equating being a man with letting her change his dirty diaper. He was finding it hard to come to terms with what their relationship was. Shouldn’t it be employer/employee? It seemed more like mother/child. She couldn’t really be attracted to him at this point. Not after that. Of course, he felt grateful to her for making him feel better when he had felt terrible, and for not humiliating him about it. It could have been much worse, but she had been so kind. But he was deeply infatuated with her, and wanted to spend time with her. He lusted for her and loved her hands on him. He respected her intelligence and clinical skills. He wanted to be manly around her, to take her and kiss her, but she seemed to want him to be more passive and childlike. And—if he was honest—that did feel like the more natural role for him in this relationship. She was so strong and certain. It felt right to let her be in charge. She saw the thoughts whirling through his brain, and sensed a lot of internal conflict. What could she do to help? What did he need more than anything right now? Probably acceptance. Impulsively, she drew close and put her arms around him, holding him warmly and tightly, as she had first done two weeks ago. She felt his body stiffen for a moment, then relax a bit, then she felt his arms around her, too. She smiled. Chapter 13 He was tense the next few days, unsure how Julie would act toward him, worried that he would have more diaper disasters or that he couldn’t trust his bowels. But everything with her seemed back to normal to him. Julie was nice, and, though he was sensitive to any change in how she talked to him or looked at him, their relationship didn’t seem to have changed. He relaxed a little, breathing easier when each afternoon progressed without those horrible cramps. He was reassured that his system seemed back to normal. It didn’t seem to be the fiber, he realized. He was moving his bowels daily, but mostly at home in the morning, where he could go in private, just as he wanted it. His accident must have been a fluke. These days at work were really great. He’d gotten over the weirdness of wearing a diaper, which was still bizarre, of course. He was wetting his diaper much more instinctively now. Sometimes he wasn’t even aware of it, and was surprised when Julie would surreptitiously cup his crotch and then raise her eyebrows at the heavy dampness. He was enough used to a wet diaper that he didn’t mind it much. That was bizarre too, when he thought about it. But he was kind of enjoying not focusing on when he wet. It seemed like he really ought to take advantage of the perk to wearing diapers, right? And no one but Julie knew about it. It was their secret, as far as he could tell. They worked like a team, and the work burden seemed so much lighter. He got home earlier, and was less tired when he did so. While her methods were unusual, and he could never tell anyone about their agreement, he couldn’t argue with her results. He did have a surprise outside of work that week, however. Before he left each day, when he was on the changing table for the last time, Julie would ask him, “Do you want me to put a clean diaper on you to go home in? Or do you just want to wear your underpants home?” It seemed like a weird question each and every time she asked it. While he had conceded to the infantile garb at work, there was no logic to why he would want to wear a diaper outside of work. He had asked her one evening why she would give him a choice he so obviously wouldn’t take. She shrugged and smiled, as if she were just being accommodating, as if some people might actually answer yes. He shook his head, amused. It was one thing to use a diaper for a specific, noble purpose like he was doing, he thought. It would be another simply to choose to wear one on his off time. But as he stood in line at the grocery store a few nights later, he became aware of a curious warmth in his pants. He thought he was leaning against something warm, but then he felt trickling down his leg. He looked down, startled, and realized he had wet his pants, something he hadn’t done in 30 years. He moved closer to the counter, shielding himself from view, then later held the grocery bags in front of him to preserve his dignity. He made it to the car without anyone seeing, he thought. But it drove home an important point: maybe there actually was a downside to mindlessly wetting his diaper. He had to discipline himself to control his bladder carefully, even at work, when he didn’t technically have to, or this could become a slippery slope that led to his needing to answer Julie’s nightly question differently. During the following week, things were going so well at work that he again started pondering the idea of asking Julie out. He still wasn’t sure about the wisdom of such a move, but he was becoming more infatuated by the day. There was something about the gentle efficiency of their interaction, the confidence of her work with patients and, honestly, with his needs, that made him feel like he wanted to see more of her outside of work. At work, she always had his back. He longed for that feeling outside of work as well. That afternoon, she again spent a few moments longer than needed touching him after the patients had gone. He had gotten used to the idea that it was just a nice reward for a good day’s work, and that she would never take it so far as he’d like. But maybe if they weren’t at work… As they were leaving the office, he couldn’t help himself. “Would you ever have time to grab some dinner?” She stopped suddenly, surprise on her face. He reddened when she didn’t respond right away. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I—I just meant…” He didn’t really know how to excuse his proposition. He felt her hand on his arm. “No, it’s okay,” she said warmly, smiling brilliantly at him. “I just can’t believe it took you so long. I would LOVE to have dinner with you.” He exhaled. She’d said yes! “…But I’m afraid that it might be hard to go out to a restaurant. My kids need to eat too, and I’d feel bad about asking Mom to sit for them into the evening. Maybe you could come over sometime and we could eat at my house? You could meet the little guys. I know it’s not romantic, but it is about the best I can do right now.” He nodded vigorously. He’d heard a lot about the boys, and was so thrilled to get to see her that he would have done about anything. She would check her calendar about a workable date. He drove home elated. She’d expected him to ask her out! He hadn’t misread their relationship. And somehow, for some reason, changing his diaper every single day hadn’t diminished her romantic interest in him. That seemed too amazing to believe. The next afternoon, he felt a gentle rumbling in his gut that normally meant he needed to visit the bathroom. It wasn’t urgent, like the other day, however. He plowed onward, seeing patients, feeling a fullness, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It was a very busy day, with his schedule packed. He had added some appointments into the evening to accommodate the demand. This was a bottleneck point in the day, as sometimes happened. He had a complicated patient who needed labs, some referrals, and an EKG. Julie had gotten stuck helping the patient in the room, and hadn’t been able to bring any other patients back for him. He looked for another patient to see, and, seeing none, found himself wandering back toward the other end of the building. He hadn’t specifically meant to, but realized he was outside the staff restroom. He hadn’t been here in nearly a month. As he stared at it thoughtfully, his intestines complained again. He glanced back down the hallway toward his empty workstation. Would Julie mind? Would she even know? Probably not—she was swamped. Certainly if he took care of his bodily functions on his own, especially this afternoon when they were so busy, it would help them both out. Why not? The clincher was that, looking forward to their “date”, the last thing he wanted was for Julie to have a fresh memory of changing another dirty diaper. He quickly ducked inside the bathroom and locked the door. He lowered his khakis, then fumbled with the tapes on the diaper. He carefully pulled them off, and was pleased to see that while they stretched the plastic, they hadn’t ripped it. This was going well—maybe he could do this from time to time and never have to have Julie change another dirty diaper! He rushed a bit, conscious of the need for efficiency. When he stood up again, he found that re-taping the diaper might be the hardest part. He clenched his legs together, holding the diaper roughly in place, then re-affixed the tapes in what he hoped was similar to their prior locations. He pulled up his pants, washed his hands, and rushed back down the hall. He got back in plenty of time to greet Julie as she was leaving the patient’s room, looking harried. She was focused, as always, on her work duties, and he smiled at his decision. If he was smart, he could make this work, limiting their interactions to wet diapers, and avoiding any messy ones. He was happy with himself and relieved to have avoided further humiliation, but felt hesitant about sharing that good idea with Julie. The fact that he couldn’t talk to Julie about it gnawed a little at him, but he put it out of his mind. They worked hard for the rest of the afternoon, then finished the early evening in rapid fashion. He did need a diaper change later in the afternoon, and though Julie frowned a bit as she confronted his doctored diaper, she didn’t ask any questions. As usual, their teamwork had dispatched a huge workload quickly and efficiently. However, due to the extra appointments, they were still the last two staff in the office. As they finished their tasks on the computer, Julie turned to him, and wearily said, “Okay, time to get changed for home.” She seemed a little less chipper than usual, but it had been a very long day. He obediently unbuckled and hopped up on the table as she locked the door. Despite the fact that no one else was in the office, he gratefully noticed that Julie took no chances. She had his diaper off, and his bottom wiped in a moment. She didn’t really tease him much today, but maybe she was really tired. She tossed the wet diaper and retreated to her workstation. He swung his legs off the table and leaned down to pull up his pants. She interrupted him. “Could you…leave those down for just a moment?” He stood up, a little perplexed. His shirttails covered his nakedness, but his pants and boxers were still around his ankles. Usually at this point, she was washing her hands and gathering her things to leave. Tonight, though, she was sitting at her desk, turned toward him, and wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked. She took a deep breath, then blew it out. “We need to talk.” She met his eyes. “Did you make a poop today?” He could feel his cheeks start to burn. She couldn’t possibly know. He just had to play it cool. “Not at work.” Her face fell. She looked disappointed. “Well, that’s not what two different nurses told me. They saw you go into the potty for about five minutes this afternoon. They said it seemed unusual to them, since it almost never happens these days.” She gave him a wry smile. “They don’t know anything, but they still could tell you shouldn’t have been back there.” He stood still, unaware of how ridiculous he looked with his pants down. He was trying to think how to explain his presence in the bathroom. “Well, that’s true. I did go back to the bathroom, but that was to clean my tie. It was after lunch, and I’d spilled something on it.” She frowned a little. “And there was something in the potty you specifically needed? We have sinks and mirrors in all of the exam rooms.” He paled a little, but decided to stick with this story. It was as good as he was going to get. She shook her head sadly. “I guess I could have predicted it would come to this at some point. Look, I already know you went back there to poop on the potty. I noticed that your diaper had been removed and replaced, and I figured that it happened during that nightmare of a patient we had this afternoon.” Her lips pursed. “So we have a problem.” His gaze had fallen to the floor. He’d been caught. At this point he couldn’t think of anything to say. “There are several issues I have with this…situation. One is that you went back to poop on the potty, wasting time that could have been spent on patients.” He protested, explaining that he thought he was making good use of the time. She cut him off. “No, it was wasting time. You could have asked another nurse to bring a patient back, or been working on phone calls and other tasks. You can’t replace a diaper as fast as I can. You know that.” His mouth hung open a little. He shut it self-consciously. Good points, all. “Two is that you broke your promise. We had a system worked out together, and were working as a team. You decided on your own, without discussion with me, your work partner, that you knew better, even though we had specifically talked about this exact situation.” Now he was really starting to feel guilty. They were a good team. He had learned to value that. Maybe— But she was not done. “Finally, you lied to me. You stood right there a moment ago and lied about having pooped on the potty. This is the hardest for me to take. I…felt like we were…” She broke off, apparently unable to finish. She stared at the floor for a moment. He wondered if he should say something. But then she continued. “But now I don’t know how I can trust you.” She looked up at him. It looked like there were tears in her eyes. His heart melted. He felt terrible. He looked down, searching for something to say, and noticed that his pants were still bunched up around his ankles. This was not a comfortable way to have a talk about their budding relationship. He glanced up at her and gestured to his pants. “Um…may I…?” She shook her head slightly. Her voice had regained some control. “No, not yet, if you don’t mind.” He folded his hands in front of his waist. He suddenly felt awkward in front of her. Why was she keeping him half naked in front of her? Then she cleared her throat and spoke. “What do you have to say for yourself?” He looked up at her blankly. “Um, well…” He thought for a moment. May as well be honest at this point. “You were in a room, and we were clearly backed up. I felt the need to go to the bathroom, and I thought—“ “You mean, you felt like you needed to poop. You don’t have a need to go to a bathroom any more,” she corrected helpfully. He faltered. Why did he need to talk like a child? Whatever. “Okay, yes, I needed to…”go”. And I thought there was no way that you would have time under the circumstances, and that if I took care of it, it would help us get back on track. I was trying to help.” He smiled at her hopefully. Julie didn’t look convinced. “You mean, you don’t like pooping in your diaper, and you found a good excuse to run to the potty instead.” He nodded slowly. “Well, that, too. I…well, it’s embarrassing.” “Did you think it was fair for you to decide that all by yourself?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. He paused. This was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it his business? “Look, Julie, I decide things all day. Important things. It’s part of my job.” She eyed him. “Yes, you do. But not your potty business. When it comes to your pooping and peeing, that’s my job. We decided that together. It’s part of what makes us a good team. You let me handle the things you don’t do well. Is there something about how I’ve treated you that hurt you or that you didn’t think was done well?” He was getting exasperated. “No, of course not. You…are wonderful. I love our time together. But…I don’t think that going to the bathroom in my diaper—especially that way—is masculine.” Now she looked frustrated, too. “’Going to the—oh, you think that pooping in your diaper, and letting me change you, makes you less of a man? I’ve told you that you are hung up with childhood impressions about diapers and bodily functions. It doesn’t matter to me at all. So when you say that this embarrasses you, I think that it ought to embarrass you more to have all those preconceived notions about using diapers for their intended purpose. I think you should grow up. What matters to me is being efficient, being honest, and taking good care of our patients. And you violated those things today, each and every one of them.” He stood silently, trying to absorb her words. Her weird perspective on diapers and changing him still baffled him, but he really liked her and was trying to understand. More than anything, he wanted to be able to work with her in the future, and, beyond that, to go out with her next week. All of this seemed in jeopardy right now. “Now, I will grant you that you were partially motivated to help me, and that is the only reason I am willing to look for some way past this terrible error in judgment. And I can only think of one way you could prove your commitment to me and to our team going forward. It would take great personal sacrifice, and—fittingly—would require you to let go of some childhood stereotypes.” He looked up. He had no idea what she was talking about. But if she was offering a way out of her doghouse, he was willing to take it. He was willing to do just about anything. But he was initially confused about what she proposed next. “If you really want to prove to me that you care for me, and for what we are doing here, I need to see a token of sacrifice from you.” He shook his head, trying to read the inscrutable expression on her face. But as she reached into her purse and brought out a compact but heavy-looking hairbrush, his eyes opened wide. She sat up straight, and smoothed her scrubs, then expectantly brought her eyes up to his. He stopped breathing as he realized what she was proposing. This was why she wanted him to keep his pants down. She wanted to spank him for going to the bathroom. Here, in his office. It was ridiculous. It took things too far. Yet there she sat, brush in hand. Was this real? Would she really do it? Of course she would; she’d changed his diaper a hundred times, for God’s sake. But he couldn’t let her do this—it would change their relationship, wouldn’t it? How would they work together? How could they date each other? He wanted to show his dedication to her, to work, to their patients, but not like this. “We—we—we can’t do this here,” he protested weakly, not able to verbalize anything else. “This is crazy.” Julie shook her head grimly. “No one else is here. The building is locked, and so is this door. We’re completely alone.” He looked around, a little panicked. Oh, crap. “But…I’m a…I’m your boss. It wouldn’t be right. Isn’t this, like, inappropriate?” She dipped her head and looked up at him sardonically. “Seriously? After everything else, you’re going to worry about sexual harassment? I don’t think anyone would blame you for going over my knee, or me for spanking you. What other arguments do you have on your list?” He started to sweat. “Julie, I don’t want to do this! If I let you do this, that changes us—this—our relationship. How could we work with each other again? I—how would we ever go out? How could we date each other? What kind of relationship could we have?” She laughed. “You don’t think some partners spank each other? I’ve got some websites for you, mister.” Then she became serious. “I think I understand. You’re worried that this changes our power dynamic, that I won’t be attracted to you if you give in to being punished by me?” He nodded, hands still clutched in front of himself. “But you’ve got it backward. I realize it will take tremendous strength of will and discipline for you, a fully grown man, and a doctor besides, to bend over my lap and take a spanking. It will symbolize that you trust my judgment. That you acknowledge that what you did was wrong, and that you are willing to sacrifice your dignity, not to mention putting up with a little pain,” she said with a wry smile. “If you agree to this deal, I’ll forgive you completely, because I’ll see your strength and devotion to your practice, your patients, and our agreement. I’ll see you’re sorry for your mistake, and willing to move forward with a clean slate. It takes a real man to choose this route.” He swallowed. He saw how she could offer such a thing. He could erase what he’d done if he could put up with this…deal. He met her eyes, and nodded. She was telling him that she’d forgive him, that they could still be together, go out on a date. She would still respect him. “I want…that,” he told her. She nodded briskly, and patted her lap. “Then let’s go, young man.” He stared at her lap, and considered once again whether he really wanted to take this step. He looked up at her face, which was firm, but which he’d learn to trust. She wouldn’t hurt him too bad, would she? She liked him. And how bad could a spanking hurt? He was a grown man, and she was just a woman. He shuffled forward, struggling to walk with his pants around his ankles. She pointed to the right side of her, and he moved to comply. A part of him felt like this was unreal, like it couldn’t really be happening. But there Julie was, helping him ease over her lap, telling him to hold his upper body off the floor. He felt his legs dangling helplessly in the air, then felt a cool breeze on his bottom. He assumed that was his shirttail being lifted. His suspicion was confirmed, as he felt Julie’s fingers run lightly over his bottom. He felt goosebumps form on his arms and legs. Suddenly, he felt quite vulnerable. And he remembered that it wasn’t just about embarrassment. Julie had said something about pain. He questioned his earlier assumption. Could it really hurt? He hoped it wouldn’t hurt that much. I mean, he reassured himself, it could mostly be a gesture. He was about to clarify when he heard a loud smack. A moment later he felt pain on his bottom. It wasn’t bad, and he was relieved. It hurt, but he could stand it. He heard, then felt another blow, this time to the other side. She was spanking on the lower part of his bottom, he realized and noted in some part of his brain. The spanks kept coming, and he could see how it could eventually become difficult to tolerate. So…how long would it last? The answer was, at least a few minutes, he discovered, though it was hard to tell. And then it stopped. He let out his breath. That could have been worse, he thought. It was more about the gesture. Sure, it was embarrassing, but it was tolerable. And now they could move forward and forget it. But she didn’t let him up. She shifted her weight, then shifted back. He felt something cold against his bottom, something hard and foreign, moving around, like it was soothing him. “I hope you didn’t mind that little warm-up. I have found that boys can take a longer spanking if there is a hand spanking first.” Trepidation seized him at that point. That was the warm-up? “Now let’s get down to business. I want you to count these off. Don’t lose track, or we’ll start again. We’ll stop when I think it’s time. You can be thinking about what led to this spanking, and how you’ll change in the future.” Suddenly, he heard a swat, and felt a searing pain in his backside, right where her hands had hit him before. But that was it, just one. He was sure that couldn’t be it— “I’m waiting for you to count, young man. Let’s start over.” SMACK! “One!” he spat out quickly. But as soon as he’d said it, another came down, now on the other side. SMACK! This took his breath away. He yelled, “Two!” quickly, before he’d even recovered, but then realized that as soon as he’d said it, she struck again. He felt trapped: he dare not wait too long and get her angry, but he didn’t want to count too quickly. It became a game of seeing just how slowly he could count. Before he’d counted to twenty, he was having trouble concentrating on the numbers. He couldn’t control her strokes, even though he desperately wanted this to stop. He feared having to start over again, so he yelled out numbers. In between spanks, he would hear her voice sometimes, asking if he would ever lie to her again. Would he ever poop on the potty at work again? Would he ever break his promises again? He blurted out answers, then tried to say the number, trying to make her happy with him. It didn’t seem to matter what he said, however, as the paddling continued. But he eventually started to hear another noise in between the numbers, which he couldn’t control. He realized that he was crying. He couldn’t really say numbers anymore, but it didn’t seem to matter. Julie was strong, and kept going, long past his tolerance for pain. He ended up wailing and crying loudly, for what seemed like a long time. Eventually, mercifully, the spanking stopped. He heard the brush set down on the counter somewhere behind him. He tried to stop crying, but couldn’t, not right away. She helped him up, and took him in her arms. It was just what he needed. He cried softly for a few moments, murmuring, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She cooed back at him, saying, “I know, I know. You’re a good boy,” quietly into his ear. She stroked his back until he had gotten his breathing under control. He sniffled a little bit, and eventually felt like the hug had gone on long enough. He pulled away a little, and she leaned back from him, reaching a tissue for him. He gratefully took it and wiped his face and his nose. Julie helped him stand up, and sent him to the corner of the room with a nod and her pointer finger. He didn’t mind. He didn’t want to face her in this state. Standing in the corner helped him compose himself privately, which he needed. “Hands on your head, please,” she told him as he shuffled awkwardly to the corner. He heard her clicking on her computer, and then heard her chair scrape the floor. After a few minutes, he heard her voice. “Okay, you can be done. Turn around.” He turned around shyly, letting his arms fall. She was right there, and she was leaning down in front of him. She grasped his pants and pulled them up, helping him tuck his shirt in, and buckling his belt. She handed him his laptop bag, and reached for her purse, which he now saw was certainly large enough to carry her brush. Did she do that every day? Did she always have that brush? Then she extended her hand, and led him silently out of the office. When they got to their cars, she kissed him on the cheek and said, “You did well tonight, you know. Let’s hope that never happens again.” He looked at her, and earnestly told her, “It won’t.” She smiled warmly. “I’m glad to hear you say that. But if it does, you can expect to be over my lap again. See you tomorrow, okay? Be good.” His bottom burned like crazy, and did hurt quite a bit as he tried to get into his car. He was sure he didn’t ever want to endure something like that again. If she wanted to change his dirty diapers, that was fine with him, just as long as she didn’t bring out that brush again. Anything was better than that. And yet, he reflected on the way home, he somehow felt so much closer to her. He felt grateful to her for offering a route back to her after his bad decision. He felt forgiven and cleansed in a way. It had been a surprisingly intimate experience for something that did not involve sex. He marveled over this. But thank goodness it was over. He went to bed early that night, at least in part because it was easier to lie down than to sit up. He realized then why she had focused so intently so low on his bottom: she knew how to make the discomfort last. She’d gone after the place he sat on. And—indeed—he kept thinking of her all evening. He slept easily, feeling exhausted. The next morning, there lingered an extra closeness between the two of them. He had felt that before with a woman, but only after sex with a partner. They had shared something special, and though he never wanted to share it again, he almost understood why she had done it. All anger seemed forgotten, and all animosity had disappeared. When she changed his diaper, he felt her touch his bottom tenderly, then whistle. “Wow, what happened back here?” she said coyly, giving him a sidelong glance. She rubbed in some lotion to the sore, red, bruised skin, and this felt wonderful. Once he was rediapered, as he was pulling up his slacks, she broached the subject of spanking again. “I know it hurt, but there’s an advantage to a spanking, you know?” He stared at her. “I’m sorry?” he said, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “Oh, yes. It is a wonderful way to clear the air, I’ve found. Spanking is my preferred way to settle scores. It is so much better than letting disagreements stew, arguing for days. Can you see how nice it is to move on with no hard feelings?” He stood for a minute, silent. He enjoyed this new closeness, and certainly didn’t want to argue about this if it would complicate things. And…she was right, to some degree. He wasn’t sure it was the only way to move on, but he was glad not to have to revisit his mistake from yesterday. “Yes, I guess so. But…it doesn’t mean I liked it. I…don’t ever want to do that again.” She smiled. “No problem. Just behave yourself, okay?” She patted him on the bottom and sat down to work, satisfied that he had accepted her disciplinary authority, and that he had essentially agreed to accept it in the future. The conversation made him a little nervous, as he considered the possibility of having to face Julie’s hairbrush again. But he didn’t argue with her. It obviously was effective, and had brought them closer together and allowed them to move on. He thought he understood why she liked it. He was still sore. The next few days he was tender, even with the diaper, and every time he sat down, he thought of Julie. Again and again, he swore never to disobey her again. Chapter 14 He made sure he was extra good that week. He didn’t need to move his bowels at work again for another week, and he was hoping it wouldn’t ever happen again. But on a Friday, just after lunch, he felt a lot of pressure, and his hopes sank. He was talking to one of his partners, and he ended the conversation and looked around furtively. He really needed to go to the bathroom, but—Julie wouldn’t like it. He walked tentatively up to their workroom, and, catching her eye, approached her. “Hey, um. I…think I’m going to need…” He trailed off, still embarrassed about the whole thing. He wanted to do this right, but how could he tell her, and have her change him? It was just so awkward. She stared at him for only a moment, but then completed his sentence. “…to poop?” His surprised expression made her smile. “It wasn’t hard to figure out, you know. You haven’t had a poop for a few days,” she said, gesturing at the magnet chart they still used to modify his fiber intake. “And it’s after lunch. My little boys at home usually go after a meal.” His face reddened and he stared at the floor. “Um, well, I wanted to let you know, ‘cause…” She touched his arm. “Because you didn’t want another spanking? That’s a good boy,” she quietly said, pleased. She shrugged. “Well, have at it. We have a few minutes before patients arrive for the afternoon.” She patted his front, which no longer shocked him, and noted that he had already wet, so he was due for a change anyway. He was surprised. He once again hadn’t remembered peeing. He had meant to work on making that more voluntary, something he tried to do, rather than letting it happen. But this time, he wasn’t even aware of it! Right now, however, there were more important things to worry about. Julie went back to work at her computer, apparently leaving him to do his business right there. He hesitated, again reluctant to use his diaper in front of her. Not for this. Not if he could help it, right? He turned to leave. Maybe he could use one of the exam rooms. They were built for privacy. “Where are you going, mister? I thought you had to poop.” If he could have colored any more, he would have. “Uh—well, I just thought I’d duck into one of the exam rooms…” But Julie was already shaking her head. “Oh, no you don’t. You can’t go stinking up one of our patient rooms. We’re going to use those rooms. If you’ve got to go, you can do it right here.” Now he paled. “In front of you? I can’t.” She looked at him. “Really? You did it the other day. You’re wearing pants AND a diaper. I can’t see you do it! What’s the big deal?” He was dumbstruck. Did she really not have the same sense of shame that most people had, or did she like embarrassing him? “I don’t want to…do it…in front of someone else. It’s embarrassing.” Julie shrugged and went back to working. “Poop, or don’t poop. But I’ve got work to do, so if you’re going to poop, it will be right in this room with me here. Get over it.” A cramp struck him. He looked at the clock. “Please, Julie,” he heard himself whining, somewhat childishly. Suddenly she gave him a stern look, and he couldn’t help glancing at her purse. Did she have her brush today? “Never mind…” he murmured. The corner of her mouth twitched, and she went back to her work. He walked away from her, trying to get behind her and as far away within the room as he could. It was hard to imagine himself being alone, hard to go standing up. It was just weird. But if that was what Julie wanted, he would make her happy. He squatted a little, trying not to make any noise. He couldn’t help a little grunt, however, as he successfully accomplished his task. He felt the diaper push out, and then could feel the mess against his skin. He was consumed with how gross that felt, and didn’t notice Julie pushing back her chair and walking over to him. “Let’s get that taken care of right away, okay?” she said lightly, all business. He waddled carefully over to the exam bed and lowered his pants gently. A horrible smell came wafting up, and he noticed that she had thoughtfully already closed and locked the door. He lay back and allowed her to change him. It was a much faster process than the previous messy diaper, which had been all over the place. He watched her carefully for signs of disgust or impatience, but saw none. It was almost like she really didn’t mind! Before long he was in a clean, dry diaper—a feeling he was now growing to like. Julie was washing her hands, and he thanked her. “No problem,” she said, seemingly happily. “You’ve been a very good boy today.” At the end of the day, she changed him out of his diaper, and said, “I think that we might finally have a day we could have you over for dinner, if you’re still interested.” “Yes, please!” he exclaimed happily, in a voice he realized was probably a little too loud. Who cared? This was great. They set a date about two weeks later. She’d make supper, and maybe he’d bring some wine. It sounded good to him. He’d get to meet her young boys. Then they’d put them to bed, and…who knew? Almost whistling on his way home, he again thought back to the bizarre turn his life had taken. It was so, so weird, but Julie somehow made it feel right. He didn’t mind wearing the diaper for her at work anymore. He wasn’t sure it all made sense, but he had a hot, smart nurse making his days easier, and touching him in all the right places. He really needed to move this relationship along. He had waited a long time to be with her. It didn’t even occur to him to ask her about not wearing diapers any more. It was what she wanted. Maybe it was better for their patient care, but somewhere inside, he was starting to recognize that her happiness was becoming more and more of a priority. When she smiled, it made him feel wonderful. He was leaving a friend’s house the next night after watching a basketball game, stopping to check his phone, when it happened again. He felt hot liquid rushing down his leg, and had some difficulty stopping it. He felt his sock dampen! He hurriedly got into his car and headed home, grateful it hadn’t happened in front of someone. He was no longer sure he could fix this while working at the office. He started to doubt whether he could control himself at all. Monday, he casually mentioned to Julie at the end of the day that wearing the diaper at work had had an unintended consequence of making him less aware when he urinated. She broke into a smile. “Great! I told you there would be perks.” His face clouded a little. “Yeah, but it’s not a perk when it also happens outside the office.” Her smile faded. “Oh. You mean…have you had accidents?” She tried to look concerned. He didn’t answer, but she could read his expression. She sat down. “Oh,” she said again, more to herself. “Well, that’s a problem. How many times?” “Two,” he replied honestly. “I don’t think anyone saw, but they weren’t just little leaks. So, I’m wondering if you have any ideas about how to keep that from happening.” He pointed to the magnet chart. “I mean, you’re good at solving problems like this, I’d bet. Is there anything I can do here at the office to keep that from happening at home? Do you think Kegel exercises would work?” Obviously, Julie did not want to seem gleeful about this development, but that was truly how she felt. She’d been wondering–hoping, really–that something like this would happen, and it opened opportunities to evolve their relationship sooner than she could have expected. She had to seem concerned for him, however. “Would it? There is no harm in trying, obviously, but it doesn’t seem like it is a problem of muscle weakness. More like behavioral training? You’ve allowed yourself to relax your bladder, and now you’re not paying much attention to it.” She chanced a smile. “It does sound nice not having to worry about such things. Most people would probably envy you.” She continued, “But. You could certainly try the Kegels. Until we see whether they help when you are away from work, however, I think we should consider another option.” She looked hesitant. “I’m not sure you want to hear this, but there are straightforward ways to handle wetting problems like this.” He looked confused, so she gave him a little more info, hoping he’d figure it out. “You know, there are millions of people with leakage problems. You see some of them as patients. How do you tell them to handle it?” “Well, they ought to wear protection until they can….” He trailed off. He couldn’t meet her eyes, as he said, somewhat dully, “You want me to wear a diaper at home, too?” Time to make the case. “It doesn’t matter what I want. But I think you might need to wear a diaper when you go out. What a disaster if a patient saw an accident! What kind of advertisement would that be for you and your practice? I think from a business perspective, just until you have the accidents under control, you don’t really have a choice.” He looked doubtful but concerned as he sat at his computer. He could use some reassurance. She got up and came over to him, sitting next to him and touching his arm. “Look, your diaper is invisible to everyone else. You know that. You and I are the only ones who know about it. It is a personal solution that no one has to know about. It might be embarrassing to you, but you are certainly accustomed to it at this point, and it works. It only makes sense, for a little while, at least.” He nodded. “I know that, logically. It’s just so humiliating. It seems ridiculous for a grown man.” Julie smiled to herself, but was careful not to let that show. It certainly was absurd! He was an adult who had let himself be convinced by her to wet and mess in a diaper, at his workplace! He had let her spank him, not for some sexy game, but for discipline. He had shaved himself and let her clean him, count his bowel movements, and restrict him from using a toilet. He had let himself be led down this path every step of the way. She decided that she could help him here, too. “Nonsense,” she said, stroking his arm. “Being an adult is taking care of your problems. And it only impresses me more that you’d be willing to take such a responsible step.” She paused, thinking. “Why don’t we just send you home in a diaper each evening, and you can change out of it when you are done being out and about? You certainly don’t need to wear it at home, do you? Have you had an accident at home?” He shook his head. Thank goodness. “Fine, then. And if you did, you’d be in private anyway. That’s where you can practice keeping your pants dry. And things will be better before you know it!” She got a perfunctory smile out of him, which was probably about what she could expect here, so she considered it a done deal. Part of him had to know that increasing the amount of time he spent in diapers wouldn’t help his “problem”, right? But he didn’t say anything. She was sure he really didn’t like the diapers, so she wasn’t sure why he was so agreeable to this “solution”. Maybe he was just too naïve and optimistic for his own good. And maybe he trusted her. That was good for him in the long run, but not if he had any interest in fixing this “problem.” She stood up, finished with her work, and said, “When you’re done we can get you changed.” He finished a note and hopped up on the exam table, still deep in thought about his bladder issue. She changed him, this time putting a fresh diaper on him instead of sending him out in his grown-up attire. He noticed and looked a bit glum. Maybe she could perk him up a bit. “We’re still on for Friday dinner, right?” This broke him out of his funk. “Yes! Of course. Um, did you decide for sure what I can bring?” he asked, knowing that he was not really in much of a position to help. He wasn’t much of a cook. Perhaps sensing this, she said, “How about a nice loaf of bread in addition to the wine? We’ll have spaghetti. It’s the boys’ favorite.” That cheered him up, and she was happy to see him leave on a happy note. As they walked together to their cars, she noted the little diaper waddle he had and thought happily that it was the first time she had seen that outside the office. That was progress! Chapter 15 Friday night, he showed up at Julie’s house wearing slacks and a button-down shirt, more casual than work, but still looking nice, he hoped. He was also wearing the diaper she had changed him into before they left that afternoon. She had made it clear that it might be best if he kept it on for his visit to her house. “Oh, you might as well. I would certainly understand if you had an accident at my house, but it’s just simpler if you wear it home and then to my house. I can change you there if you’re wet. I’ll even bring a few diapers home with me.” He looked uncertain even then, until she had said, suppressing a laugh, “And I’m sure you were hoping to get naked with me on the first date anyway.” She knew how to make him feel better about the situation. He had grinned and agreed, and now he stood on her doorstep with a slightly wet diaper under his clothes. He was nervous as they took their relationship to another level, and felt awkward that he was doing it in a wet diaper. He didn’t feel very romantic. But when Julie answered the door, dressed up in a pretty dress, her face beaming at seeing him there, he forgot all about the diaper. She was pretty in scrubs, but she looked much better in real clothes! As the door opened, delicious smells of spaghetti sauce wafted toward him, and his stomach stirred. He handed her the bread, some artisan loaf he’d found at a bakery—an actual bakery!