justforfun

Meh. 37, but for an middle aged married guy with a kid, most of those are kinda gimmies, and the whole snapchat thing... Well. No. I think it more of an, "are you a gen Z/millennial doing the internet dating/sex thing", vs a gen x type who is way less innocent than that but didn't text/instagram/myspace my social group about it... Get offa my lawn. Apparently.

(I thought I replied before, but it didn't take, or went in the bin-of-unloved-posts, or something. Anyway...) You might well be referring to me... yep, became a self-taught bedwetter about 20 years ago. About 8 years (or so?) ago I went through a significant effort to re-train to stop it. I was unsuccessful, and I kind of gave up after perhaps 2 years of trying. Contrary to what others have posted, though, at least it does not seem to affect my waking continence, which is fortunate, but that's just my experience. I'd expand that it's not just wetting diapers being OK that my mind has internalized. I convinced my sleeping brain that if I felt any bladder pressure that it was OK to just let it out when I was sleeping. This happens whether or not I'm wearing a diaper, which is the problem, of course! Apparently I am way too convincing to myself, because I couldn't later convince my mind that it should not just release. Why? I don't know.

Yup, multiple thinner diapers, with baby diaper inserts used as needed, is definitely the way to go if you're using them regularly for their intended purpose. For me, bedwetting. Given my male hardware, and my general inability to stay "pointing" in any particular direction, a great hint I got was to position a baby diaper or two horizontally at my lower stomach, so that... urm... upward flow... meets the absorbent part of the diaper. This means I can have less bulk between my legs while still having enough absorbency where I need it while laying down.

Wow, thanks for the details! Didn't mean to make you waste a whole diaper with the test, but it was good data! Appreciate it!

Thanks all for the replies; glad you're enjoying it! Always nice to know others are reading. Many more chapters are written, but I need to clean them up, so it will be a few days.

Hey thanks, @diaperedboilerman! I appreciate your help!

