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justforfun

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Everything posted by justforfun

  1. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08PDLWL65 Duvet clips. Basically tiny little magnetic clips that you can't remove without the magnet key. They're small enough that they can be used to secure a onesie... or pajamas... or cloth diapers...
  2. I also answered in the other thread... I had untrained myself for bedwetting, and then when my life situation changed (got married, had a kid), I made a significant and conscious effort to re-train after about 12 years of bedwetting. Over the course of a year, during which my daughter graduated from diapers with no issues, I made every effort, talking to doctors (no, I didn't tell them the root cause...), trying alarms, medication, behavioral changes, and so on. Everything that one would do to try to help a bedwetting child, and then some. Several times I thought I was successful. My bedwetting tends to be kind of bursty anyway, so a week of dry nights can look like success... until things re-start. It was frustrating because after a few dry nights I'd stop wearing a diaper, which would be fine for a few days... maybe a week or two... until I'd restart wetting, typically at a most inopportune time. A wet bed in a hotel was kind of the final straw. At some point, we realized that I was pretty much going to be wearing a diaper anytime I "might" wet where I didn't want to risk it (hotels, airplanes, other travel, and so on), so the additional effort of just wearing any time (while sleeping) at home was low... and the medications, wake-up alarms, dehydrating me, and so on, weren't helping my physical or mental health. So, after about a year, efforts tapered off. I was pretty much wearing a diaper anytime I might fall asleep anyway, just in case, so I just stopped trying so hard, stopped taking the medications, stopped waking up twice during the night to use the toilet, and so on. I remember feeling better... the lack of sleep and dehydration had been taking a large toll. Several time since then I've made smaller efforts, but nothing as concerted or long-lasting. At this point I've pretty much come to expect that it's not reversible.
  3. Yeah, as someone who returned to bedwetting... it was a weird moment when I was sitting in my recliner watching football and my wife threw a diaper in my lap and told me to get the diaper on, because I had fallen asleep on the couch and wet the previous week. Being told I "had" to put a diaper on because it was expected by my wife that I needed it was... an interesting feeling.
  4. I'll state what I think is obvious... having a touch of reality often makes a story far more compelling and interesting, as it makes it much easier to connect with the characters. Given the nature of this story and it's connection to recent events (fiction in "Hand Maiden's Tale" and recent Supreme Court news), though, "nudge-nudge hahaha" becomes "nudge-nudge. um. gulp". Perhaps things start to hit a little too close to home for some people... I do very much .... well, not sure enjoy is the right word... appreciate?... the world you're building and the characters, and I'm very interested to see where you take this story over the arcs, and I hope you continue to update it here...
  5. In the first post it appears you have some sort of cut and paste issue... Beyond that, I'm enjoying this, and am curious to see where it goes!
  6. I've had two run-ins with the medical world since I re-trained sleep wetting. The first time was for a more major 'surprise' visit to the hospital. By the time I had a chance to mention something, it was in reaction to a wet bed, where I had to tell the poor nurse that no, it was not the first time, and was a problem with which in fact I was well acquainted. I mentioned that I usually wore some... urm... protection at home to deal with it, and asked in a drugged-mumbly-emabarrased way if there was something they could provide. The first nurse just said not to worry about it and that they'd change the bedsheets as needed, since I wasn't what they considered to be incontinent and they didn't want to put me on a four hour change schedule and so on. The next day, having had the sheets changed twice more (I was just laying in bed... sleeping...) my wife talked to the day nurse and they agreed that it would be ok if I managed it with supplies from home. With my leg in the condition in was in, it was hard for me to manage changes, so they helped a minimal amount, mostly to make sure I could do what I needed to do without messing up my leg. The second was an outpatient surgery. My wife, being the helpful one at my consultation meeting, asked the nurse what I should do about it, and the nurse said that it was rare, but not unheard of, for patients to wet while under anesthetic, and it would not be a bad idea to wear whatever I wore at home and was comfortable with. I wore a boring basic disposable, but didn't wet. Anyway... in my limited experience, when it was planned for, it wasn't a big deal at all. When it wasn't planned for, other things were way more important.
  7. Sorry to go back in time a little, but I'm just catching up. Love to read your writing, @oznl, but I don't always get to read it promptly. "For N=1", as they say... I've been saying that the "conventional wisdom" is wrong here for a while. My experience was that it's quite possible to develop (go back to?) sleep wetting, without changing daytime habits at all. I think it's a matter of your sleeping brain being ok with letting the floodgates open, and that behavior has little or nothing to do with any daytime behaviors, or anything physiological. I do whole-heartedly agree, though, that once that Rubicon is crossed, as you said, it's extraordinarily difficult to go back. I tried, with all the tools I had, to regain control while sleeping over a two-plus year time frame and failed miserably. Granted, I tried to revert after 10+ years sleep-wetting, but still. Didn't happen. Close to 10 years after that effort, still hasn't happened. There's a whole lot of individual stuff here, of course, so one person's experience is unlikely to be like another's. But it's perfectly possible to lose night-time control, have no issues during the day, and (so far) be unable to regain control... maybe not for everyone, but the "conventional wisdom" of, "that never happens" is... urm... not correct. Keep up your updates. I very much enjoy your writing style and following you on your journey!