—and she ushered him inside. Her little boys were waiting just inside the door, obviously carefully placed there for introductions. Thomas, a 3-yr-old, gave him a high-five when offered, but Andrew, 18 months old, hid behind his mother. They ran off to watch TV while Julie invited him into the kitchen of what turned out to be a modest but nicely kept apartment. They talked about the day while the noodles cooked. At one point, Julie’s hand dropped to his pants, patting and slightly squeezing his diaper. She had done this before at work, almost mechanically, so he didn’t find it strange. “Do you need a change before we eat?” she asked as the food neared completion. “I think I can wait,” he replied, and helped carry dinner to the table. During dinner, where Andrew sat in his high chair but Thomas had a booster seat, they talked about the boys, who warmed up quickly to him once they were sharing food. After dinner, the boys went to play in the family room with some action figures, as he helped Julie clear and wash the dishes. When that was done, she said, “I bet you’re soaked now. Let’s get you changed quickly before the boys need to be changed.” Suddenly, Thomas ran into the kitchen. “Mommy, Andrew pooped!” Julie smiled apologetically and said, “Or, maybe I’ll take care of them first. Do you mind?” He smiled. “It’s fine. If you’d rather, I can actually use the bathroom. I’m helpful that way.” She frowned as she left to find Andrew. “Oh, no. No, just give me a minute and I’ll be ready for you.” He wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him using the bathroom here. It seemed like an easy solution to unburden her, and it wasn’t like there were patients waiting. He’d gotten better at handling his diapers, but she still seemed dismissive of his attempts to help. He sat and chatted with Thomas, until Thomas was called to come get changed. Andrew emerged wearing pajamas, and resumed playing without so much as a glance at him, which told him Andrew was growing more comfortable with him. Apparently Thomas was just wet, but he dutifully followed directions and returned a moment later, also wearing pajamas, very like his brother’s. Then he heard his own name called. The boys didn’t look up, and, smiling ruefully, he followed the sound of her voice back to her bedroom. She was tossing a small wrapped up diaper into a sealed container, and had a large fresh one sitting on her bed. “Time for my big boy’s turn,” she said, smiling, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him on the cheek, and turned him so he was facing away from her bed. Then her hands came down to his chest, and she playfully pushed him gently back toward the bed. He laughed as he fell onto the bed, then, catching the hint, unbuckled his pants as she locked the door. She changed him without any extra touching, even though he hardened as she touched him. But she pulled the front of the diaper up against his erect penis, pointed up toward his belly, and taped him up quickly. She then patted the front of his diaper, and said with a smile, “You put that away for now. Maybe there’ll be time for that later.” She left the room. He took a deep breath. He’d waited a long time for her to touch him outside of work. But—of course—this wasn’t the time, with her kids awake in the next room. So he took a few deep breaths and tried to distract himself enough that his erection would subside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy when she left his penis in the “up” position. In this position, there seemed like there was more friction and movement against that sensitive part. This combination seemed to make it more difficult to go down on its own. And she had taped the diaper so tight that it was hard to adjust himself, or even touch himself at all. He could barely sneak a finger down to push himself into a more comfortable position after he softened, if he sucked in his gut. He’d kind of gotten used to this type of frustration, but it was still annoying. In fact, he was frequently hard inside his diaper, due both to her deliberate ministrations and also from her more practical touching during changing time. It was certainly one reason he didn’t object anymore to the diaperings. As his desire for her grew, every diaper change was a little magical, so that now almost anything diaper-related made him think of sex. He could hardly see a diaper or smell baby powder without getting a little excited. He was a little overdue for an orgasm; that would certainly help. Normally, he’d have just gone home after work and taken care of that tension himself. But she’d left the diaper on him after work, which put a kink in his plans. So he was ready! And it seemed likely that tonight the reward might be worth all he’d allowed to happen to him this past month or two. Finally, he felt he could leave the bedroom without a visible erection under his diaper. He rejoined the little family as the boys had a snack and read a story before bed. For a while after they were asleep, he and Julie sat up and talked. Eventually, Julie winked at him, and said, “It might just be time to take that diaper off.” In her bedroom, she laid him down on her bed. He sprang to attention as soon as she untaped his diaper. He was surprised and a little alarmed to see he was wet, but was distracted enough by impending events that he didn’t care. Julie noticed his surprise, however, and commented on it. “You didn’t know?” Blushing, he shook his head. “Glad you were tucked away in one of these, then!” Then she rolled it up and tossed it away. Julie cleaned him off, as usual, and this time, did not rediaper him. She cooed to him about how happy he made her, and how she wanted to make him happy. Her soft, warm hand moved up and down his member, and he was in a state of bliss. She reached over to her bedside table, pumped out a little hand lotion, and kept going. He was a little too ready for this, from her, right now. He came quickly, spurting over his belly, even up to his chest. He gasped, and eventually opened his eyes to see Julie smiling fondly at him. She cleaned him off and laid down next to him. “That’s been a long time ‘coming’, hasn’t it?” she asked playfully. “I’ve been sort of teasing you for quite a while.” “Yeah,” he panted. “You have.” He smiled. “But I forgive you. Your hands are sooo nice.” His eyes found hers. “But…I’m sure you’ve been waiting a while as well.” His own hand stroked her stomach. Her breath caught. “Well, perhaps I have. What are you prepared to do about that?” She coyly looked back at him. He smiled. “Anything you’d like! What’s your pleasure, Miss Julie?” “Ooh, ‘Miss Julie’? I could get used to that,” she said, then hummed a little with pleasure as his hands played over her clothes. “I do have a rule about no intercourse on the first date, so no use waiting for you to, um, recharge. But perhaps there is some other way you might be able to help?” She smiled as his face disappeared under her dress. She could get used to this, too. Chapter 16 He left not too long after he’d brought her to two separate climaxes. He felt proud to have shown her his willingness—and ability—to pleasure her this way, and hopeful about this relationship. There were many parts of it that were strange beyond belief, if he was honest with himself. But Julie was special. She was smart and funny, and they clearly seemed to be made for each other. He was still quite sure he could fix this bladder issue. No matter what Julie said, it was weird to try to be the man in the relationship if she was changing his diaper. If he could fix that accidental wetting problem, and not wear a diaper outside of work, that would help his male ego a lot. He wanted to be Julie’s man, not her baby. She was patient, but he worried that if things kept going this way, he’d lose her. Of course, he needn’t have worried. Julie was thrilled with their date, happy with their surface relationship, and ecstatic that he had accepted wearing a diaper in her house. She was setting some important precedents, and he hadn’t really objected. She would dictate the times and manner of sex. He wouldn’t assume he could use her bathroom. And he seemed willing—and capable—of servicing her, which was always a good thing in a relationship. Over the next few weeks, they saw each other often. He dined with them frequently, and really enjoyed getting to know the energetic boys better. They came to expect his visits, and requested him to play with them down on the floor. They would tackle him, and he would tickle them, and Julie would watch, smiling. He always wore a diaper at her house. She did not want him leaking on her furniture, she said, and it was hard for him to argue, now that he wet sometimes without realizing it. At his own house, he went without a diaper, but with only intermittent success. He found his underwear, and sometimes his pants, wet every few days. This drove him crazy. He was sure that if he concentrated, he could solve the problem. But as he spent more and more time with Julie outside of work, he spent less time without a diaper on. And so there was less and less time to work on the problem. One night, Julie took him to bed after changing him out of his last wet diaper. They made love, and afterward basked a bit in the afterglow. “I was wondering if you might want to spend more time with us. The boys love you,” she said, adding shyly, “and I might, too.” His heart raced as he took in her words. “You do?” He reached out for her hand. She looked down demurely. “I do.” Her eyes met his. “Is that a problem for work?” He smiled broadly. “Who cares? I love you, too. We’ll make it work.” “If anyone can, I bet we can. We make a pretty good team, don’t we?” She smiled at him. “Let’s get you ready for bed.” After he had a warm, clean diaper taped onto him, they lay in bed happily for a bit, lost in their own thoughts. She eventually spoke up tentatively. “What would you think…about moving in with us?” She rushed on to explain. “It might be easier for my boys. They’ve grown to expect you here, and are confused when you aren’t. It might be a little tight in terms of space around here, but cozy can be nice, too.” He thought about it. “That sounds great,” he said quickly. He wanted to spend every minute with Julie. “Would I give up my apartment?” She shrugged. “If you want. You don’t have to decide right away. We could just try it for a while.” They weren’t talking about anything permanent, so it wasn’t intimidating. He beamed. “I’m in! Let’s try it.” The next night, after supper, they spent some time talking about the logistics of such a move. They decided on the following weekend, and talked about what he might bring. He wouldn’t really need a moving truck, since her apartment was essentially full. But there were a few things he’d like around, and his clothes. As they cleared the dishes, she looked at him sideways. “You know, it would mean that you have to wear diapers 24/7. I’m still not having you leak on my furniture. Are you ready to man up for that?” He grimaced a little. He hadn’t really thought of that. And that was a big question, wasn’t it? She was laying it out there for him. How much did he want her? Enough to put up with round-the-clock diapers? She saw him hesitate and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, come on.” He wasn’t eager to concede this point right now. Maybe he could put off this conversation to consider how to convince her. “We can talk about it.” She turned to face him. “Well, we’re kind of talking about it now. And it’s not negotiable on my end. My boys need a good role model. To them, the answer to your wetting problem is pretty obvious. You have to wear diapers if you wet your big-boy pants. It wouldn’t make sense to them if you didn’t follow the same rules. I can’t confuse them, and I also don’t happen to like stains and odors.” He looked down. It was hard to argue against her logic. “But how am I going to get better at this if I’m always wearing those things?” She came to him and put her arms around him. “We’ll work on it if that is important to you. But safety—and hygiene—first, you know?” She kissed him. “Guess it makes moving in a little easier, right? No need to bring any underwear.” She smiled at him. He loved her smile. Nevertheless, he resisted, feeling trapped. Wearing diapers was still embarrassing to him. He looked away. “But…I want to be a man for you, not a little boy. How can you love me if you’re changing my…” He couldn’t even say it to her. “Taking care of a medical issue IS being a man,” she reminded him firmly, frowning gently. “Being a good role model to my boys, taking responsibility for yourself, being a good doctor, those are all part of being a grown-up. You ARE a man to me. I don’t care where you go pee-pee.” Her hand traveled down his side and to the front of his pants. “Now, I’m not going to hear another word about it. Instead, it feels like you’re wet, and I’d like to change you and let you show me what kind of man you are.” She squeezed his wet diaper suggestively. He hardened instantly, and she smiled. “Mmm, that’s my big boy.” He wondered for a moment if he’d ever won an argument with her. Then her hand pulled at his insistently, and he decided that, for now, it didn’t really matter. Chapter 17 The boxes were unpacked, supper was served and cleared, and he had just finished the dishes. They had spent the better part of the day moving some of his stuff into her apartment. She didn’t have a lot of extra space, so he was just moving in his clothes (sans underpants), pantry supplies, and books. Julie was getting her boys settled with a coloring activity. He walked into the family room, and felt the pressure start to build in his bowels that told him he was going to need to go. And that meant that it was time to confront Julie about this. He needed to say something now, since it would definitely come up again and again. Time to make a stand. There was no reason he couldn’t poop in the potty at her house. He stood in the entrance to the room, and Julie looked up at him. “Um, do you have a minute?” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. She smiled and stood up, coming over to him. He turned and walked back over to the kitchen table, where the kids would not hear them. “I need to go to the bathroom, and I’d like to use the toilet.” She appeared confused. “Why?” He’d seen Julie take this approach before, playing dumb. It annoyed him, if he was honest. But he managed to keep his temper. “Because I LIKE to use the toilet. I’m a grownup and I need to go.” Her face cleared as she understood. “You need to poop?” she asked. When he nodded, Julie’s face grew firm. “We’ve already talked about this. But I’ll explain again. I want you to use your diaper in this house. I don’t want you in my bathroom except to shave, shower, or brush your teeth. Understand?” she said, looking intently into his face. “Say it back to me so I know you heard me.” “But—“ “No, repeat it to me.” He sighed. “You want me to use my diaper.” “And stay out of my bathroom except for what?” “Taking a shower, shaving, and brushing my teeth.” She patted his cheek. “That’s a good boy.” She turned to go. He couldn’t give up that easily. “But why? That seems unreasonable. I don’t like to…you know, poop…in my diaper. I’d really like to use the potty. And…and…it has to be easier for you if I…take care of it…like an adult rather than if you have to change my diaper, especially when it’s…you know…” She shook her head impatiently. “No, it’s not easier for me. Because it means that you have to bother me to come change you out of your diaper, then wait for you to go, then change you back into your diaper. So it is actually taking more of my time if you don’t poop in your diaper like a good boy. I’m sure you aren’t telling me that your stupid modesty is worth wasting that much of my time, are you?” Her face looked stern now. He didn’t want to make her angry, so this was a fine line to walk. He’d learned that upsetting her would not help him win an argument with her. But his need for a toilet was becoming more insistent. “Of course not, it’s just…” he trailed off, considering a different tack. “I don’t understand why you don’t care about my feelings about this.” Her face turned more tender. “I do care. But.” She caressed his cheek. “Your feelings about pooping are silly, and we have talked about them over and over. You get embarrassed about the funniest things, and I view one of my jobs as getting you over that childish hump. Sometimes being a big boy means doing things you don’t like. And this particular thing is very important to me. Do you understand?” He nodded sullenly, despairing that she would not give in on letting him use her potty. “I can’t hear your manners,” she reminded softly. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, as the pressure in his bowels increased. “It’s just that—“ “Ah-ah,” she interrupted sharply. “That’s the end of that conversation. We’re not having another word about my private potty. Understand?” He nodded, and, when he noticed a pause, said, “Yes, ma’am.” She grabbed his hand, and started to pull him back into the family room. “Then come on back in and join the family. Enough of this silly talk.” He pulled back. “Um, can you please just, uh, give me a moment in here,” he asked, looking around a little desperately. “I just need, like, a minute of privacy. Please. At least give me that.” Julie stepped back and looked him up and down slyly. She suppressed a smile. “No, I don’t think so. I want to show you something in the family room.” He started to object, but when her eyebrows went up, he silenced himself and followed her reluctantly. She went to her boys, who were starting to argue about each other stealing crayons. At least she allowed him to stand behind her, pretending to admire the boys’ drawings, instead of in her line of sight, which was a small blessing. He really didn’t want to poop in front of her, despite everything. He felt his bowels moving, and yet still tried to hold off. “Can I get you anything from the kitchen?” he asked as he started to sweat a little. Anything to let him poop in private. Julie paused and looked around at him. She smiled wickedly. “Oh, no, thank you. Being together is why it’s so much fun to live together.” His face drained. She wanted him to fill his diaper here and now. Not that there was much choice. Damn that fiber! So much harder to fight against it. As she turned her head back to her kids, he let it out, aware that he was grunting softly, but unable to quiet himself completely. He partially squatted to finish. The boys were still busy arguing and coloring, and—oddly—Julie did not react to his act of submission. She had to have heard him. At this point, for goodness sake, she had to smell him. But she kept talking to the boys as if he weren’t there. He didn’t know what to do. Obviously, he needed to be changed. And clearly, Julie must have known this. Did she want him to interrupt her? Or, since she knew, did she want him just to wait quietly? In the office she changed him immediately. Were the rules different at home? He hated to draw attention to himself in this state, so he decided to wait quietly. What he really didn’t want to do was move. But two minutes later, when Julie had shown no sign of paying him any attention, he subtly (he hoped) cleared his voice. Julie looked up at him, and said unexpectedly, “Hey, could you do me a favor? Could you sit here with the boys for a second while I grab them a snack? It’ll just take a second but I don’t like to leave them alone with weapons as dangerous as crayons.” Sitting was the last thing in the world he wanted to do right now. But before he could answer, she jumped up and indicated that he was to take her place at the little coffee table that now doubled as a craft table. He looked at her, concerned, trying to talk with his eyes. “But I—“ She interrupted with one hand on his back and one on his shoulder. “I’ll just stop you there. I think the words you were looking for were, yes, ma’am, right?” She smiled knowingly at him. “Your little…situation…will wait a few minutes. We’re all friends here.” He let himself be guided to the floor. She said helpfully, “Kneeling would be okay, if you don’t want to sit, whichever is most comfortable.” He quickly knelt, leaning forward and trying not to disturb the load in his diaper. She stood behind him now, and he suddenly felt her hands on his head, pulling it back, back, back. He looked up to see her smirking and leaning down to kiss him. “I love it when you are good for me,” she said. He agreeably moved to meet her lips, only realizing as they kissed that she had forced him back on his heels. He could feel his messy diaper becoming messier. She met his eyes briefly, noting the flinching expression on his face. “Just give me a minute. Patience is a virtue.” It was more than a minute. The foul smell enveloped him. He tried to distract himself by asking what Andrew was making. He was mostly scribbling, but determinedly using very specific colors. He would have been a lot more amused had he not been almost entirely focused on his diaper. To make it worse, after about five minutes, he found he could not keep kneeling because his foot was falling asleep. He tried to shift his weight, feeling a squishing around his bottom, but it didn’t help. He tried to pull his foot out from under him, but as he could not feel his foot, he lost his balance and landed hard on his cushioned butt. New waves of stink wafted up toward him, and he choked on the smell. Andrew was oblivious, thank goodness. But he couldn’t exactly make himself comfortable sitting in his mess. How long would it be before Julie returned? He was getting annoyed at her absence, and he was unhappy at the cooling mess in his diaper that, the more he thought about, didn’t even need to be there! He struggled to his feet, shook off the tingling in his feet, and headed to the kitchen. He did take care to walk with his legs apart so that he didn’t make things even messier. Julie saw him waddling into the kitchen and stifled a laugh. She was pushing him a bit tonight to see how submissive he really was. But this night was important to setting their hierarchy in this new stage in their relationship. Apparently, while he was certainly malleable, he still had a little fight in him. She didn’t mind that at all. She didn’t want a wimp for a boyfriend (or husband, if all went well). It was good if he could stand up for himself. But he needed to know that in their relationship, she was the boss, and there were consequences to disobeying her. “Where have you BEEN?” he asked her once he got to the kitchen, his tone a little more angry than he intended. He was so uncomfortable and embarrassed. “If I’m going to have to use my diaper, I need you to change me! It’s…” His voice choked a little. He tried to keep himself from crying. He was so frustrated and uncomfortable. “It’s just so…” Julie was in the middle of pouring milk into sippy cups and getting out goldfish. She stopped and stared at him. “What are YOU doing out here?” she replied icily, staring him into silence. After he trailed off unhappily, she continued, “I gave you what I thought was a simple instruction: to sit with the boys until I got back. I didn’t want them left alone. I was making them a snack that would keep them busy long enough that I could change you. Now please go back and wait with them. Please do not make me upset with you.” “Okay,” he grumbled after a moment. “I just don’t understand what is taking so long.” She glared at him. “Well, I’m sorry you’ve had to spend time with my kids. I promise you that within a few minutes, you and I will be spending quite a bit of time alone together, one on one. Now go sit down at the coffee table.” It must have been the continued preoccupation with his diaper that kept him from hearing the danger in her voice. He sullenly turned around and waddled back out to stand near the coffee table. Rather than sitting again, he decided he would stand to wait. The kids were getting restless. Andrew had stood up and was throwing the crayons at his brother. “Andrew, please don’t throw crayons,” he offered tentatively. Andrew ignored him. This would be a good time to redirect him, he thought, sitting him back down, making him pick up the crayons, or giving him a different activity to do. But that would require him to bend over or sit again, and he didn’t want to move. The weighty lump in his diaper immobilized him. So his intervention was not very helpful, and Andrew threw another crayon. Thomas, of course, did not like that, and soon the brothers were enjoying launching different colors at each other. When Julie entered the room, she took in the scene quickly, pausing only a moment before yelling, “What is going on here? Boys! Pick up the crayons and put them in the box. Now.” The boys quickly complied. Maybe it helped that she was carrying snacks, or the mommy’s-mad tone, but they seemed to know that Julie meant business. She turned to him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re not sitting like I asked, and that you weren’t helping here. Go wait for me in our bedroom.” Like the boys, he finally recognized that tone, and didn’t argue. He was just happy that she would do something. He waddled into the bedroom and stood near the bed, where there was a changing pad lying next to a large unopened diaper, powder, and wipes. He let his eyes wander around this room, which was now his as well as hers. His eyes settled on a chair from the dining room that was sitting near the window. Was that here before? His musings were interrupted by Julie’s businesslike entrance. “Lie down on the bed on the towel, please,” she said brusquely. She turned and locked the door. Sensing her angry mood, he obeyed quickly. Those boys could really make her mad! He decided he would help ease her stress by showing how he could cooperate. Getting out of this diaper more quickly suited him very well. He laid back into the by-now very familiar position she had shown him. She moved the box of wipes to within reach, and untaped his diaper. She pulled it forward, and said, “Up.” He raised his legs and grabbed his knees. His skin felt cool to the air as the odor suddenly worsened noticeably in the room. He felt her use the diaper to clean the bulk of his mess off, then fold the diaper under him. “You know,” she said as she drew a cold wipe down and across his hips. “We’re all going to need to work together if this is going to work. Those little guys take a lot of work, and I’m going to need your full cooperation. Down,” she said. This time, as he was focused on her words, it took him a moment to realize she had commanded him to lower his legs. He put his feet on the bed, realizing that she did not expect him to say anything. Julie got a clean wipe and used it to clean his groin. He grew hard as she cleansed his penis and testicles, then pulled them to one side, then the other. He hoped she would notice and touch him a little. The door was locked, wasn’t it? But if she noticed, she apparently wasn’t in the mood. His penis twitched, straight up in the air, untouched. He fought the urge to reach down and at least tuck it somewhere so it wouldn’t look so ridiculous. Instead, she continued what he realized was a lecture. “I was NOT pleased with your behavior tonight.” “Up,” she instructed. She finished the cleaning ritual, as she continued, “After I specifically asked you for patience, you came in and yelled at me. If you’d taken time to notice, you’d have seen that I had set up the bedroom to change you, and was making the boys a snack so we’d have time alone.” He was silent, knowing she needed to vent. He realized she was right. She bundled the messy diaper up and wrapped it in a bag. Then she used a new wipe to clean her hands, then tossed all of them into the sealed trash can. “Worse than that, you left the boys alone when I’d directly asked you to watch them. They were getting restless, and I needed you there. You left them alone, and they started making a mess.” He waited for her to grab a fresh diaper, but instead she stood for a moment with her arms crossed. He propped himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, I’m really sorry, honey,” he offered. “It’s just that in the past, you’ve always been so quick about helping me when…that…happens.” She nodded. “Because we’ve been at the office, and we’ve needed to be very discrete. But I’m juggling a lot more balls here at home. I was very disappointed with you tonight.” His cheeks burned. He resented being made to poop in his diaper and then not being changed. Didn’t it seem like too much to ask of anyone? “Look, I said I’m sorry. It’s…just…so gross. You don’t understand. If you want me to use a diaper like that, you kind of need to help me out when it happens. I’m not sure what you want me to do.” She coolly regarded him. “I want you to listen to me and cooperate. Apparently you don’t understand how important that is to me.” She turned around and sat in the chair by the dresser. “So now I’m going to make sure you understand how important it is to me.” He paled as he saw her reach over to the dresser and pick up her hairbrush. His eyes darted around. She had implied this could happen again, but he didn’t think… “Um, I totally understand, Julie. So…but, um…isn’t there some other way? I—I get it now. I understand how important it is to you. I’ll listen from now on. There’s no need for…” But she sat there stonily, staring at him. “If you want to show me that you know how to listen to me and follow my directions, I suggest you come stand next to me right now.” He was sweating a little. He’d been across her lap before and didn’t want to do it again. “But…your boys are…” “They’ll be fine. They’ve got a snack and a little video they love. COME. HERE.” He slowly stood, not sure how else to delay the inevitable. He took a step forward, then another. Her sober face did not promise mercy. When he’d gotten near enough, considering what else he could say to change her mind, she reached up suddenly and grabbed his ear, pulling firmly. Searing pain erupted from his ear. He bent down to relieve it and suddenly found himself over his girlfriend’s lap. She shifted and he found that one of her legs was over both of his. He couldn’t move. He stared at the floor, his stomach in knots. He felt something cool on his bottom. She rubbed him with her brush. “When I tell you to do something, like sit with my kids, or to come stand near me, there is a REASON. I. WANT. YOU. TO. DO. IT.” Each word was suddenly punctuated with a sharp stinging smack to his rear end. It stopped for a moment, and the pain seeped in. He gasped. That wasn’t her hand. She was using the brush right away. This was much worse than last time. “If I can stop to explain, I will. If I don’t explain, you need to understand that I. WILL. EXPLAIN. WHEN. I CAN. JUST. FOLLOW. MY. DIRECTIONS.” He gasped again. It was hard to breathe when she was spanking him this hard and fast. The lecture and spanking went on until he was crying. Crying because of the pain, and crying because he had disappointed Julie. At some point along the line, she stopped talking, but he didn’t notice. Finally, he noticed she had stopped spanking. She let him stop crying, then helped him stand. He stood before her, hands holding his bottom, sniffling. “Look at me, sweetie.” He had trouble meeting her eyes. “Look at me.” She guided his chin upward until their eyes met. “I – I’m sorry,” he sniffled. She smiled. “I know you are. And I’m not mad at you anymore. Give me a hug.” She stood and they hugged for a long time. Eventually she looked at the clock. “We have a few minutes before the end of the video. There are certainly lots of things we could have done during that time if you hadn’t needed a spanking… but for tonight, let’s get you in a nice clean diaper. How does that sound?” He nodded, and laid down on the bed. His bottom still stung, and felt so hot. She retrieved another diaper, and before taping it on him, rubbed some lotion, then some powder, onto his skin. When he was diapered, he stood up. “Can I help you with anything?” Noticing the improved attitude, Julie beamed. “Sure. Why don’t you clean up the boys’ snacks and sippy cups, and I’ll get them ready for bed?” After he dressed himself, they worked to get the boys into bed and the house cleaned up. They snuggled on the sofa watching a movie before Julie yawned and said it was time for bed. Julie let him brush his teeth in her bathroom, then shooed him out so she could pee before bed. She came out and grabbed a new diaper, tossing it onto the bed. “Okay, time for a bedtime diaper.” He had indeed wet himself while she was in the bathroom, so he took his pants off and laid down. Julie cleaned him up, and then, as he hoped, let her hand linger on him until he became hard. She turned down the lights, seductively removed her clothes, and took advantage of his nakedness. As had become their habit, he pleasured her first “to get her in the mood,” then entered her. They came together. Afterward, they lay together for a few minutes, and he felt her hands touch his bottom, still hot from the spanking. “Sorry about the punishment. But I still think it’s better than letting any anger fester unspoken. Don’t you?” At this, her hand drifted around to the front of him. He had to smile. The sex had certainly salvaged the night very nicely for him. “I guess so,” he said thoughtfully. “I still think we could talk about…” He paused when he saw Julie’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “Maybe we can talk about that later. I’m tired now.” She nodded in approval at his discretion. “I bet you are. I’d better get your diaper on you so you don’t wet my bed.” She couldn’t see him roll his eyes, which was good. She cleaned him again, taped him up, then exclaimed, “Oh! I just remembered something I made for you!” Confused, he sat partway up on the bed as he watched her dart to the closet and search for something. “Here it is! Just finished it last night. It’s sort of a welcome-to-our-apartment gift. Hope you like it.” She held out what looked to him like a t-shirt. Wait, no, it was too long—what was that? A nightshirt? She waited for him to say something, good or bad, about her creation—would he accept this next step? Then she saw his wrinkled brow and realized why he was silent. He didn’t know what this garment was. Julie was happy to explain. “It’s a onesie! It can be your jammies now that you live here. You wear it to bed! The boys have always worn one, and I thought it looked so cute on them, I decided to make one for you. The nice thing for you is that it completely covers your diaper. I know you’re still a little self-conscious about that. Do you like it?” He had no idea. He hadn’t been around kids before, and wasn’t familiar with it. But she was so happy, and he was touched by the idea that she would make clothing for him. So he said, “Of course! It’s wonderful.” Her response, a broad smile, made him feel happy. He reached out for it, and she shook her head. She wrinkled it up in her hands, intending to help him into it. He sat waiting, and she stretched it over his head. It fell around him like a shirt, but was quite long. He looked down, frowning. Julie pushed him back. “Lie down, silly. There are snaps.” He let her push him back, and felt her hands pulling at the shirt. It seemed to be connected by something underneath. She was busy for a moment, then patted his diaper. “Ok. Sit up and let’s see how it fits.” He dutifully sat up, feeling the shirt pull downward as he did so. He looked down and saw that the shirt covered the diaper. He didn’t mind that. “Good so far. Can you stand up in front of the mirror?” As he did, he saw that it was just a long t-shirt that snapped at his crotch. He liked not having to see the diaper, though it wasn’t perfect. The bulge from it was still obvious. He looked more closely at the fabric. The shirt was light blue, and had yellow rocket ships on it, interspersed with stars. She saw him looking. “Sorry, this was the only fabric I had around.” He smiled and kissed her. “It’s fine. I like it. I used to love rockets. They remind me of my youth. It was so nice of you to think of me.” She stood back and looked at him. She reached forward and pulled at the crotch, then smiled, apparently pleased. “I believe that is going to work well!” Then she frowned slightly. “But those snaps are kind of tough to handle if you can’t see them well. If it’s all the same to you, why don’t you let me be the one to snap and unsnap them. You don’t really have any need to bother with them.” “Yes, ma’am,” he responded instinctually. But he was still thinking about the childish fabric. He didn’t really love it, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the other stuff he put up with, for God’s sake. And tonight, he certainly wanted to stay on Julie’s good side. His bottom still radiated heat, trapped by the diaper. But lying close to Julie overnight, the heat faded, and he felt safe, falling asleep with her arm around him. Julie was awake for a while, musing over how perfectly this evening had played out. She’d made it clear firmly but lovingly that she was in charge, and he had eventually accepted it, as she knew he would. He’d be careful about listening to her, at least for a while, until he’d need another reminder. He understood that the potty was off-limits. She could keep him out of the bathroom except for supervised visits. He’d help with the boys, which was wonderful. And she’d really only gotten started. Now that he was here, his training could really ramp up. Never out of diapers. Never unsupervised in a bathroom. And now in a onesie, which would help keep his hands from mischief. She smiled and closed her eyes. Chapter 18 The next day was Sunday, and he slept in. When he woke up, he found Julie had already awakened. As he heard the boys chattering happily in the kitchen, he understood why. Small children didn’t allow parents to sleep in very late. He was immediately aware of how hot he was. Well, not all of him, but his crotch. He was confused for a second until his hands found his diaper. He had not slept in his diaper before, and he found he was a little sweaty. But then he wondered if it was really sweat. He pushed at his diaper and was relieved that it didn’t seem wet. But he couldn’t see that little indicator strip now that he wore his onesie. He could unsnap the onesie and look, but—oh, crap, Julie had told him not to do that himself, hadn’t she? Well, he probably didn’t really need to look. He could tell he needed to pee, pretty badly. He got out of bed and turned toward her bathroom. He sighed. That’s right. It was her bathroom, not his. Since he was wearing a diaper, he didn’t have a reason to go in there, did he? She seemed very territorial about it, for some reason. Maybe issues from a past relationship? Otherwise it seemed weird. Should he find her and talk about that? It needed to happen. But—he could hear her, busy with the kids. This wasn’t a good time to get into it. And…he really needed to go. For now, he decided he might as well use this diaper. I mean, he was wearing it, wasn’t he? It would certainly make Julie happy, and that might make for a nice day! He relaxed and emptied his bladder into his diaper, and was somewhat surprised to notice that he was enjoying the sensation. Peeing was nice, and he had gotten used to the spreading warmth in his diaper. It didn’t really feel wet until later. Holy cow! There was a lot of pee this morning! That made sense—he was sure that was true most mornings, but this was the first time he’d peed into his diaper in the morning, so it was just more immediate to him. The diaper held it, but became extremely heavy and swollen. It pulled downward, which in turn pulled the onesie down. He could actually feel the fabric put some pressure on his shoulders. When he was done, he looked around for something to put on over his diaper/onesie combination, and found some loose fitting shorts. It was awkward to dress over such a full saggy diaper. He headed out to the kitchen, aware that he couldn’t even really walk normally with his diaper this wet. When Julie saw him waddling out into the kitchen, she stifled a laugh, enjoying his toddler-like appearance. She got up and went over to kiss him warmly, hoping her mirth did not show. After the kiss, she looked down and tugged on his shorts. “You can lose these, sweetie. You don’t need shorts with a onesie.” He was a little self-conscious, though. “I don’t mind. It feels funny not to wear pants.” “No, no,” she said. “That makes it harder to see when you need to be changed. Please take them off. You can leave them in the bedroom.” She pointed to her sons, obliviously wearing only their diapers and onesies. He sighed. “But—“ “Ah, ah,” she interrupted. “I don’t like that word. It makes me think you want to argue.” She was sort of smiling, and her eyes sparkled. She didn’t seem mad. She reached down and pulled down his shorts, letting them fall to the floor. Then she stood back up and looked him in the eye. “Do you want to argue?” Now there was a flash of a challenge in her face, though she still had a hint of of a smile on her face, as if she already knew the answer. He swallowed and shook his head. He did not like challenging her. “No, ma’am.” She smiled her radiant smile at him. How could she look so pretty first thing in the morning? It was simple–but not always easy–to make her happy. “What would you like for breakfast?” After returning his shorts to the bedroom, he joined the boys for some eggs, toast, and coffee. Julie noted his lack of pants with a nod of approval. He was very self-conscious of this, but the boys certainly did not notice, so he shrugged and sat down for breakfast. He did not enjoy the squishy feeling of sitting in such a wet diaper, but Julie was busy and he assumed she would attend to him when able. After last night, he wasn’t going to complain about not being changed immediately. Sure enough, after breakfast, Julie changed the boys. He cleaned up the dishes from breakfast and felt like he needed to move his bowels. That was more typical for him than the accident last night. But suddenly Julie was there, waving to him to join her in the bedroom. He knew he should probably mention something about moving his bowels, but didn’t want to bring it up. So he was changed quickly and was very happy to get into a dry diaper. She then tended to herself, closing and locking the bathroom door for a few minutes. He found himself alone in the bedroom, with an urgent need to poop. He knew it was useless to ask about the potty, so he filled his diaper, happy at least to have some privacy. His task finished, he realized he was sort of stuck. He didn’t want to interrupt Julie, but also didn’t want to sit down. He awkwardly stood outside the bathroom door, waiting for her. After a few moments, the door unlocked and opened, and he smiled at her bashfully. She looked at him, obviously wondering why he was waiting at the door, then gave a quick sniff. “Seems like you could use another change, my friend,” she observed while she readied her toothbrush. “Why don’t you brush your teeth and shave, and then we can take care of that?” Later, wiping his bottom for the second time in ten minutes, she asked, “So do you usually poop right away after breakfast?” He nodded. “Well, since I started taking those fiber pills every day, I do, anyway,” he said, somewhat annoyed. He gasped a little as she poked her wipe into his bottom. He still couldn’t get used to that. He had to remember to ask her if it was still necessary. But Julie was nodding. “It will make it easier, though, if your messy diapers are predictable,” she said. “It helps me plan. And I’m sure you don’t want surprises, right?” He had to agree with her there. Even worse than pooping in his diaper would be doing it at work. “We can work with that. But maybe we’ll wait to change your wet diaper tomorrow morning until after you’ve pooped. Diapers aren’t cheap.” She helped him off with his onesie, then went to wash her hands. “Why don’t you shower, then we’ll get you into a nice clean diaper and some grown-up clothes for the day?” He liked the sound of a shower. He did notice that Julie didn’t really leave the bathroom during his shower. Women take so much time getting ready! he thought, though he certainly did not express this. He enjoyed his shower and the feeling of being undiapered for a few minutes. He had finished washing his hair when he heard a knock on the translucent shower door and saw Julie nearby. He opened it a crack. “I noticed some stubble down there this morning. I left a razor in the shower if you want to take care of that.” “Sure,” he said, agreeably. At home he didn’t shave his diaper area every day, but he certainly could. If it kept Julie happy, he was all for it. The happier she was, the more likely he could find a time to make her listen to his concerns about not being allowed in her bathroom, or to change himself. When he was done, he found a fresh diaper waiting for him on the bed. He dried off, combed his hair, and applied some deodorant, but Julie still wasn’t around. Still naked, he poked his head out of the bedroom, aware that—in this house, anyway—he couldn’t really get dressed without his diaper. But she wasn’t in the hall. He could hear her talking to the boys in the family room. Again he was stuck with a dilemma. He didn’t want to bother or annoy her, but he felt foolish just hanging out naked. He decided to get dressed without the diaper, and just let her put it on him when she was ready. As it happened, Julie walked in as he was pulling on his pants. “Whoa, cowboy! Forgetting something?” she laughed. He let the pants drop and reddened. “No, of course not,” he said. “I just thought…” She pushed him gently to his back on the bed. “You thought what? That you’d put on your grown-up pants without a diaper? That is not a good idea in your condition.” His condition? he thought. “I can hold it for a while,” he protested. She powdered him and pulled the diaper between his legs. “Maybe, but we don’t know how long. If I’m not here when you come out, I’d like you to come find me before getting dressed.” “Naked?!” he asked. “Well, or with your shirt on. Or you could text me. How about that?” He nodded, then caught himself. “Yes, ma’am. I just don’t like to be dependent on you for everything.” She ducked into her bathroom to wash off her hands. He stood and resumed putting his pants on. She returned to the bedroom and patted his cheek. “Oh, sweetie, you aren’t. It’s no great shame that you aren’t an expert at changing diapers. Men traditionally aren’t,” she smiled, patting the front of his diaper. He was going to comment on that when Julie said, “And now I think we’ll be ready to hit the mall after lunch. Still up for it?” They had agreed to go shopping together today. They needed a few new things for the apartment, and the boys were growing out of their shoes. Together they got the little ones in their car seats, and headed to the mall, listening to a Sesame Street playlist Julie had prepared for the car. She was such a good mom, he thought. On the way, she said, “Maybe this trip would be a good time to work on staying dry. It won’t be as easy for me to change you when we’re out, you know. Can you focus on that, and we’ll see how you do?” He thought that made sense, and was eager for the challenge. He also secretly wanted to show Julie he could stay dry. They had fun at the mall. The boys were very good; Julie had a double stroller for them, though sometimes they liked to get out and walk. They stopped and had a drink in the food court. Not long afterward, they passed a family restroom, and Julie took the opportunity to check the boys’ diapers. Thomas was wet, but only a little. Andrew, however, needed a change. While they were in the restroom, he played with Thomas outside. Julie opened the door and beckoned him over. “How are you doing?” she asked in a low voice. “Still dry?” He considered. Honestly, he had forgotten. His brow wrinkled as he tried to remember if he had wet. Julie sighed a little and pulled him into the little bathroom. They got the stroller inside as well. “Let me just check.” Julie patted his diaper, and a look of concern crossed her face. She quickly undid his belt, unsnapped and unzipped him, and looked at the diaper. He looked down, too, trying to see. She did up his pants again, then stood, a grim look on her face. His hopes fell. “You don’t remember going, do you?” she asked, fixing his belt. Crestfallen, he shook his head, then remembered to say, “No, ma’am. Maybe after we stopped for drinks?” He was silent for a moment, considering. “That’s not good, is it?” While Julie was secretly quite pleased, she did not let her joy show on her face. She shook her head solemnly as they all tumbled out of the little bathroom. “No, it is certainly not good. Looks like you’re going to be in those diapers full-time for the foreseeable future, mister.” Chapter 19 That night Julie’s mother came over for dinner, as she apparently did every Sunday night. He was nervous, as this was the first time he was to meet her. Julie ordered take-out, which was the tradition. She didn’t like to cook on Sunday nights, and he went to pick it up. When he arrived home, Mrs. Davis was already there. She was on the sofa, playing with her grandsons, who were thrilled to see her. Julie had poured some wine for the adults and was setting the table. “So this is the famous doctor I have heard so much about,” her mother said warmly, standing. He walked over, carried dinner in one hand, and said, “It is so nice to finally meet you.” He extended his other to shake hers, but Mrs. Davis held open her arms. “Give me a hug.” She pulled him close for a moment, and he had an uncomfortable thought that maybe she’d be able to feel his diaper. Or hear it. Or even smell it—had he wet this one yet? But she gave no indication that anything was amiss, and her smile was truly warm and welcoming. He could see where Julie had inherited her charms. They got to know one another at the kitchen table over a few glasses of wine. Mrs. Davis had been a nurse, and had inspired Julie to do the same. She was sharp and funny, and he felt comfortable around her immediately. But he did have a little bit of unease as he wondered how much she had heard about him. He heard about Julie’s upbringing. Like all mothers, she had a few practiced stories about her daughter, which seemed designed to embarrass her, but Julie took it in stride. Mrs. Davis helped feed the boys, but attentively listened as he described his family in turn. Afterward, he cleared the table and did the dishes as Julie and her mother played with the boys in the family room. Mrs. Davis noticed and clearly approved of his cooperative spirit, and Julie beamed with pride. They shared a meaningful look as he disappeared into the kitchen. When he had finished that chore, he joined them on the sofa. But Thomas chose that moment to fill his diaper, grunted determinedly in front of the coffee table. “Uh-oh, looks like someone is going to need a change,” Mrs. Davis commented, smiling. When Thomas had finished, she took him by the hand. “I’ll take care of this one,” she said. “Thanks, Mom,” Julie said. When her mother had left the room, Julie said to him, “She loves you. Nice job with the dishes! You passed the test!” He smiled. “Whew! Hope it wasn’t that close.” Julie shook her head. “Of course not. I’ve told her all about you. She was thrilled with you almost before she met you.” That reminded him to ask how many details Julie had shared. But at that moment Mrs. Davis came back into the room, carrying her grandson. “And here we are again, smelling much nicer than before. Nothing like a clean diaper, right?” she asked the room. Julie nodded. “Everybody loves that. Thanks again, Mom.” Her mother brushed aside the comment. “Of course. You work so hard being a mom for this family. I’m happy to take a turn.” Julie stood and looked at him. “Actually, maybe it’s time for us to take a moment as well,” she said. He looked up at her, confused. She cocked an eyebrow expectantly. He blushed. She wanted to change his diaper. “Oh, sure, right,” he said, not having any idea how to cover their obviously intentional exit. “No problem,” Mrs. Davis said, smiling at them. “We’ll be okay for a few minutes. Take all the time you need.” In the bedroom, he lowered his pants and laid down obediently on the bed, but hissed, “Does she know?” Julie unconcernedly pulled off the diaper tapes. “Know what?” She pulled down the diaper, which he saw was quite wet, and ran a wipe over his front. He sighed with exasperation. “About this! About my diapers. Did you tell her?” Julie couldn’t help but notice that now he said “my” diapers. Cute. A good sign. “No, of course not. How would she know?” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t know. It just seemed like it would have been obvious to her when you excused us out there. I mean, what else could we be doing?” Julie laughed as she wiped his bottom and found a dry diaper. “I don’t know. What do couples usually do in the bedroom?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye. He said, “Oh, sure, we just ducked into your bedroom to have sex for a minute.” Julie pulled the diaper between his legs and tightly taped it. “What we do behind closed doors is none of my mother’s business.” He stood and she patted him on his padded bottom. “You worry too much.” He pulled up his pants and refastened his belt. He felt better that Mrs. Davis didn’t know she changed his diaper. When they returned to the family room the boys were deeply engaged in playing a superhero story, with Mrs. Davis enjoying the show. She turned to them. “Everybody all set now?” she asked. “Now tell me: where did you go to medical school?” He wondered what she meant by that first question, but didn’t have time to dwell on that, as he was called on to answer the second. They had a good conversation. Mrs. Davis was genuinely interested in him, and seemed pleased with his answers. When the boys were put down to sleep, she excused herself as well. After Mrs. Davis had left, he cleaned up the kitchen. Drying his hands, he returned to the family room and saw Julie sewing. “You really are talented,” he said, hoping to keep the evening positive. He had hopes that tonight would end up happier than last night. Julie smiled, then leaned over and accepted a quick peck on the cheek. “Why, thank you, my love. Since you liked the first onesie, I’m making you a second one, for laundry days. What do you think?” The fabric was mixed blue and pink blocks. In truth, he had mixed feelings about these clothes. They had turned out to be quite comfortable to sleep in, and he liked that she was thinking of him enough to give him things. But he had come to the conclusion that they were more childish than he’d originally realized. There was a strong pattern in their relationship of Julie treating him like one of her young children. Individually these things—the diapers, the spankings, the onesies—seemed to make a little sense at the time, but collectively they were sort of hard to explain away. He realized he hadn’t answered. “Oh, really nice,” he said, thinking there would be time to talk about the child vs. man issue another time, once he’d gathered his thoughts. But he still felt like pushing back a little. “Hey, if you like the way these things look, why don’t you make yourself one? We could be like a whole onesie household?” He was curious how she would answer. She smiled. “Well, I like having a little easier access to what’s underneath, you know?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “And I bet you like having that access, too!” He caught her meaning and felt himself getting a little hard. How did she do that? She was so sexy, and that made it easier putting up with some of this stuff. She continued, “And of course, the snaps would make it harder for me to use the potty. That’s not an issue for you boys, so it just makes sense that if anyone gets to wear a onesie, it’s you. Boys have all the fun,” she said, shrugging. This seemed like the opportunity he was looking for to discuss the potty situation. He didn’t like how things were settling into a habit of him never using the potty—the bathroom, he corrected himself (Julie’s language was infectious!). He sat down next to her. Julie smiled a bit as she heard his diaper crinkle. “Can I ask you something?” he said. Still smiling, Julie laughed, “As long as it’s not about diapers. That’s settled, right?” Caught off guard, he stammered forward, “Well, I understand that I’ve been leaking sometimes, but…” “Wetting,” she corrected. She wrinkled her nose. “Leaking sounds like there is a problem with the diaper.” Not wanting to get bogged down in semantics, he nodded. “Ok, wetting. I understand that I’ve had some ‘wetting’ accidents, and that you want to protect your furniture. But I’ve never had any bowel issues, so I still don’t understand—“ Julie’s smile had vanished. She shook her head a little sadly as she looked at him. “You and your hang-up with pooping. What is it with you?” He paused to consider how to answer. How could she not see the difference? But she went right on, “I really don’t get it. It’s a natural bodily function. I’ve already told you: I don’t care, and changing you doesn’t bother me. I was hoping that once I’d proven that to you, you’d relax a bit. “And I’ve explained how much time it would take to undo your diaper and let you poop in the potty. It’s not about my personal preference: pooping in your diaper is just good time management.” He’d heard this before. But then why couldn’t he change himself? He clearly had a lot more diaper experience now; it couldn’t be that hard. “But—“ “Do NOT let another word out of your mouth if it is about diapers or pooping. I meant it when I said that issue is settled.” He considered quietly. “I can’t hear your manners.” He looked up and saw her eyes, fiery, and saw her lips pressed together. If he thought about it, he could still tell that his bottom was still a little sore from last night. “Yes, ma’am.” She relaxed a bit. “That’s my good boy. Why don’t you brush your teeth and bring me your onesie? It’s getting late.” He turned to obey. Julie was sweet almost all the time, but she didn’t like being questioned. The woman knew what she wanted! He’d have to think about how to approach this issue in the future. He didn’t want to test her now, but he wasn’t willing to give up his bathroom privileges forever. When he had been to Julie’s bathroom to brush, and found his onesie, he found her in the bedroom getting out a clean diaper. He set the onesie on the bed, and taking her cue, pulled off his pants and laid down on the bed. She attended to him efficiently, and though he was looking forward to some special fun during his bedtime diapering, he found himself rediapered and snapped into his onesie before he could protest. He read a little while Julie readied herself for bed. When she came to bed, she seemed a little quiet. He rubbed her neck a little until she turned to him. “How about taking advantage of that ‘easy access’?” he asked, smiling. That put a little smile on her face, and he happily ducked below the sheets. Julie was not hard to pleasure, and he took some delight in his ability to make her happy so quickly. He could feel himself stiffening inside his tight diaper during the process. When he reappeared above the sheets, Julie seemed more relaxed. She leaned over and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Thanks, baby. I needed that.” With that, she fell back against her pillow. He waited a moment, expectantly. When she didn’t make another move toward him, he frowned and scooted closer to her. But…she was breathing deeply like…she was asleep! He could feel himself under his diaper, hard and ready, but now had nothing to do about that. He lay back on his own pillow, and tried to rub himself through the diaper. It felt nice, but not nice enough. He wondered what Julie would do if she found dried cum inside his diaper. Would she mind? Would she notice? He noticed with disappointment that his onesie kept him from getting a hand down his diaper. He could unsnap it, but that might be loud enough to wake Julie. He tried to reach through the side, but Julie had apparently taped the diaper on quite tightly. And the onesie almost seemed designed to be tight around the sides as well, so he could barely get a finger in. Not enough to help, that was for sure. Briefly he considered getting up and going somewhere to attack this more effectively. But where? Because he wasn’t allowed in her bathroom, there was nowhere that could be completely private. He could sneak into the family room, but that seemed creepy with the kids in the apartment, and what if he woke Julie getting out of bed? What possible excuse could he have for not being in bed? Frustrated, he sighed heavily and tried to think of something else. He couldn’t believe Julie had forgotten his needs. It was a long time before he got sleepy and was able to rest. Julie, who was only pretending to sleep, heard him quiet down. She smiled. He had passed the test, though she had certainly made it difficult to do anything else. Her huffy mood earlier had been a bit of an act, designed to excuse her not being “in the mood”. And she had carefully diapered him tightly to make sure he wasn’t overly tempted. She didn’t think he would be crazy enough to untape his diaper tonight and take matters into his own hands. She had specifically emphasized her feelings about his touching his diaper in the past, and she had even told him not to unsnap his onesie. After having spanked him just last night, she had felt sure he would be good. Maybe he was starting to realize the best feature of his onesie, but if he hadn’t yet, he’d certainly notice soon enough. They were designed to cover his diaper, sure, and they made him look adorably infantile, which she enjoyed. But their true virtue was keeping his big boy hands away from himself. She knew he’d surely spent a lot of time pleasuring himself in the past, and she wanted that to change. She smiled as she thought about how he’d respond to her sexual control. They were together at work and at home, and there wasn’t anywhere he could go to be alone. Now that he was in a diaper all the time, which he was not to touch, the onesie might be overkill. But, she smiled to herself, it was still a nice touch. She didn’t want him afraid of her, exactly, but a healthy dose of respect for her discipline was necessary. He needed to know what she felt strongly about, and she was sure she hadn’t left any doubt. They hadn’t talked specifically about masturbation, so she was curious what he would do when given a tiny opportunity. He was a guy in his sexual prime, and so she was sure he was tempted. But he was also submissive, whether he knew it or not. She became surer as each day passed. As confident and decisive as he was in the office, he was deferential and meek at home. And it wasn’t that he was that frightened of her. She was seeing signs—little expressions, big erections—that told her that he was growing to like his position in the relationship. After all, he knew she called the shots, that he would be diapered 24/7 in her house, that she would spank him when she wanted, and yet he still jumped at the chance of moving in with her. Now, as she considered, it was she who felt like pleasuring herself to a second orgasm before she drifted off to sleep. But she could control herself without padding and tape. She would have plenty of opportunities in the future. Chapter 20 The next morning was much more rushed, as he and Julie had work. It generally followed the same pattern as the previous morning, though. He awoke and found Julie already up. He peed and waddled out to the kitchen in just his onesie. They all ate a quick breakfast, then Julie parked the boys in the family room with their toys and dashed to the bathroom. He cleaned up the kitchen and found it necessary to move his bowels before he was done. He finished up and carefully walked into the bedroom to await Julie’s help. He picked out some clothes while he was waiting. She opened the bathroom door, and called, “Ready to be changed?” He realized Julie was specifically asking if he had pooped yet, and he blushed a little. But he called back in the affirmative, and she came out in her underwear and bra, hair wrapped in a towel. She looked great, and he could tell that his horniness was cranked up by not having come the night before. However, the romance of the moment was tempered by the task at hand. She changed his messy, wet diaper, and sent him off to the shower with a pat on the bottom. She finished her makeup and dressed while he showered and shaved. As Julie finished powdering and diapering him, they could hear Julie’s mom arriving to take care of the boys. Julie hurriedly brushed the powder off her hands and set to gathering her work clothes. He finished dressing and emerged from the bedroom. Mrs. Davis was in the boys’ bedroom, apparently changing them into dry diapers. Julie yelled into him from the kitchen, “Sweetie, can you grab three of your diapers for my work bag, please? I’m out.” He turned to obey, then froze. Two things immediately occurred to him. First, there was no way that Mrs. Davis didn’t hear that. Second, that he needed to answer her, and by doing so, he would confirm their relationship status and agree that he used diapers. He could stay silent, but then he risked angering Julie. He wondered for a split-second whether she would spank him in front of her mother. But if she hadn’t kept his diapers a secret, why would she care about the spankings? Crap. “Yes, ma’am!” he yelled back, trying to sound playful but not mocking. He hoped making his response sound like a game to Mrs. Davis would cover some of the embarrassment he felt calling her “ma’am” around others. But for God’s sake, how could he pass off her reference to his diapers?! He felt his cheeks burn. Julie had said she hadn’t told her mom about his diapers. But was this just a slip? Or did Mrs. Davis already know? She seemed to know something the other night… But there was no time to wonder. Julie’s urgent voice broke through his thoughts. “Baby, let’s go. We’re going to be late!” He picked out three of his diapers and headed out to the kitchen. He held them out to Julie, who was tucking his sippy cup into her bag. He realized, staring at the bright blue and pink patterns, that Julie had begun bringing a diaper bag to work. When had that happened? “Did you change bags?” he asked, trying to sound casual. She smiled grimly. “Yeah, do you think it’s too obvious? Sorry, but with all of your…supplies, I needed something bigger. It is the perfect size! I’m sure no one will notice.” He wasn’t at all sure. But before he could say anything, Mrs. Davis and the boys entered the kitchen. Julie was tucking the diapers into the main compartment of the diaper bag as her mother, apparently referring to the bag, commented, “You were right, Julie. Perfect size.” Julie quickly cleared her throat. “Okay, guys, have a great day and be good for Grandma. I’ll be home–we’ll be home,” she corrected herself, smiling at him, “before supper.” “Okay, Mommy!” “Bye!” “Bye,” he called weakly. He grabbed his own bag, trying not to look Mrs. Davis in the eye. He felt like she was staring at him, though. Blushing, he picked up his coffee and fled outside. In the car, angry overtook his embarrassment. “What was that?? You told me your mom didn’t know!” In the passenger seat next to him, Julie sighed. “I know, I’m sorry,” she said. “She didn’t, but somehow she figured it out when you were over for dinner. She asked me about it the next day, so I told her you had some bladder issues.” He reddened further. “So, she thinks I’m incontinent?” “Yes, I thought that was the most reasonable explanation. She’s older. It made sense to her.” She reached over to pat his thigh. “Look, it was bound to happen at some point. We tell each other everything. She’s fine with it, of course. I told her it is a medical thing.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “But you yelled it out this morning so she could hear.” His eyes felt full. Julie was looking out the window as they pulled up to a light that had turned red. “Well, look, there’s no point dancing around it, is there? She’s at the apartment a lot. It’s a fact of life, and she’s part of the family. But I should have told you. I’m sorry about that.” He swallowed, blinking back the tears as the light changed. He’d gotten over some of his embarrassment of the diapers around Julie, but around her mother, too? Julie went on. “I mean, she’s going to notice when we disappear to change you. She’ll see your diapers if she goes into our room. And I don’t see what the point of pretending is. Actually,” she said. “I could imagine she might be helpful in a pinch.” His eyes jerked toward her involuntarily at this. “What? What do you mean, ‘helpful’?” he said, alarmed. She looked over at him, and, seeing his concern, tried to soothe him. “I don’t mean I’ll ask her to change you routinely, unless we can’t avoid it. It’s just nice to have the option of some help. You know, like if I’m at an appointment, or sick or something.” Even as he pulled into the office parking lot, he could feel himself start to sweat. This was not something he’d imagined ever discussing. Julie was already getting out of the car. “We can talk about it later, Sweetie. We’re a bit late now.” He sat for a minute, watching her leave the car. He snapped out of it as he saw a patient arriving and approaching the office as well. He had to move now. But, Jesus, Julie’s mom? He took a breath and shifted to focus on the day. Despite this distraction, the day went well. Once he clicked into work mode, he felt extra energetic today, and used that energy to make sure her day went well. He definitely didn’t want her to be exhausted by the end of the day. He had an investment in making her happy. His quality of life, in general, just like every other man in a relationship, depended on his partner being pleased with him. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t too tired that evening for sex. Two nights in a row would be a disaster! In fact, his mind was clearly preoccupied with her. His penis sprang to life each time she changed him during the day, and Julie noticed. She wondered a little about it, but mostly, it was amusing to her. They finished and headed home a little early for Monday. It was amazing how efficient they were when they were united in their work. As they arrived home, Mrs. Davis was just packing up. “How were the little monsters?” Julie called. The boys gave a yell and came running to hug their mommy. Mrs. Davis smiled tiredly. “Oh, they aren’t monsters. They are the best little grandsons in the world.” Julie raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t seen them at bedtime recently. Your grandsons can resemble wild animals at times.” But Mrs. Davis just shook her head. “Not my boys. I love taking care of them.” She picked up her purse and headed for the door. She smiled at him on her way. “And speaking of boys, it’s nice to see a big boy around the house these days.” Julie smiled fondly at him as well. “I’ll say. Never thought I’d want MORE boys around here, but he is definitely a good addition to the crew. Thanks again, Mom.” “Any time, my girl. Have a good night!” As the door closed behind her, his thoughts were drawn back to their conversation this morning. Julie wouldn’t make him let Mrs. Davis change him, would she? He couldn’t forget to discuss that sometime. While Julie made supper, he played with the boys. They liked running over and tackling him, and he loved their laughs. In bed that night, Julie untaped his diaper and started stroking him gently. He fought his excitement, which built much more rapidly than he had expected. Worried that he would come before they’d even completed the foreplay, he extricated himself from her ministrations to pleasure her. Afterward, to his relief, Julie did not fall asleep. As he returned up to lie next to her, she purred, “I bet you’re ready to go!” She reached down and found this to be true. Their lovemaking was quick, but passionate, and his orgasm was amazing. Julie noticed. Afterward, as she re-diapered him for the night, she said, smiling, “I’ve never heard you so loud. And long—I think yours was almost twice as long as mine.” He was still panting a little, and had to chuckle. “I guess you’re right. I…” he paused as he thought about what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to sound annoyed at her for falling asleep last night, but being frustrated had probably played into why things were so desperate tonight. “I think with the way things ended up last night might have had something to do with that. I was really horny all day.” She laughed and fell back into bed. “Oh, I noticed. Every time I had your diaper off, it felt like you were propositioning me.” She was quiet for a moment. Not a bad time to talk more about it. “Did you like feeling that way?” He let out a grunt. “Hardly. Are you kidding? I’m a guy. I think most of us like coming as often as we can.” Julie propped herself up on her elbow. “Yeah, but tonight seemed way better for you. That’s not worth sometimes waiting a little to have it build up?” He looked at her. She did not look sleepy. She seemed very interested in this discussion. He probably should have taken that as a warning, but he was feeling sleepy post-sex. “Nah—I mean, no, ma’am. I’ll take quantity over quality any day.” He closed his eyes. “Hmm. I’m not convinced,” Julie said thoughtfully. She poked him in the side with her finger to keep him awake. His eyes opened. “I noticed that you were really, really helpful today with the housework and the boys. Almost like you thought it could help your chances tonight.” He laughed again. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He looked up at her. “Did it?” She smiled. “You bet. If I’m not so tired, you definitely have a better chance to get lucky. So keep it up, mister helpful.” He nodded. “No problem. I certainly don’t mind.” His eyes closed again. This time Julie did not poke him awake. “Interesting…” she murmured, as she watched him breathing quietly. The next night, Andrew threw up after supper. Between caring for him and worrying about what could be wrong and if his brother would also get sick, Julie was preoccupied. So he wasn’t surprised when it wasn’t a sex night. He didn’t complain. He understood that would be insensitive. Plus, after their talk the night before, he knew Julie understood what he wanted. She would have accommodated him if she could, and he thought she probably would the next night. So he went to sleep unsatisfied, but not really frustrated. Andrew actually seemed fine the next day, though Julie told her mom about the incident and called her several times during the day over the phone to check on him. But he still seemed like himself by the time they got home that evening, and no one else got sick, so Julie relaxed a little. As she was distracted, he took over some of the chores around the house. He also gave her a little massage once they were in bed, hoping she was feeling good enough to be intimate before they fell asleep. She was. She turned over as he was rubbing her shoulders, and he found himself sitting on her with his hands over her breasts. This was a welcome development, and she undressed him. He again exploded into her fairly quickly but vigorously, and Julie noted again how much more attentive he’d been during the day and evening. This was not something she could ignore. As luck would have it, Julie got her period after supper the next night. He didn’t know until after he had helped all day and massaged her that evening. Julie sighed, and patted his chest. “Sorry, baby. We’ve got to take a little vacation for a few days. I’m out of commission.” He stared at her for a moment, not understanding. She stared back. “My period, sweetie. No sex. You have to keep it in your pants,” she said helpfully. Then she glanced down at his crotch. “Well, in your diaper.” He was startled. He hadn’t had a close relationship that could be disrupted by such things. “Oh, of course,” he said. He didn’t want to appear selfish. “So…you…do you feel okay and everything?” She laughed. “Of course. It’s just a little gross to think about sex.” She put her hand to his cheek. “Are you going to be okay with that?” He nodded bravely. “Oh, sure,” before he followed it up with, “So…how long do your periods last?” She shrugged. “Four or five days. It varies.” She watched his face carefully to see what he thought of that. He repeated her words, letting them sink in. “Four or five days…um, sure,” he said uncertainly. Since he was a young teenager, he had never gone without orgasm for that long. He honestly wasn’t sure if he could. And she had him locked away, so to speak. So he was already wondering what he’d need to do. “Mm-hm,” she said, cuddling closer. “But I was thinking,” she said, stroking his chest. He hardened under his diaper. Maybe she was going to help him get some relief! He loved Julie. Of course she wouldn’t make him wait that long. “That as nice as you are after you haven’t had sex for just one day, it might be interesting to see just how nice you are while you wait for me. I’m kind of excited to find out.” “Wait for you,” he murmured. She couldn’t be serious. That sounded terrible. But how could he say that without sounding like a jerk? Of course she wouldn’t have sex either. But he wasn’t sure it felt the same to women as it did to men. “Right,” she said, nodding. “Are you man enough to find out?” Not that you have any choice, she thought to herself. But she wanted him to be on board with this experiment. “Um,” he said, trying to think quickly. “It just seems like a long time.” That didn’t sound nice, did it? He cleared his throat and tried to look at her, though her head was on his shoulder and this was hard. “I mean, a man has impulses. It can be hard—I mean, difficult—to ignore those. I want to be honest with you. I don’t know if I can do that.” “Oh,” she purred. “I’m sure you can. And if you’re good, I can help in certain ways.” Her finger traced his nipples, tickling him. THAT sounded good. Though he wondered what exactly she meant, he wasn’t going to turn that down. “Then you’ve got a deal!” She nodded, smiling. She led her finger down his chest to his belly button. “I know you can be a good boy. You’ll make me so happy,” she whispered. His breathing quickened as he felt her finger drop further. It now ran along the edge of his diaper, playing with the little ruffle above the tapes. And then her voice, “Be a good boy. Sleep well.” And then the finger disappeared, and he felt Julie turn over in bed. “See you in the morning.” By now he could feel his penis throbbing under his diaper. She’d done it to him again. This time he was pretty sure it was intentional. She was good at that! But she seemed to be promising that tomorrow might be different. He groaned and rolled toward her, spooning her to make sure she felt his hardness against her. He couldn’t see her, but she was grinning widely as she went to sleep. This might be her best idea yet. Chapter 21 He worked hard making her happy all day. It helped that he seemed to have endless energy. It surprised him a bit, as he hadn’t thought he’d slept that well after her blatant bedtime teasing. But he felt like he wanted to go out of his way to make Julie happy, and her smiles through the day seemed to confirm that he was doing a good job. It was tough not asking for her to touch him more than usual as she changed his diaper through the day. But each time, after cleaning and powdering him, she would pat his penis fondly, and say to him, “You put that away for now. Maybe later tonight.” After their work was done, Julie came up behind him and cupped his diaper in the front. “Hmm,” she observed grimly. “You are very wet, aren’t you?” He looked down. He honestly hadn’t noticed it was any different than most days. “I guess. Did you want to change it?” Julie powered down her computer and shook her head. “Sadly, no. We’re out of diapers. You’ll have to wait until you get home. Think you can wait?” He collected his things. “I guess so. I mean, I don’t have much choice, right?” She put her coat on and patted his cheek fondly. “No, silly, I mean, does your bladder feel full? I don’t know if that diaper will survive another flooding.” He paused. “Oh. Well, I mean, I could go, but I’m sure I can hold it. It’s a short trip.” He donned his coat and picked up his laptop bag. She regarded him for a moment, pondering. “Yes, but I think we should take an extra precaution, just in case.” She found a blue disposable waterproof pad and brought it along to the car, handing it to him when they got there. “Put this on your seat, please.” He stared at it. “Seriously? I’m sure I don’t need that,” he said dismissively. “Maybe,” she admitted, climbing in. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d put it down anyway.” He shook his head. Julie had a hard time not mothering him. But it wasn’t worth fighting about. Mrs. Davis and the boys were nowhere to be seen, but they could hear Andrew’s little voice explaining something earnestly from the bedroom area. As he and Julie put their things away, The boys and Mrs. Davis, chattering, entered the kitchen. “Hi, guys, we’re all dry and clean,” she said, smiling. Julie smiled back, then glanced at him. “Must be nice. We will be soon, I’m sure.” Then she seemed to notice his surprised expression. Did Julie just tell her mom that his diaper was wet?? To his horror, Mrs. Davis reached over and patted his diapered rear end, feeling the weight of his wet padding. “Wow. Well, I’m still in changing mode if you need a hand,” she said to Julie. He froze. Mrs. Davis wasn’t speaking to him, wasn’t looking at him. Only at Julie. It was…like he was a toddler! Julie paused and appeared to be considering. To his relief, however, she shook her head. “No, Mom, that’s okay.” She handed her mother her purse and coat. “I appreciate the offer, you’ve had a full day. I can take care of it. I’m sure you’re ready to get home.” Her mother nodded. “Of course. Just wanted to make sure you knew I don’t mind.” Julie smiled. “I know, and I’m grateful for the offer. But we’re not quite ready for that yet. Maybe down the road.” “Oh, of course. But it would not be any trouble. I’ve been changing diapers for a long time.” “Yes, you are a pro. Thanks again, Mom. Have a wonderful night.” He breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind Mrs. Davis. Julie had saved him, though she hadn’t exactly shut down the idea completely. “Julie, I’m REALLY not comfortable with your mom, you know…” he told her at supper. She was cutting little chunks of chicken for the boys, and nodded. “I know. Don’t worry. I told you–only if we have to.” He took a breath. “But–look, I know you like to be the one to change me.” Julie looked up with a bit of a warning expression, as if she didn’t want to talk about that topic. “And–and–I get that you are better at it than I would be. Although, well, we’ve never tried, so how would we know?” he said quickly, then rushed on. This wasn’t his main point and he didn’t want to get bogged down. “But that’s fine. I obviously love it when you change me and I know you’re in charge of that.” He took another breath. Andrew was feeding himself the chicken chunks. Thomas had asked to be excused and was playing with a truck next to the table. “But in an emergency, it seems like I could handle my own diapers, right? Why would you ever want your mother to help? Because I don’t want her to help!” Julie seemed a little affronted. “What’s wrong with my mother? Did something happen between you two?” He sighed. “No, of course not. It’s just that it would be so embarrassing to have someone else, you know, see me and touch me that way.” He couldn’t believe he had to explain this. Andrew was done, and Julie got up to wash his face. He’d managed to get mashed potatoes on both cheeks and his chin. “I know, but I’m sure she’d be better at it than you would. If she is here, and she could do it better, why wouldn’t we have her do it?” She efficiently wiped the food off Andrew’s face, which he tolerated. Then she helped him down from his booster seat. He ran into the living room, and Thomas took the truck and followed. “I feel like this goes back to you being unnecessarily embarrassed about basic bodily functions.” He sputtered, “But–listen, I’m an adult, and–” Julie interrupted, her voice hardening perceptibly. “…Who wears diapers and needs some help with them. My mother changed my diapers when I needed it. She can change yours, too.” As his cheeks reddened, imagining the humiliation, Julie softened and, standing above him, touched his cheek. “Listen, I’ve already told you that I won’t ask her to change you unless it is really necessary. But if it does, you will agree and you won’t give her any trouble.” She brought his chin up so they were looking into each other’s eyes. “Tell me you understand me.” He swallowed hard, trying to think of an argument that would sway her. But he could see she had made up her mind, and he no longer had that chance. “Sweetie, do you trust me?” He sighed. “Yes, ma’am.” “Then tell me you accept the fact that there could come a time when my mom could have to change your diaper.” He paused. But what could he say? He was also, in the back of his mind, thinking that he wanted her in a good mood for later. Julie had suggested they could have some play time later, and although he knew he wouldn’t come, he was curious what she had up her sleeve. “Yes, ma’am, okay.” Julie smiled. “That’s my good boy. Time to clean up dinner, if you wouldn’t mind.” She headed into the living room to supervise her sons. He cleared the table thoughtfully, coming to terms with the apparent diaper-changing hierarchy in the home. Julie really felt like he shouldn’t ever change his own diaper. He didn’t understand why, and wasn’t even allowed to help make the decision. It left him feeling powerless and small. But he had learned to trust Julie, and he wondered whether he could trust her enough here, too. At bedtime tonight she changed him for the last time up near the head of the bed, which was unusual. She patted his side of the bed, and he laid down where she indicated. She changed and cleaned him, then asked, “Up for a little fun?” She was being funny, he realized. He was hard as a nail the moment she untaped the diaper. “Yes, ma’am!” he cheerfully replied. “I love your manners, mister,” she cooed as she opened the closet and pulled out a duffle bag he had not ever noticed before. “They will get you far in this life. Or at least in this bed.” She pulled out some scarves. His brow wrinkled. Scarves? He was woefully uninformed, Julie saw, and it made her smile at him. “Trust me?” she said. “…Yes?” he said back, looking at the scarves with confusion. Julie tied his hands to her headboard. He smiled once he saw what she was doing. This could be very fun, he thought. She did not tie his feet, and as soon as his hands were immobilized, she unsnapped his onesie and undiapered him. “Time for some fun, baby,” she said, as she positioned herself down near his waist. He was fully erect, his penis bobbing in the air expectantly. Julie addressed it next. “Sorry I’ve been so distant, my little friend.” Her fingers lightly touched it and he flinched, sending it away from them. This amused her, so she repeated the game several times. His breathing was already becoming heavy, she noted with amusement. She would have to be very careful. She tickled his balls, and the bare skin around his member. He was extremely sensitive, making her wonder what several days of abstaining would do to him. She smiled. This was going to be a fun week. When his breathing had evened, she extended her tongue and tickled him all over again. When he seemed to be getting close, she backed off again. Eventually, she was able to use her full hand, pushing him closer and closer to the edge, then slowing down. He was sweating, and his arms started to pull hard on the scarves. She was driving him crazy. No one had ever treated him like this before. It was so hot. He had never imagined himself at the mercy of a woman who was in control and yet who delayed his orgasm so expertly. How did Julie do it? Of course, Julie didn’t know his body that well at this point, so she couldn’t be sure. She erred on the side of caution, backing down sooner than she otherwise might, knowing she would have lots of chances to refine her technique in the future. After twenty-five minutes of playing with him, she took him in her mouth and delicately teased him orally, carefully watching his face, listening to his breathing, and feeling his muscle tone. Eventually she came up to his face. “Enjoying yourself?” she purred. Nearly exhausted, he said, “More than you can imagine.” She laughed. “I’m so happy. Remember you said that in about two minutes.” She jumped up and left the room. He was baffled. Where had she gone? He felt a little silly tied up all by himself. But she returned a moment later carrying a towel. She approached him and laid the towel over him. He smiled. What was next?! The towel seemed like a reasonable precaution if she didn’t want mess all over her bed. He thought that the night’s activities might be ending soon. And he was right, though not in the way he’d hoped. Out came a bag of frozen peas, which went on top of the towel. He looked up at her, again questioning her. She explained, “I’ll never get you back in that diaper without some help. But I thought the peas were cruel without a towel.” She left the room again, entering her bathroom. The toilet flushed and then she returned. Julie checked under the towel. He had softened considerably. She grabbed a diaper and expertly tucked him away for the night, returning the vegetables to the freezer and tossing the towel in the laundry. When she joined him in bed, she reached for the scarves. His face was full of confusion. “But…” She looked at him. He couldn’t finish his sentence. He was heartbroken, but didn’t want to complain. Maybe there was still a chance he could come? It didn’t look good, but… Julie said, “Oh, sweetie, you were never going to come tonight. It’s too soon. But I wanted you to have some fun. And you did, right?” She tucked the scarves into the duffel bag and took it to the closet. He was speechless. “Kind of…” he trailed off. When she turned to face him, her eyebrows raised, he stammered, “Well, yes. It was amazing. I just thought…” She closed the closet door and came back and sat next to him on the bed. “Baby, we’re going to try something this week. You are a wonderful man, but I’ve noticed that, like most men, you are limited by your hormones.” He stared down at her hands. A few moments ago, those hands were doing wonderfully sensuous things to him. He just wanted to get back to that moment! She reached up to his chin, pulling his eyes up to meet hers. He was preoccupied but she wanted him following along with her now. “It turns out,” she explained, “that when you don’t have sex, you become even more considerate than usual. And helpful. Were you aware of that?” Seriously? He was surprised to hear this. “I try to be…that way…all the time. I didn’t realize you were unhappy—“ She cut him off, placing her finger on his lips. “Shhh. No, no, I didn’t mean you weren’t a good partner every day. You are. But something interesting happens when you haven’t had sex. You seem much more connected to me emotionally. I wasn’t sure at first if I was imagining it, but it is clearly true. And if you weren’t even aware of it, then that tells me that this…phenomenon… is not just something you are trying to do when you’re desperate.” She sat back. “Actually, when I look back to other relationships, it might have been true then as well. So maybe it’s all men.” She shook her head a little. “Honestly, I wish I’d noticed this earlier in life. Could’ve been verrrrrry helpful.” Julie turned back to him. “But the point is, I need you to explore this with me.” He frowned. “What do you mean? Explore what? It sort of sounds like you don’t want to have sex with me.” She shook her head and laughed. “No, that’s not right. I love having sex with you. But there might be a balance that would be good for us. And I’d like to see what that looks like.” “A balance? Between what?” She pursed her lips and stared at him hard. “Between you coming every night and you never coming at all. If you come every day, you are a little happy really often, but we might not get as much out of our relationship as we could. I would have to work harder around here, and might resent you not contributing as much.” He looked concerned, then smiled a little. “Well, part of that sounded pretty good…what if I just tried harder around the apartment?” Julie patted him on the cheek, giving him a wry smile. “I bet that sounds good to you. But not as good as it could be. If you come only some of the time, your pleasure will be greater when you do come—right?