I hated going to parties. Even though my roommate had convinced me that I needed to get out more, meet people and be, you know, not an anti-social hermit, I still rather resented that I was at this house, at a party that I didn't like, with people I didn’t know. All of whom were a foot or more taller than me. I was used to walking in crowds of people, trying not to get accidentally stepped on, but drunk college students were harder to avoid. So I stood at the side of the room and watched. My half-baked plan of finding a girl that looked as miserable as I was and trying to talk to her (misery loves company, after all) wasn’t working, as everyone looked like they were having fun. On the other hand, I had made it through two years of college without really meeting anyone I could call a close friend, so why start now. I started sipping my beer a little more quickly, intending to at least get a good buzz out of it before I left. I thought about the items… diapers… that I had purchased earlier in the day at the medical supply store, sitting under my bed back in my room. I hadn’t gotten a chance to try them. Maybe they’d fit a little better than the baby diapers I had tried before. I kind of liked the feeling, the comfort of them, but the tightness meant I couldn’t wear them long. Maybe these adult diapers would fit better. “Hi, I’m Karen.” A girl was standing next to me. She was actually talking to me. While not unique, it was unusual. I usually had to be the one to start conversations, because most people just dismissed me as a misplaced kid. Tall, at least a full foot taller than me, she had long dark hair, deep brown eyes, a fit, toned body, and very nice… well, her best assets were at eye level for me. I immediately dismissed her as out of my league, but at least it would be nice to have someone to talk to, if she was willing to talk to me. I shook her offered hand. She sat down in the chair next to where I was standing. “Uh. Hi. I’m Jason.” “Hi Jason. I saw you in our psych class yesterday.” “Ok, yeah. I guess they make us comp-sci types take random classes to try to help us understand humans, I guess! So, uh, what are you studying?” “Dual major, Art and Business, actually. Dunno why, but, well, hopefully I can either create something nice, or sell things that other people create. If I’m really lucky I’ll be able to sell things that I create, but I’m not holding my breath.” I laughed. “I’m sure it will work out.” “Can I ask you a question?” Oh, crap. Here it goes. I mean, I always hit it off well, and then the conversation either goes, “why are you so short?”, or “why are you so cute?”, or “do you have to buy your clothes in the child section?” I had to explicitly not roll my eyes. On the other hand, she was talking to me, after all, and it’s not like stimulating conversation was happening elsewhere in my life. “Sure, go ahead.” “Have you ever thought about sailing? Racing?” OK, that wasn’t what I expected. “Uh, sailing? Like boats?” She smiled a wide, perfect grin with perfect teeth. Holy crap she’s so far out of my league it’s not funny. She took a little sip from the beer bottle she was holding. “Yeah, sailing. The school has a sailing team. I’ve been racing for the last two years after someone got me into it, and I love it. But, he graduated last year, so now I need a new crew. And sailing has a lot to do with weight, and, in general, the less of it the better. And the co-ed crews have no minimum weight limit. And if you’re interested, I’d like to take you out sailing and see if you’d like it. If you like it, I’ll teach you everything you need to know, and we can race.” My mouth was hanging open a little. That was, emphatically, not the question I had expected. My response was, characteristically, muddled. “Urm…” “Do you know how to swim?” “Yes… does sailing involve… swimming… a lot?” She laughed. She had the perfect laugh. Not the “Hehehe” silly-girl laugh, but a deep, full bodied laugh that matched her perfect looks perfectly. “Well, only if we screw up and go over, which happens, but it’s not a big deal. We just pull it back up and keep going. It’s a lot slower to sail upside down, though.” “Urm…” I laughed, my nervous laugh sounding so… well, even my laugh wasn’t in her league. But, maybe sailing was kind of like a date. Actually spending time with a woman, even if it was bound to be a one-off because I’m an eighty pound weakling with the body of a ten year old and she was never really going to see me as the adult I actually was. But, I needed to get with the program before she bailed. Bailed. Isn’t that a sailing thing? I made a funny, see? I could do this. “You know, that sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve never gone sailing before. When can we go? Should I give you my number, and you can let me know?” “What are you doing tomorrow?” “It’s Sunday, so… nothing. Sailing, maybe?” She considered, taking another sip. “Do you have a car?” I did not, and shook my head. I had a license but between being less able to see over the steering wheel than many grandmothers, and being here at school, I hadn’t needed, or wanted one. “Ok, I’ll drive to the lake. No problem. Where are you living?” She was pulling her phone out of her purse, and made a note as I told her. We exchanged texts, and I agreed to be waiting for her at 8am, packing a swimsuit and lunch for me. I couldn’t believe what was happening as she held out her hand. “OK, see you tomorrow then,” I said, shaking her hand. She gave me a look before saying, “You’re not going to bail on me, right?”, and smiled as she slipped into the crowd. Draining the rest of my beer, I quickly left for home to get ready. === Karen laughed and whooped in celebration as I did the traditional jump off the boat once we cleared the finish line, getting the winning horn, clinching the race, the regatta, and the points for the season. We could blow off the last race, taking it as the drop, and go start celebrating now. I got a full flip and a half as I hit the water, my drysuit protecting me from the cold lake water. After she circled around to pick me up, we hugged. As other boats finished, most came over to give a message of congratulations, support, and shared joy. It wasn’t until a little later, after dinner at the host hotel’s restaurant and having received the trophies and held them above our heads to the cheering of the gathered crowd, that things started to slow down and sink in. I was sipping a beer, along with Karen. The joyous mood was settling into a more melancholy reflection on what we’d accomplished together. First place in our division for the whole East Coast. Not bad. “So, is that all? Are we done?” Karen nodded, looking at me. She was thinking the same thing. Her answer was slow, considered. “Well… seems kind of sad to stop. It’s been fun. I’ve never had someone I trusted so much, or was so in tune with me. Thank you for agreeing to go sailing with me last year. We really did become a team.” I wasn’t sure what to say. I’m always bad at these things. “Thank you too. I’ll... miss our time together.” Luckily, she also knows that I’m terrible at expressing myself, so that was good enough. A team, that's what we were. We had spent so much time together over the last year and a half, racing last year, training camps during spring and summer, and now this whole fall semester of our senior year racing, training, and travelling together. We were a tight team team. We had never crossed the line to 'couple', though, agreeing to keep focused on the prize without the complications of making it a personal relationship. It had worked; we had won the big prize. She sipped her beer before continuing. “I got an email today.” I looked at her. “My parent’s estate is settled. It settled as I thought it would… I’m getting the house in California. My sister is getting the house in Nevada. I think I’ll move out there in the spring, after we graduate.” She sipped. I sipped. She looked at me. “Have you thought about moving to California?” I considered, but only briefly. “There are a lot of programming jobs in California.” Taking my hand, she put down her beer, stood up, and led me to her room. That night we explored a bunch of different ways the phrase “First Mate” could be interpreted.

We're just getting started. I already have the story of their meeting written up, along with back-story on both of them. I'm really trying to make this a loving/caring kind of story. Definitely not forceful (except in a fun and consensual way!), and not humiliation for humiliation's sake, although there might be a few... uncomfortable... moments, because, well, those happen in life. From a story telling point of view, the lockdown/quarantine allows them to have privacy and stay away from others while they explore these feelings and situations that might otherwise be difficult to write about, which I'm finding fun. I mean, let's be honest, if anyone had written a story about 2020 in 2019, they would have been accused of requiring too much suspension of disbelief! So, I'm going to take a little advantage of some of the unusual things that happened and see how our characters react. Or something like that.

I'm working on a story, and trying to get some things right. My protagonist has about a 24-25" waist, so would need diapers that are quite a bit different than what I'm personally familiar with, so verbose feedback is appreciated from those with the knowledge. What's the difference between the Abri-form Junior and Abriform XS2 diapers? They seem to fit about the same size range. The descriptions say, "Abena’s youth diapers offer a narrower core and a smaller leg cut", and is "designed specifically to fit juniors between 5-15 years that suffer from quick and uncontrolled urination." How does that compare to the feel, fit, etc., of the XS2? Or the Megamax XS or Megamax Small, which also seem to be in the same size range? How absorbent? For some who comfortably fits into Goonights XL, but does so only rarely, what would they feel like? Would these be too tight on him, or not give enough coverage? If so, don't worry, he'll get the right size! What about a comparison to Size 7 diapers, which seem to 'fit' at least some people in that size range? Other options that the protagonist might have tried? Thanks for your help!