  8. I made myself a sleep wetter over 20 years ago. I had full control when I started, and it took maybe a little over a year before I would wet while sleeping more often than that. About 12 years later I tried to stop. I worked hard at it for a close to a year, using all the 'normal' steps one would use with a child and bedwetting, and never really got anywhere. I still have a good chance of wetting anytime I sleep, wherever I sleep. I never tried for daytime incontinence, and never had any unintentional issues with that, so maybe not exactly the question you're asking, but might be a useful datapoint.
  9. Yup, was going to say this. Bulky cloth might be fun at first, but it's much harder to deal with. For my bed wetting I use multiple thinner diapers which can be folded to be more effective, as well as washed and dried much more easily. Get a few different cloth products to try, and then spend the $$$ once you figure out what works for you!
  10. I have a question that I ask from a position of ignorance, so I apologize if this is inappropriate, but... I'd assume that the SRS would result in some short term open cuts, wound healing, and other basic medical stuff common to many surgeries. Do you expect your diaper use to continue during the healing time? Might it be a good idea to hold off on the diaper dependency until the known, significant medical event is out of the way? Not that one would need to completely stop wearing diapers, but I'd hate to have other plans disrupted because of healing or cleanliness issues/concerns? To answer your standing changes question, though... I open the used diaper, but leave it between my legs, held in place between my legs at about my knees, sitting on top of my pants. I then get the new diaper ready, and as I open my legs to pull the new one through the old one drops a little out of the way. Tape up new. Then pull out old and ball it up. With practice it's quick and efficient, and any dribbling goes either on the old or new diaper, not clothes or the floor...
  11. Interesting premise... I'm curious about what happens next as well!
  12. Interesting world that is being built here. Definitely following this.
  13. Edit to add: sorry, I didn't mean to dig this up... for some reason it looked like it was a fresh post. Please feel free to ignore it. I think we need to be careful in this day in age when we talk about "censorship". I agree very much with your comments about censorship by the government... In general, government repression of speech quickly goes Bad Places... Which is, of course, the point being made by Orwell in 1984. However, when people yell CENSORSHIP! today, in many cases they are talking about being kicked off Twitter, or Facebook, or a talk show. These are not government forums. The other hand of the over-used 'freedom' argument is freedom of association. Outside of government, people can choose to not listen, interact, or facilitate your speech, and that's not censorship. https://xkcd.com/1357/
  14. Thank you all. Sorry it took so long to get the next chapter up, but several chapters ahead of what I've posted I made a plot decision that required me to go back and re-work a bunch of the story, so I held off until that is done. So, things should happen a little more regularly. Maybe.
  15. Thanks all for the comments! Glad people are enjoying it, and I hope you like the addition! === The normalcy of being asked to prepare dinner momentarily jerked me out of my diaper-centered trance, and I replied that of course I could, and had wandered back into the office before sitting down on my chair reminded me just how thick this diaper was. An hour or so later, I realized I needed to pee. Unlike pooping, I was pretty sure that Karen expected me to use the diaper I had on. I paused. This was something of a dilemma. The last time I had knowingly used a diaper was several years ago, before we were married. At the time, my curiosity had overcome my conscious aversion and I had opened the suitcase to try the diapers which had remained hidden since college. And OK, sure, I had wet the diaper I had worn today during my nap, but I had been sleeping. And, yeah, I had wet the cloth diaper last night. But I had been kinda drunk, so that didn’t count, really. And yeah, sometimes I did wet the Goodnights I wore when I was travelling. I guess I had wet a Goodnight intentionally once or twice when we had been flying between the coasts and the pilot had turned on the fasten seatbelt sign and I had to go and… well, I guess Karen had been right then in suggesting I wore them for the flight. Goodnights weren’t really diapers, of course, which is why I wore them when I needed to. I mean, they’re just padded underwear, like Karen said. Plenty of adults needed to wear the so-called protective underwear too... a whole section in the supermarket was devoted to them, after all. It’s just that the Goodnights fit me better than even the small versions of adult-sized pull ups, and besides, they were more absorbent and worked better when I did use them. Goodnights were a ‘just in case’ thing, and were intended to be pulled up and down just like normal underwear. I didn’t like wearing them either, but I admit they do have their place. Diapers, though… I was wearing a diaper. I reached down to feel the bulky white garment crinkling between my legs. Diapers were meant to be used. If you were wearing a diaper, it was because it was assumed you would use the diaper. You didn’t pull them down to use the toilet. You didn’t wear them just in case. You wore them because, like it or not, it was probably going to be wet before it was removed. If someone put you in a diaper, it was because they expected you to use it. It was taped on because the assumption was you’d need to change the diaper before you needed to change your clothes. I was rubbing the front of my diaper a little, feeling the thick padding and hearing the crinkle. It was comfortable. It was nice. It was there with the assumption that I was going to use it. As I sat there and thought about the line I was about to cross, my bladder gave a “now!” message, and without more thought I let it go. The diaper grew warm as I let out my full bladder, but the thick diaper seemed to