—and in the meantime life will be better for me. And when you don’t come, maybe we can have fun like we did tonight.” He sat there, pondering her words. She gave him a moment to think about this. “Now, I care for you a lot, and I want you to enjoy sex as much as I do. But I also want what’s best for us together, and I think we owe it to ourselves to see if that could work. So this week, while I’m out of action, you’re going to be out of action as well.” He looked at her, alarmed. “Like, all week? I don’t–” Julie laughed, then mocked him playfully. “Yes, all week. I mean, I have to wait, right? Are you telling me you aren’t as tough as a girl?” He swallowed. “Well, I’ve never—I mean, I think it’s harder for me than for you. I’m not used to that at all.” She nodded. “Oh, I’m sure,” she said, with what might have been mock seriousness. “But I’ll make it fun for you. I mean, since it’s better for me if you wait, I’m willing to help you hold out.” “Oh, man. I don’t know if that helped me wait or not. I can’t think about anything but you right now.” Julie giggled and snuggled next to him. “Perfect. I want you thinking of me. And I don’t want you neglected, just a little…frustrated.” He smiled slightly, but…this seemed like asking a lot. “Wouldn’t just be easier—I mean, for you—if I…took matters into my own hands this week, and we could try skipping a day or two next week?” Julie sat straight up. “No, no. NO. Easier for YOU maybe, but not for me. It turns out that I love seeing you when you are a little desperate, and I do NOT want you playing with your little thing.” She again made him look her in the eyes. “Please tell me you understand. No jerking off. This is very important to me.” He looked down. It was very clear what Julie wanted. And he had learned that what she wanted, she always got. If there were more nights like this, it could be fun. He might even get to see what else was in that duffel bag. He looked into her eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I understand.” She beamed. “That’s my good boy. You’ll see that good things come to those who wait,” she said suggestively, and patted the front of his diaper. She felt him twitch inside, and she liked it. “Now let’s get some sleep.” Chapter 22 That week was difficult. From that night onward, he couldn’t think of anything except Julie. Having sex with Julie, have Julie play with him some more, doing all sorts of things to her. But he was taped up tightly inside of his diaper, and he couldn’t touch himself. He wasn’t really ever out of her presence for more than a few moments. She seemed to be around him almost all the time. Even when he showered, she was in the bathroom just on the other side of the frosted glass of the shower. He couldn’t jerk off if he wanted to. And he wanted to. Kind of. But it was also undeniably fun to go through the week with Julie teasing and taunting him. During the day she would pat his diaper and make double entendres that her sons could not possibly catch. And at bedtime, the scarves came out. She didn’t use other toys, but she did use some kind of slippery liquid, and drive him nearly crazy. She would push him to the brink, then back off, then repeat. He would be sweating within minutes, but could not do anything about it. He had no idea how she knew how to get him that close. He got so crazy that he tried to thrust into her hand. She would laugh and move her hand just out of the way. She seemed heartless, except that it obviously took a lot of time and effort for her. And it wasn’t like she was getting any relief either. He tried to remember that. Every day, he had difficulty thinking of anything other than Julie and her torture sessions. He hated them, but wanted them at the same time. He had nothing he could do with his energy. It was such a weird feeling to be so wound up without the ability to do anything about it. Every comment, every look was charged with sexual tension. Julie could see it in his eyes, and was smiling at him constantly, which, in turn, drove him even crazier. He tried to keep himself busy. When he could, he would clean their apartment. When she would let him, he would rub her feet or shoulders. Her touch became electric to him, somehow, and this was a form of magic he could not understand. Was it really hormonal? Maybe she knew things about the human body that he, as a doctor, did not. Regardless, he longed to have her near, maybe more than usual. He was conflicted about whether he thought this experiment was something he wanted to continue. At times he felt like he was flying, but he longed almost constantly to come. Or for her to touch him. Both? He wasn’t even sure anymore—his feelings and wants and needs were muddled together into a complex knot of energy. On Saturday night, she changed his diaper, then tied him to the bed as before. She untaped and pulled down his diaper. Then she lightly stroked him until he was hard and starting to breathe faster. But then she disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the shower start. Seriously? NOW she showered, while he couldn’t move? He passed the time thinking of how good things were going to be once her period was finished. He imagined taking her over the bed, or in the kitchen, or on the sofa. Not that any of that would likely happen, as Julie had definite preferences and usually liked to be in control. But he could still imagine what it would be like to be the one who decided when and how they had sex. But when she was in control, that was incredibly sexy too, wasn’t it? He pictured her smile when she signaled it was time to fool around. He felt her hands on his diaper. Now, the simple act of untaping his diaper made him hard. He had never been on the bottom during sex before he met Julie, and since then he had never been on top. That was odd, he supposed, but he had grown to love looking up at her, her face lost in pleasure, her breasts dangling freely. The way she ground her pelvis against his, used him for her pleasure. That was so hot. If only he could touch himself right now! Suddenly the door to her bathroom opened, and Julie emerged, wearing lingerie he had not seen before. A soft pink babydoll nightie hung from her slim body, and her face showed that she knew the effect it would have on him. She glanced down at his penis, still hard, and saw it twitch hungrily. She smiled, retrieved something from the duffel bag and sat next to him on the bed. He strained at the scarves, trying to touch her with any part of his body. Suddenly she produced a blindfold and fastened it around his eyes, and all light disappeared. He immediately became aware of how she smelled, clean with soap, and a familiar, reassuring scent that made him feel close to her. He realized a moment later that he was smelling baby powder, which smelled a little different on her. He didn’t stop to think that by now, after so many weeks of use while she changed him, that it was a smell that excited him. She stroked his cheek, then ran her fingertips along his ears, tickling him deliberately. Tied and blind, he was forced to wait to see what was next. His skin felt electric, as every part of him wanted her touch. She drew her fingers down his neck, then trailed them across his chest to his nipples, which she was happy to see were hard. His sharp intake of air told her they were also sensitive. The week of chastity had apparently charged his body with an insane amount of energy. This was better than she had hoped for. Whether or not he wanted to repeat this experiment, she thought, didn’t really matter. She would now be controlling his orgasm frequency. But she thought she could probably convince him it was a good idea over the next few minutes. She pinched his nipples gently, eliciting gasps. She leaned down and touched one with her tongue. His body became rigid. She played it back and forth and he didn’t move a muscle. She nibbled it a little and she felt him squirm, then buck a bit as she started to suck. He had no idea his nipples could feel like that. It was mostly like tickling, and they were so sensitive. He couldn’t move out of the way, and had to wait for her to tire of it. Finally she relented, leaving him panting. His erection had softened, but stiffened again as he felt her hands play down his abdomen. His skin tightened and relaxed under her touch. As her soft fingers approached his waist, his body became more and more tense. Without realizing it, his breathing had quickened. She noticed, however. She also noticed the clear liquid forming at the tip of his hard penis. She smiled. Bending over, so her mouth was next to his ear, she whispered, “Why are you so sensitive, my love? I’ve never seen you like this.” Her fingers danced around his lower abdomen. Nearly panting now, he croaked, “It’s been so long.” He was waiting for her hand to move closer to his throbbing penis. But instead it stroked upward again, right to his belly button. He gasped. “Oh, please, Julie!” She laughed. “Oh, begging? Wow. I have got you worked up. This is special.” As a reward, she moved her hand closer to him, brushing her fingers over the tip of his penis. He nearly choked. She took it in her hand, shifting it upward, and gave him several soft pets on the underside. And it was too much. Too much time, too much anticipation, too much teasing over the week. She watched as ejaculate shot up into the air and back down again onto his stomach, surprised more than anything that so little direct contact could set this off. She wasn’t even touching him at this point. He was moaning and bucking his hips involuntarily into the air. As his orgasm passed, he whimpered quietly. Julie watched, fascinated, then started laughing once she realized what had happened. She had heard of ruined orgasms, but hadn’t ever seen one. She certainly hadn’t ever caused one. What did she hear about them? That they didn’t feel as good, but that they also didn’t cause a refractory period. It was sort of like a practice orgasm, right? She would find out. She was hungry tonight and didn’t want to be done! “I’m so sorry,” he gasped, nearly in tears. “I couldn’t control it! I…I…” “Shh, baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, using a tissue to wipe up what she could off his belly and nearby sheets. He’d be doing some laundry tomorrow, apparently. “We’re not stopping there. I think you’ve got more in you.” His breathing slowed. She got down close to his waist and breathed on his slightly softened manhood. She licked it a bit. She tickled it. It didn’t take long to stand right back up, gently bobbing with his heart beat. She smiled and climbed onto his chest, facing his head, and scooted closer to his blindfolded face. Time for her to reap the first carnal profits from the week’s efforts. He had been panicked when he’d come just now. He knew he was done for a while, and couldn’t believe the week had ended with such an embarrassing display. It was a different kind of accident than he usually had, and, like his wet accidents, had been watched by Julie. He was relieved when she was able to conjure another erection from him so quickly. Maybe that was because he’d been so deprived all week? He had no frame of reference to understand the week’s events. But he was humiliated by his premature discharge, and when Julie presented herself to his mouth, he was eager to prove himself to her. She could tell. And she was ready. He licked his way to 3 consecutive orgasms in short order. Between them, Julie reached a hand back to keep him primed, but it wasn’t difficult. Neither of them had ever been so excited and in sync. Julie decided it was time for the grand finale, and lowered herself down onto him teasingly. This second time, he was able to last a satisfyingly long time, and they both came together, sweaty and exhausted. Later, once he had been untied and rediapered, they snuggled together in bed. “Well?” Julie asked him. “…How was that?” He exhaled heavily. “Whew. It’s never been like that.” She smiled. “I know. Here’s a hint for the future: don’t ever doubt me.” He laughed. “I promise. I’ve learned that.” After a moment he said, “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You seem to get your way most of the time, don’t you?” Julie chuckled. “Well, I would hope so.” She traced circles on his chest. “Now that it is over, what do you think about the results of the experiment?” He thought a bit. “Hmm. Well, this week was tough, but…good in a way. I felt frustrated, but kind of alive too.” He grunted and snorted. “Ah, it’s hard to explain.” She turned her head a little and looked at his profile in the darkness. “You were amazing this week. I want that man all the time. That is my dream!” He considered. “I can try. Might be kind of hard to sustain that.” She snorted. “Don’t worry, honey. I think I can help a little.” Intrigued, he waited for her to elaborate. When she didn’t immediately, he had to ask, “What’s that supposed to mean? How can you help? Wait—” But she was already propping herself up on her elbow to answer him, one hand now playing with his hair. “It seems like you thrive on fewer orgasms, babe. There will be a little rationing program from here on out.” Now he sat up sharply. “Now, wait. This was a fun game this week, but—” She looked at him in the murky moonlight shining in through their window. “But, what? This was the best sex ever. And it followed a week of relationship bliss for me. Sorry, not giving that up.” She laid back down. “But—” “That would be a really good place for you to leave this discussion,” Julie advised him. “I’ve had a lovely night, and I don’t want to ruin it with an argument.” She turned over. “You think about it tonight. If you come up with any good arguments why you should deprive me of such a loving partner and productive roommate, let me know tomorrow. For now, sleep! Love you.” She closed her eyes, and he was left to consider her words. The next day around the apartment, he was still considering. He was torn. He had felt truly elated toward the end of the week, and last night had been spectacular. But he was still a young man. Sex was his stress relief and had always been his decision. This relationship had changed so much for him—was he ready to give up control of his sex life as well? But there was only so far that masturbation could take him. He’d been dealing with the stress of a single man’s life. It was different now. He had someone. Someone who loved him and cared for him in ways he still couldn’t wrap his mind around. He felt nurtured and complete. He hadn’t known he’d been missing that. He loved it. He’d always assumed he’d have to make some compromises in a relationship. But he’d thought that frequent sex had been part of the perks of the deal. Did it make sense, as Julie had said, to sacrifice quantity for quality? He considered. Any orgasm was pretty fantastic, after all. But he’d never had a night like last night…. Today he felt different. He felt irritable. That high was gone. Because he’d had sex last night? He didn’t know. Was it worth testing out again? Maybe just with Julie’s next period. He was wiping the counter after lunch, deep in thought, when he became aware of Julie’s voice. But he’d missed what she’d said. “What?” he asked distractedly. She regarded him grimly. “Hmmm. This is how you act after you get sex. Not even aware of me, not listening. Is THAT really the argument you want to make for yourself?” He hurried to apologize. “I was just thinking about last week,” he explained. She raised an eyebrow. “And? What’s your best case for free-range orgasms?” His face fell. “I don’t know. I liked how I felt during the week. I just don’t know if I can do it all the time.” She came close. “Sweetie, you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. And we’ll have plenty of sex. You just won’t have as many orgasms.” Her hand caressed his face. He was suddenly aware that her touch was not quite as electric as it had been only yesterday. What the fuck?! “Tell you what,” she was saying, studying him closely. “We both need to be on board with this for it to work. I mean, I could just decide, of course, but I want you to be supportive, too. “Let’s try it for a month. Just let me be in charge of when you get to come. I’m not going to be mean. I think you know that. Right?” He tried to meet her gaze. Damn, it was hard for him to have an adult conversation with a fully dressed woman when he was wearing a diaper and a onesie. “I know. I’m just…nervous.” She nodded, trying to divine his thoughts. “Scary to give up control, isn’t it?” “Yes,” he confessed. “The thing is, I think you might be right about this. But I like being able to have a say in this.” Julie took his hand and said to him, “Sweetheart, you are a spectacular doctor and a good man. But in our relationship, there are a few things that I have taken ownership of. And I haven’t been wrong yet, correct?” He knew he couldn’t hesitate here, even if he still had reservations about never being allowed to use the potty. “No, Ma’am,” he agreed. “Right,” she said. “This is another of those things. Remember that I get jurisdiction of—” and here she indicated his thighs—”about here”—and then moved her hand up to his waist—“to here, right?” She grinned at him. “That’s all I get. I take care of your diapers and your orgasms. You get everything else.” He nodded slowly. It didn’t sound significant, but…it was, wasn’t it? “Wait,” he said, drawing her into an embrace. “Aren’t we partners? What part of you do I get to control?” Julie smiled at him playfully. He thought he had her there. But she wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t have an answer to that question. “You control my heart, doctor. That’s the most important organ in the human body, isn’t it?” He sighed. It was hopeless. How was it that he had gone to medical school but couldn’t win a single argument with his nurse? Maybe he should have gone to law school. “So let’s try it for a month, okay, babe?” Julie chirped cheerfully. “I’ll make it worth your while…” Her hand tickled his belly, tracing the upper border of his diaper. “Yes, Ma’am.” Julie paused. “Speaking of trusting me, I’ve…got some…news. Tomorrow morning I’m covering a shift at the nursing home for my friend Hannah. She’s going away this weekend. We’d set this up months ago, before you lived here, and before–” she indicated his diapers–”all this.” He nodded. He knew she had worked at the home before his office. He’d never met Hannah, though. Julie was looking at him, like he was supposed to be understanding something important. “It’s a shift that starts at 6 tomorrow morning, until 2:30 in the afternoon. It’s a Saturday. You won’t be up yet.” His eyes widened. His morning routine. First thing in the morning–he’d have a very wet diaper, and then…he’d have a messy diaper. “Oh…” She nodded grimly. “I tried to get out of it, but I can’t find anyone else to cover. I have to do it. So…I asked my mom to come over to help out with the boys…and everything.” He paled. “Julie, I can’t–” She clasped his face in between her warm palms. “Of course you can, baby. My mom knows all about you and your schedule, and she’ll be expecting to change a dirty diaper. It’s fine. She’ll be professional and efficient, just like I was at the beginning. After you get that out of the way, you’ll be old friends, I’m sure,” she said, smiling at him. “This is just like everything else. You’ll need to trust me. There is no need to be overly embarrassed about your poops. Get over it.” She turned to leave the room, then turned back. He was still frozen to the spot, unable to move. “And by the way, this is obviously a fairly big favor she is doing us both, so I expect you to be as polite and helpful to her as you are for me. Be a VERY good boy tomorrow. I don’t want to get a bad report from her about your behavior.” He stood there for several minutes after she left the room. His girlfriend had arranged for her mother to change his messy diaper tomorrow–had essentially decided he needed a babysitter, that he couldn’t be trusted to take care of the boys, or himself, for a few hours on a weekend. He had been fully demoted to being a toddler in Julie’s house, without any autonomy or decision-making ability. He didn’t know whether to be more embarrassed or offended by the situation. They went to a park during the afternoon, then he had some clinical work to do online. By bedtime, he hadn’t figured out how to change his fate the next day. Not surprisingly, Julie was not in the mood for sex. She’d hinted as much earlier when she’d noticed his inattentiveness. After changing him, she was instead buzzing around the bedroom picking out the things she needed to wear in the morning. He watched her nervously from the bed, freshly taped into a clean, thick nighttime diaper. “What if we use the morning as an audition for me to show you how self-sufficient I can be? I’m sure I can change myself. And it’s low stakes. I’m not going anywhere during the day, so if I leak, big deal–” Julie had taken her clothes into her bathroom so she could get dressed in the morning without bothering him. “I think that if we decide to try that, I want to be home for it. Tomorrow is not the day for experiments.” She turned out the bathroom light and climbed into bed with him. “But if–” “Baby, that’s enough. I told you, Mom knows all about your diapers, and is expecting to change you after breakfast.” He reddened all over again, thinking about how that conversation must have gone. “But–” “I know you are stressed about it, baby, but she has changed poopy diapers before. It’s already been decided. Please remember your manners, okay?” She waited for him to answer. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “But Julie, I–” “Please no more. I need you to be a big helper tomorrow. Andrew and Thomas can be a handful at times, and it would be nice if you are around to lend a hand. I need to get some rest now. I do love you!” she yawned, and turned over before he could respond. He wasn’t surprised that she had shut him down. This was the kind of discussion that wasn’t really a discussion. But he was dreading the morning. Sleep did not come easily to him. He tossed and turned for more than an hour, imagining having to go to Mrs. Davis with a loaded diaper and ask her to change him. He imagined her face as she smelled his mess. He imagined their new relationship as babysitter and toddler. Suddenly he thought of an idea. If he could wake up super early and have his breakfast and coffee before Julie had left, maybe she could change him. What time would that be? She had to be at the home by six, so 4:30 should do it, right? That was early, but it reminded him of residency days. He could do it, and catch up on his sleep tomorrow night. He set his alarm, an old digital clock on his side of the bed. He relaxed a bit, happy that he had come up with the workaround he needed, and was finally able to fall asleep. Chapter 23 He awoke to a bright bedroom and the sounds of dishes and happy boys in the kitchen. He was disoriented. Drawn by the smell of coffee, he groggily got up and padded into the kitchen wearing nothing but his diaper and onesie. He froze in the doorway when he saw Mrs. Davis sitting at the table with Andrew and Thomas. She looked up and saw him, a surprised hint of a smile on her face. Oh, shit, he thought. It was Sunday, and Mrs. Davis was here babysitting. But– What had happened? Why hadn’t his alarm awakened him? Rather than engage, he quickly backed away and entered the bedroom. He went to the alarm, which was switched to the “off” position. Had he imagined turning it on? Or had Julie turned it off? Well, crap, this was a nightmare. He should–maybe he– He heard Julie’s voice in his head. “I don’t want a bad report…” He knew he didn’t have a choice, and his heart sank. He wanted to make Julie happy, even if it was embarrassing for him. He swallowed hard, a feeling of dread settle over him. But maybe he could wear pants over his diaper for Mrs. Davis? She probably didn’t know about that little rule, right? He tried and failed to get his jeans over his swollen nighttime diaper, so he went with some sweatpants. He didn’t like the way they bulged, but it was better than just the onesie. He waddled out again to the kitchen. Mrs. Davis and the boys were still sitting at the table, Thomas explaining to his grandmother the difference between two little action figures he had with him. Mrs. Davis glanced over at him as he entered, but to his relief, didn’t say anything about his sweats. He noticed a steaming cup of coffee at the empty chair, and he sat down there. Thomas paused to take a breath, and Mrs. Davis took the opportunity to ask how many pancakes he’d like. Pancakes! This was a treat. “Um, three, please?” he asked. And then Thomas had to show him his little figures and tell him about the story they had been playing before breakfast. Andrew tried hard to add what he thought were important elements to the story as well. It was charming, and he found it hard to be anxious or embarrassed during the meal. Mrs. Davis helped them down from the table when they were finished, and they scampered off to continue playing in the living room. “Julie was never quite so into those action figures when she was little. She played and had quite the imagination though.” Mrs. Davis smiled at the thought. He was taken back to his own childhood and realized that he did have little guys he played with. “Maybe it’s a boy thing? I had little superheroes and dinosaurs that were part of my adventures.” Mrs. Davis was gazing at him, a pensive smile on her face. “I bet you were an adorable little boy. Kids grow up too fast, don’t they?” He mumbled his agreement. He hadn’t been a parent, but he knew this was something all parents said. Mrs. Davis stood up and cleared the dishes. “I’m so glad you are part of Julie’s life. She seems so happy now.” She brought him another cup of coffee, which he accepted. “She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said honestly. “Even–” He’d been about to say, “Even with the diapers,” but then realized that would be way too awkward. He tried to complete a reasonable sentence. “Even though stepping into this family was kind of unexpected. Those boys scared me at first. Now I can’t imagine life without them,” he told her. She sat back down. “That must be a tough thing to do, jumping into their lives like that. But they clearly love you. To them, you are a part of this family,” she said, smiling. “And thank goodness. They need someone male around here. I’ve seen you down on the floor, wrestling with them. They just adore it.” He smiled at the thought. They were like little bear cubs sometimes, crawling on him. He noticed they did treat him differently than they treated Julie. He felt like he was contributing something, and it was nice. “Well,” she said. “I definitely don’t mean to pressure you, so don’t take this that way, but you fit well into this family. We’d be happy to have you more permanently, if it works out for you and Julie.” He swallowed. He’d thought about that, of course. How could he not? Julie was the best person he’d ever met. She nurtured everyone she met, and would make a solid partner. He was deeply in love with her. But…he’d always thought the man was supposed to be in charge. He’d never felt entirely comfortable with that, and had instinctively imagined an equal partnership in a relationship. But his relationship with Julie was not either of those things. She was definitely in charge, and as educated as his was, it still embarrassed him a little. She said she claimed ownership over only a few things, and they did discuss and debate things together. She listened to him. His opinion mattered. But he harbored no doubts about what would happen if there was a stalemate and a decision needed to be made. At work, he was the boss. And he made a thousand decisions every day that affected big parts of people’s health. So in some ways it was a relief to cede decision-making control to Julie when they left work. He thought he could live with that decision permanently, especially as his trust in her and love for her grew. But it was still a leap. He wasn’t sure if he was ready. But what else did he need to know? She loved him, and was willing to take care of even the most intimate (and disgusting!) parts of him. She was weird in some ways, but wasn’t everyone? But would he always have to wear diapers? It seemed– All of a sudden he became aware of Mrs. Davis studying him. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts. “Ahem. That is very kind, Mrs. Davis. You have raised a wonderful daughter. She is…kind, and generous, and caring.” Mrs. Davis smiled. “Yes, Julie is a natural nurse, isn’t she? She has always known what she wants, and usually does a good job going after it. I’ve tried to teach her some secrets about that, of course. Tried to help her make good decisions. She is a little stubborn, but it is usually about the right things. There was only one time she got lost.” “Her ex-husband? She’s mentioned something about that, but we haven’t talked in much detail.” Mrs. Davis got up from the table. “Well, it isn’t my story to tell, of course. You could ask her. We could see potential trouble, but she wanted to believe. In the end it worked out okay, but it was hard. I think it changed her, of course. It had to.” She rinsed plates in the sink, then turned around and apparently caught sight of the boys in the other room. “And, of course we got some wonderful gifts from that terrible relationship. And speaking of them, would you mind keeping an eye on them for a few minutes while I clean up?” He was done with breakfast and coffee. “Yes, ma’am. Happy to help.” He stood up and became more self-conscious again about his soaking wet diaper. It was hard to walk naturally in it when it was this wet. If Mrs. Davis noticed, she didn’t say anything. He felt grateful for that. He waddled out to the living room. The boys were deeply engrossed in a story with their little action figures, the coffee table featuring prominently in one of them becoming lost. At his appearance, they rushed to update him on the situation. He expressed appropriate concern to them so they’d keep playing. At the same time he felt that familiar pressure start to build in his lower abdomen. For a few moments during breakfast, he had wondered if he could avoid having Mrs. Davis change a messy diaper, but that wasn’t going to happen. He thought about asking her if she would mind letting him use the potty. Maybe she wouldn’t want to change him and could see the advantage in that? But what if she told Julie? He thought back to trying to sleep with his bottom burning. Even avoiding the embarrassment of having Mrs. Davis change a messy diaper, of her knowing he pooped in his diaper, wasn’t worth that chance. As if reading his mind, she appeared in the doorway. “Can you give me a few more minutes to get some things ready for you boys? Then we can take care of changing some nighttime diapers.” “Yes, ma’am, it’s no problem,” he responded agreeably, but noticed the wording. “You boys.” While they had had an adult conversation, his diaper also meant he belonged to the “babysat” contingent, not the “babysitting” side. A cramp hit. It was time. And within a few moments, he had pushed out a load into his diaper. At least she wasn’t here to witness that. Maybe she had thoughtfully left him alone to give him a little dignity? He could smell himself now, but the little guys were typically oblivious. They’d found the lost character, but now a book-shaped monster was threatening them. Mrs. Davis re-entered the room, surveying the males with hands on her hips. She looked first to the little ones, who were so deeply engrossed they didn’t notice her. Her eyes turned to him, and cheerfully said, “I think they’ll be okay for a few minutes. Your diaper is hanging pretty low. How about if we take care of you first?” He swallowed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, thank you.” She smiled. “I love your manners,” she said, as he passed her on the way to the bedroom. He entered the bedroom and saw the changing pad laid out on the bed, and wipes, powder, and a new diaper awaiting him as well. He paused, suddenly acutely embarrassed about what was to happen. But Mrs. Davis swept into the room behind him. “Whew. It smells like you need a change, too,” she said, smiling. “Why don’t you get those pants off and lie down on the bed? That’s how Julie does it, right?” “Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, as he took off his sweats, centered himself on the pad, and laid back. “I’m so sorry you have to do this. I told Julie I was more than capable–” “Oh, hush,” Mrs. Davis said. “It’s no trouble.” She reached down to unsnap his onesie. “I don’t even need a diaper for…well, this. But she really wants me to use it all the time, and she doesn’t like me using the bathroom. She won’t really tell me why,” he said, aware that he was talking to quell the embarrassment. He wanted her to know it wasn’t his idea, and that he wasn’t a complete invalid. Mrs. Davis had untaped his diaper. “Shh, I know.” She wiped his penis, cleaning his front quickly and efficiently. “Can you lift your legs now?” she asked. He grabbed his knees and pulled them open as Julie had taught him. “Perfect,” he heard. “Julie has taught you well.” She pulled the diaper away from him and used it to clean him, front to back. “And she keeps you so well shaved. Very nice.” He was sure his face was bright red from the burning he felt in his cheeks. “Julie told me that you don’t like to poop in your diaper. She said you need the diapers because you wet your pants, but that it is just easier to keep you in diapers the whole time. Is that what she told you?” she went on, reaching over to get a wipe. He nodded, deciding not to argue about whether he routinely wet his pants. “Yes, ma’am. It’s–well, it’s obviously just so embarrassing, but she doesn’t want to debate it. I can’t imagine it is easier for her. Or pleasant for that matter,” he noted, feeling the familiar coldness of the wipe clean his bottom. It made him clench his sphincter; that was always a little shock to his system. But it warmed up quickly. Mrs. Davis was obviously experienced. She was fast, too! She smiled grimly. “That’s my girl. I can’t speak for her, but sometimes there are hidden reasons for an action that help explain it.” Mrs. Davis rolled the diaper up. “Okay, lift a little?” He felt the diaper removed and watched her tape up the dirty diaper and set it aside. She looked pensive. She opened the new diaper, seemingly considering something. “I guess I can tell you,” she decided. “Okay, up again?” She slid the diaper under him. “Did you know that I keep her father in diapers?” His eyes widened. He was stunned. What?!! Of course he didn’t know. He’d never met the man. ‘Kept him in diapers?’ “What? Why? What’s wrong?” She sighed. “Well, nothing, other than he’s a man.” He instinctively let his legs fall apart so she could powder him, which she did liberally. He blinked, confused. “A man? What does that have to do with it?” She brushed off her hands and pulled the diaper up between his legs. She considered her words. “I…have found…that he is a better husband and was a better father when he was dependent on me for…his…bathroom needs. So, long story short, that is how we have always done it. For decades now.” He was stunned. That was truly bizarre! But–very similar to his and Julie’s arrangement. Mrs. Davis pulled down the front of his onesie. “Julie said you can wait to get a shower until later when she is home, so if it is okay with you, we’ll wait to get you new clothes, too.” He hardly cared at this point. “That’s fine with me. Thanks. But–so–” She nodded and started snapping his onesie. “Yes, so that is the parental model Julie had growing up. We have a wonderful relationship, so she probably internalized and, what’s the term? Idealized it.” Mrs. Davis put away the wipes and powder. She smiled at him. “So, you see, it doesn’t surprise me to see your arrangement. And I know it doesn’t reflect on you or mean that you can’t take care of yourself. You are a good man, and you listen to your girlfriend. That’s all. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me. So thank you.” He sat up, overwhelmed. How much of their arrangement was him, or the need to be efficient at work, and how much was just the way Julie had been brought up? He had so many questions, and so many new things to consider. Mrs. Davis, however, had moved on. “Okay, well, I’ve got to get out and take care of Andrew and Thomas now before they leak. I’m not sure what you’ve got to do this morning, but you are welcome to play with us. I’ve got some crafts, and I think we’ll probably head out for a walk once it warms up.” He nodded, distracted. But he remembered to be polite. “Thank you. I’ve got some little things to do, but I’m happy to come along and help out where I can.” Mrs. Davis left the room. He was stunned, but some pieces certainly did fall into place. Why Julie had thought his wearing diapers would be a reasonable solution, why she wasn’t embarrassed about it. But did she think he needed to be a “better” boyfriend? What had he done wrong to make her think that? She hadn’t even known what he was like as a boyfriend before he wore diapers for her. Why hadn’t she ever told him about this? The rest of the morning passed quickly. He worked a little, then played with the boys to give Mrs. Davis a break. She asked him once before lunch if he needed a change. “No, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t think so.” He wasn’t too surprised when she came over and prodded his diaper to confirm. She nodded. “I agree. You’ll last a while. Carry on.” The morning with Mrs. Davis had gone well, for all of his worrying. She, like Julie, was matter-of-fact about the diaperings. She hadn’t belittled him, just treated it like a fact of life. He was grateful to her for that, even if she sometimes lumped him in with the little boys at times. They enjoyed a nice lunch, then had a walk. The boys were changed and put down for a nap. Mercifully, there was no talk of napping for him. He was reading a medical journal when he became aware of Mrs. Davis tidying up. He looked at the clock. It was mid-afternoon, time for Julie to come home. Her gaze fell upon him, and she paused. “Let’s get you changed into a nice dry diaper before Julie comes home.” He protested, “I’m not that wet, I can wait.” Sure, Mrs. Davis was kind and professional about the whole thing, but did he constantly have to be on his back around these women? Besides, he was right in the middle of an article about– She shook her head. “You boys would go all day in a wet diaper if you could. No, it’s not nice for her to come home to a wet diaper. Let’s go. We’ll get you dry and comfortable.” He opened his mouth again, but realized Julie’s mom had made up her mind. Decisive women ran in the family, apparently. He followed Mrs. Davis back into the bedroom and sat on the bed while she rummaged around for the supplies. “Okay, lie back,” she said as her hands went to his onesie again. “I love this fabric. So playful. Julie has turned into quite a seamstress. I’ll have to look around for more patterns for her. Just adorable.” He was a little alarmed at this. “Um, do you think you could put in a plug for something more, um, grown-up? You know, normal colors or something?” She had untaped him and was wiping him already. “Oh, but these are adorable. A onesie should be cute and child-like. But it wouldn’t hurt to have more variety. You probably need a ‘good boy’ onesie with trucks and footballs, and then one for when you need to be taken down a peg.” His eyes bulged. Where was this going? She had unfolded the new diaper. “Up–there you go. Tell me, how would you feel about a nice pink onesie with unicorns and princesses on it?” He choked. “No! Please! Why would I want that?” She smiled as she taped him up. “Ooh, struck a nerve with that one, huh? I’ll make sure to find a nice girly one to use as a punishment onesie. You don’t have one of those yet, right? For after a spanking?” He was speechless. How did she know about–had Julie told her everything? He just stared at her in embarrassment. She smiled as his cheeks burned. “I’m her mother. Of course we talk.” She cleaned up, disposed of the wet diaper, and snapped him back up. “Well, I’ve got some homework to do, apparently. Gotta get on that.” She went into Julie’s bathroom to wash her hands. He needed to talk to Julie about this onesie thing, and about talking to her mother about their most private– Just then he heard the front door open, so he set aside those thoughts and hurriedly waddled out of the bedroom. Julie was arriving home. She put her purse down on the counter and took in the sight of him entering the kitchen in his onesie. She smiled. “How’s my big boy? How was your day?” He opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say that sounded like what a boyfriend might say, not a child. Most of the day had been spent worrying about diapers, then privacy about onesies and spankings. But Mrs. Davis walked into the kitchen. Julie turned to her mother, eyebrows raised. “Everything go okay today, Mom?” Her mother smiled. “Of course, honey. All of your boys were well behaved, and you have a keeper in this one,” she said, indicating him. He blushed. Julie came over to him and put her arms around him fondly. “Oh, yeah? He didn’t give you too much trouble?” Mrs. Davis smiled and put on her jacket. “Trouble? Of course not. We got to know each other, and he was a big help with the boys.” She picked up her purse. “But I do hope it is the regular time tomorrow. This was an early morning.” Julie said, “Yep, that sounds good. I’m sure that was rough on everybody,” she added, giving him a look. “Let me walk you out, Mom.” When Julie returned, she surveyed the apartment. Perhaps awakened by the door closing repeatedly, the boys sleepily toddled out of their room. Seeing their mother, they broke into a run and gave her a big hug around her legs. “Oh, that’s what I needed after being at work on a Sunday!” she exclaimed, squatting down and letting the boys kiss and hug her. “Anyone need a change?” Andrew and Thomas submitted to having their diapers checked, but Julie found them clean and (mostly) dry. She turned to him. “How about you, mister?” Her hand cupped his crotch, though her eyes didn’t leave his. Her eyebrows rose. “A completely dry diaper?” “Just changed,” he explained shyly. Julie’s face showed surprise. She hadn’t expected him to need more than his morning change. “Your mom insisted.” She smiled. “She can be convincing.” She stood and gave him a deep kiss, ignoring her sons trying to get her attention. “Thank you for being such a good boy.” Then she turned to the kids. “Show me what you guys did today!” Chapter 24 He made supper for the family, which she appreciated after a day at work. The boys had asked for spaghetti, and, luckily, he could boil water. After Andrew and Thomas went to bed, he and Julie sat and talked on the sofa. “Mom said you didn’t put up any fuss at all today. Aren’t you big!” she said, stroking his hair fondly. He dropped his eyes. “Your mom was very kind. It was horribly embarrassing. But she was nice about it.” “Oh, good. I told you it would be fine.” Time to get some answers. He gathered his courage and asked, “Did you turn off my alarm? I’d set it so I could–um, say goodbye to you this morning.” She snorted. “I know why you set it, you goof. Yes, I turned it off. You need your weekend sleep. And apparently, just like I’d promised, it turned out just fine. You remember that next time you second-guess me.” He nodded. It still would have been better his way. On to the big revelation of the day. “You never told me that your dad wears diapers. Your mom says she thinks that’s why you don’t let me use your bathroom.” She paused, her eyebrows raised. “Did she now?” He sat up a little, looking at her fully. “Didn’t you think I’d like to know that? That I might find it relevant?” This time it was Julie who broke eye contact. She looked down for a moment, then back to him. “Yes, I know. It was just–it was just hard for me to find a way to explain. I realize you might be interested in that.” She thought for a moment. “I never knew my father before their…arrangement. He was always in diapers, and I grew up thinking it was common. He was never embarrassed in front of me, just matter-of-fact. I assumed he needed them,” she told him. “It wasn’t until I got married that Mom confessed it had nothing to do with medical need. She explained that Dad seemed more, um, devoted to her when she kept him in diapers. It wasn’t that he was abusive or mean. He was a good man, she said. But–he just seemed more present and emotionally available to her when he used diapers instead of the potty. “She decided that, for them, their relationship would be better if he stayed in diapers. He later agreed, apparently. He needed them, but not for a physical reason. He needed them to be the best husband and father he could be.” Julie’s eyes dropped again. “My marriage was terrible. I know I haven’t talked much about it. I don’t like to think about it. I thought I knew what I wanted in a man. Let’s just say, I was young then. It probably would have been better if I had an arrangement like my parents had, but…he…wouldn’t consider it. “Our relationship was terrible, even with two little babies. Maybe worse because of that, I don’t know. When I told him I wanted to try diapering him, I knew how it would go down. And it was predictably bad. He told me I was a freak. It’s not the only reason we got a divorce, but it might have sped the process a little.” She smiled grimly. “And that was okay with me. I’d given him an ultimatum, and he chose divorce. In retrospect, that was definitely the better option.” He reached out to her, his hand on hers. “I’m sorry you had to go through that marriage. But–I’m trying to understand how I’m–why you wanted me to–ugh, I don’t know. We weren’t in a relationship at the time. Were you thinking we should be? Do I remind you of your ex-husband in some way?” She laughed. “No, sweetie. I put you in a diaper because you needed it. We really did need to work better together.” She looked at him fondly. “But you can see why it seemed, oh, I don’t know, like, reasonable. You looked at me like I was crazy,” she said. “But it wasn’t weird to me. Just what I grew up with.” He sat next to her, in thought. This explained a lot, actually. Why an adult wearing a diaper wasn’t bizarre to her. Why it was the first solution she had thought of at work. Why she still thought he was datable even though she had changed his dirty diapers. He felt relieved that she didn’t think of him the same way as her ex-husband. But she rose now, apparently done with the conversation. “Let’s go to bed now. I had an early morning, you know.” Later as they snuggled together in bed, they were each lost in their own thoughts. Julie, satisfied from 2 orgasms he had given her, was pondering how lucky she felt. She had entered this relationship attracted but wary, wondering if she could persuade a physician to give up ultimate control to her. She hadn’t been been able to assume they’d have a personal relationship necessarily, but was just looking for a bigger say in her professional career. But she had fallen in love with his gentle and naïve openness, his willingness to follow her lead, which encouraged her to push him further down an unknown road. Now, that road seemed even more inviting and promising. She had been leery of another relationship, honestly, but this was on her terms. Her mother had shown her the way. He was under her thumb in such a personal and total way that she felt completely secure. She was delighted that he was actually diaper dependent, which was not something she’d known to expect. Her father, apparently, was not. But this development meant that she could be supportive and helpful, not pushy and controlling, and still keep his infantile side front and center. And while she had thought the diapers would be the key to keeping him humble and well controlled, now she realized that she had unintentionally stumbled upon another big key, never mentioned by Mom. Controlling orgasms was clearly more powerful than she had expected, and seemed to work well with the diapers. They kept his hands out of trouble. The longer he went without an orgasm, the more obedient and eager to serve he became, and the less likely he was to complain about the diapers. It was a perfect system! If he thought that this month of orgasm control was going to end, he would be surprised. She had heard of chastity cages; if he put up any kind of fuss, he would find himself locked in a cage inside of a diaper. A part of her almost hoped he balked at following her lead on this, but she also knew it would be better if he was invested in making it work. So she would have to make it fun for him, even if his sex life was changing forever… And hers was, too. She hadn’t known how much she liked the gentle domination that had evolved, but it worked for her! Yet another reason they’d never go back to him being in control. She considered the path ahead. She thought she had done a good job preserving his ego—a critical challenge with any man. She didn’t want him to be completely emasculated, just deferential to her. She had laid down the law, and he had accepted. He was getting more and more dependent on her, and yet remained the efficient, caring provider she had loved. He wasn’t going to cheat on her, she felt sure: as perfect a mate as he had turned into, wearing diapers probably made him less appealing to others. She had made him more attractive to her and less of a catch for others. He was the perfect partner, and he was all hers! She couldn’t be happier. “Baby, you still awake?” she asked quietly. He was. He was simply thinking about his unfulfilled sexual need. It was true that Julie had played with him a little, but she had decided he wasn’t going to cum tonight. She didn’t seem mad at him, so he guessed that it was just to keep him frustrated. “Yes, ma’am,” she heard him murmur. It was starting to give her a little sexual thrill to hear him say that. She cleared her throat. “I have a confession to make.” “Oh?” He’d been getting drowsy, but this roused him a little. She turned toward him in bed, and she reached out to caress his face. “I kind of like this.” He was confused. “Like what?” She stared into his eyes. “Us. Together.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “I like you here in the apartment, with my boys. I like you, in diapers, letting me change you.” She smiled. “And I really like that you let me decide when you get to come.” He swallowed. He wasn’t so sure that would always work for him. But…this probably wasn’t the time to argue, he could see. He smiled a bit to himself. Actually, there was never a good time to argue, was there? Her hand was tickling his chest now. “We’re good together, aren’t we?” He nodded and admitted what he had known for a while now. “Yes, ma’am, we are.” Julie swallowed, a bit nervously, it seemed to him. “What would you think about making this arrangement more, um, permanent?” He was thinking about the sex. He still wasn’t sure he liked the new system…but…maybe she wasn’t just talking about the sex. “What–” Now she was looking intently into his eyes. “What would you think of getting married?” she asked. He swallowed, but his throat was suddenly dry. “Is this a proposal?” She stared for just a moment, then nodded. Her voice was suddenly kind of husky. “Yes, I think it is.” He was surprised. Wasn’t he supposed to propose? But he admitted to himself that nothing about their relationship had been conventional. He’d thought about marriage. A lot, actually, since they’d been living together. But it was a leap. Sure, it was probably always a huge step, but this…this arrangement… Julie had asked him to do all sorts of bizarre things: wear and use diapers, poop and pee in front of her, allow her to change them and dress him in babyish clothes, allow her to spank him and control his orgasms. He thought back to the first day, when she’d fixed him with that “mom” look and told him to pull his pants down so she could diaper him. It had all followed from his decision to obey her at that moment. He hadn’t felt like he’d had a choice that day. Had he ever had a choice since then. Well, it seemed like he had a choice tonight. It was all incredibly embarrassing, but it had taken him down a spectacularly intimate path. She truly didn’t seem to care about things other people found humiliating or gross. He had gone with it. If she didn’t care, why should he? After wearing diapers for a few months, he wasn’t confident he could keep his pants dry. That wasn’t good, and it was a direct consequence of following Julie’s suggestions. But if he was with Julie, it didn’t really matter, did it? He realized that nothing really bad had happened to him since they had been together, despite all of her twisted instructions. There were some difficulties with how she wanted him to live, but with her help, it was easy. In fact, after a day full of making nonstop important decisions, how nice was it to come home and not have to worry about deciding anything? And now, he had to admit, he was accustomed to wearing diapers. After so much intimate touching and teasing, the smell of baby powder gave him an erection. Her “baby” voice, the quiet soothing voice she used when changing him, made him hard. Even that stern look she gave him, almost every day for some reason or another, turned him on. He realized he loved being babied by Julie. It had been a crazy ride so far that had challenged him. But he loved this woman. Maybe they could still work on his wetting problem. Prior to today, he had been sure she wouldn’t want him in diapers forever, but now he wasn’t entirely sure. Did it really matter, though? He smiled at her. “If I say yes, can we have sex tonight?” She laughed. “Definitely not.” He stared at her with an expression that said, Seriously?! She patted his cheek. “But I’ll make sure you enjoy it when we DO have sex. This time and every time.” Exasperated, he fell back on his pillow. She leaned over him and kissed him. “Have I ever steered you wrong yet? By this point, you should trust me, right?” He relaxed and realized she was right. Julie was always right. He was so happy with her. He would stay with her, in diapers, getting sex when she said so and being spanked when he angered her. Because somehow, now, that seemed like the place he had always been meant to be. So he answered her proposal the only way he knew how. He made sure she could hear his manners. “Yes, ma’am.” And she smiled.