Thanks to all for the feedback and title suggestions! I'm going to go with 'Loss of Stature' For now... thanks @D503... but I have an idea for a title that may make more sense in a few chapters assuming the characters choose to take the story in the direction I currently have it outlined. Maybe. In the meantime, this chapter feels a little more, well, intense, than I am aiming for in this story in general, but my protagonist just didn't want to act in any other way during this conversation, so I had to let him get it off his chest, so to speak. So, here goes. ===== “...An offer? What kind of… offer?” She paused. I waited for her to continue. “Here’s what I’m thinking.” She paused, and took a drink of wine. I took a drink of wine. “You can tell me that I’m wrong, but… I think you didn’t throw out the stuff in the suitcase because it is something that… well, something that you’re still interested in exploring.” Well… yeah… I mean… well… yeah… I guess. Yeah. “And I can completely understand you not wanting to talk to me about it because you, understandably, want to be seen as a strong, adult, guy.” Big yes to that. I’ve been fighting since puberty and the expected growth spurts that the doctors promised, but which never materialized, to not be seen and treated as the ‘little kid’. “And I think if I asked you if you wanted to wear the… things… in there… that you’d feel you’d have to say no. ...Right?” I nodded slowly. I don’t think that I could really say ‘yes’ to choosing to be seen like that. To be that vulnerable. “So, let me put it this way. Since I found the suitcase, I’ve read some things online. You know… well… I wanted to understand. Since you hid it from me. But I also think I found some things. Things that interest me. Look, let me stop talking. I’d like to take care of you. It would make me really happy to take care of you. Everything. You’ve been working really, really hard and made a tremendous amount of money, supporting me while I got the shop set up, so let me take care of you. We have a few weeks… maybe a couple, maybe more. Who knows. I want you to have no worries. You can still do whatever you want with your time… read, play video games, whatever… it’s your time, afterall, but… I’ll just take care of you. Let me take care of you.” She looked at me, trying to gauge my reaction. I wasn’t sure how to react. That was a lot of words, and I’d had a lot of wine. So, I went with the smart-alec response. “That was a lot of words after, ‘Let me stop talking’”. I smiled, to try to release the tension, but she clearly desperately wanted an answer. I wasn’t sure what to say. The wine swirled around in my mind, bringing clarity and fuzziness at the same time. “What does… ‘taking care’ of me mean, really? I mean, I love you, and of course I care for you, and you care for me… but…” She hesitated. She looked into my eyes. “If you don’t say ‘No’, for the duration of the lockdown, you’ll be in diapers. I’ll choose what you wear, so you don’t have to. No guilt. No shame. No worry.” I was more than a little bit in shock. This wasn’t what I had expected at the start of the conversation at all. Maybe a scolding that I should consider wearing a Goodnight or something, but… this was more than that. “I’m… not sure… I mean…” “We’re in lockdown. We won’t be seeing anyone. No going out. Just… us… for who knows how long. If you want to say ‘no’, you can. But you've been so stressed… and now you have time for a break. This is just an offer because I think it would be good for you. Good for us. It’s something I would like to try.” “I don’t feel like I should say yes.” “But you don’t want to say no.” “No.” “So, don’t say no. If you really, really mean ‘no’, say it within the count of five. ” “... … … … ...” “Ok then.” She held me closer. My head was against her breast. It was nice. She smelled… wonderful. “So...” I was all nervous now. I mean, what had I essentially agreed to? What did she have in mind? “Well… hold on.” She carefully extracted herself and then left, in the direction of the garage. Doors opened and closed. Doors opened and closed again. The suitcase was there. It was a pretty large suitcase. Blue. Soft sided. Expandable. I had used it for some international travel, so a few security and airline tracking stickers adorned the outside. I knew what was inside. It was full. Karen looked at me, and then unzipped it. I closed my eyes. “I didn’t poke around in it after I found it, so I don’t know everything that’s in here, other than what’s on top. Can we go through it?” I sighed, and opened my eyes. “OK. But we’re going to need more wine.” I poured another glass for each of us. I was a lightweight, literally and figuratively, so I knew I was way more gone than Karen, as usual. She started ruffling through the items. “It’s kind of like Christmas. Opening presents, and all. There’s certainly a lot here…” “Yeah.” “This was on top, so let’s start here.” She picked up a childish changing pad off the top of the pile in the suitcase, laying it on the floor. “C’mon here, babe. Lay down. Close your eyes. Let me take care of you.” I did so, and she pulled off my sweatpants. I closed my eyes. “Lift up… and down.” My boxers were off, and I could feel more padding under me. “I’ve been watching some videos, but let’s see how I do for my first time...” Not sure how to respond, I stayed silent as I felt bulk being pulled up between my legs. Cloth diapers, I guessed. “Let’s see… powder... and then the inner diaper is twisted… like this… and the second diaper has the edges between your legs rolled like this… and then pulled up…” I felt it laying on top of my stomach. It was pulled tight on one side, and then some fumbling… and then pulled tight on the other side… and then another pin on the first side… and then another pin on the second side. I moved a little, and the tightly fitted diaper gripped my legs and stomach in a way that I could only describe as comfortable. I relaxed, my eyes still closed, as there was rustling beside me. “Feet up a little… ok, now