barely notice. I was surprised that just a little yellow discoloration indicated that the Rubicon had been crossed. I could barely feel the wetness. The only real change was a little swelling as the diaper did it’s job. How much more could it take? Since I was now committed, in an already wet diaper, it was time to experiment. Walking downstairs I felt the now-warm diaper, now a little heavier, between my legs. I poured a big cup of iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge. If the diaper was wet, might as well see how much it can take! I started drinking as I went back to my office and resumed browsing aimlessly. By the time the alarm I had set to remind me to start dinner went off, I had had two large cups of iced tea, and had wet a few more times. The diaper now felt a little wet, although it had swollen quite a big, giving me a noticeable waddle as the bulk pushed my legs apart. Stir-frying the chicken and preparing the salad, I wet a few more times. Even with that, the diaper was still more than holding its own. I called her on the intercom, and a few minutes later she joined me in the kitchen as I was opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses. “How are things going?” she asked, as she once again cupped my crotch. “Let’s eat.” “Aren’t you going to ask me if I need a change?” She looked at me. “Do you need a change?” “Um… “ “I just checked.” She gave me a quick hug and a kiss on my forehead. “Your diaper can hold a lot more. Let’s eat.” I looked up. “You’re not surprised that I used it? Not disgusted?” “No, silly! I put it on you, and told you to not take it off. If you hadn’t used it I’d probably be seeing yellow in your eyes.” So we sat down. More random chat about the developments of the pandemic. More states talking about locking down. More cases all over. New York sounded bad. Soon a second bottle of wine was opened as conversation shifted to what it meant to not be able to see friends. She used the bathroom. I had to go. “So… we need to talk.” I started poorly. Obviously, we were already talking. “I know you’re trying to do this,” I gestured at my diaper, “for me… to help me relax, but… I’ve spent so long fighting people from treating me like this. Ever since I didn’t start growing with the other kids in 6th grade. They all shot up, but I stayed this tall. The doctor kept telling me my growth spurt would happen… and it kept not happening. I was made fun of. Bullied. I couldn’t play sports. The girls like me, but they just found me, you know… cute, not… real boyfriend material.” “It wasn’t until I found you, and you treated me as me, not as a kid, that everything was OK. And now…” I was staring into my wine as I talked. “Now I’m here, and I love you, and I know you love me, but I’m here… in a diaper… that is wet, and I need to pee again. And I don’t want you to see me as a child.” She came over and hugged me. She guided me out of my chair, and I was aware of her trying to discreetly check my diaper. Apparently she thought it was ok, as she led me over to the couch, setting her and my wine down on the side table. “It’s ok, babe. Yes, I know you as you. As my husband, who might have a small body, but has a strong mind and is a wonderful person. But I also know that you’re curious… and might want to explore things… for a little while. So, here’s the thing… I, well, believe it or not, I want to explore these too. I… I like taking care of you, you know. Can we continue for tonight? Tomorrow we can stop, if you want.” She paused. “But… for now, would you like to…” She indicated her lap. I kind of did want to, actually. As much as I was protesting, thoughts of this afternoon came back. It had been so comfortable. I paused. Just for tonight. And it was nice being with her… I lay down on her lap, and she pulled the cover over me again. She reached behind herself, released her bra, and soon I felt myself relaxing as she again rubbed the front of my diaper, the thick, damp padding rubbing on me… I sucked harder, massaging her breast with my hand… and it didn’t take as long this time to both have a little shiver. Once again, she shifted over, and I fell asleep on her breast for the second time that day. When I woke I didn’t feel like I had been asleep long, but it was dark, the dishes were done, and Karen was wearing her pajamas when she gently rocked me awake. “Come upstairs,” she whispered, as she gently guided my almost-sleeping form up the stairs. Turning towards the master bedroom out of habit, she gently guided me to the guest room instead, unsnapping the onesie from between my legs and pulling it off smoothly as she guided me, still almost sleeping, onto the changing mat which already had cloth diapers layed out. I felt her go through the process of getting the now soaked disposable off, wiping me down, and then getting the cloth diapers pulled up and pinned firmly. She slid plastic pants up my legs and asked me to lift up as she pulled them into place and made sure all the cloth was tucked in. The diapers started to warm up as she helped me into the arms and legs of a sleeper. This didn’t have mittens, so it wasn’t the one I couldn’t get out of, I noted through the haze. When everything was in place, she helped me into the master bedroom. I was a little surprised as she guided me onto the bed laying across it, but figured it out when she got on the bed laying back on some pillows, and my head was once again in that comfortable spot on her chest. I opened my mouth a little, and I felt her adjusting a little as her nipple entered my mouth. I was suckling gently as I fell asleep. === I was in my bedroom, watching my mother put a diaper on my two and half year old brother. “If you can stay dry tonight, maybe we can try big-boy underpants tomorrow. Would you like that?” My Mom’s voice was warm and loving as she finished taping on his diaper. My brother, four years younger than me, smiled and laughed in his toddler voice. “Can I wear my spider-man underpants Mommy?” “If you can stay dry tonight, sure! You’re doing so well!” He giggled and gave my mother a hug as she pulled his pajama bottoms up. I felt jealous as he had little to worry about. He was wearing a diaper tonight, but likely wouldn’t need it, and Mom hugged