I usually play video games on my laptop or smartphone. I have a Nintendo Switch, but I have not played it in a while. My favorite games are mainly RPG and Strategy video games. Some of my favorite video games that I play sometimes are Magic: the Gathering Online, Legacy of the Beast, Knights of Pen and Paper 2, and various games in the Pokémon series.

I am about to change a very wet Tena Super ProSkin diaper with a Tranquility booster and a pair of plastic pants that I have been wearing and wetting for about 8 hours. My wife and I were talking with a young neighbor woman and during the conversation I wet some more without skipping a beat in the conversation. My evening attire is already out, a fresh Bambino Classico V2 diaper.

Just got changed into 2 terries diapers should be enough till tomorrow morning

I do not know what the diaper said, but I know what the rubber panties said to the diaper; "I've got you covered"

Me, I've been playing Callisto protocol. I like it pretty well, but there are some issues with it. Mostly with combat and lack of exploration. It's mostly just going from point A to point B to install fuses and the close quarters combat doesn't work very well when you have multiple enemies. And I absolutely hate the dodging mechanic, especially when you're fighting two heads and the final boss in the game. Other than that, the graphics are pretty good and stuff I just wish the dodging mechanic could be taken out of the game and some of the controls I don't like. I'm thinking I might move on to Evil West soon. I'm really looking forward to that game.😁😃♥️😏

I'm in a thoroughly soaked blue Megamax. I'm going to change into an Abena L4 here in a bit to run errands in....