your bottom…” She pulled what must be plastic pants up my legs, securing them around my waist, tucking in the cloth. She paused. “This really does relax you, doesn’t it?” I nodded, feeling surprisingly relaxed for the first time in my memory I was being diapered by someone else. I was, in fact, kind of shocked that I wasn’t panicking. It must be the wine… it was almost an out of body experience as I lay there with my eyes closed, smelling my wife, feeling her hands on me as she gently tucked the cloth diaper into the plastic pants. “Feet one last time…” I felt a garment being pulled on, up my legs. “And bottom…” I arched, as what must be one of the sleepers I had was pulled up further. “And let me help you sit up…” My T-shirt was removed, and my arms were guided into the sleeper. I felt it's warm envelop me as my arms lid in, and the zipper started to be drawn up my leg, over the... my... diaper... I was almost asleep, between the wine, the lateness, and her calming patter, and was only a little surprised when I realized this was the sleeper with the mittens, and therefore the zipper that was being pulled up my front at the moment was going to be pretty much impossible for me to undo by myself. Huh. Yeah, I guess I had just gotten that sleeper the last time I was in the suitcase, so it would have been on top... She kissed me. “Ok, now you’re dressed, let’s look at the other things in here…” “Well, that’s good. You have a few...” She held up a light blue sleeper, with a zip from the knee to the neck. “That certainly looks comfy. The zipper doesn’t fasten like the one you’re wearing, though. I assume we should probably wash all this stuff…” She pulled another garment out. “Oh, cute, a onesie. With snaps in the crotch. Cute!” A few others followed, in various colors, and then some with some babyish prints. She smiled, and I had another drink of wine. She held one of the baby print ones up, looking to see how I’d look in it, and smiled more. The more she smiled, the more nervous I was getting, as I tried to ignore that the diaper I was currently wearing was poofing out the waist of the sleeper I couldn’t remove. Next she pulled out some plastic pants. “What are the differences between these?” “Well… some are bigger and fit over cloth diapers, and some are slimmer to go over disposables…” “And some are really, really cute!” She pulled out a pair of plastic pants with a print that matched one of the baby print onesies. Then came a stack of cloth diapers. “There are a… lot… of different diapers here…” “Well… some are thicker, and some are thinner, and some are prefolds, and some have velcro, and… well… I didn’t know what would work, or what I’d like.” “So, what do you like?” I shrugged. “I think they’re all… kind of the same… I guess.” “Do they keep the bed dry?” “Well, I wasn’t really doing scientific testing there… I wasn’t trying to have an accident… but… yeah, when it happened… the pin-on cloth ones worked the best, I think. The disposables leaked a lot.” Next were a few partially used bags of various disposables that I had tried. Some Abena, Tranquility, and some other drugstore brands. Some size 7 baby diapers. “Do these actually ft you?” I shook my head and mumbled. “Not really… at least, they didn’t work well overnight.” She pulled out changing pads and bed pads. She “Awww’d” at the large pacifier. Then she got to the items on the bottom. She pulled out a tangle of blue leather straps and looked at me inquiringly. Sigh. I let the wine talk for me. “A harness. Reins. Child leash.” She turned it around a few times until she was holding the shoulder straps, and it was clear how it fit on, clipping in the back, and a strap running through my crotch. “It, un, locks with this magnetic lock, here… and, yeah, these keep hands by your side.” She kind of smiled at the wrist straps, but still didn’t say anything. Some other similar items in the suitcase were pulled out and shown to be a matching leash, chair straps, and then bed straps. She just took it in, not offering commentary. Some mittens that could be locked on. Some booties that could be locked on, with marbles in the sole that would make standing difficult. “Well, that’s all. Not so bad, really.” She took most of the clothes into the wash room before returning, carrying a bed pad. “Are you ready for bed, babe? It's not that late, but you seem... well, that was quite a bit of wine." I nodded. "Let me help you to bed.” I nodded again. I was more than a little out of it due to both the wine and the emotional shock as I was guided up the stairs to our bedroom. I could feel the thick padding between my thighs. I could feel the sleeper pulling between my shoulders and my crotch, keeping things in place. I could not feel anything with my hands through the mittens as my wife helped me brush my teeth and was my face. I watched fuzzily as Karen laid the bed pad out before gently guiding me on to it. “Just in case I didn’t do a good job my first time. Love you.” She gave me a kiss on the lips, and I soon passed out. === I was being led around town, somewhat surprised that no one commented about the thick diaper clearly visible under the shorts I was wearing, with a button-down dress shirt on top and dress shoes tip-tapping on the sidewalk. It was probably because my wife was topless. I liked walking through town with my wife. My wife was holding my hand. “I need to use the restroom,” I said, as I saw a rest area on our right next to the kite store. I went into the restroom and began peeing in the urinal. Then I realized my pants were wet, because I was sitting on the bench and the ice cream had melted and dribbled on my pants. But it was OK because I just had to rinse them in the ocean. So I did. And they were wet, but clean. And my wife had really nice breasts, and I couldn’t wait to get home so that we could fool around in bed and I could see them and play with them. And things. And maybe also I could finish my taxes. And then the dream went in directions that were a lot less fun to relate.