him and told him what a big boy he was. Then she turned to me, her disappointment broadcast on her face. “Your baby brother is going to beat you.” Her voice was cold. Emotionless. I wanted to ask for a diaper, but I knew I couldn’t. We’d had this discussion before. Big kids didn’t wear diapers. Seven year olds were big kids. I was in elementary school… real school, for big kids, after all. The plastic sheet I slept on caused me to wake up soaking in a puddle of my own making many mornings, and her logic was that if I was uncomfortable enough then maybe I’d stop sooner. Diapers were for babies who weren’t expected to be able to control it yet. There was no hug from Mom for me. There were no giggles. I turned and got my book, planning on reading for a bit before I got up just before turning out my light for one last trip to the bathroom, as I always did, but instead I just wanted to hit my bed, thrashing, taking out my frustrations on the pillow. I couldn’t keep myself dry, like a big could should, but I couldn’t just wear a diaper and be comfortable, like my baby brother. And now he was going to be a big kid. It wasn’t fair. I sobbed into my pillow. It wasn’t fair. === I felt my wife moving me. I opened half an eye, seeing that the sun was just starting to light the horizon outside our window. I must have been hogging the blankets, or trying to push her out of bed or something, so I started to squirm away. “Shhh, you were having a nightmare,” she whispered gently. “C’mere, babe. I have something for you.” Her arms pulled me closer, and I soon found myself laying on her chest again, her breast in my mouth and her hand gently massaging my diaper. Not really having woken up anyway, I relaxed into it, my hand making its way to her breast. It was starting to feel comfortable. Familiar. Us time. After a few minutes she adjusted my head to align with her other breast. I continued for a few more minutes until I felt her moving around, and I pulled off, only to have something else put in my mouth. It was wet and warm and tasted of… milk. It had a nipple too. I started a little, but I could feel her hand laying on top of my thick cloth diaper as my sucking now pulled real milk from the bottle, and I relaxed as her hand gently massaged. Feeling a little need to pee, I just let myself release just a little into my diaper and continued drinking until the bottle was gone. My stomach felt full. I fell back asleep.
  16. I woke sometime later. I was still on the couch. All the window curtains were drawn, so it was dark despite the sunny day outside. I sat up, a little reluctant to leave the warm comfort of the blanket and couch. There was a dampness, though… oh. My diaper was wet, but also a wet area on the onesie around my waist indicated that I had wet, and the diaper had leaked. A felt around and sure enough, there was a wet spot on the couch. A pretty big wet spot. It had taken the brunt of the leak. Sighing, I got up, the wet disposable squishing under me. I had really had to go, I guess. Lifting myself off the couch, the swollen diaper between my legs gave me a bit of a waddle as I walked to the intercom. “Karen?” Again, I had to wait for only a few seconds. “Hi babe. You’re up?” Kind of a rhetorical question, really… “Yeah. I… uh… I am… uh…” “Do you need a change?” I sighed, because this was also a rhetorical question. “Yeah.” Clearly I had been sleeping deeply, as my brain was really only capable of single word sentences so far. “Ok, I’ll be right there.” And indeed she was, the back door opening in a minute. She quickly took note of the obvious leak, and the dark spot on the couch “Wow, you sure did a number there. Those diapers are not going to be sufficient… and I need to clean the couch...” “I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose.” “You wet in your sleep again?” I nodded. She gave me a concerned look. “It’s happened the last four times you’ve gone to sleep. I know you’ve had problems sometimes, but… seems like a lot.” I hung my head. “You know, sometimes things are a little better, and sometimes a little worse...” “Stress?” I shrugged. “Maybe? I mean, for the first time since college I don’t have a job… the pandemic is going to kill us all… Idunno.” “Should you see your doctor?” I shrugged again. “You were there the last time. She’ll just hmmm and ummm and poke and prod and declare it related to my size, or tell me I’ll grow out of it, or whatever. And, anyway, just what I want to do is go see a doctor right now.” She nodded. “Yeah, they have enough to do. And you’re right… it’s not like we haven’t talked to the doctor before.” She gave me a quick reassuring hug. “Just checking, honey.” Walking to the front door, she said over her shoulder, “Let me check and see if the deliveries are here yet…” I heard the front door open, and then some grunting and noises as what sounded like several boxes were pulled inside. When I heard the front door close, I joined her, the soaking diaper and wet onesie feeling uncomfortably wet and cold. There were four boxes there. “What’s all this? Your shopping arrived already? Didn’t you just order it this morning?” She took my hand and looked at me. “Well, look. Your… accidents… have been getting worse. Quite a bit worse. Even before the last two or three days...” “But I can’t help…” I started. “Shhh. Wait. Your accidents are getting worse, and I know you can’t help it. The Goodnights are not really handling it anymore either. A couple of times recently you’ve leaked and… well, I might have been thinking about this for a little while now… I got you some more… adult… things… that might help.” She was right, of course. I sighed as she turned to examine the boxes. She separated three of the bigger boxes from the pile. “These I ordered a few days ago…” Opening the first one, I saw several packages of diapers. She pulled a package out. I wasn’t familiar with them, but it said MegaMax. “These are supposed to be really good for night time,” she said. She pulled out another bag, which was another bag that said Megamax, and then a bag which had some cartoon astronauts on it. “And these might be a little more… fun…” and then something purple that said “Supreme” on it. “These are supposed to be good for daytime… maybe