Personalias

1. Why am I the only one who uses my real name? 2. Rock Paper Scissors does not compute? Ha! Knew you were a Square duck machine! 3. I knew I was crazy to think others like me existed. Rubber room in my future? By room do you mean pants? 4. Machines are nicer than people? That is yet to be proven except when conveyor belts and cartoon gloved hands are involved. 5. For a simple explanation that got really wordy. TLDR. If only there was a function where people could meet in public and meet face to face. Maybe have something to eat. But since I am now convinced that none of this is real, well that would never happen. 6. The premise could be awkward. What if other people- who clearly don't exist as we have already established but this is hypothetical- only have the diaper or age play in common? I'm reasonably sure that there are gay people in this world who don't just hang out and talk about being gay. If they have nothing else in common besides the thing that puts them in a societal subgroup...lunch is gonna get quiet.

So if I'm reading this right Mr Square Duck IF THAT IS YOUR REAL NAME is that there are only two real people on this thread. Rock Paper Scissors to see who wins. You type your answer in first and then I'll type in mine. We're on the honor system here. Ps. Wouldn't also known as Abdl for like minded people be akaabdlflmp instead of aka Abdl? I feel like your tacking on the for like minded people part without abbreviating it as part of the acronym...rather like a machine....

I'm oddly comforted by that.

I'll need time to do my list...kind of lame I know. I'm just surprised that so far, everyone has chosen just one must read. Though excellent following the rules about specifics. Thanks.

By "real people". Do you mean actors? Cuz I don't count those. Ps. What's an aka abdl?

Wait...you mean you people are all real?

So I saw this topic on another site, and I'd figure I'd bring it here. If someone asked you what stories of this genre were "must reads", what would you recommend? More importantly, why? just if you had to give someone a tour of Abdl stories, which ones would you take them to and why those stories or authors in particular? Oh, and since I'm starting this discussion on this thread. I have two ground rules. 1. No plugging or dissing yourself. We are all either our greatest fan or our worst critic. Sometimes both. If others wanna mention your work, that's their opinion 2. Be specific. "Oooooo it's so awesome!" Does not help. If you like the characters or the way the author turns a phrase say it. If you just read this stuff to fap but this one story you know is a box of golden smut to you because it pushes all the right buttons at all the right times, then that's cool too. Now let the listing begin!

Go to an age play con or an Abdl con.