For the second time in one day, Karen was waking me up because I had an accident. This time, though, she was not as gentle. “You wet. Again. The couch isn’t protected. Clean it up.” She handed me a wet cloth and a dry towel, and as my mind tried to claw its way from the deep sleep I was in, I did my best to clean the couch pillow while Karen watched. It ended up outside in the sun while I went upstairs to shower and change. It had been a long, long time since I had wet during the day. Well, heck, it had been a long, long time since I had had the chance to take a nap during the day. Worse, though, I couldn’t ever remember wetting twice in one day. I hung my head and let the warm shower wash over me. When I had thrown on some clean clothes, I headed down to the kitchen. Karen was preparing dinner. I tried to talk about the lockdown, and what it meant, and what we were reading on twitter and such, but she just didn’t seem into it. She seemed cold and distant. I poured her a glass of white wine, which went down quickly, so I poured another. By the time we sat down for dinner and I was opening another bottle, Karen was starting to loosen up and relax. We talked about the plans we had around the house over the next two weeks, and potentially delaying a trip to the East coast to see my parents that we had planned. We did not, in any way, mention my wetting. That is, we didn’t mention it until the dinner was finished, the dishes were done, and we were on the couch, well into the third bottle. I mean, why not? What else were we going to do in lockdown? We were watching some random Youtube video. Suddenly she had that look on her face that I knew meant that she had arrived at some sort of conclusion. Then she looked at me. “So, let me ask you a question.” “Urm, OK?” “So. So. So I know that you don’t want to wear a… wear protection for your accidents. We’ve talked about it, and I understand that given what you go through in life because of your height and weight, you don’t want to wear a di… wear protection because you don’t want to be seen as a kid… or a baby… by others. I get that.” I nodded. I didn’t like these conversations. I know that they’re important, especially since we’re married and all, but, well, they always end up making me feel bad, like I’m demanding something that I shouldn’t from others. Or being unfair to them. Or unfair to myself. They always went the same way… she says she understands, but would like me to consider wearing something… I say no… and then we move on. It's a ritual we've had for the three years we've been married, and the years before that dating. “Yeah. I’m sorry I had the accidents today. But, yeah, you’re right. I’ve been fighting to be seen as an adult for so long and… well. Yeah. Ever since I was a teenager I’ve been fighting to not be seen as just a kid.” “I can understand that. And I’d never force anything that you didn’t want. But.” She took a long sip of wine, and I took that as a hint that I should too. “Back, before we were married, we had one conversation that I remember. Where we were drinking. And you admitted that you were curious about what it would mean to just let go, and wear and use… you know. Diapers.” I nodded cautiously. This was not the usual conversation. Of course I had that thought, though. Stop fighting my small bladder. Get the Goodnights. Give in. Stop fighting the accidents. How easy it would be to just… surrender. I had tried it, before we were married, and it had been remarkably effective at reducing my stress level. It had felt… good. This private discovery had, of course, led me to be even more insistent on putting up a public front against wearing them, even as I explored that aspect in private. She looked at me. “I found a suitcase. In the garage. It had some of your… stuff.” I looked at her. My inebriated state didn’t allow me to shield the “Uh Oh” in my look. My wince after realizing I was broadcasting the “Uh Oh” look probably didn’t help. “Urm… which suitcase?” “Is there more than one suitcase that you’d be concerned about?” “Urm…” “Huh. Well, the suitcase I found had some… things… in it that make me think you tried wearing protection before. And from the things you had in there… I think that maybe it wasn’t as bad as maybe you’ve said? Maybe?” “Urm… maybe…” She moved closer to me on the couch, hugging me close. “Can you tell me a little about it?” “Well, in college… I had been fighting so hard for years. I was very stressed out, before we met, and well, you know how hard it is for someone my size to get taken seriously. Everyone assumes I’m 10 or 12. Then I saw an ad… I think it was for Goodnights or something… and I saw in the ad a relaxed kid having a sleepover. Which is a major stress thing for me. You know that... Soon after that I saw some sort of thing online where I saw some adults acting as babies and wearing diapers, and they seemed so relaxed. And so I decided I would try it. And so I got some diapers. And to my surprise they kind of fit.” I paused. “And they felt good. I felt relaxed.” I paused again. The wine was definitely causing me to talk about things that I never had opened up about before. I hoped I didn’t regret it in the future. “And I wished there was someone to take care of me like I had seen, because I was so tired of fighting to not be taken care of.” I looked at Karen, who didn’t say anything, but her look of caring and love conveyed what she was thinking, so I continued. “So I got a few other things that you probably found in that suitcase, because I didn’t know what would make me happy, but I wanted to see.” I waited for her to speak. She spoke softly. “That makes sense. I think I can understand why you didn’t tell me before, and why you fight so hard against it. It must be difficult.” I just nodded. “Why did you stop? Did you stop?” “Well… you, actually. When we started dating, I put all that away, because I thought I couldn’t risk you seeing me as a kid. I wanted you to see me as… me.” “But you didn’t get rid of it?” “No…” “But I know you as you, now, right? It doesn’t change who I know you as, the wonderful person I married. I found that suitcase a few weeks ago, and I’ve been trying to think about what to do about it. What’s fair. I think this lockdown might give us an opportunity. I’d like to make you an offer.”