better than those if you’re taking a nap, it looks like!” I stood there without comment as she opened the second box, a little amused that she was the one acting like a kid at Christmas. She pulled out wipes, a bag that said “Boosters”, and then a few plastic pants and underpads. What the heck? She had clearly been planning this for a while if these were showing up now. With the pandemic deliveries were slowing down, so my must have ordered these… which means she’s been thinking about this… for how long? She went to open the third box, but paused. “The others can wait. We can’t have you standing there in a wet diaper all day, right? Let’s get you changed. Let’s try these first.” Grabbing the bag that said MegaMax, she took my hand and we went upstairs. “I can’t believe you ordered that… stuff… without telling me...” “Yeah, well, I know you, babe. I was worried about how I was going to approach it with you, but after I found the suitcase… well, like I said, I know you, and knew you’d have some time off…” She guided me into the guest room. As I sat down on the changing pad, she opened the bag of diapers and placed a stack on a shelf nearby. She opened the snaps on my onesie, trying to bunch it up so that the wet part didn’t get wiped on my head as it was pulled off. I started to lay down. “Hold on, babe. Let me get this ready...” She took one of the diapers off the stack and opened it up. She folded it lengthwise, fluffing it up a little, before laying it down on the changing pad. “Ok, now lay down on this diaper…” As I positioned myself on top of the new diaper, I had to ask. “You seem like you know what you’re doing here… is there… um… something I should know?” She started opening the tapes on the wet diaper I was wearing. “Like I said… this is something that I’ve been thinking about… and the internet has a lot of information!” The wet diaper was opened, and she was using a wipe to clean me off, spending perhaps a little more time than was strictly necessary cleaning the front of me up, which I was showing my appreciation for. “I’ve been studying,” she smiled. “I’ve been thinking about how we could do this for a while, and I’ve been watching a lot of videos, and reading a bit, and it kind of… well, I hope this relaxes you and gives you a break…” She finished wiping, and told me, “Up!” I lifted my bottom, and the wet diaper was slid out. She did a quick wipe of my bottom and adjusted the new diaper before I put it back down, and I smelled the pleasant smell as she added powder. Almost before I realized it the fresh diaper was up between my legs and being taped. The first thing I realized was just how big and thick it was. Rather than coming up to my waist as the previous diaper had, this diaper was above my belly button. As the tapes were fastened I could feel my legs being pushed apart by the bulk being snuggled in my crotch. “Wow, this is… thick. Do I really need…” I paused. “Babe, it’s OK. These are probably mostly for night or when you’re sleeping. I just wanted to see how they fit. They look pretty good. Less likely to leak over the top, I think.” I sat up and wiggled my legs, hearing the crinkle and feeling the bulk between my legs and much higher. I had never tried a diaper that felt like this before. I hated to admit it, but it was soft, and comfortable. Was this how a diaper was supposed to fit? As I was exploring the feeling, I heard “Arms up!”, and another onesie was fit over my top. Suddenly there was a large PPPHHHHHHHTTTTT and my whole stomach vibrated! My eyes shot open and my back arched in surprise as she laughed, “Sorry I just couldn’t resist that!” Being the ticklish type I was squealing as my reflexes kicked in against the raspberry and some light tickling with her hands, and then I started laughing as well. My back still arched in surprise, my wife passed the tail of the onesie under me before snapping it between my legs, both of us still laughing. She helped me up with a kiss and a hug. “Wow, this is really thick,” I repeated as I stood up. There was no way I could walk normally. Karen was putting the used diaper in a covered 5 gallon pail that had appeared in the room at some point. “Well, it should hold you for a while, then. I’m going to get back to work. Can you fix dinner when it’s time? There’s chicken marinating in the fridge.”
  17. He is not cute! It says so right in the story! ? Thanks! Well, it is easier to keep clean that way.
  18. As she left to go to her workshop, I replied with a “OK, I’ll let you know” and a smile. As she headed down the stairs I headed into our office to read a little and see what was happening in the world. As I walked the disposable was noticeable between my legs, but was nothing compared to the bulk of the cloth diaper I had just been changed out of. Even though the bulk was less, though, it was hard to ignore the crinkle, the poof of the plastic cover of the diaper when I sat in my chair, or the relaxed and comfortable mental state I was in. The onesie snapped between my legs pulled gently, settling the bulk of the diaper in my crotch. After a few minutes getting used to the new feeling, soon I was engaged in reading about the latest news on the pandemic and everything else going wrong in the world. Two hours of doom-scrolling later, I was brought back to reality by the grumble in my stomach that marked my body’s normal reaction to the coffee signalling imminent action was forthcoming. I was going to need to go. Soon. And I had a diaper on. And, I noted, a onesie. That Karen had changed me into. And I had promised Karen that I’d tell her if I needed anything. The options went through my mind… should I not bother her? Should I just take care of it? She was working, so inevitably she was in the middle of a project… but I had promised to tell her if I needed something. I mean, we’re definitely not in a “Do What My Wife Tells Me” kind of relationship. We respect each other as equals, but in the interests of marital harmony I at least strongly consider her requests… and, so, I guess this counted. I settled on the conclusion that she had put me in the diaper, so it was her problem. I got up, and as I did so the onesie pulled the diaper up in a way that was… comfortable. I enjoyed the feeling