Chapter 4: We're Waiting, Mr. Whittington The first book ended well, and though I was frustrated that they weren’t even at the camp we had excavated in the first place where we had found the chest full of the diaries, I was glad they had finally made land fall. ‘Maybe something more would be in the second or third book?’ “Mr. Whittington? Mr. Whittington? Bradley? Are you there?” Betty called out from the other end of the room where I had been reading. “Yes, Betty. Over here.” I waved my arm about from behind my stack of books so she could see from most areas of the dusty room. I heard the clacking of her heels get closer and she soon appeared in front of me, her hair neatly curled in the latest of fashions these days, though while still maintaining her innocent looks. If she hadn’t been married, I probably would have taken her out by now, but alas. “What is it, Betty?” “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Whittington, with your discoveries and reading and all, but…” “But what, Betty?” I asked impatiently. She looked uncomfortable and squirmed on the spot as if I was forcing her to say a dirty word in a nunnery. “The backers. They’re… they’re here.” “The backers? As in…?” “As in most of them. In the nearby smoking room. I placed them in there while I told them I would try and find you. I was going to make up an excuse over why you couldn’t see them, but I…” I stood up and stroked Betty’s quivering shoulder. “It’s okay, Betty. These things are bound to happen sooner or later. Can’t put them off forever.” Betty nodded and walked me out and through a few hallways to the university’s smoking room for staff. It was a small pretentious room that had been donated to the school years ago. Now though, mostly only important future donors or heads of projects would meet in there. ‘I guess it gave them a sense of superiority or importance or something like that.’ “Good luck, sir.” “Thank you, Betty.” I sighed and then pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the room. Inside, were seven men who I had grown accustomed to since I had first received their backing in Egypt. There were originally ten, but three had left at this point for other more fruitful and projects of ‘more substantial results and more frequent impacts,’ at least according to their own words. Mr. Hapsborough was the first to speak. He coughed from the stub of a cigar he held in his hands and then adjusted his tightly bound vest over his protruding gut. “Mr. Whittington… so good of you to join us. We were just discussing the results of your little project here. Or I guess I should lack of results.” “Yes, uh, well progress is slower than we anticipated, and the further journals we found are tedious, to say the least, to translate.” Their beady eyes just stared at me for a moment as if looking for a reason not to pull out right then. “But… we have found in the journals that they have now made it to land. The first of the four journals have been translated in its entirety. We expect to have the next translated soon.” “Hmmm,” Mr. Hilberforth, one of the few non-rotund figures in the room, spoke up. “Soon… a despicable word if ever.” “Yes,” Mr. Keeling, a red haired and balding figure, agreed. “Soon is relative, Mr. Whittington. We are all wealthy men here, but we did not achieve our greatness simply by relative terms. We have schedules to keep.” Mr. Hapsborough butted in after coughing and hacking for a moment. “And…” Cough! “Sending money to you is like tossing it in a hole and waiting for us to grab our money back when it gets to the top. As of right now, it’s still just a black hole.” “I can understand your all’s frustration, but progress has been made. As promised, we found the original book and the dig site of the expeditions camp. Now, it’s just a matter of time.” “A matter of time?” Mr. Keeling asked. “A matter of time… another relative term.” He shook his head and many of the other more silent backers grumbled in their frustrated agreement with him. “Let me ask a hypothetical… say you get to the end of the books, what makes you think they’ll lead you to the source?” His question froze my blood. I had nightmares about it since we had uncovered the journals at the dig site. The journals had been buried in a native stone chest, along with the other implements of the quest. Knowing the conquistadors never made it back to Spain, it was hard to guess what had actually happened. Disease? Devoured by the local wildlife? Native attacks? There were too many possibilities and not enough evidence for any outcome. “I’ve thought about that, Mr. Keeling.” The other backers leaned in. Apparently, it had been a question on many of their minds. “I have to have hope.” Many of the backers grumbled. “I know that isn’t something you can necessarily put your money behind, but we know two things. First, the journals weren’t burned and in fact were preserved in a chest, along with other items of the expedition. If other endings had occurred to their party, such as disease, these items would have been scattered and likely lost to time.” I scanned the room, and the backers were still looking at me intently in judgement, but I knew I at least hadn’t lost their attention, so I pushed on. “Secondly, the chest was buried. We can confirm that fact from our findings in the area, which means that it was either buried to be discovered again by the conquistadors themselves or buried as a means of hiding the truth by someone else. In either scenario, there is something more along this path we are all on. Cover up or success, and either is good for discovery. I just ask for your patience.” The backers murmured and bickered amongst themselves for a few good minutes. I stood as still as I could, not wanting to draw more attention to myself when the fate of the project seemed to be balancing on the edge of a knife. Finally, Mr. Hapsborough spoke up after taking a sip of water on the table, likely to prevent further coughing. “We admire your spit, Mr. Whittington… and your hope.” I smiled inwardly at the possibility of all this continuing still. “That being said, we backers are men of time. As such, you have three weeks to translate the other materials and find our water. After that, we will meet again but so you are aware, we will likely not renew our money agreements with you and leave this project.” I nodded at the gravity of the situation. Several years of work all boiled down to the next three weeks. In that time, I would either achieve my dreams or be cast into ruin. The other backers spoke briefly amongst themselves again and then started leaving the room. Soon, only a coughing Mr. Hapsborough remained. I approached the elderly obese figure and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Hapsborough, are you okay… Hey!” A man I only knew as Sam quickly lurched my hand away from Mr. Hapsborough’s shoulder, easily doing so with his tall stature over me and thick muscles. “Do not touch, Mr. Whittington. Never again,” he squeezed my hand tighter. “Understand?” I winced in pain. “Yes…” Sam then nodded and let my hand go. “I was just asking if he was okay…” I shook my hand out to relieve some of the pain. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Whittington, but there’s nothing you can do for me right now. You see…” “Sir, please, no.” Sam begged. “He needs to know, particularly if things should go ill…” Mr. Hapsborough turned back to me. “You see, Mr. Whittington, I’m dying.” “You’re…” “Dying, yes. And something tells me that if that happens, Sam here will likely blame you. I don’t think you want that to happen…” I clutched my bruised hand and shook my head. “No, sir.” “Good. So, do us both a favor and find that damn water. If you don’t, if nothing else unseemly, I will be dead and my money will go elsewhere, and you will be ruined in your search. A testament, if you will, of failure in your field.” “Yes, sir. We’ll… double our efforts.” Mr. Hapsborough smiled crookedly, knowing his words had gotten under my skin. He gave me the extra motivation I thought I needed to make a discovery. “Good, I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Whittington.” He nodded his head and Sam guided him out of the room. I meandered back to lab, where Betty and Sat were waiting for me. Betty, however, was listening in on the phone and didn’t see me walk back in. “Yes? Yes? Oh my, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Yes, goodbye!” She hung up the phone and squealed with excitement. “Good news, Betty?” I asked wearily. “Oh yes! I found out that I’m pregnant.” “Oh, my word!” Sat cried out, hugging her tenderly. “Congratulations, Betty! I’m sure Donald will be so happy.” “Donald, oh yes, I believe he will. We’ve been trying for so long now, ever since we got married in fact.” The two then looked at me. I was still in my daze over the increased timeline. Betty being pregnant was cause for celebration, but now, we had to work. “Congratulations, Betty…” Her face fell. She could always read me like a book. “What’s wrong, Mr. Whittington?” I realized I was casting a pallor over the room, but I answered truthfully. “The backers… they… aww, I’ll just tell you straight. We have three weeks to find the water.” “Three…?” Sat looked terrified and then glanced over at the remaining books. They were thicker and likely contained the most important parts of the whole voyage. “That’s…” “Difficult, yes. I’m going to pause my research and we’ll trade off on our translating of the books. It will need to be around the clock at this point. In less than three weeks, we need to finish translating three more books and mount an expedition back out there.” Sat gulped. “Yes, sir.” He looked back over to the books. “Guess we best get started right away… I’m on it,” he said determinedly, walking back over to his desk, the journal, and his leather-bound translation of it. I smiled and then looked over at Betty. She looked nervous but was absent mindedly rubbing her stomach. “Betty?” “Huh?” She broke out of her daze and looked back at me. “Oh, sorry, Mr. Whittington. What do you need?” I sighed. “I’m very happy for you Betty, but we can celebrate your pregnancy later. Right now, we need to focus for only a few more weeks here. Otherwise, all this will be for nothing.” She looked sad an rubbed her stomach once more. “I understand.” She then shook her head, obviously trying to shuffle away her current thoughts. “Do you need anything now, Mr. Whittington?” “Yes, thank you Betty. Sat and I will start taking our lunches in here from now on. Can you be a dear and go get them?” “Yes, right away, Mr. Whittington.” She smiled but solemnly walked out of the room. I sighed again. I was being truthful when I said we would celebrate her pregnancy later, but now was the time for focus. Presently, all that mattered were these journals and the leather-bound translated versions that Sat and I would now both be working on. I just hoped that it would all be done on time.

I ended up changing into a Petite BabyDoll

*looks in vain for a license plate* ...then I remember that in some single-plate states, the plate for a medium or large truck goes on the front.

Starting the day with a nice warm and wet Northshore Supreme and two boosters.

To me, it is several things 1. Throw-aways feel just plain alien and the diapering process is alien: All just pplain wrong 2. Moral: It is wrong to dump my waste in someone else's lap and landfill is at a premium and it is wrong to shorten the useful life of such things when the sewer system is designed for that purpose 3. Practical; I like to be self-contained as far as such things go; fewer "moving parts" and less Murphy bait. How many persons were busted by someone finding out doe to sloppy postal service?Also cloth diapers and panties are less prone to failure. How many persons were busted or embarrassed to tears by blowout? After the first washing, before the first use, I know where they have been 4. Economic; While this chart is Australian, the same pretty much must hold for other palces. "Convenience" is trumped by long-term interests in a sensible person. At a rate of 2 to 4 changes a week, I have gotten over 10 years from my supply of diapers and snapo on panties \

@Spanky Thanks for the info. Maybe I just have to be a little more patient and wait and see what it turns out to be. Everyone has to start somewhere and learn how to run a business. If the company and the products are ok, success will probably come. More opportunities and more competition can only benefit us all. 🙂

It is a startup company. They're out of Savana GA. That's about all I know. The few reviews that I found, people like their diapers.

I'm in a wet and really messy Rearz Critter Caboose diaper right now. I really had to go bad and barely got my diaper on before I let loose and filled it up. I peed and pooped myself as soon as I got the tapes fastened and adjusted to my liking

Happy Monday and Memorial Day Holiday for those in the U.S. and we remember those brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we can live in freedom (relative). I won't comment on the term "relative" as that will prompt a political and societal discourse beyond the scope of ADISC, but I will comment on my wet and messy morning NS Air Active Supreme diaper and DependEco turquoise bear PUL pants. My comment is simply ahhh, my diaper feels so warm and squishy!

Tykable Waddlers. Only second time wearing them! Very comfy and thick Really make you "Waddle"

@anniemilk, Sounds like that story is "Hidden rooms" on Zity.biz. There's also a rewrite on there. Here's the links. https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=docs;ox=showpart;idp=17737 https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=docs;ox=showpart;idp=20775 Hope this is the one. Thanks Blue

Yes, but it applies to when you first wake up in the morning and get out of bed. You can "Moochie" your diaper the second your feet hit the floor, walking down the stairs, petting the cat or making your morning cup of coffee before your morning jog. You are a trend-setter! You know you've hit the big time when they name a messy morning diaper after you! See? It's already taking off! Soon everyone will be referring to their messy diaper as "Moochied".

THE HOTEL CALIFORNIA “I feel silly.” Ian was standing in the middle of a nondescript locker room beyond which, through the most highly secure door in the entire hospital, lay the quarters housing the involuntarily committed. “And you look it,” Marge sheepishly agreed. Studying him from head to toe, she nodded approvingly. Ian was still clothed in his usual hospital diaper and vinyl pants, but in addition he was now sporting a thick canvas diaper cover-- and it was locked. Marge ran her fingers around the waist and thigh openings, trying to force her way in so that she could yank them off. But the pants weren't going anywhere until she unlocked them. Everything the purchasing department was ordering from West Germany was turning out to be state of the art. Marge gave his top a final check. Ian was wearing the usual hospital gown, but it was short enough that his diapers were fully exposed, and instead of being open in the back, it was zipped up to his neck, where a snap lock secured it in place. “Every patient in this ward is dressed in exactly the same way,” she added with a trace of impatience. “Do keep in mind that the business end of a diaper pin is three inches long. If a patient were to get his hands on one and straighten it out, he would have a six inch long weapon with a workable handle. You can do a lot of damage with a diaper pin, Ian; believe me, we've tested them.” “It's the shoes, Marge! For God's sake, why am I wearing bright red boat shoes?” These were also locked in place, and once again Marge had the key. “Patients sometimes rage out of control, and attack staff or other patients for no apparent reason. No one wearing these shoes is going to do much damage with their feet.” “And the restraints?” Ian's hands were both encased in heavy canvas mittens, identical to the ones that Sarah made him wear at home. He was so used to them that they didn't disturb him in the slightest. But there were steel O rings securely embedded in the lining of his diaper cover, and short leather straps tethered his hands to the rings. Since these were also locked, Ian's hands were effectively chained to his side. He had tried to locate his penis through the multiple layers of clothing that kept it out of sight, but the straps didn't give him enough play. Which means that I can't touch myself while I'm wearing this outfit. Wonder if that's by design … “Required.” Marge's impatience was becoming more apparent. “Committals don't simply waltz in here, Ian. They are always heavily restrained. Now, are you ready for the muzzle?” Marge was holding it in her hands. “Just get on with it.” “All right. But remember, if this interferes with your breathing, nod your head vigorously and I'll remove it. Ready?” Ian opened wide, and Marge inserted a thick bulb deep into his mouth. A stiff plastic face plate that lay snug against his lips kept it in place, while heavy straps that Marge efficiently fastened behind his head made sure that he couldn't spit it out. He already knew that a feeding tube could be run through the face plate into the center of the bulb, and that he could be given fluids and food though the holes that dotted its surface-- if you wanted to call the mush that came out of the bag left hanging on an IV pole food. Vickie had delighted in showing him the tools of her trade, teasing him that only good boys got out of the restraints that he would be wearing when he made his debut performance. And she made it abundantly clear that she was hoping I'd turn out to be a very, very bad boy … Ian was seriously beginning to wonder whether Vickie was the Devil incarnate. “Oh … kay,” Marge said as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Just the leg restraints, and we'll be good to go.” She knelt before Ian, and quickly secured his ankles in thick leather cuffs; the lead was so short that he would have to shuffle rather than take normal steps. “What do you think, Victoria? Have I missed anything?” “Looks good to me,” Vickie laughed. She found Ian's obvious discomfort highly amusing. No need for him to know that I don't think all this melodrama is necessary. Keep it light, which will make it clear to him that it's Miss By the Book here who's insisting that we follow the admissions protocol to the letter. By all means, let her play the bad cop to her heart's content; then ... if this experiment blows up in our face ... the ball will land in her court, and that will get Rita off the hook. Little Miss By the Book won't be running to the Director's office with the latest lurid tale of psych ward misbehavior if I've got my fist well and truly shoved up her cunt ... “Though I do have to say that our baby would look really, really cute in a Scold's Bridle. Did you see that episode of The Avengers...” “The one with Mrs. Peel in the chastity belt,” Marge interjected. “I never missed an episode, but that one was my favorite.” “Mine, too,” Vickie said as she got up and walked over to give Ian the once over. She ran her hand slowly over his crotch and then took her time carefully checking his muzzle. “But I do wish that he had more stubble on his cheeks.” Vickie lightly patted first one and then the other. “Should we rub him down with some garbage to make good the difference? He just doesn't smell like someone recently picked up out of the gutter.” Oh, Ian … if you only knew what's in store for you when I get you inside room eleven … Ian could hardly miss the mischievous twinkle in Vickie's eyes. Are you having fun, Vix? You wouldn't believe the things that I want to do to you ... or maybe you would ... “A good point,” Marge conceded as she in turn ran her fingers over Ian's cheeks. “It is too bad that he shaved this morning; we definitely could do with a bit scruffier appearance.” “Well,” Vickie suggested, “we could leave him like this for a day or two … give him time to get a little ripe. It would definitely give him greater credibility.” Trussed up and gagged, Ian could only roll his eyes. Vickie was having way too much fun at his expense. “Hmmmmmm.” Marge dragged it out to let Ian know that she was seriously considering Vickie's suggestion. “But no,” she sighed; “Rita's made it clear that there's a clock running, and that time is not on our side. So for now, we'll just have to postpone our fun.” Miss By the Book turned back to Ian. “Now remember, when Don and Phil see you come into the play room, to them you will look just like any other new arrival. We'll remove the muzzle first, then your restraints. Next comes the usual song and dance about not acting out or the restraints go right back on. Vickie will do the honors while I stand back and watch. Don't move to the bench until Vickie instructs you to do so. Phil Kettering is the one with light brown to blonde hair. If at all possible, keep him between you and Phillips. Don has shut down completely, which worries us because it's often the prelude to a violent psychotic episode. If your presence sets him off, we don't want you in the line of fire. There will be two male orderlies out of your line of sight; trust them to handle the situation. Do not, under any circumstances, intervene. Nod if you got all that.” Ian nodded. “Good,” Marge concluded. “Don't worry about your diaper. In fact, it would be a real plus if you could soil yourself in Kettering's presence because it will add to your authenticity. But if it happens, just sit there and pretend that you don't know where the smell is coming from. Now, let's get this show on the road!” “I'll do the honors!” Vickie punched in the door code, and stood aside to let Ian shuffle forward. “Welcome to the Hotel California,” she laughed. Ian could only look at her quizzically. “You'll see, Princess, you'll see.” . . . . Ian plopped on the bench, and looked around. There wasn't much going on. A couple of guys sitting on the padded floor, one of them making the occasional grunting noise … another guy standing in front of the heavily screened window, just standing there, staring into space … and, of course, to his left, Don and Phil. The Everly Brothers, he decided. Wonder if they can sing Bye Bye Love. The moldy oldie was the first 45 that Ian had ever bought, all the way back in '57. A lot of water under that particular bridge, he shrugged, watching Marge out of the corner of his eye. In turn, Marge was watching him out of the corner of her eye while pretending to do her job. Whatever that is ... Vickie had already departed the scene, having given Ian chapter and verse. He had pretended dutifully to listen, and he had followed her instructions to the letter. He had seen the disappointment in her eyes. She really, really wants me to be a naughty boy. Ian was methodically probing his diaper cover, trying to figure out if he could generate enough friction to wank off. He figured that he owed Marge a cheap thrill, and it seemed like the sort of thing that a hard core, down on his luck boozer would do in a joint like this anyway. His reward was another stream of piss, for which his diaper seemed appropriately grateful. If diapers could talk, I wonder what they'd have to say ...and why the hell is Vickie still here? She was already off shift when she picked me up … Ian's fingers continued their exploratory probe over the hills and dales of his diaper cover … Well guess what, Vickie, I wrote the book on bad assery. Three tours in southwest Pacific … well, should I count the last one? I mean, it was really pretty badly interrupted. Anyway, I didn't pick up Khmer and Lao sitting on my ass in Nha Trang. Hell, I spent so little time on the beach that I couldn't even get a half-assed tan. Great beach, though. I'd like to go back someday … hey, Marge, do I have to send up smoke signals or something? Are you enjoying the show? “Do we get chow in this place,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes still staring fixedly at an imaginary dot on the opposite wall. He wanted Kettering to make the first move. He sensed Phil turn his head a millimeter or two to begin the six million year old process of deciding whether he was friend or foe. It took a lot of effort to defeat the hard wiring in human DNA, and Phil Kettering clearly wasn't up to the task. “It's coming.” “Hope it's better than the shit they serve up over at the shelter. That stuff's gross.” With Rita's help, Ian had done his homework. It hadn't taken long. There wasn't much in the file-- a police report detailing a transient's passage through shelters around the downtown core, but nothing from the VA. It was pretty clear that neither Don nor Phil had made use of their benefits. “Better some days, worse others.” Phil had gone back to staring into empty space, but at least he was talking. Staring at nothing's gotta be an art form around here … do they get gold stars if they can look at nothing without blinking for half an hour? And fuck you, Rita! I wouldn't be here if you hadn't hung your ass out to dry! Giving me their files to read … the worst violation of patient confidentiality I've ever seen. If this got out, they'd fire you on the spot … Jee-zus! “My last decent meal was at the officer's mess in Quang Tri, and that was God only knows how many years ago. Say, do you happen to know what the fuck year this is? I've lost track.” “Don't know, don't care. Don did his tour in Quang Tri. Were you 9th Infantry?” Ian shook his head. “Special Forces, 5th Airborne. Out of Nha Trang. Didn't spend much time there, though. We resupplied out of places like Quang Tri all the time … just five klicks to the west, and you were over the line.” “Laos.” “Yeah … Laos. Fuck, I need to jerk off so bad!” Ian was still playing with his diaper cover, which he now reckoned had been invented by somebody in the Spanish Inquisition. “Won't happen,” Phil whispered, “and if the Wicked Witch sees you trying, it's straight back into the mittens. And if you get too far out of line, they put you down for the night in full restraints. I need to get out of here ...” Phil nodded in Marge's direction; the Wicked Witch currently had the guy staring out the window dead in her sights. She's overdoing it, Ian thought. Damn it, Marge, surveille the damn room! Don't make it so bloody obvious that you're play acting! “What about you,” Ian queried. “3rd Battalion, 60th Infantry … outside My Tho.” “The Delta.” Ian spat it out. “Word is that it got really hairy down there.” “Yeah. I went in with the lead elements in May of '67. Ten months in a fuckin' swamp. Skirmishes by day and sappers by night. It never ended. We fed Saigon the bullshit kill numbers that they wanted, but we never made a dent. It was all bullshit and it was all hairy. A lot of guys didn't make it home … wish I'd been one of them.” Ian nodded. After Hue, he had made the same wish on more than one occasion. “Donnie's lost it,” Kettering whispered. “A whole tour at Quang Tri, repairing stuff in the motor pool by day and walking perimeter by night. Sappers in his soup. When he went short time, he wigged out. Came home in a strait jacket, got thirteened, dumped in the streets. Pissing … pooping in his pants? None of it reaches him anymore.” Ian leaned forward so that he could get a better look at Don Phillips. His first thought was LSD, the whole Haight-Ashbury to Woodstock scene, but Rita had been adamant that the druggies were screened out, never made it into the program. Poor guy. “Rank?” “Corporal … just like me. How about you?” “Major … three tours … all the low lights.” “Fuckin' A! Should I salute?” “Not hardly. The army and I didn't exactly part ways on the best of terms.” “Fuckin' A.” “I wanted to go back,” Ian elaborated as he reached down to rub the ugly scar on his left leg. “But the Pentagon said no, so I resigned my commission, told them to go fuck themselves, and I went back on my own. I had debts to pay … still do.” Out of the blue, he suddenly started laughing. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find adult diapers in Saigon?” “You need them?” Phil was looking at Ian's thigh, trying to figure out the caliber that had blown through it. It's hard to believe this guy can stand upright … “Yeah.” Ian reached around to tap the small of his back. He reckoned that it was just below the top of his diapers. “The round must have been tumbling at extreme range … can't be any other explanation for why I'm still alive. Shattered on impact. Didn't put me in a wheelchair, just diapers. No control at all … zip, zero and nada. By the way, I'm sorry if I stink up the place. There's no warning … I just … I just go.” “Hey, don't worry about it, man. When you gotta go, you gotta go.” This is unbelievable, Marge fumed. For fifteen weeks, all we get out of Phil Kettering is the thousand yard stare, and then Grady comes along and gets his whole life story in less than fifteen minutes! Is it the uniform? Then what the Hell, let's hire Hot Lips Houlihan and be done with it! Marge hadn't caught every word, but she'd caught more than enough. And she could get the rest later because every square inch of the ward was wired for both sound and video. Still seething, she couldn't help but wonder whether Rita and Vickie were enjoying the show, and what Sarah would make of it when she listened to the tape. Dinner was being served. . . . . After dinner, it became readily apparent to Ian that there were far more patients in the ward than he had realized. He had followed Phil to an adjoining room, where they had sat at a long trestle table to eat conventional hospital food with plastic utensils. In contrast, a nurse had had to help Don to his feet, and then guide him farther down the corridor. They had disappeared into a room to the left, not to be seen again until after dinner, when they returned to the main hall. The nurse steered him back to his perch before leading still another patient into an adjoining chamber. Nurses and orderlies were escorting patients in and out in a steady stream before leading them back down the corridor to their individual rooms. Must be diaper changing time, with beddie bye just over the horizon. And it looks like Marge is in charge of the whole shebang. Marge was standing more or less in the center of the chamber, with a clipboard in hand. As each nurse or orderly came out with a freshly diapered patient in tow, Marge made a note on her form, and patient and attendant promptly set sail back down the corridor. Gradually, the main hall began to empty. Wonder who goes where, and why … “To restrain or not to restrain, that is the question!” Vickie was giggling in his ear. Badly startled, Ian jumped to his feet, pee gushing into his diaper, his thoughts perversely turning once again to Pete and Toby, the python and the elephant, forever bound together by the torrent of pee that his drunken python would unleash on a hapless world. “Where the hell did you come from?” Ian wanted to shout the question out at the top of his lungs, but Marge was glaring, and something in the way she was looking at them took the air out of his sails. “Where,” he whispered again. “Oh, I've been around,” she giggled “no, seriously, I just went down to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. Rita's still hard at it, so she's asked me to stay on and keep you company. I think the word 'babysit' came up at some point. Would widdle baby Ian like his aunt Vickie to babysit him for a while? Hmm?” “Is she your girlfriend?” “Huh?” Ian whirled around, having completely forgotten that Phil was sitting just a few feet away. Fuck … “I like her … I like her a lot.” Then, inspiration struck. “What about you, Phil. Is there a nurse on the staff that you really, really like?” “I like Becky.” A wistful smile creased Phil Kettering's features. “I like her a lot.” Ian looked at Vickie, and Vickie looked at Ian, big smiles on both their faces. And they both turned to look at Marge, who hadn't missed a thing. She made a note on her clipboard. Vickie walked over, and bent over the clipboard. “I'll take care of Ian personally,” she whispered. “Rita wants him in room eleven.” “WHAT!” Marge took a deep breath, struggling to lower her voice. “He doesn't belong in eleven … that's maximum security!” “Oh, come on. Aren't you a tad curious to see how little baby Ian is going to react when he sees a crib large enough to hold him, and all of those Segufix restraints? He didn't put up a fight when we prepped him, so Rita and I are really curious to see where this might lead. Aren't you?” “Yes, but ...” “No buts. Ian has gone the extra mile for Rita, and he deserves a reward. I'm going to see that he gets it, but first I need to find out what will give him the hard-on to end all hard-ons!” “And Sarah?” “She's not here. I am.” Marge shrugged, and made another entry on her clipboard. Wordlessly, she handed Vickie the key to Ian's diaper cover. “Take your time. I'll see to it that surveillance is turned off.” “Already done,” Vickie noted, before retreating to Ian's side.