I've been playing with this story idea for a while. I still don't have a title... I had been calling it "Lockdown", but that title was recently taken, so now I need another one. Comments and feedback are, of course, strongly encouraged... ======================== It was a great day. My contract was finally ending, and my manager had confirmed that the customer had signed off on a very significant bonus. What had started as a lucrative 6 month project had turned into 12, and then 18 months of no vacations, rarely a full weekend off, and lots and lots of overtime. On the bright side, my bank account was in great shape, my loans were paid off, and I was looking at getting a new car for the first time ever. But, I really, really needed a break. A quick call to my wife let her know that I was grabbing dinner for tonight, and with a smile and a hop in my step I entered the grocery store. A bouquet of roses. Steaks. A bagged salad. A good bottle of wine. A second good bottle of wine. Some chocolates. And, as an impromptu purchase, a balloon with “I Love You” on it. I guess it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was on my mind as I made my way through the checkout line, paid, and drove the short distance home. “Karen! I’m free! I’m free! No more work for me! Yipee!” I shouted as I came in the door. Placing the groceries on the table, I gave my wife a hug and kiss. She still smelled of sawdust, not yet having cleaned up after coming in from the barn housing her workshop in our backyard. I got the meal ready while she showered, and when she returned wearing some clothing that left little of her beautiful body to the imagination, the evening progressed much as I had hoped for. Soon, we were laying in bed next to each other, cuddling. “So, you think that they’re actually going to lock down the whole state like China did? Can they even do that?” The worry in my voice must have come through. “Well, it’s probably the best thing. If they can do it. I don’t know if it’s even legal. But we’ll be OK.” She hugged me close, my head landing on her oh-so-comfortable chest. “At least my contract is done. We can just hang here. It can’t be more than 2 weeks or so, right? That’s what people are saying.” “Well… I don’t know. The way the government has been handling this, I tend to doubt there’s a real plan to begin with. At least I can just work here, and you were going to take some time anyway. So, we’re set, right?” “I guess so.” I paused. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?” She hugged me closer. “I’m sure we can find a way of making it fun. Wouldn’t want you to get bored.” I kissed her, and snuggled closer. “Yeah, that would be terrible.” And we both fell asleep. ==== The next morning, Karen was gently trying to wake me. I quickly realized why as I felt the wetness around me. Crap. “Oh. I’m so sorry honey.” She gave me a kiss on my forehead while allowing me to wake up a little more. “It’s ok. Not a big deal. You didn’t get me this time.” “Oh. Good. I. Uh. OK, let me clean up and I’ll take care of it.” Well, today was off to a pretty bad start. Sigh. She kissed me again. “Go shower, babe. I’ll throw this in the wash.” I moved the wet covers to see my sopping wet boxers. The waterproof mattress cover ensured that there was a puddle of my pee right under me. “Um, could I get a” “Towel? Yeah, just a second.” She disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a bath towel. “Just leave the underwear there. I’ll throw them in with the sheets.“ I stripped down, wrapped the towel around myself, and did the walk of shame to the bathroom for a shower. A few minutes later I was downstairs, refreshed, making coffee and a bagel. I could hear the washing machine start, and Karen joined me in the kitchen. I gave her the first brewed cup, and then poured another for myself. I was feeling down, as I always am after waking up after one of my accidents. Not that I have many accidents, of course. They’re rare. I mean, there was that one other this week, but it had been… a month since the last time, and like three months before that. So it’s not like I’m a regular bed wetter, or anything. I just have some occasional accidents. But it still makes me not feel great about myself. She put her non-coffee-holding arm around me in a half hug. Neither of us were the type to put coffee down, even for a hug. “It’s not a big deal.” She always says that, of course. “It is the second time this week, though. Are you OK?” I nodded. “Yeah. I guess the wine just got to me, or something. Sorry.” “It’s OK.” She paused. “The governor is supposed to make some kind of announcement later today. Maybe you should go get some groceries? A week or so worth? Just in case, you know. Maybe go to Costco?” “Probably a good idea. I should go do that now before the crowds get worse…”, and so after a second cup of coffee I gave her a kiss, collected my wallet and jacket, and headed out the door. Everyone else had the same idea, of course. Costco was mobbed, with everyone grabbing everything as though they wouldn’t be able to shop for weeks. There was enough meat, veggies, bread, and of course alcohol left that I got most of what we’d need to avoid shopping for a few weeks, if it came to it. We had a chest freezer in Karen’s workshop that could hold a lot of food, so why not. As an afterthought, I grabbed one of the last packages of toilet paper before the mob wiped the store out. Why was there a run on toilet paper? What the hell? It’s not like this virus gave you diarrhea or something. As I walked past the diaper aisle, I paused and thought for a fleeting second about picking up a package of Goodnights. Karen was very tolerant of my accidents, but she of course didn’t like waking up wet, and had in the past suggested that maybe, perhaps, I should consider wearing some protection. With a shiver I continued on. I was not ready for that. I mean, I sometimes wore them if we were travelling or something, but those were special cases. Not at home. As I was getting ready to brave the long checkout line, I realized that the mornings’ coffee was ready to come out. Parking my cart on the side I used the facilities, only to return to see that someone had taken the toilet paper from the bottom of my cart. And, of course, there was none left now. Argh. Time to get out here before they took my sanity along with the toilet paper. After a few other stops, I finally returned home. I found Karen in the barn listening to a stream of the governor speaking. “And so therefore, I am directing all citizens to shelter in place … Only essential workers may travel… orders shall stay in effect....” “So, it’s begun, eh?” She turned to me from the cabinet base she had been working on, her eyes betraying her anxiousness. “Yeah, it looks like it. Everything is shut down. Everything. Did you get groceries?” “Everything but the toilet paper. Someone stole that. It’s a mob scene out there.” She looked at me, incredulous. “Someone stole your toilet paper? Do people think that COVID gives you the runs or something? What the hell?” I laughed. “Yeah, that was exactly my thought. It was on my cart, but I had to leave it to use the restroom, and when I came back…” “Wow.” “Yeah. Wow. Glad I’m back now.” We hugged. I looked her in the eyes. “This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sigh. “Yeah. It’s unprecedented here in so many ways. And… well… I don’t think people are going to do well with it.” “Can you help me get the rest of the groceries? What’s left in the car needs to go in the chest freezer, I think, and, urm.” I gestured to the box I had brought in. “There are two more boxes in the car. I’ll go get those.” Karen laughed. “Of course, honey.” She took the box over to the freezer and started unloading as I brought the other two boxes in, loaded with frozen food. I look over the edge of the freezer. This is where my height was a problem, of course. At only four and a half feet, only my shoulders were above the freezer, and I couldn’t really reach in to help without going to get a stool. Oh well. I was used to having others handle these kinds of things; it was just easier, really. Most of the time my small stature didn’t matter, but there were some things that were just not designed for short people. Lunch was a quick sandwich affair, and then she was back to work. She had talked to her company, but since she was working in her own shop here the shutdown didn’t really change anything for her. If anything, would give her a chance to catch up while everyone else paused. I, on the other hand, was bound and determined to not let a little lockdown get in the way of my hard-earned time off. So, groceries put away and lunch cleaned up, I lay down with a book, and promptly fell asleep.