as I made my way to the upstairs intercom and pressed the button. “Karen?” A few seconds later. “Hi honey. You OK?” “I… urm… need to…go. As in… I don’t want to do it in my… the… um...” “Oh. Ok. Um…. well, you can… no, wait. I’ll be there in 5 minutes. Is that ok?” I paused. “Yeah, that’s ok. But please hurry.” “OK.” Two minutes later, the back door opened and Karen came in. “You need to poop, huh?” “Yeah. And I don’t want to do it in... ” I gestured down to my waist. It felt weird talking about this, obviously. “Yeah, I think you should take care of that in the toilet. Let me get the diaper off you. I’ll meet you in the guest room. I’ll be right there. Need to wash my hands.” I walked over to the guest room and took off the sweatpants. I lay down on the bed pad that was still there as I heard the water running in the bathroom. A few seconds later she joined me. Reaching to my crotch to pop the snaps on the onesie open, she examined the front of the diaper while feeling it with her hand. “Still dry?” I snorted. “Really? Well, I don’t really need the diaper…” “During the day, anyway,” she added with a smile. Touche... “OK, I think I read these had refastenable tapes, right? So if I just do this…” She pulled the tapes off, leaving the blue tapes on the diaper, and opened it up. “Tuck that onesie tail up and do your business… actually, maybe you want to take your shower, too? I’ll be downstairs. Call me when you’re done.” Having waited longer than I preferred to already, it didn’t take me long after I got to the toilet, carefully making sure the onesie was out of the way, that I was done. A shower sounded good, so I started the shower, and a few minutes later was drying with a towel. It was at that point that I realized I didn’t have any clothes with me, so I slipped the onesie back on, leaving the crotch unsnapped. “Uh, Karen? I’m uh, done.” I was standing there, nude from the waist down, in the hall, with only the tails of the onesie giving me any modesty as she came up. She tried, and failed, to cover a little laugh when she saw me. “Oh, you look so…” She luckily cut herself off before she said ‘cute’. I hate that word. I am not ‘cute’. Kids are ‘cute’. I am not ‘cute’. “...wonderful, and… I love you, babe! Lay down on the changing pad.” I gave her a half smile to acknowledge her good catch before walking into the guest room. I lay down on top of the already opened diaper that I had been wearing before, and she quickly pulled it up, refastened the tapes, snapped up the onesie, and gave me a kiss. “OK, I’ll see you for lunch at noon-ish. OK?” I nodded, and soon was back to doom-scrolling in the office. It was a little after noon that I heard the back door open. She called up the stairs. “Babe, you still on the computer? Hungry?” I looked up, eyes a little bleary from the extended parade of bad news on my monitor. “Yeah. I haven’t eaten. I’ll be right down.” As I stood up I realized that I didn’t have the sweatpants on, and my bare legs framed the diaper being pulled into my crotch by the onesie. I thought about grabbing the sweat pants or a pair of shorts for modesty, then thought about what she had said about her being responsible for my clothes, and mentally shrugged. If she didn’t want to see my diaper while we ate, she could cover it up. So I walked down the stairs in the onesie and diaper. Karen’s back was to me as she prepared two salads for lunch, but when she turned and saw me her face lit up. She finished with the cucumbers and placed the plates at the table before coming over to me. I felt her hand on my crotch as she gave me a hug. “Still dry?” “Well, it’s not like I need these,” I gestured at my crotch, “but the grope is nice… you can do that any time!” She giggled a little, and my diaper crinkled as she rubbed a little more. I leaned into it, until she removed her hand. “Maybe later. Let’s eat.” Sitting at the table, we had a normal lunch. From the table top up, at least. It was hard not to be aware of the disposable between my legs and under me as I sat on the chair. The padding felt kind of nice as I moved my bottom a little on the hard wood chair. We talked about the project she was working on, some custom cabinets for a 40 foot sloop being refurbished by the boat shop my wife worked for. They were paying a pretty penny for the high-end work my wife did. She was enjoying being able to put the time and effort into doing it right, and she was justifiably proud of this job. Not bad for an art major, even if I did jokingly describe her career as a ‘wood-murderer’! After the dishes were in the dishwasher, she took my hand and led me to the couch. She seemed a little nervous. “So, babe…” “Yeah?” Now I was nervous too. ‘So, babe...’ is usually not the start to a good conversation between us. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about all morning, and I’d like to try it, if you’re up for it…” “Um, ok, sure, what?” If she was nervous about it, and I was nervous about it… but I was also curious. What kind of new things? Are we talking about something in our relationship? Some new sex thing? “Well…” Then she got the Determined Karen Look. She had made a decision. “Sit here… Lay down… put your head in my lap…” As I followed her guidance, my head ended up nestled against her breasts as she supported my head with one arm, and reached over and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, covering me up from my toes and up and over my head, with the other. Under the blanket, next to my face, she pulled her shirt up, and her bra was in my face now. Reaching behind herself she released her bra (how can women do that one handed?) and suddenly her breast was exposed, her nipple at my lips. With my head under the blanket being held close, suddenly all I could see, smell, or feel was her breast. In surprise, I pulled back suddenly. “Uh, honey?” I couldn’t see her face. Nothing other than her breast in front of me, her released bra slipping down beside my face. “Shhhhh… just relax…” Continuing to cradle my head, she used her other hand to gently lift her breast. Now, I have to say, I’ve always been a breast man. Who can blame me for enjoying looking at, and playing with, her perfectly sized, so luscious, beautiful breasts? I