I just want to thank everyone for their likes and comments. I know this story is less traditional for this community, but I knew I just needed to finish this one before moving on, so any support positivity toward it is a welcome scene. Hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 3: Land At Last I questioned the content in the first translated pages I had read. There was more in the book, but so far, most had been interesting but not substantial in getting us any closer to fountain. I could already see the seeds of chaos that could lead to the eventual failure of the mission, but I really only cared about their successes. Failure for them only meant delays in finding what my team had been looking for. Every day, I opened the paper and read about the new deaths and conflicts in the world and even our own country. It had been less than ten years since the Great War and subsequent Spanish Flu that had followed it. The memorial to the fallen still stood erect in the nearby park and I could see grieving families still visiting it on the lunch breaks I didn’t end up working through. I had no illusions that what we would find would change everything overnight, but I hoped it could tip the balance of the scales. St. Sebastian’s, a local church, had to expand their graveyard into another plot two weeks ago, having interred more than their share during the Great War, the Spanish Flu, and a few local deadly outbreaks. Hopefully, we could change all that… even if just a little. Eager to press on now, I scanned Sat’s leather-bound journal and found the next entry a few days later after they had spotted land. “We had found land, but the storms had thrown us off course. It took a few more days to reach the familiar embrace of our already established colonies in the islands…” * * * Arriving in Puerto de Carenas, the ship docked in the meager port to resupply for our long journey ahead. Stepping on the first dry land in weeks was a feeling I would never forget. It felt odd and I almost wanted to collapse from the sudden shock of not feeling the rock of the ship, but I also wanted nothing more than to kiss the ground. Fortunately for my own sake, my duties with the voyage took priority. Bernardo, Alejandro, and Juan all gathered in a nearby garrison to seek more information about the area. Not being needed now, I strolled around the area. Being less than 20 years old, the place was a hobbled mess if nothing else. Pigs and drunkards rolled around on the filthy streets that honestly bore a closer resemblance to a dried riverbed being flaked with so much mud and filth. I quickly found a local drinking spot where some of the colonists had begun to make their own alcohol. I decided not to drink, knowing our resupply mission wouldn’t last long, but local intel could be important. The laughter was deafening, and a few seedy or weary characters were plopped all around the main area of the primitive looking building. Having just sailed from Spain, I guessed my expectations of the New World may have been a bit much. I sat and turned to a group nearby. “Hector.” I reached out my hand to shake. The scruffy and dour man to my left kept drinking from his wooden mug and didn’t acknowledge my presence. I ordered a local watered-down drink and realized what I would have to do. I took another swig and turned to the rest of the people in the building. “So, any of you sail to the mainland?” The laughter and talking instantly died. Not a single soul of the twenty or so men in front of me seemed like they were even blinking in their fixed stares at me. “Is that a no?” “We don’t talk about that area…” the man who had served me my drink said roughly behind me. “Oh?” “It’s cursed,” a balding man said, drowning his words in his drink. “I don’t think I believe in curses. Maybe blessings, but not curses. Back home…” “But you’re not back home, are you?” A tall and broad-shouldered man huffed as he stood up from one of the rickety tables. “I guess not…” I could feel the tension in the room. I had seen it before after food supplies ran low and many in that tavern back home had just lost loved ones to a recent plague. I knew I needed to make my exit before things turned ugly. I turned to the man behind me who served the drink and placed a coin on the table. “I assume this will cover the drink.” He nodded quickly but didn’t speak a word. I could tell that he could sense the tension as well. Words could have been dangerous in a situation like that. I turned back to the crowd and bowed slightly. “Sorry for disturbing you all. I’ll just be on my way.” They all grumbled and went back to their conversations, though I could see each was still eyeing me on my way out the front door. As I neared the exit to head back to the rest of the crew, a scraggly looking man stood up. I could practically see his bones under his stretched tan skin, but his eyes bore a look of fierceness I couldn’t quite place. He seemed like he was looking for trouble, but as I walked out, he merely bumped into me and quickly apologized. To my surprise though, the bump thrust one of his hands into mine and slipped me a small bit of parchment. I knew a handoff when I saw one and quickly made sure no one would see what he had done. “Pardon me, sir.” I bowed at the man and he just gruffed and walked over to the man serving drinks. Nothing more was said or done, and I left the establishment. Once outside and a fair distance away from the bar, I looked at the note from the man in my hands. “Out back. Now.” It seemed odd and some of the letters were deeply smudged, not having a chance to fully dry, but I took the note seriously. It could have been a trap, but my curiosity got the better of me. After a few navigational errors in getting behind the building without sinking into some of the scattered mud pits, I saw the man waiting. “I got your note…” “Yes,” he said frailly. “I didn’t want the others to know. They don’t like the mainland. Most who go there end up dying. Most attempts to settle have ended the same. Why do you want to know about that wretched place?” I briefly considered telling him the truth. After all, he was taking the risk against his fellow colonists, but I couldn’t risk it. A potential mutiny and special orders from the crown on my end unfortunately dissuaded any sense of equal fairness toward each other. “Just another settlement. Some seek gold or a new life. The usual.” “I see…” his eyes darted across at me and I could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced but spoke anyway. “The hostiles inland are vicious. Mysterious, but deadly to any outsiders.” “Which is why we came prepared,” a voice rang out from behind me, one that I could recognize anywhere. The figure then stepped beside me. “Bernardo! What brings you here?” “I could ask you the same, Hector, but I was looking for you actually. We got what we came for.” “Who is this?” the scrawny man asked, his eyes squinted in distrust toward Bernardo. “This is my captain,” I replied, “Bernardo.” “Oh. Then you should both know of the danger.” “As I said, we came prepared,” Bernardo reinforced. “I see…” the man reached into his clothing and produced a heavily stained and worn piece of parchment. “How about this then?” “What is that?” I asked, staring at the folded-up bundle. “Thought you might be interested.” He smiled, revealing his crooked and yellow teeth, and then opened the parchment and revealed a detailed map. From my studies, I recognized it instantly from reviewing Narváez’s journey. “Is that…?” Bernardo asked, edging closer to us, now seemingly interested in the rakish figure. “Yes. One of a kind… a more detailed map than you’ll ever get. My friend was on that journey and willed this to me when he died of fever when he got back here. I have no use for it, but I figured you all might.” “Nothing is for free,” Bernardo said skeptically. “This is… I have no want for it. It’s a cursed place and most die or are never heard from again. Take the thing and be gone. I wish you luck, but you’ll need God, the devil, and all the powers of the universe to save yourselves if you go in there.” “Look, old timer…” The scrawny old man held up his withered hand and Bernardo stopped talking out of respect of the gesture. “Please. Just go and God and all the saints be with you. I wish to discuss this no further.” The man then handed me the map, waved goodbye, and retreated back into the building. “Funny little man. I swear, Hector, where do you find such creatures?” Bernardo joked, slapping me on the back in amusement. “Yeah… right…” I couldn’t help but study the map, so I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else. “Well, I see you’ve found another love, but come. The ship awaits us for our journey!” Bernardo pressed me forward and I stumbled around, looking intensely at the detailed depictions of the landmass we were now about to head to. “Too bad it only goes part of the way in. De León likely went further, if only…” “Fear not, Hector. We have no need of that particular section.” “But…” I wanted to ask more questions, but Bernardo had already rushed off toward the ship. I guess he still had a few secrets, but there was nothing I could do about it currently, so I just followed him closely back to the ship. * * * The crew had been less than enthusiastic about stopping so briefly in Puerto de Carenas, but the final leg of our seafaring journey kept land within sight for nearly the entire rest of the way. Seagulls would perch atop the masts, and we could spot fires coming from inland. Each was a curiosity, but also a sign of impending danger. Bernardo and I may not have believed in curses, but the scrawny old man had been right about the hostile natives. León himself didn’t survive his final journey inland. I only hoped our fate would be different. Finally, we pulled into shore near where Narváez had previously. Boats were lowered into the water and a small contingent of the crew remained behind. “We’re going inland, men. If we’re not back with any word within two months, set sail back for Puerto de Carenas. We will try to send a party back to communicate our safety and progress, but if the worst should happen… don’t come looking for us.” “But captain…” “That’s an order.” “Yes, sir.” The men tipped their heads in confirmation of obeying Bernardo’s possible final order to them. We were adventurers for sure, but we had no illusions about the safety, or lack thereof, of the untamed jungle and swampy environment we were about to enter. Still, my fingers clacked and rubbed together in nervousness as our boat was lowered into the water. Now ashore, the bulk of the crew looked at the canopy of trees before us. No true path and little to go on. It was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time. If successful, our names would forever be sealed on the lips of every great explorer to have come before us. We just had to survive the thicket of swampy mess that lay before us. * * * That night, we set up camp. Using the map procured form the scrawny old man, we had deduced several potential paths to travel by. Picking the one least objectionable had maddening little effect and the wet and muck we had to travel through was pure wasted effort and frustration to our entire party. Gratefully, we had found a small path that seemed to take us out of most of the more problematic areas. The heat and dampness could kill us all still, but we had to count our blessings where we could. Finding Bernardo’s tent, I knocked and then entered. “Ah, Hector. What can I help you with tonight?” “The map, Bernardo. I’ve been thinking. It only leads us so far in. Within days at best, we will be lost in this thicket. That being said, you didn’t seem at all concerned when talking to that man. In fact, it felt like you had another plan…” Bernardo leaned forward and squinted at me closely. “Is there something you want to ask me, Hector?” I took a deep breath in and just said what I was thinking. “I’m the mapmaker of this expedition, but I’m also your friend. Why do I feel that you’re keeping things from me?” Bernardo sighed. “Because I am.” He obviously saw my shock and gestured to a nearby barrel. “Please, sit.” I did so and glared back at him. “Please understand, Hector. Queen Joanna gave me specific instructions. I can’t show you yet, but I can confirm that there is another map. It was written by de León himself on his deathbed. Pulled from his notes and cobbled together all he knew about this land.” “And I can’t see this map? As mapmaker?” “Yes,” he looked at the ground mournfully, “not yet, but not never.” He looked back up at me. “There are four copies in total on the journey. Each is identical to the others. One is on the ship and the other three are with me, Alejandro, and Juan.” “And not the mapmaker…” “Yes, Hector. I know it’s not a good situation to be kept in the dark like this, but this journey is too important. This water could change everything for our people. Even the world!” I stood up. “I understand, Hector. I just thought things were different between us, but I understand.” I walked to the edge of the tent and pulled open the flap. “When you do feel you can show me, I want to look over at least one of them.” “Yeah… I will,” he said sorrowfully. I nodded and closed the flap. I knew Bernardo felt hurt by my leaving, but I didn’t want to deal with all the secrecy tonight. This environment had drained me, and by the looks of everyone else, the crew out here was drained as well. Diego and Roberto looked particularly exhausted, but also menacing as they sharpened their axes and swords by the fire we had started nearby. I nodded toward them, which they acknowledged, and I walked off. The trees moaned and ached in the breeze and animal calls of all kinds littered the blackness before me. It was a patchwork of everything new and exciting but also menacing and deadly. “Tough day, huh?” “Yes, Phillipe,” I said, noticing the dark figure who had walked up beside me. “Maybe tomorrow will be better.” “Maybe…” “Better than the ship though, right? Who needs puking and thrashing storms all day? Not me.” I smiled at my friend and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, Phillipe. It’s better than the ship.” I looked in the blackness before me and thought of all the unknowns before us. “Just wish this place was a little nicer.” “True, but you would know better than us. Captain’s got a plan, right?” I grimaced, as not having seen the map, I could only worry and hope that all this would be worth it in the end and that my friend was leading us to glory and not just leading us all to our doom. Either way, we would find out in a few days when Narváez’s original map and journey would end abruptly, still several days or weeks away from our destination, somewhere out there. “Yes, I’m sure he does…” I sighed. “I’m sure…”

Scene #211 “Passengers on flight 315, we will begin boarding in about 10 minutes.” I know I do most of the talking in my diary with Mary a close second, but that was the gate agent. Or as I like to call them, the agent of the gate. Agent Of The Gate. Sounds like someone who guards a castle or the entrance to another world in a fantasy novel, and sometimes my life is like a fantasy novel. ‘There goes Daphne,’ people say, ‘off in her little fantasy world.’ You’d be off in a fantasy world too if you had Mary, who was taking me on a trip. An awesome trip! Been so long since we left the country and I was just o so excited that for once my laconic self was downright chatty. “Do you remember what you called me on the first airplane trip we took together,” I asked Mary. “Um…” “O c’mon, you gotta remember.” “Daph … ne?” “You called me a carry-on-the-plane size girlfriend. It was very cute. You’ve been cute and kinda derpy the whole time you’ve known me.” “Do you remember what we did as soon as we got in our condo?” “I think so, but maybe you can tell me anyway.” “All passengers who need extra time boarding may board now.” “They’re gonna board us next,” Mary said. “You can board me whenever you’re ready,” I said cuz I’ve been derpy and prone to derpy sexual innuendo since I’ve known Mary. Two derps being derpy together. Sigh … And how did Mary respond to my very clever suggestion? Well, I shall tell you. She said, “Do you need your diaper changed before we get on?” She’s not cute and derpy all the time. She thinks she’s being cute with questions like that, but actually they’re mean and spiteful and other bad things. “No, for the tenth time since we got through security. And did I mention how incredibly unfair it was to make me wear one of these through security?” “It wasn’t mean at all. I knew they’d send us through a metal detector and not the body scan things.” “It’s called a millimeter wave scanner.” “I was dumbing it down for you cuz you’re a little girl.” “Marrrry!” It’s gonna be such a long flight. “When you go through TSA Pre-Check, you go through a regular metal detector.” “And instead of telling me that, you let me get anxious and red faced and did I mention anxious?” “And who held your hand through the line and helped you be brave?” “What you have is a being needed kink. That’s what you have,” I told her very haughtily. I was feeling haughty, I guess. I’m used to feeling bratty (though I’ve only been bratty once in my whole life; really), and sometimes I feel sassy (which is why the love of my life calls me a sassmuffin, which aren’t actual muffins if you ever go into a bakery and try to order one at your wife’s suggestion, which is a thing I never did and that she hasn’t reminded me of at least once a year ever since; really), and once I even got mouthy (true story). “I have a kink for blushy redheads who cling to me when they’re nervous, and lucky for me I married one.” “You took unfair advantage of the airport security process … which is designed to keep us safe. You should take it much more seriously … and patriotically.” She chortled at that. At me! Frigging chortler not taking security seriously. Hmmph! “How’s your bottom feel,” is what she asked instead of acknowledging the rightness of my position and dashing off a letter of apology to TSA. “It hurts.” Okay, maybe it just tingled a little. “It doesn’t hurt.” “No, but still. Was that really necessary?” “It was just enough to remind you to be a good girl on the plane. It’s twelve hours. What if there’s turbulence? What if a flight attendant won’t let me spank you in the galley? A preemptive spanking in the airport has been shown to decrease the risk of naughty little girls making bad choices on airplanes by almost 30%. I showed you the article.” “Hmmph! You had ChatGPT write that ‘research.’” “And it gave you another chance to practice changing your own diaper.” Mary smirked when she said that. Didn’t even try to hide it. All week long she’s been making me wear diapers at least part of the day and supervising me changing myself. She made a big production out of it too. “Daffy,” she called out all dulcet toned like she’s made of sugar and sunshine, “could you come downstairs? I need to talk about our trip.” I was there in a flash cuz I’m speedy and because ‘I need to talk’ is an ominous phrase. “We’re still going, right?” “Of course. Come sit next to me.” “She sat down with a growing suspicion,” I quietly narrated to myself. “No need to be suspicious.” “Our heroine forgets sometimes that Mary has ears like a German Shepherd.” “This is serious,” she said, which made me take it seriously. “We’re going to be going to a lot of museums, and we’ll be in crowds and unfamiliar places.” “I’ll wear my mask, like I said.” It was actually my idea cuz even pre-Covid every time I took a trip abroad I came back with some exotic upper respiratory thing. One type a woman coughed on the back of my head in line for a museum and I was sick by the time I got back to the hotel and stayed sick for three months. True story. “I know, sweetie, I know. What I want to talk about is making good choices.” That’s when I rolled my eyes so hard I gave myself a little headache. “We’re gonna be around priceless works of art and a lot of people. You need to be on your best behavior.” “We’re in luck cuz I’m always on my best behavior.” “Well, I know you try your best. There will be lots of dangers for a little girl like you on our trip.” “I’m not a little girl.” But like she even heard me. “You could get hit by a car. You could get lost. You could get stolen.” “Well, I am highly portable.” Cuz I’m small and light, which is also how Mary can yank me over her lap so fast all I can do about it is go, “Woah! Marrrry!” SPANK! “Are going to listen and take this seriously, or do I need to spank your bare bottom for you first?” “I’ll listen!” SPANK! “And you can do it without the sass. We’re going to be in unfamiliar, crowded places full of strangers and breakables. When I tell you we need to hold hands, you will hold onto my hand. Is that clear?” “Yes.” Gotta tell y’all, holding Mary’s hand is not, like, a burden to me. I kinda really sorta definitely enjoy it o so very much. You might even say holding hands is how our relationship started. I mean, her yanking me off my feet and over her knee without so much as a ‘wanna spanking?’ is how it actually started technically, but for polite company, it was love at first handhold. “And I need to know where you are at all times. I’m putting an AirTag in your pocket every single day so I can track you on my phone.” We’re already signed up on Find My Friend. I think she just likes the idea of tagging me; if we were into puppy play, I’m pretty sure she’d have had me chipped by now. “You’re going to stay within ten feet of me when we’re out in crowded places.” “Okay.” “And you’re going to use your inside voice when we’re inside.” “Yeah.” Duh; that’s why it’s called an inside voice. “And you get one warning about bad choices. Second time, I’m spanking your bottom. I’m bringing the hairbrush and your paddle.” It’s. Not. Mine! It’s hers!!! She uses it; I get it used on me. It’s hers! “I’ll take you to the nearest lady’s room, pull your pants down, and turn you over my knee. Capisc?” “Capisco.” “Daphne Ann?” “That means ‘I understand.’” “O. Good girl doing your Italian lessons.” As I was getting off her lap, I rolled my eyes so hard the other way that my headache went away. Weird. Or maybe it wasn’t that but that she said the magic words, i.e., she called me a good girl and I went squeeeee inside (Squeeeeee! Mary thinks I’m a good girl! Life is so satisfying and awesome! Squeeeeee!) And I don’t mind her rules. For firsties, I knew she was gonna relax those rules cuz it’s a lot of work enforcing them. For twosies, I’m an excellent rule follower. Even when I’m breaking rules, which I never do, I almost always know I’m breaking them, which means it doesn’t count as rule breaking because reasons. Mary disagrees, but I only go along with it to humor her and cuz she makes me. But she only makes me cuz I leave her no choice, for instance when I say things like, ‘O yeah? Make me!’ and cuz many years ago during our courtship I specifically said, ‘I want you to be in charge. You have my consent from here on out to set the rules and discipline me when I don’t follow them.’ It was something to that effect, anyway. “One other thing. Your diapers on the trip.” “But we’re not taking any diapers to Europe,” is what I said cuz it seemed wiser than throwing a temper tantrum (which would’ve been my first tantrum ever cuz I’m o so very good inside and out; really). “We’re crossing a lot of time zones. Do you know what time zones are?” Me giving Mary my not-impressed-face. “Well, it’s going to be a big adjustment, and it’s gonna make you feel funny. It’s called jet lag.” “You can’t be serious. I’m not wearing diapers the whole time.” “I didn’t say the whole time, but if I did, you would yes. Do you know why?” I knew but didn’t wanna say. “Daphne Ann Taylor?” Ooo, my whole name; she means business. “Cuz you said so.” “That’s right. We have long flights, long train rides, long lines, jet lag, and beds we don’t own. You’ll wear a diaper when I decide you need to wear a diaper, and you won’t argue with me when I decide, when I check your diaper, or when I change your diaper. Clear?” I was not, as some people who are mean and dishonest and are always traducing my sterling character (which is never less than dignified and poised and the very picture of equanimity yet never coming off as aloof) making my poutiest pouty face ever. Nor did I cop an attitude or have an attitude; nor did my ‘yes’ in response drip with attitude. Except the attitude of grace, for I am graceful in all my movements and mannerisms. Really. Mary made one of her I have-to-make-her-understand faces. “Let’s go,” she said, taking me by the wrist and leading me somewhere. I didn’t drag my feet or try to pull my wrist back or whine, “No! I don’t wanna spanking!” But if I did, I did so gracefully. And I was poised the whole time. And equanimous. And stuff. And things too. “And you won’t get a spanking if you mind me.” Also “I’ll mind!” “I know you will.” Into the kitchen she pulled me, where that damn wooden spoon lives. The Balsa Bitch, I always call her when no one with permission to spank me is around or ever cuz some of them hear seemingly every naughty (so they say) word I utter. “Stand here, hands on your head.” Who’s a good rule follower? Me! So I stood there with my hands on my head like a sucker while Mary turned the tap on. “I didn’t say any bad words! Please don’t wash my mouth out! Pleeeeeeasee?” Good thing I didn’t beg cuz that would’ve been pathetic and stuff. “Hold perfectly still,” Mary said. In the years I’ve known Mary, I’ve learned that she’s a ninja, a coyote, a sorceress, a so-and-so, a lawyer, and a politician. Apparently she’s also a wild west gun fighter cuz she yanked the nozzle from the sink, spun, and fired right at my shorts. “Mary!” “Hold. Still.” “Are you crazy?” Satisfied with my wetness, she put the nozzle back, and like she was the sane, reasonable person in the room (which she wasn’t and hardly ever is!) said to me, “How do you feel right now with wet pants and warm water running down your legs onto the floor?” Well, good thing I’m a wordsmith cuz I was feeling o so many emotions and had all the words I needed to describe them: confused, upset, miffed, and wet. Especially wet. “Wet,” I said (and definitely dripping with attitude that time). “Imagine that’s little girl pee that just came gushing out of you while standing in line for a museum cuz you just couldn’t hold your tinkles anymore?” “All those people would be staring at you, and they’d be a lot less understanding than me. I understand you’re just a little girl. They’d see a grown woman who just wet her pants!” “I’m not a little girl!” “What’s worse – having an accident in a diaper where no one can see, or having an accident in your undies so everyone can see?” “I’m not gonna have accidents!” “O, sweetie,” she said like the most loving, understanding person ever and stepped right through the puddle she made to give me the most loving hug ever. “I wanna believe that too. I really do. But we can’t take that chance. Every diaper I put you in comes off wet.” “Cuz you make me,” I didn’t say pleadingly with my emotions so on edge I was on the edge of weepiness. “Whatever you have to believe to be brave, Daffodil. You know I don’t judge you. I’m just trying to protect you, and I’m going to even if it makes you mad at me sometimes.” “Marrry!” “That’s right; your Mary will always keep you safe.” And I didn’t silently give in. Not true. If you hear otherwise, firmly correct that person with a throat punch. What really happened is I went, “Hmmph! Fine. Friggin’ fine.” See? Nothing silent about it at all, which would just be pathetic. Mary stepped back, keeping a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll see it’s really for the best.” “But I won’t be in diapers the entire trip, right?” “No, just when it might be tricky to take you to the restroom and at bedtime, at least until we get adjusted to the time change.” “Promise?” “I promise.” And then she actually held out a pinky; what I could do but wrap my pinky around hers? One might say doing so constitutes my agreement, but I prefer to think of it as constituting her commitment. I mean, it’s a pinky promise! That means something! Or at least it does among honorable people, and Mary is nothing if not stalwart. “Now,” she continued cuz of course she wasn’t done with her farce, “we might go places where there isn’t a restroom I can help you in. Probably not, but it could happen, and it will for sure happen on the plane. You’ve never changed your own diaper. It’s just not something little girls like you should be doing, but we can’t have you sitting in a wet diaper the whole plane ride.” “I have to wear it on the plane?!?” “Of course, hun. You’re gonna be going to sleep on the plane, and your bedwetting has gotten to be four and even five times a week.” “Cuz you make me wear diapers four and even five nights a week sometimes.” “I know it’ll be scary and uncomfortable for you, but you’re probably going to have to change your own diaper in the airplane lavatory.” Years of this ridiculousness and I’ve never changed my own diaper. The reasons are several. Firstly, they’re not my diapers; they are Mary’s diapers, and it just so happens I’m the one wearing and wetting them. Item B, Mary has made it abundantly clear that if I ever take (breathing through my teeth right now using the first-person possessive for the sake of literary clarity) my diaper off, she’ll spank me with the bath brush until I stop crying. Holy heccin butt wounds. And reason nope-never-absolutely-not-I-refuse-I-reject-I-disown-I-repudiate, changing my diaper myself would be actively participating in the diaper stuff, which could be (and would deliberately be) misconstrued by Mary as accepting – nay, enjoying – the diapers. “I don’t want to put them on myself,” I said. “I will if I can, but it might not be possible.” “Then I just won’t wear a diaper on the plane.” She didn’t even reply to that verbally. She just tightened her lips at me. “Fine, but I won’t wet it.” “It’s twelve hours. I could double diaper you in extra thick diapers, but it would be obvious to everyone you’re a little girl who still needs potty pants. Would you like to do that instead?” “Urgh! Fine, I’ll change myself.” “When I say to.” “What?” “I’ll check your diaper, and when I say you need a change, I’ll send you off to the lavatory with a new diaper.” I didn’t respond verbally to that. I just briefly sighed and slowly blinked as if to say, ‘lord give me patience with this one.’ “Can I go change into dry clothes now?” “Yes, living room.” Longer sigh; closed my eyes; took a deep breath. “Why?” Cuz my clothes live in the bedroom. “To practice diapering yourself, silly. You don’t wanna wing it, pardon the pun, at 35,000 feet.” “You’ve been planning that pun for days; I know it.” “Come,” she said, this time taking me by the hand and walking me back to the living room (at least I’d stopped dripping; #winning?) straight to the side table. “We’re gonna pack you a little changing kit in your carry-on with fresh diapers, wipes, and a little powder.” She bent down to pick up the basket of changing supplies she’s kept in the living room lo these past years. “Alright; let’s see what you got.” “Here? In front of you?” “Of course, silly goose. If I can change your diaper, I can certainly watch you diaper yourself. First step is taking off those wet shorts and undies. I know you can do that part yourself.” If my life were an open-world video game, there’d be stats for miles walked, miles driven, and hours spent bare bottomed in our living room. I took my wet things off and unfolded a diaper. “Gotta wipe first, silly.” “But I’m already clean.” I was already clean and then I got cleaner when she hosed me down. If she thought I was clean up that puddle (that Suzy was probably rolling in), she had another thing coming. TBD what that thing was gonna be, but it was on it’s way. Really. “But you’ll be coming out of a peepee diaper when you change yourself. If it will help, you can pull your wet shorts and undies back up, and I’ll watch you wet them in the bathtub. Will that help? Wetting your underpants so it feels more real? Cuz we can go do that.” “No.” “Then show Mommy how you wipe yourself.” Mary talks about that little spot on my color bone that turns red when I’m aroused. Well, it was under my shirt so we’ll never know. But Mary’s red cheeks, her lascivious, she-wolf grin – she was getting her jollies watch me change into a diaper. She literally leaned forward when I was wiping myself as if to get a better view. All she didn’t do was lick her lips “Don’t forget your bottom,” she added ever so helpfully. I didn’t even point out that I have never and will never do that in a diaper cuz she would’ve said something like. ‘You never know’ or ‘and let’s hope it stays that but just to be safe’ or ‘a just-in-case wipe is always good for a little girl like you, unless you want me to start wiping you every time you use the potty.’ I know she would’ve said one or all of those things (and other things!) cuz she always always always wipes my butt when she changes my diaper. And the wipe has always always always shown how unnecessary that is except for this couple times when Mary decided to be extra thorough (meaning spear me on the end of her wipe-wrapped finger) or this one time I don’t wanna talk about so shut up. “Might help to squat down so you can reach all the way back, baby.” I was on the verge of being on the verge of tears, and worst of all, my humiliation kink didn’t hate it as much as the rest of me did. “Now a little powder on your bumbum, or you can sprinkle some on your diaper.” I did the former and wiped my hand on my shirt, leaving a powder print. Won’t do that again. Mary gets zero credit for making me practice just cuz I learned something; in fact, she gets zero credit for anything ever. “Putting your diaper on yourself is the tricky part. You can do it sitting down on the toilet lid, but I think it’ll be easier if you’re standing.” She got up and steered me – diaper in hand, lady parts out – to the wall. “What you do is unfold the diaper …” I did. “Bring it behind you and hold it against the wall with your back …” I did. “And bring it between your legs.” I did. “Now pull it up and see if it’s too high or too low.” “Um, I think it’s …” “Lemme,” she said and took the front of the diaper, pressing it to my waist. “You got it on the first try! High five!” It. Was. A. Reflex! Of course I didn’t mean to high five her for getting the diaper right the first time. “Okay,” she said, “you finish up.” I unfolded the wings. “Um, which tapes do I do first?” “Always the bottom ones. Right, left. And then the top ones; left, right. And you’ll get a better fit if you use your left hand to do the right one on top.” And done. No celebrating. “Lemme check how you did.” She checked the waist, she checked the leg gathers, and she patted my butt just cuz. “Feels good to me. How does it feel to you?” “Fine.” “Not too tight or too loose?” “No.” “Then you did a very good job, sweetie! Good girl!” Don’t squee don’t squee don’t squee … Squeeeeeeeeeeeee! Dammit! Stupid internal monologue betraying me just cuz the one and only Mary, love of my life, called me a good girl. And why is my lip trembling? Wtf, body? She’s been teasing you for a half-hour and made you do something you’ve gone refused to do for three years and it’s just the start of having to wear a diaper on our European vacation. O yeah. Should I cry? Yes, but only a little sniffle and a tear or two. So I did that. “Aww, my baby girl is having some big feelings.” She put her arm around me and steered me to the couch, sitting down so I could flop myself into her lap and bury my head in her chest. “You were very brave,” she said and kissed my hair. “And you did such a good job. I know you like Mommy changing your diapers, so you’ll only have to do it yourself when it’s absolutely necessary.” Ya know, that didn’t help as much as maybe she thought it would. “I don’t wanna wear diapers on our trip. I’m not …” I choked on the words “What? Use your words, honey.” “I’m not a … a diaper girl.” “You think only a diaper girl would wear diapers on her vacation? You’ve worn diapers on our vacations before.” “But not overseas.” “I promise you it doesn’t make you a diaper girl. It makes you my good little girl for doing as you’re told, and I know you like doing what I tell you.” “Yeah.” And you like it more when you do something you don’t wanna do because I told you to.” “Yeah.” “So it’ll be fun. I promise I’ll be very mindful of your feelings. Everything will be fine.” “(Sniffle).” “What that a yes sniffle?” “Mhmm.” “Mommy’s good girl … And even if it did make you a diaper girl, which it doesn’t, but even if it did, that would be okay. Do you know why?” I already disagree with the very premise of that question; politeness more than curiosity required I ask, “Why?” “Because I’ll always make sure everything is okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Mary, my mobile safe space. And the safest space is where I was right then, in her lap with my face buried in her chest, her arms around me and her cheek resting against the top of my head. It’s a pretty awesome space. “Okay … Mommy.” I looked up at her, and she was smiling one of her this-smile-of-perfect-contentment-doesn’t-reveal-how-happy-I-am-because-I-get-to-live-my-life-with-Daphne smiles. Pretty sure only ageplay can be so wholesome and dirty at the same time. I mean, a couple minutes ago she was telling me to squat so I could wipe my butt better, which she was only doing cuz sometimes she might not be able to do it for me, and now she was making eyes at me like I’m the whole universe and a bag of chips. I mean, I am, but she doesn’t make those eyes at me all the time (I think cuz she thinks it would go to my head or something, which is just silly since I’m the humblest person to ever be so awesome and so humble). I started to get up so I could throw those wipes (which were sitting on top my wet shorts - ew) away and put my clothes in the washer. “Where you going?” “To clean up.” “I got one more rule to tell you.” “Okay.” “Our hotel rooms will have bidets in them. They are not toys.” “Ewwww! Mary, we have a bidet attachment upstairs.” And from experience, I’ll just say that if you’re gonna play with one, the water pressure in ours beats anything I’ve sat on in Europe. First time I tried it after it was installed I wasn’t sitting on it, which was good cuz I’d have done myself a permanent injury (it shot clear across the bathroom!). “And I have a surprise for you.” “Is it the kind I’ll like?” You won’t believe this, but sometimes her surprises are not very welcome. True story. “I got us upgraded to first class.” “Omuhgawd, really!?! How?” “We’ve been collecting points for more than three years and haven’t spent any.” First class on a domestic flight is not a big whoop. But on an overseas flight? Each seat is a little pod, and the seats lay flat and the blankets and pillows are better and there’s a gift bag of fancy lotions and the meals are better and there’s a sundae cart and the snacks are name-brand and the alcohol is complimentary and did I mention the seats lay flat so you can actually sleep and not wake up in pain!?! “This is so awesome,” I said when we’d boarded and they’d already given us a flute of champagne before hardly anyone else had even sat down. Then I whispered, “Do you think the other people in first class know we didn’t pay for it?” “Aww! Here I am at the birth of a brand new insecurity, and it’s so cute,” she said to me. “If it makes you feel better, we can afford it; we just spend our money more wisely.” I doubtfully asked, “Really? We can afford it?” “Uh-huh.” “Are we … rich?” Did I miss us getting rich? I miss some details but I’m pretty good at the big picture (and the details) and like to think I’d notice getting rich. “No, sweetie, we’re not rich.” “Then since when can we afford to fly first class overseas?” “Since I got a big promotion two years ago. Our lifestyle didn’t change; we didn’t buy a big house or fancy cars. How is this news to you? You look at our bank accounts.” “I just … never really thought about it that way.” “Must be nice being a little girl and not having to think about those things,” she teased me. “You didn’t answer me at the gate when I asked if you remembered our first trip together, what we did when we got to the hotel.” I remember. “Our first long trip; our first condo rental,” I observed cuz I’m clever like that. “Unpack first or go the grocery store first?” I was guessing unpack cuz she seems like the type and because she was rooting around in her suitcase already. She turned to me holding a paddle I’d never seen before, at least half an inch thick. I can’t remember if I gulped like in a cartoon or if I just said gulp cuz sometimes I recite my sound effects instead of making them. “This is a big step for us,” Mary said, sitting on a bar stool moment later with me dangled over her lap. “I gotta get a stool for my apartment; I love having you so you can’t touch the floor.” Which is the origin of that. “Big step,” I agreed. “Last week you said you wanted me to discipline you for real, an actual domestic discipline relationship with me in charge of why, when, and how you get spanked, and any other consequence I think you need. Remember?” Remember? Heck! Waiting on pins and needles for her answer! “Uh-huh.” “I’m willing to do that for you, but like I said when you asked, that means sometimes you’ll get spanked when you don’t wanna be, harder and longer than you wanna be, and for any reason I say or no reason at all. Are you still okay with that?” “Yes.” Gawd yes! Meg-Ryan-in-When-Harry-Met-Sally YES! “It’ll hurt a lot sometimes (SPANK!). It won’t be easy sometimes (SPANK!). It might seem unfair sometimes (SPANK!).” Am I crying already? Really? Yes really! That paddle friggin hurts! How much does it weigh!?! I mean, I’d been spanked by Mary when she was trying to make a point before, but damnnnn! “You need spankings, don’t you,” she asked me while paddling my bottom like a canoe. “(Sob sob sucking-in-air) Yes!” “You need this spanking, because I say you do, don’t you?” “Yes!” “When you’re naughty or make bad choices, I’m going to spank your bottom. You know that, don’t you?” She took some of the noises I was making for yes, I guess. “Bare bottom, over my knee. If you need a spanking, I’ll give you one. I’ll spank until you’re crying and kicking like a little girl. I’ll spank you on the spot if I decide an on-the-spot spanking is called for, and I’ll spank you again when we get home. You’ll learn to be the best-behaved girl there ever was or you’ll have a bruised butt every single day. And if other people find out – if people see your bright red butt on the beach this week or hear you crying through a spanking like you’re doing right now, then that’s just what will have to happen. Cuz you know I’ll be strict; I’ll spank hard; and I’ll spank as often as you need it to be the happy, good girl I know you are.” I left out the SPANK!s but they were there, like a hundred of them, and I was carrying on like a lesbian much taller and stronger than myself was beating my butt with a piece of tree cuz that’s what was happening. I sobbed over her knee for a good minute before I got myself under control. She was rubbing my butt, patiently waiting for me to be ready to talk. “So,” she said, “do you still want a full-time domestic discipline relationship?” “On one condition,” I choked out, tears still streaming down my face. “I get to throw that paddle in the ocean!” “Okay. But that’s the very last decision you get to make about your spankings so long as we’re together, unless you take back your consent.” “Okay.” “Every trip is kind of an anniversary because of that,” I said. “And this one is for our actual anniversary.” I went in for a kiss cuz I’m romantic like that and also a total Mary stan, but she was snagging the flight attendant’s attention before she could walk by. “Excuse me,” she said, dropping her voice to a stage whisper, “is there a disabled lavatory on board? Sometimes my wife needs help in the bathroom.” The attendant politely didn’t look at me so I got to turn tomato colored in the semi-privacy if my pod. Hmmph. “Yes, in both aisles. It’s the first lavatory in coach. If she needs it urgently and there’s a line, just buzz me.” “Thank you,” she said before turning back to me as the flight attendant walked on. “All that practice and you might not have to change your own diaper this trip after all.” “So. Mean.” She’s gonna take advantage of the ambient noise in every plane, airport, and crowded space to say stuff like that to me in public for two heccin weeks! “Ya know,” she said all faux nonchalantly, “after dinner is served and the cabin lights are off, if I got caught with my hand up your skirt, I’d just tell them I was checking your diaper.” O. My. Gawd. I hafta to respond to that quickly and clearly. “Germin flooperer!” “It’s so cute when you’re too flustered to make words. Just make sure you at least try cuz if you start saying ‘keyboard smash’ I’ll have to put your paci in your mouth every time I want to get you flustered. I brought your paci, by the way, if you want it during the flight.” “It’s gonna be a long flight,” I observed to no one. “It’ll be over before you know it. After dinner, we’ll get your pampers changed, and then Mommy will tuck you in with a movie until you fall asleep.” “Do you, um, think I can fit in your seat?” “We’ll try when it’s bedtime, but you might be too big to be a lap child.” “Hoosen hemfin.” “I know. Mommy knows.”