Nicely done. I liked the writing style; thanks for sharing!

Yep, I'll wet when I sleep, no matter the location. Couch, car, airplane... if I drift off, there's a chance... This means that even sitting on the couch watching football on a Sunday morning like today, I need to have a diaper (cloth pull-up) on... also, diapers are mandatory when I'm flying, or in the car and not driving, etc. This was one of the aspects I hadn't really considered when I made myself a sleep-wetter 20 years ago, and is one of reasons I really wish I could get dry again...

Getting thick diapers dry is a challenge. The best way I've found in the summer is putting them on a rack in the sun. In the winter, they sit on a rack inside over a heater vent. These days I don't usually use thick diapers, though... I've found 2-3 thinner diapers easier to get a comfortable and effective fit with, and much, much easier to wash and dry.

Nope. About twenty years ago I trained myself into bedwetting. It's a decision I would take back now, if I could. The idea of permanent incontinence would have enticed me back then, but not a chance at this point. Now, if there were a magic pill I could take to stop the bedwetting, now that would be interesting... but not something for this particular sub-forum!

I'll just echo this as some who did train myself to sleep-wet... and the the thing to stress is that indeed, at least for me, it's not just "wetting at night", it's wetting any time I sleep... napping on the couch if I fall asleep while watching football, on a plane, or in the car. I've tried to reverse it, especially while my child was getting out of diapers and becoming dry at night, but have been unsuccessful. As I've said before, if I had to make the decision again knowing what I know 20 years later, I wouldn't go down that path. That said, it took me somewhere in the range of a year or so before I was wetting consistently. I used the typical tools of drinking water before bed, going to bed needing to pee a little, wetting my diaper before falling asleep, and setting alarms at random times between 1-4am that woke me up enough to pee in bed and then immediately going back to sleep. I also tried hypnosis, although I think that was more a mental/commitment thing than having any real affect. It started after a few months with an occasional, "I don't remember wetting that much", to realizing I was sometimes already wet when the middle-of-the-night alarm went off, to, at some point, realizing that the alarm wasn't necessary.

I would not have trained myself back into sleep wetting back in my late 20's. Seemed like a good idea for a while, but after much thought, and 20 years on, it's now something I regret. Instead, I would have wished I was more comfortable talking with my wife much earlier about the details of why I liked to wear diapers, and explored it that way.

It sounds like it's not everyone's experience, but I trained myself to wet at night without any issues during the day. This was about 20 years ago, but I did it through a combination of alarms (wake up and wet), hypnosis (don't know if it actually helped), water before bedtime, and time. I don't know why some people have accompanying daytime issues and I don't, but I'm quite happy with this outcome...

Before the pandemic I flew all the time, both domestic and international. United 1K. I am almost always diapered when I fly. Assuming you don't have pre-check, the body scanners may well pick up a wet diaper, flagging you for a pat-down. They will not react to a dry diaper. I would strongly suggest changing before you go through the security checks. The snaps on onesies won't cause any problems. There is less metal there than a normal zipper, or the rivets on jeans. Don't worry about that. TSA is fine on this; they're professional. Well, they don't really care. Which is different, but same end result... they won't say anything about your diaper.

For bedwetting, I tried pocket and other styles of washable diapers, but the lack of absorbency on the side guarantees leaks, for the same reason as disposables leak for me...