mean, I’m certainly not the only guy who enjoys bringing their partners pleasure through them while we’re fooling around. But. Having her breast right there, in front of my mouth, with her nipple sticking out to clearly show her thoughts on the matter, was a little shocking in that context. She moved her breast up as I let her gently guide my head in. I felt her nipple enter my mouth, and then she took a deep breath as my lips closed around it automatically and my tongue started stroking instinctually. It wasn’t something that I was thinking about… in fact, I was now more thinking about her other arm cradling my head closer and then… I felt her hand on my diaper, and felt her kneading… and took my own deep breath, which ended up being a deep suck on her breast… which caused more kneading, and soon we were in a little rhythm. She’s always had sensitive breasts, and I know she had orgasmed in the past just by my playing with, and sucking on, her breast. My free hand went gently to the breast I was attached to, and I was gently working her breast in time with her hand on my diaper. After a few minutes of this gentle caressing I could feel her breath get shorter, and then a little shiver passed through her. My eyes stayed closed as she lifted me a little and shifted so that her other breast was in front of my face, her nipple again in my mouth, never stopping rubbing me through my diaper. Soon, I felt my own spasm as I arched my back slightly, and then relaxed. She stopped kneading, but the gentle pressure of her hand stayed on my diaper. It wasn’t an Earth-shattering kind of event, but it was quite nice. And then guilt hit. In the post-orgasm clarity I suddenly tried to sit up. This was silly. I was in a diaper, sucking my wife’s breast. This was everything I had been fighting against for years. I tried to tell her to stop, but her arm cradling my head held me in place. Her breast in my mouth prevented intelligible speech, and she held me tight with the other, whispering calming words in my ear. The post-orgasm tiredness quickly replaced the post-orgasm guilt, and I fell asleep in her lap, still suckling gently.
  19. I woke in the morning, I don’t know what struck me first. It was something of a sensory rush between the headache, the bulky and wet feeling between my legs, or the smell of coffee already brewing. My first thought was, “What the hell?” The coffee was always my job, getting up early to get to my job. My wife always rose later. The sun was up. And I had a headache. It wasn’t until I tried to move that I felt something bulky being pulled up between my legs and… Oh! I remembered what I was wearing, and the conversation from last night. As I stretched, I felt the diaper being snuggled up in my crotch by the sleeper. My hands went to my crotch where I realized that first, I couldn’t feel anything through the mittens, but second, even through the mittens I could feel that I was still wearing the thick cloth diaper. And… yeah, it was wet. Quite wet. And, oh, the headache. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, slowly getting upright. The unfamiliar bulk between my legs kept my knees apart as I sat up. I had last worn these diapers a couple years ago, before we were married, so the feeling was both familiar, but new and different. I didn’t really remember them being quite this… bulky. I made an instinctive grasp at the zipper but with the mittens, and the enclosed buttons holding the flap over the zipper closed, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to remove it without help. Unable to remove anything, I took a deep breath. I didn’t really want Karen to see me like this… diapered… in a sleeper… but, well, I guess there wasn’t much option here. She had put me in this, anyway, so it’s not like it was going to be a shock to her. I made my way downstairs to find Karen browsing something on the iPad at the kitchen table, a large mug of steaming coffee next to her. “...number of cases in New York City has started to sky rocket… “ She was listening to a podcast on her phone, which she paused when she heard me on the stairs. “Hi honey. Good morning! Just doing a little shopping.” She had a Cheshire-cat kind of grin as she finished something on the ipad and then turned it off along with her phone. It was the kind of grin that made me really nervous. “How are you doing this morning? Sleep well?” “Um. Well. I remember what happened last night… sort of… but…” She smiled, and came over to me, leaning down to give me a hug. I continued, “But, in the light of day, and sober, this…” I gestured at what I was wearing… “is, urm, kind of ridiculous, and, uh… I don’t think....” I realized that her hand was on my crotch. Was she really feeling me up? Could we maybe… Oh. She was checking my diaper. The kneading continued perhaps a second or two longer than necessary as I leaned into it with a little “Mmmmmm.” I couldn’t feel her individual fingers through the thick wet cloth as we spent a few seconds together. She looked me in the eyes with a smile. “Look, babe, from what you’re saying, it sounds like you might be a little shy… But from what I feel, it also seems you’re enjoying it…” My hips moved a little against her hand, and she pulled me into a hug. I could feel the structure of her bra against my cheek as she gently hugged my head to her chest.. “At least, a little. So, just go with the flow today. If you don’t want to continue, tomorrow morning we’re back to normal. It’s just an experiment, but I’ll make sure it’s worth your while. Some things I’ve ordered should be here sometime today. It would be a shame to let that go to waste without trying, right? OK? Do this for me?” Her hand was still there. Not kneading now, but just… there. I couldn’t say no to her, of course. So, instead, I sighed. I looked up at her, somewhat reluctantly pulling my head away from where it was nestled in her comfortable chest. “I have to say that I’m not really happy about it.” I had to make the point, for my own self-esteem. “But if it’s for you, then, well, ok.” I paused. My brow scrunched. Headache. “Can I have my coffee now?” She laughed. “Well, I thought you’d ask for a diaper change first, but sure, let’s get the coffee and some breakfast.” She poured