At three years old, girls are great. but once puberty hits...no thank you.

I have my doubts about those two escaping for long and Jane was done anyway so I can understand that she at least wants to give it a try. Anna keeping her head low for a whole month we will see how this goes, they probably try to find more reasons to extend her time or provoke her.

Is that now our new "technical term"???? 😆😆 "When did you last Moochie your diaper?"

But that's the thing about poopies, you never know what type is gonna come out and into your diapy.😁😅🤭😏♥️ That's why I always go with higher end diapys!😁😃😊♥️🥰🚼🍼👶

Maybe! Isabelle still has time to solve the mystery though, don't you think? I'm glad you're still enjoying the story! I confess the regression is not always consistent. I tried making a formula at one point, if you can believe it. But it was too hard to track and I got frustrated. I like your last questions, I've wondered the same myself! I cut your comment short here because quite frankly, I was a little too embarrassed to respond to all of it. I'll just say thank you, and share that my favorite part of writing this story has been meeting (even if digitally) a number of authors I have followed on this site for quite some time, yourself included now. I cut this portion of your comment out because it resonated with me, and I've been feeling alone with the thought. I have had the end planned since Chapter 2 or 3 about, and each time I get a chapter closer its bittersweet; I, like many others, have been so excited to read each chapter and go on this journey with Isabelle. Even though the end has been planned, everything between has been as much of a surprise to me as every other reader! But each chapter is a reminder that I am one closer to the end, and that makes me sad. I've never written a story before, so don't know if that's a common problem. But it is has been weighing on me, and I've been too shy? ashamed? flustered? to admit it publicly. Thanks for opening the door and letting me. I am trying to get another chapter done today, but it may be late/tomorrow, in case anyone is checking for an update.

What if the witch summoned strong magical nurses and transormed both rooms into nnurseries with cribs , changing tables, playpens, babyjumpers, waking them n morning, letting them out thhe crib to change their diapers, and dressinbg their day sshort in baby dresses all of their because they made obvious massive when pun diasable or cloth.if they want or need to leave their room for any reason they will be put a sttroller w ith five straps, wit nurse pushing the strller has full of newborn safe baby rattles on it. if the girl does not constany constanly play with her baby toys the stroller will bvegin immediately painfully spanking her.if it meal time the nurse will put a bib oncupent and will feed er baby food and baby formula, bufre burping her anywhere they need to class, grocery, shopping, class, even trips home their nurses will take them in carset and strollerss, before transforming their rooms into nursies intical to the one at school.when in therir rooms with nanny they are epect to play inn playpen full of newborn safe rattlles, or in their baby bouncers, and be down for a morning and afternoon naps at the end of babys nigj at 8pm they will be put safely lcked into their crib.

@OlympiczeroI've been trying to come up with the right words to put here to accomplish two things, the first is to adequately convey just how impressive the work you've done with this story is and the second is to not embarrass myself by fangirling all over you for entire paragraphs in the process, it's gonna be tough, not gonna lie. To preface all of this, I am not, historically speaking, the biggest fan of physical regression stories, but you’ve lovingly crafted a story that is so charming and compelling that I genuinely find myself excited to see a new chapter because of how well you've managed to draw things out to the point where my expectations are continually subverted without ever feeling forced or frustrating, which is very easy to have happen when a story goes on long enough. Your incorporation of magic/paranormal elements as the catalyst for the events of the story in a way that feels grounded and believable is, I think, the most impressive thing here, because it's very easy to have things become bombastic because magic and yet you keep things centered and realistic and I absolutely adore it and wish I had the ability to keep such discipline and focus in my own writing. The only problem I have is that I know this story will end at some point and despite it being one of the best and most satisfying reads on this board in a while, I will somehow still feel like I didn't get enough. Fantastic work all around, thank you for all your hard work and for sharing your talent with us.

Trying a critter caboose for the very first time.

Forgot title but there was a time travel film w a hermaphrodite, was both parents. Mercedes Lackey's Vape mar story the Last Herald Mage, has gay soulmates, and one later gets gangbanged. Laurell k Hamilton's series about Meredith Gentry, has fae three way sex! Lika Bowen wrote series The Shadow: 1 gay, 1 transvestite, 1 bi... Tanya Huff, the Fire's Stone, has a thief and a gay prince. Warren Rochelle, Harvest of Changelings, 4 half fae, 2 pair up are boys but one abused by his dad. Joan D Vinge, catspaw: telepath gets raped to get evidence on the guy.

Keeping secrets Part 5 Tracy woke up with a pounding headache and a tongue that felt and tasted like she had been licking a dirty carpet. She carefully opened her eyes and surveilled her surroundings. She was in her underwear on the sofa in Jessie and Diego's tiny living room. Outside the window the sun was rising over a pile wrecked cars in a display that would probably be quite artistic if it was a photo or a painting. But right now it was just glaringly painful. Tracy picked what she hoped was a bit of lint out of the corner of her mouth. The previous evening was a bit of a blur. She remembered using a camera drone to film almost four hours of footage of Jessie and Diego driving recklessly. Jessie had been true to her word and although there had been a couple of cases of her flashing random pedestrians or other drivers, she had stayed dressed most of the time. While Jessie and Diego had 'blown off some steam' afterwards, Tracy and Kat had had a chance to geek out. It turned out that they shared an interest in what Tracy liked to call 'circumventing computer security systems'. After that, they had ended up watching playlists of hacking scenes from old movies and drinking whenever there was bullshit hacking on the screen. After a particularly bad movie, they had taken a little break to look for snacks. Kat had gone on a little rant in which Tracy learned that she hadn't actually programmed digital drugs, but rather designed the chips themselves, making sure that they'd burn out after one use to keep people coming back for more. When they had gone back to their drinking game, the playlist had reached Hackers. Tracy could remember the first twenty minutes. Vaguely. After that, everything was worryingly blank. She was about to get up when her feet bumped into Kat lying under a blanket on the floor next to the sofa. She groaned and opened her eyes to peer up at Tracy. "You look like I feel," she croaked. "Mm-hmm," was all Tracy managed. Kat pushed the blanket aside and got up, revealing that she was completely naked. She left the blanket on the floor and shuffled towards the bathroom, giving Tracy a full view of the circuit board-pattern tattooed across her entire back. Tracy's brain slowly began adding two and two together, constantly getting to five. "Kat?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. Kat stopped and looked back at her. "We didn't..." Tracy paused. "Did we?" "Don't think so," Kat replied, not sounding entirely sure. "You're not really my type." With Kat out of the room, Tracy looked around for her clothes, finding her jeans bundled up next to the sofa and her t-shirt stuck halfway down between two of the cushions. She dressed as quickly as she managed and tried to sneak out. "Well, well, well. Doing the walk of shame, are we?" Tracy stopped, just standing there, still holding her shoes. She had forgotten that Jessie was one of the earliest risers she had ever known. It had made sleepovers really annoying when they were girls. "I..." "I mean, you two looked so cute all snuggled up together last night," Jessie continued Tracy felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "I... We... We didn't..." Jessie laughed. "I know. I'm just fucking with you. You were passed out across her lap while she was yelling at the screen. Wanna see the pictures?" Jessie held up her phone to show Tracy a picture of her and Kat on the sofa. Thankfully they were both dressed, although Kat's shirt was fully unbuttoned. "I hate you." Tracy sat down on a crate to put her shoes on. "I know," Jessie replied, still grinning. "I guess I should have warned you that Kat likes to be naked. And I don't mean just when she sleeps. Diego's parents lived in this weirdo, nudist, hippie commune in Brazil. His sister still does." "Uh-huh." Tracy tied her shoes and stood. "Anyway, are you staying for breakfast?" Tracy thought about it, but quickly came to the conclusion that it'd just be too awkward. "Thanks for the offer, but I have to get back to the office." "Duty calls, huh?" Tracy smiled and shrugged. "You know, I need money for my toys." "Speaking of toys, Kat said that the suitcase'll be ready on Tuesday or Wednesday." "Good. I think I might need it again soon." Tracy dug her keys out of her pocket and got in the car. "See you in a couple of days then. Oh, and make sure you don't use my name in the credits of your movie. I really don't need any job offers like last time." Tracy's drive back to the office was uneventful and when she pulled into the parking garage, Jamal was on duty as always. "Anyone looking for me?" Tracy asked. Jamal stopped biting the tip of his pencil and looked up from his crossword puzzle. "Not that I've noticed. Eight letters, 'state', ends with 'O, blank, A'?" "Paranoia?" Tracy suggested. "Very funny." Jamal raised the barrier and Tracy rolled past him and down the slope. Just as she rolled up the window, she heard him exclaim "Oklahoma!". When Tracy opened the door to her office, she was greeted with a gust of warm, stuffy air. Oh great. The air conditioning is on the fritz. Again. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket on a chair as she crossed the room to her tiny apartment which made up the rest of her office space. She gave the air conditioning a whack, hoping it'd turn back on, but no luck. After leaving a message with her landlord about the air conditioning, Tracy opened a window and went to take a shower. Twenty minutes later, Tracy was sitting at her desk wearing nothing but a towel. Despite the shower, she was already almost as sweaty as the bottle of water in her hand. The desk fan was blowing across a tray full of ice cubes, creating a slightly cooler breeze, but it was fighting a losing battle against the heat. She checked her email, deleting the spam that made it past her filters. When that was done, there were only three left. One of them was for Alexandra Pavlova. Event Horizon had some additional details from their meeting. Tracy ignored that one. The other two were more interesting. One was from Michael Hunt, a friend of hers. He had a straight-forward surveillance job that he didn't have time for, so he wondered if she wanted it. Mike had three big problems: He didn't see how his name made it hard for people to take him seriously. Tracy had told him several times that he ought to change it. He also loved gambling, although he wasn't very good at it, and he always fell for married women. That meant he spent a lot of time hiding from bookies and angry husbands. Tracy wasn't sure which one it was now, but Mike was a decent guy so she replied and set up a meeting early the next morning. The last email was from Mrs. Devereux, asking if there was any new information. Tracy tried to keep her answer as vague as possible, in case her husband read the email. She said that some of her suspicions seemed valid but that she didn't have any solid proof yet. She added that she would let her know as soon as there were any major developments. Tracy pulled up the GPS tracker which showed her that Dennis' car hadn't moved since she had checked the previous day. I guess the Linwood incident gave him pause. Tracy figured that in order to catch Dennis, she would have to go undercover, so the rest of the day was spent creating a new online profile. She decided to make this one a 21-year-old foreign exchange student recently arrived from Turkmenistan. That'd be obscure enough that on-the-spot background questions would be easier to bluff her way through. Also, Tracy had a Russian translation program that should do a good job with the language. After doing a few searches for common Russian names, she settled on Ivana Kuznetsova, literally translating to Jane Smith. Tracy smiled a little at that. When she was finally done, the sun was setting and the temperature was finally dropping to a more comfortable level. Tracy shut down her laptop and stood. A thought bubbled to the surface of her mind: The memory of Kat walking naked and unashamed across the room in Jessie and Diego's living room. She had seemed really relaxed. I wonder... Tracy looked at the windows to make sure the blinds were closed. Then she undid the towel. It felt strange to be naked like this outside her bathroom or bedroom. Tracy walked across the office to her kitchen to throw the empty bottle in the recycling bin. It didn't really feel liberating or relaxed. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so self-conscious. Getting dressed, Tracy soon felt more comfortable. I guess I'm not moving to a weirdo, nudist, hippie commune any time soon. Knowing that she would have to stay close to Dennis' computer to keep an eye on his activity, Tracy realised she would need some supplies. Half an hour later, her van was fully stocked for an extended stakeout. A box of energy bars, half a dozen bottles of water, another half dozen bottles of Wrath, an industrial-strength energy drink, and a big bag of ice for the cooler. The only thing missing was her remote control rig. Hopefully she wouldn't need it. ~~~ The meeting next morning turned out to be a waste of time. It had taken Tracy less than ten minutes to find out that the client was a stalker with a restraining order. Tracy found it a little odd since Mike usually vetted his clients better than this. After leaving a message about it for Mike, Tracy left to do some stalking of her own. Tracy parked in the same alley as the last time and used a suction-cup mount to set up a small dish antenna on the roof of the car. Turning on the computer, she started looking through the numerous Wi-Fi-networks available. It didn't take long to find the one belonging to Smith & Smythe, and it took even less time to connect to it. They really should take their cyber security more seriously. Only minutes later, the blue dot representing Dennis' car moved in from the edge of the map. It pulled into the parking garage and stopped. Tracy kept an eye on the computers connected to the network and a little while later, his computer appeared on the list. She set up a terminal window to display the websites it connected to and sat back to wait. Now, let's see how careless you are. Several hours later, Tracy concluded that Dennis was indeed a very careful man. His computer hadn't visited anything even remotely suspicious. He had even worked through the lunch break. Tracy fumbled with the funnel as she squatted over a bottle in the back of the van. Sometimes she envied men. Peeing during stakeouts was a lot easier for them. She put the cap back on the bottle and pulled her pants back up. Then she opened the door and looked both ways before tossing the bottle into one of the containers along the wall. Based on the smell in the alley, she wasn't the first to relieve herself there, but she refused to pee out in the open. There were limits to what she was willing to do, even when on a stakeout. Dennis worked late and didn't shut down his computer until almost six o'clock. When he did, he went straight home, only stopping at a convenience store. The next days passed in the same way and Tracy found that her tolerance for boredom was nearing its limit. But at least she was getting a lot of practice with the funnel. She spent the days reading, only looking up every time her computer dinged to indicate that Dennis visited a new site. It was nearing the end of work on Friday afternoon, and Tracy was almost done with 'The Long Goodbye'. Her stomach rumbled and she looked at the remaining energy bars with loathing. She swore that once she was done with this job, she was not eating another one of those for a long time. Tracy was still debating whether to ignore the hunger or force down one more of the grainy abominations. Before she could make up her mind, however, her computer indicated that Dennis had disconnected from the network. Tracy got up and quickly took down the antenna from the roof before getting in behind the wheel and waiting for Dennis's car to start moving. It only took a few minutes before the blue dot moved out onto the street. Following at a safe distance, Tracy's heart jumped as Dennis took an unexpected turn, not heading home. "Finally," Tracy said to the GPS. "It certainly took you long enough." Dennis drove for a while longer before pulling in to the parking lot next to a nondescript brick building. Tracy knew exactly what kind of place this was. It was another place like the Linwood. The big difference was that she had been part of the team that had set up the security system there. Hopefully, the back door into their system would still work. While Dennis made his way inside, Tracy lay back in the beanbag and grabbed the keyboard. She plugged a thumb drive with her fake personal information into the slot and connected to the hotel's network. She didn't have to wait long before she saw Dennis' computer connect too. She even recognised the address he was going to. "Okay Dennis, let's see what you're hiding from your wife." Tracy reached for the fat spiral wire and plugged it into her skull. Then she copied the address and hit enter. There was the annoying tingle of an incoming signal and Tracy closed her eyes, letting her body grow heavy and numb. She found herself floating in a featureless darkness. No, not even floating; there was an absence of sensation so she wasn't really doing anything. The only sensory input was a slowly pulsing 'Connecting' in front of her. Then the darkness unfolded itself into what looked like a giant patchwork quilt. Two of patches said 'Log in' and 'New user' in softly glowing letters. Well, I'll give them points for retro chic. I haven't seen that kind of login page in ages. Tracy reached out and touched the 'New user'-button. It morphed into a form already filled out with the personal information of Ivana Kuznetsova. She noticed all options to display personal information were off by default. Discreet too. Nice touch. The payment options were next. It was either pay per hour or a monthly subscription. That was a no-brainer for Tracy who prepaid for an hour with the debit card she had attached to the profile. It took a second for the form to process the payment, but soon enough, an avatar builder appeared. These were standardised across most VR websites, so Tracy just opted to use the avatar she had already made and stored on the thumb drive and pressed the 'Enter site' button. It flashed red and made a buzzing sound, but nothing else happened. Then Tracy noticed an entry that hadn't been filled out, asking 'small' or 'large'. Going through this many servers is bound to slow things down. A low-poly avatar is probably faster. Tracy checked the 'small' box which promptly expanded into 'Option 1' and 'Option 2'. There was no explanation what the difference between the two were, but Tracy figured that the first option was the baseline experience. Since she just needed to gain access to the site to snoop around, she decided to go with that. Tracy started the tracking program in a small terminal window, and saw it was poised to leap into action as soon as she was inside. Then she pressed 'Enter site' again. This time the quilt leapt at her, enveloping her in a warm darkness. When the darkness lifted, Tracy found herself sitting on the floor in a bedroom. A very oversized bedroom. Looking down, she saw she was wearing just a t-shirt and a big, puffy diaper. "What the hell?!?"

Well, nothing tonight. My stomach seems calm at the moment. 3 on standby. Thankfully, not this time. I don’t mind pooping my diaper at home, on my nights off. I’d rather not at work, especially the first half of the night. However, there were quite a few trips to go potty, and at least twice where the cordless phone went off while popping. Yessir. 😝

Chapter 3: Processing The LETO Syndicate – LittleFallenPrincess “Room 15.” Was called out so the entire hall could hear it. We were brought out of our shock when we remembered that we had been assigned that room just before we came in. “Wait… that’s us.” I said for the both of us, as Sarah’s mouth was currently occupied. We both turned to see a matron-ly woman standing at the front where the Headmistress stood just a few moments ago, with the microphone close to her mouth. “Nanny Alice, can you please take your charges to get processed first. They’ve both earned a strike so they have the honours of being the first ones processed, along with a special treat.” She said. I had a feeling the ‘special treat’ would be something not-so-nice… so I braced myself as our ‘Nanny’ stood up, took the brakes off our stroller, then took the dummy out of Sarah’s mouth. After taking a few heavy breaths, Sarah looked up at me. “Oh my… it really is a stroller.” Sarah said in shock as she realised the same thing I had. I hung my head in shame as we were wheeled down the aisle and out of the hall. With everyone’s eyes staring at us. I peeked up and saw a mix of reactions. Some were laughing and giggling… but I knew they’d quickly regret that, as the other lot had it right, the ones who weren’t laughing. They were looking at us in fear. Because they knew… this was going to happen to them very soon. “Come on girls. Let's get you down to the processing centre. We just need to run a few tests, give you a little punishment and then get you taped into a nice thick nappy. Then I can show you to your new nursery!” Our Nanny said, as we walked out of the assembly hall and into the hallway. “So… we share a nursery?” I asked. “Oh yes. Two babies per nursery. It means less Nannies, and allows you to bond together in your regression. It also helps with punishments. If one of you is naughty…” “The other gets punished too?” Sarah asked, as if she knew what our Nanny was about to say. “Clever girl! Exactly. It encourages good behaviour and quickens the regression. I know you two had a teensy strike on the way, I heard about why you earned it. But I can tell… you are good girls. You’ll be good for me, right?” Nanny Alice said. We both looked down and said nothing. “Right?” Alice confirmed with more authority in her voice. “Yes.” We both mumbled. “Yes what?” “Yes… Nanny.” “That’s better. Good girls. That reminds me, you may refer to me as Nanny, or Nanny Alice. Never by just my name. Same goes for any other staff member here. Guards are ‘Sir’ or ‘Miss’. Other nannies have the same rules as I do. And the Headmistress… well she told you what you should refer to her as, just that. Got it girls?” “Yes… Nanny.” We both replied reluctantly. “D’aww… you’re such good girls! You are going to make your Mummies and Daddies so proud when we’re finished with you!” She said as she continued to push us down corridor after corridor of plain white walls and floor. Reaching the end of yet another boring corridor, I wondered how big this place was inside, as not only did it take longer than I thought to reach this ‘processing centre’, but also the fact I saw multiple elevators. Now… the building wasn’t that tall on the outside, which leads me to believe there must be more below us. What though… I was nervous to find out. As we neared the door at the end of the corridor, Sarah held her hand out and I quickly grabbed it for comfort. As soon as mine touched hers… it wasn’t as if all my fears had magically disappeared, that would be silly. But… it felt better. Less scary at least. Pushing the doors open, our Nanny greeted the woman dressed like a classic nurse who was sitting at the desk in the corner. And looking around, we had gone from white walls and white floors… to more of the same. Though this time, it had a bunch of medical equipment and an examination table so you know it really is a hospital. I wondered if they had added any colour anywhere. Surely the nurseries would be colourful? “Oh, is the assembly done already? I was expecting… more. But no worries! Time to get started I suppose!” The overly-cheery, middle-aged, blonde Nurse said as she stood up and grabbed some disposable gloves from a box on her desk. “Bring the little ones over to the table, will you Alice?” “No problem, Sheila.” Our Nanny replied to her, wheeling us over to the ominous examination table in the centre of the medical room. “Are these the ones with a strike already? Do you think they’ll resist?” “I think they are going to be very good girls… or else they’ll find out what happens to naughty babies. And they won’t like that…” Alice said, looking at us with a stern look on her face. “Don’t worry, their strike isn’t for resisting or being aggressive. Just a bit of backtalk on the bus.” “Oh that will be fine then. Poor babies… this punishment won’t be nice…” The Nurse said as she bent down over Sarah in the stroller and unbuckled her. I could see Sarah was thinking whether or not to fight back, but these two women were a lot bigger and stronger-looking than her, and even then… with so many guards… How was she going to get out? So in the end she nervously allowed the woman to lift her out of the stroller and gently place her on the examination table. I watched from my seat in the stroller, with Nanny Alice standing behind me, as the Nurse walked around the table to the other side so we had a full view of what was happening to Sarah. “You two need to get used to watching everything happening to the other. That includes changes, checks, and going potty.” Alice said from behind me, and immediately Sarah’s face turned bright red. No doubt mine was too, but at least I couldn’t see my own. “Exactly. So first… examination. Let’s get these icky scrubs off you.” The Nurse announced, expertly pulling Sarah’s pants off, then with no resistance, she took Sarah’s top off too, revealing a very naked Sarah, who was trying her best to cover up everything as best she could with her hands. “No getting shy. Lots of people here will get to see you like this. You’ll get less shy over time, don’t worry. I bet you’ll even end up as one of those babies who love to go nakey all the time and run around in just a nappy!” The Nurse giggled. I heard an audible gasp from Sarah as she looked at Alice in shock. Followed by another gasp as the Nurse spread her legs. “Little Sarah needs her hair down here removed. But other than that… she’s perfectly healthy.” She said. ‘Wait… how does she know she’s healthy?’ I looked to the side to see a large monitor that displayed all Sarah’s vitals, her weight, blood pressure, everything. Like… What the hell was this table? How advanced is the tech in here if it can scan someone laying down on a table in mere seconds? “Next… punishment. Sorry little one, but you earned it. It is a first strike, so I’ll go easy on you both. Especially for such a minor mistake.” The Nurse announced loudly so that I heard it too. Rummaging around in the table underneath Sarah, she pulled out something small… “What the hell is…” Sarah said, looking at it, confused. “Do I need to get your dummy for that mouth again? Don’t make me regret taking it out.” Alice warned. Sarah instantly shut her mouth as her eyes widened in fear. “That got her to behave. Did she already earn her quiet time dummy?” The Nurse asked Alice. “Oh yes. Talking during the assembly. I thought I would be nice and take it out as soon as we got out, but I’m quickly regretting that decision…” “How about a normal dummy?” “Normal…?” Before Sarah could finish that sentence, the Nurse pulled something out of her pocket and shoved it in Sarah’s mouth. Sarah was about to spit it out before the Nurse looked at her with a face that said ‘Go on… try. See what happens…’ “Sowwy…” Sarah said with a babyish lisp, no doubt thanks to the dummy in her mouth. At least this one allowed her some semblance of speech, unlike the one before, the one I also saw in other people’s mouths as we walked past them in the assembly hall. Those ones looked like they completely prevented speech. “Much better. Now… let's get that hair removed, then put this in you, then into a thick nappy.” The Nurse announced. “Inh nee?” Sarah said, too afraid to spit the dummy out of her mouth. Pulling out yet another thing from this magic examination table, the Nurse shook what looked to be a can or something, one like you’d see shaving cream in, and sprayed something into her hands, quickly rubbing them together. Upon closer examination, there was now some kind of foam, maybe shaving foam, that coated her hands. And with no warning, she lunged between Sarah’s open legs. Sarah screamed from behind her dummy as the Nurse applied this cream to her lower region. I couldn’t tell if it was cold or if it was actually causing her pain, but after a few seconds, she started calming down. Taking a baby wipe from the table, the Nurse wiped the foam away. “There we go… no more hair ever again for the little baby…” The Nurse exclaimed in delight. ‘Wait… did that just remove…’ Sarah looked down at her nether regions in shock. “Now… this is for your own good, sweetie…” The Nurse said as she applied what looked like lube to that thing she had taken from the table just before the hair stuff. And without warning or explanation… she shoved the small object… up… well… Sarah! “That’s a good girl. Be good for the nurse and maybe I’ll be nicer later when you need a change.” Alice said to the nervous-looking woman on the table. Sarah quickly looked at Alice in shock. “Whh?” She screamed. “What did you think that was? That was to help you go potty later, silly! That’s your punishment.” I looked up to see Alice grinning. “WHH DEH HLL?” “Quiet… otherwise I won’t change you immediately.” She warned Sarah. “That’s a good girl… just relax… now time for your first nappy!” The Nurse announced, once again reaching under the table, pulling out a large, thick white… pillow? No wait… it’s a nappy. An enormous nappy. As soon as Sarah took one look at it she started squirming and crying, but Alice must have been prepared for this as she quickly dashed over and grabbed the girl’s shoulders, holding her down in place on the table whilst the Nurse went to work unfolding the giant nappy. “Stop squirming sweetie… you’ll appreciate my generosity of changing you after your first accident. If you don’t stop squirming, I could leave you in it for the rest of the night.” Alice warned again. Sarah must have thought about the possibility of sitting in her own mess all night… just like I was currently doing… and she quickly decided to calm down. So she didn’t put up a fight as the nurse grabbed her legs and raised them so her butt left the table, nor did she fight when the Nurse slid the nappy underneath her and lowered her… cute… butt onto the soft padding. Nor did she fight when she was taped into it and lifted up. Sarah didn’t make a single noise or try to resist as she was carried over to the stroller and strapped back in. And now… it was my turn. Taking a page from Sarah’s book… I didn’t resist. I didn’t complain. I just accepted what was coming. I’d give no reason to piss Alice off, so she’d have no reason not to change me as soon as I inevitably messed. And just like Sarah, I was stripped, had the foam rubbed in (although they commented on how I had no hair down there already, which made me blush), the small object Sarah had received was also placed into my backside… which wasn’t entirely uncomfortable… and I was then lowered down onto the thick padding waiting for me. “You're a very good girl. And despite the little resistance from Baby Sarah at the beginning… I think it’s safe to say you both are. So as soon as you’ve gone poopies, you tell Nanny and I’ll clean you right up, okay sweeties?” Alice said to me and Sarah. We both just nodded shyly at the woman, hoping that the experience we were about to go through wasn’t… too traumatic. I looked down and realised that whilst I was in my own head and being distracted by Alice, the Nurse had managed to tape me into the nappy without me even noticing. “There we go. Oh! One last thing…” The Nurse said, rummaging around the table again. “Seriously… How much stuff is in this damn thing?” “I… have a question…” I asked, nervously. Alice looked at me sternly. “I have a question… Nanny?” I repeated, correcting myself this time, hoping that was the reason she wasn’t so friendly all of a sudden, and that I wasn’t pissing her off by just asking if I could ask a question. “That’s better. Go on sweetie. What do you want to ask.” Alice’s face went back to its smiley, happy, reassuring form. “How long until… umm…” “Until the thing in your little bum starts working? Oh… right about…” And as if she was fucking psychic, Sarah yelled out in pain, clutching her stomach. I looked over and noticed Alice hadn’t strapped her in fully like we were before, just the harness holding her in, her arms and legs were free to move this time. “Is… is she okay?” I asked. “Oh she’s fine. Just a bit of discomfort and then she’ll feel relieved. Same goes for you. Now… quickly. Back into your stroller.” As Nanny Alice walked over, I turned around to see the Nurse looking at me, smiling. And like a damn ninja, she pulled out and slipped something into my mouth. Something that now occupied most of my mouth. I sucked at it… and it confirmed what I figured. A dummy. Just like Sarah’s. “There we go! Matching pink dummies for my little princesses! Thank you, Sheila.” Alice said, scooping me up off the table into her arms, and carrying me over to the stroller. Placing me down next to Sarah, she buckled me in and just like the other ‘princess’, I was given free use of my arms and legs. Although I assume that my arms will be occupied in no time, clutching my stomach like Sarah was currently doing. “Better get out there. If you time it right…” The Nurse grinned at Nanny Alice. “Yes. Thank you, can’t miss this!” Alice replied. ‘What… what does she mean?’ I thought to myself as Alice pulled at the brakes and started pushing us back out the way we came in. But as soon as she opened the door… it was no longer bare and empty. And my stomach started gurgling as I looked at the queue of occupied strollers and their Nannies all lined up against the wall… all looking at Sarah and I. ========================================================= 😇 I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next four chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of LETO Syndicate every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

My dream of being incontinent came true, sort of. With the help of a stent I am incontinent as long as I want. And that is pretty much 24/7 over the last few months. Like you I find the idea of being irreversibly incontinent very exciting but I know that sometimes life itself can be quite stressful e.g. when you are about to get fired, or you have to visit a family member who is terminally ill or you have to attend a funeral. Being incontinent and having to wear diapers is simply too much then. At least for me it is. That is why I prefer using stents. So my advise to anyone who wants to be incontinent is to wear a stent 24/7 for at least a year. Then you will know what it is like and whether or not you want it to be irreversible.