I expect that my response will be too late (given that you said "later this week" and it's Friday now, but I want to chime in for posterity. There is no "Diaper Police". There is nothing that says that if you're not 24/7/365 with ZERO exceptions for the rest of your life that you get a trophy. There is nothing "requiring" you to do anything at all. It's perfectly fine if you want to acknowledge that, while wearing diapers "most" of the time helps your psyche, there are times when it just doesn't make sense, and you don't need to wear them without exception. Perhaps doctors are an exception for you. For Little Sherri it sounds like running is an exception. And that's great... it means that diapers are a part of your life, not your entire life, and when the time isn't right to wear them you don't. That sounds sane and balanced to me. Anyway, I hear the normally-sane @rusty pins saying, "Shit or get Off The Pot", and I have to wonder, in this case, "why?". I mean, why take such an uncompromising view?

I have to say that I don't care what the title is, and I don't know how you write like this. It's wonderful. Cheers!

I'm liking the story... it reminds me a lot of a book who's name I'm failing at googling right now where a guy figures out how to manipulate a computer program that controls reality and goes back to the middle ages to be a wizard. Good writing so far, and I'm looking forward to more!

OK, wrapping this up. I had been hoping to expand/extend this ending before posting (it's more of a framework), but the circumstances I've found myself in over the last few weeks/month have realistically made that a non-starter. So, I'm just going to paste what I've got, call it done, take a bow, and move on. I hope those of you who have followed this have enjoyed it. Stay safe, everyone. Chapter 23: New Beginnings When we arrived home, Jenn had released Karen so that she could get ready for work on Monday. I could see Karen hesitate a little before using the key Jenn provided to remove her collar, but life needed to go on, and we had a busy week of packing ahead of us. Karen was busy again at work, leaving early and getting back late, so I saw little of her. The pile of boxes in the garage grew as Jenn prepared to move. I tried to help, but mostly Jenn left me on the Pet Run out back with a book or music going; there wasn’t much I could really usefully accomplish. We were leaving Friday afternoon, hoping to get there on Saturday so that Karen could help move in before flying home on Sunday. As I was being diapered in a thick disposable for the ride, I was not surprised to see Karen grab a diaper, winking and giving me a “shhhh” before heading to the bathroom. When she reappeared her dress gave little indication of what was under it. Soon we had said our goodbyes to Joe and Valerie, Jenn threw the last bag into the stuffed car, and I was loaded into the carrier to head North. It was Jenn, of course, who dictated the first potty stop, and laughed when she found out what was hiding under Jenn’s dress. “Well, whatever works for you, sis,” was her only response. Karen tried to get Jenn to wear one as well, but Jenn gave a “hard no” on that one. The hotel and the rest of the trip was uneventful, other than Jenn jokingly ordering a second pet cage for Karen to sleep in at the hotel… which she didn’t. But she did wear a diaper, as far as I could tell, the whole time. We arrived on Saturday evening, as planned. I was so happy to get out of the damn Pet carrier and couldn’t wait for a dry diaper after the long, long drive. I knew that Kendra, Jenn’s roommate-slash-unnanounced-significant-other had arrived early in the week and had been preparing the place for us. Jenn was clipping my leash on and Karen was getting her bag from the back when the front door opened and a stunning brunette appeared. “Hi Jenn! Hi JayJay! Welcome home!” She came down the path and then turned. “You must be…. Karen….” I had seen this look before. I had seen this look before in Jenn’s eyes. I had seen this look before in Jenn’s eyes when we Bonded. My eyes grew wide. What… I thought, as I turned to see where she was looking. And there was Karen. And now I knew what I had looked like when I had Bonded. I looked at Jenn. “Well, at least she’s already wearing a diaper.” Epilogue The details of who will be Bound, and who will be Keeper and who will be a Pet is still not well understood, but anecdotally it seems that often Keeper and Pet both fill the need the other might not have even known they had. After looking at a Keeper/Pet pair, one could usually find that both were providing what the other needed. Sometimes you had to look deeper, but in Kendra and Karen’s case it was easy to see how the Bond made them both so much more complete. Two sisters, one a Keeper, one a Pet, in the same house, was an interesting experience. It was easy to predict that Karen would settle in as a Pet more quickly than I had, and indeed she took to it as if she had been born that way. Which, I guess, she might well have been. She seemed positively relieved as Kendra locked her collar on to her neck, jingling with her shiny new registration tags. Jenn and Kendra (who went by Ken… Jenn and Ken…) finished their school; with Karen and I already having graduated, we helped them with their studies, and they finished a semester early. They were married a month later, with Karen and I proudly taking the role of ‘Best Pets’. In the end, Karen and I did get to spend our lives together. Not exactly as we’d planned, of course, but in the end, it wasn’t all that bad being a Pet. Especially when you’re with your best friend. While-the-credits-are-rolling Interstitial Karen was on top of me, riding me, as we both rode the edge of fuzzing out. Finally, her back arched, with a muffled “Aggmmmmmmffff” coming though the effective gag she wore. She collapsed onto me, her pink leash falling onto my chest. Jenn looked at Kendra as they sat on the couch, watching us to make sure it didn’t get out of hand. “Jeez, don’t you ever take care of my sister?!?!" Kendra laughed. “Well… it’s lucky she has a friend. I certainly can’t keep up with her!” Karen lay on top of me, recovering. “M MMMM mm mm” (Subtitle: I LOVE Pet sex!) I responded in kind, as I felt the pad under me grow warm as one of us peed. “Mmm mm.”