my share into a travel mug, added cream, and put the top on. She put it on the table in my regular spot, and after taking a seat I found I could hold it even with the mittens, letting the needed caffeine enter my bloodstream. The day immediately got better. "Should I ask what you ordered? What if I don't want to do this?" She was fetching a plate of food from the oven. "Here, I saved you some bacon and eggs.” Placing it on the table, she continued, “Shopping… well, I got you some more diapers and some more clothes. I washed what you have, but it's really only going to hold you for a few days, I think.” She looked at the face I was making. “And of course if you want to stop, we stop. It would make me happy if you kept your agreement for the full two weeks, though. And if you’d just relax, and trust me." She looked me in the eyes. “But you have to really WANT to stop. I know that this is something you’ve been curious about for a while… so I’m going to force the issue. Just a little. Don’t worry honey, I know what your limits are, and if you really want to stop we will.” I nodded. I trusted her. "Alright. I'll try. But only for you. So... since this is kind of your idea… What do you have in mind? I mean, are you going to keep me like this? Or do you expect me to change myself?" "And what about when I have to… you know… poop?” A particularly relevant question, I thought, as I felt my gut gurgle the usual preliminary effects of my morning coffee kicking in. I stared at the food in front of me. "And, urm, I can’t really eat this with this on...” She sat down next to me with a fork, and began cutting my food. “Let’s try this… open up!” A fork-full of food was making its way to my mouth, and I instinctively opened. Most of the food made it in my mouth. “Honey, can I…” Another fork-full of food was in my mouth, with rather more on my sleeper this time. We were both laughing as she took the napkin and cleaned my front, then took another napkin and tucked it in at my neck. “Well, I guess there’s something else we’re going to need to soon...” “Or, you know, I could feed myself…” “But this is way too much fun!” With a big grin she leaned over and gave me a deep kiss that tasted of coffee, bacon, and eggs. “C’mon, babe, I need to get to work.” She quickly fed me the rest of the bacon and eggs, and working together we managed to get most of it in my mouth between sips of coffee, some giggles over the apparent absurdity of the situation, and a lot of smiles and encouragement from my wife. My wife is the kind of person who wears her emotions on her sleeve. For me, at least, she doesn’t hide much. Her relaxing, fun, engaged demeanor as she tried to stuff breakfast in my mouth was contagious, and I found myself enjoying her attention and affection. By the end of breakfast I was almost convinced it would be ok. Even if I was sitting there in a wet diaper like the child I tried so hard not to be. She placed the dishes in the sink, and I followed her upstairs. Instead of turning right to go into our master bedroom, she guided me left, opening the door to our guest room. The items from the suitcase were neatly stacked on the shelves and hanging in the closet, and a changing pad was on the bed. “Uh, dear, what time did you get up this morning?” “Well, I couldn’t really sleep. So… I dunno, I got up at like, maybe four or something.” She fiddled with the buttons covering the zipper and stripped off the sleeper while I was standing. “C’mon, lay down here.” She patted the changing pad on the bed. “I can do this myself now that I have my hands free…” She shook her head. “Nope. This is what we agreed on last night. I’m responsible for your clothes. And that includes what you’re wearing under them. So, you have no choice in it, which means no shame for you, because it’s not your choice. Get it?” I nodded. I mean, I was still wearing a diaper, and it appeared I was about to be changed into another one, so there was definitely some shame. But if she was ‘making’ me wear it, then… well, I guess it couldn’t be that bad. Right? So I lay down, and she quickly removed my plastic pants, unpinned the wet cloth, wiped me down (where had she gotten the wipes?) and unfolded a white Abena disposable. Maybe one of the Juniors. “OK, lift up…” I did so, and the wet cloth was slid out from under me, and the disposable was slid in. I felt it being pulled up between my legs, and then four presses as the diaper was pulled firm and tapes fastened. “Not bad, I have to say for myself. First time I’ve ever done a diaper change! Does it feel right?” I nodded, and then realized I had just agreed that the diaper I had on felt right. With a smile she turned, and thought for a second before pulling a white onesie off the stack. “You had some different size diapers in there, so I wasn’t sure what would fit… I think these extra-smalls are barely up to your waist size, according to the package.” She pulled on the waist-band, and I shivered as her hand traced a path through my crotch at the leg opening. “They look like they fit… but barely. We’ll try the smalls later to see if they fit better.” I sat up as she pulled the onesie over my head, and then back down as the tails were pulled between my legs and fastened, pulling the diaper comfortably into my crotch. Did I just call the diaper comfortable? She was right, of course. The waist of these youth diapers were a little too small. When I had gotten them I had an inch or two less on my waist and they were on the tight-ish side even then. “OK, here you go.” She handed me a pair of sweatpants and helped me off the bed. “I’ll be in the workshop. You have plans for this morning?” I laughed. “Plans? No. Well, not really. Probably check the news. Maybe clean up some of the files on my computer. Find out how screwed we are with this virus. Play a game and try to forget about it. I dunno.” Kissing me on the forehead, she reminded me that she was responsible for my diapers and to promise to call her on the intercom if I needed something.
  20. I'm glad dry January is over! I was starting to feel a little guilty drinking my gin and tonic thinking about all the people who had to deal with the month without a drink! ?
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