See above

Chapter 5: Lunch with Dad It was eerily quiet on the car ride home. The girls were both burrowing into their respective books, Roxanne was focused on driving, and only a Raphey CD played for Chris's benefit broke the silence. Christopher Cole IV wasn't listening though. Instead, Chris sat silently in his giant car seat, contemplating the upcoming lunch with his father. When he had woken up this morning (to his delight no less) as a giant baby, Chris hadn't figured the fantasy would last this long. Everything from after he was carried out of a macro-sized nursery had been a surprise at this point. Most of the stories he read online were either intensely intimate and private, or intensely public and humiliating. This had been both and neither at the same time. It had been intimate at the beginning, and became increasingly public. Then again, his sisters (who had not been part of the original fantasy script) had cared for him out of a sense of responsibility and knowing they'd be rewarded for it by their mother. There was nothing wrong with that, and Chris remembered sitting for the girls when he was in middle and high school due to similar obligations and selfish motivations-it didn't mean he hadn't loved his little sisters. But in the stories, the baby was always the center of everyone's world, either to the delight or the chagrin of the main character being regressed or babied. This morning, he had definitely been babied, but was otherwise being ignored provided he stayed quiet, much like the real deal. Furthermore, while the public change in the parkingllot had been humiliating; it had been a private and rather low key humiliation, as had the rest of the public outing. It wasn't like he was being carted around and people were gawking or laughing. It's not like his babyishness was being pointed out constantly and mocked. Instead, his humiliation was his own and was neither purposefully provoked or prolonged and went unnoticed. So perhaps the word "humiliated" was a bit hyperbolic. "Embarrassed" was a more apt description. That brought Chris to his current predicament: His father. Chris had a slightly complicated relationship with his dad- him having the hots for his step-mother not withstanding. Their relationship wasn't cold and distant or hot and tempered. It had been lukewarm for as long as the young man could remember. As a pre-med student, Chris was becoming the next chain in a long line of "Dr. Cole"s. He had that much in common with his father; and that's where many of the similarities ended. For some reason, the Cole men had a well deserved reputation for making stoic and tight-lipped look gregarious. The opening scene from almost every episode of "King of the Hill" with the four men drinking beer and saying "yup" was more talkative than Dr. Cole. Relatives on Roxanne's side of the family would always joke that Dad's tombstone would read: DR CHRISTOPHER COLE III M.D. DIDN'T COMPLAIN, DIDN'T EXPLAIN. One of the few things that Chris's father actually got talkative about was his job. Chris supposed that was one of the many reasons why he had been studying to become a doctor. Yeah, it was kind of expected of him like a family business, but more importantly it would give him and his dad something to talk about beyond the initial handshake, "Hello", and "How's School?". In this current situation, Chris wouldn't even get that much. Chris thought back to when the girls were little and seemed to remember Dad doing his fair share of cooing and playing with them; but did he really want that? Being infantilized by his step-mom was both erotic and oddly comforting. The same treatment by his little sisters was at least kind of fun in that he now had the opportunity to pay them back for some of the heck they put him through. Granted that didnt work out so well with Bri- but he still got to experience being the sibling without responsibilities or expectations. Did he really want that same experience with his father? To be gushed over and treated like...well a baby? More than anyone else, Chris had intended to hide his fetish from his father; his role-model of manliness. How humiliating and emasculating would it be to be found out like that? No, he didn't consider himself a "sissy" in the ab/dl sense of the word....though he doubted few people outside the ab/dl community would make that distinction. He imagined that his father would have preferred to hear "Dad, I'm gay." over "Dad, I want to be treated like a baby." There were plenty of gay people out in the world who for all intents and purposes were still as conservative, white-collar, and WASPy outside of the bedroom. Chris considered himself very open minded, liberal, and accepting of others. You kind of had to be if you had a fetish- in his mind anyway. It would have been hypocritical of him to take a stance like "I may like wearing diapers and sleeping in cribs, but at least I don't have sex in a bear costume." or even "I might pretend to be a baby, but at least I pretend to be a baby boy" Instead Chris had inwardly and outwardly resolved to take the stance of "I don't get the appeal myself, it's not my thing, but more power to you if it makes sense and appeals to you as long as you're not hurting anybody." Isn't that how life in general should be? But at the same time, Chris couldn't bring himself to out himself or become anything more than a passive head nodder activist. He had had nightmares about being outed in front of his father and just silently stared down as something less than a man in his father's eyes- something less than human even. As the car pulled into the garage, Chris had the distinct feeling that this was going to be one of those nightmares. Logically, whatever mechanism was making the whole world see him as a baby should also affect his father, but logic dictated that none of this should be happening in the first place. Chris felt his diaper squish as Roxanne picked him up and it crinkled a little less loudly than before. Sometime during the car ride home Chris had wet his pants and hadn't taken the time to realize it or enjoy it. He hoped that meant that Roxanne would change him again, if only to buy more time before the inevitable occurred. Maybe he'd wake up sticky and in his own bed right as the new diaper was being taped into place. At this point though, Chris would have settled for waking up in his own bed having accidentally wet and pooped in his sleep. No such luck though. As they entered the house through the garage, Roxanne took a left towards the kitchen instead of the right that would have lead to the nursery. Chris took a deep breath, whether to brace himself or to start wailing as a distraction, he wasn't sure, but by the time he had inhaled it was too late. Standing in the kitchen, dressed in his typical "casual wear" which meant slacks, belt, loafers, button up shirt and NO tie, was Chris's father- Dr. Christopher Cole III, M.D. The apple didn't fall far from the tree in regards to looks. Father and son looked very much alike. Similar facial structure, nose, even eye color. But while Chris wore his chestnut brown hair in almost a mop-top, Dr. Cole kept his hair this side of buzz cut. Either Dad had aged well, or he had found a hair dye that matched Chris's particular hair perfectly. But who the heck dyed a buzz cut? Also like father like son, neither of the Cole men had a beard. Facial hair was not a strong suit in the Cole family. Cole had tried growing out a full beard his freshman year of college and after weeks was rewarded with only a patchy and discolored goatee that combined with his mop top to make Chris more than resemble a certain cartoon character that was constantly being chased by ghosts along with his talking Great Dane. Dr. Cole wisely kept his professional look clean shaven. "Hi Daddy", Samantha said looking up from her book. "Hi Dad," Brianna echoed. "Girls," their father said in acknowledgement, "went to the library I see. Get any good books?" "Yeah." they both said before trotting off to the dining room table. Maybe Chris was the oddball in the family and it just wasn't normal to talk more than a few words a a time. Dad laid eyes on Chris and walked up to him. Chris braced himself and bit his lip in nervous apprehension. "There's my big boy!" Dad said with a big smile on his face. He tousled Chris's hair and looked to Roxanne. "What's for lunch?" Wait. That was it? All that for nothing? Sheesh, that was about as terrifying as it was rewarding and reaffirming....it wasn't. "Well we have plenty of fried chicken left over from a couple of nights ago," Roxanne said. I figured we could reheat it and have the rest for lunch." Chris's dad nodded briefly, then said "Don't worry about it. Tastes better cold than reheated." He gave Roxanne a peck on the cheek and went over to the fridge. Chris found himself being carried over to the dining room, as Sammy drug the oversized high chair to the table with one hand. Roxanne patted his crotch and squeezed the front of his diaper. "You'll be okay till after lunch." she told him as she buckled him into the high chair. Chris's mouth began to water as Dad returned to the table with a tray of refrigerated fried chicken. He licked his lips absentmindedly. Surely they'd give some to him, even if it was cut up into little pieces. Samantha giggled a little bit, she seemed to pick up. "Mom, I think Chris wants some fried chicken too," she informed as Roxanne returned with a plastic bowl and spoon in hand. "Well, I think he might still be a little too young for fried chicken, honey," Roxanne told her eldest daughter, "but it's nice of that you're thinking of your brother." A bowl of discolored mush was put in front of Chris instead. Chris couldn't help but frown and was rewarded with Bri giggling as she took a bite into a left over drumstick. "So," Dad began once everyone- except Chris- had a piece of chicken on their plate, "what did you get at the library?" "Drawing book." said Brianna curtly between mouthfuls. Dad nodded in a feigning interest sort of way. "I got the next Warriors book," Sammy cut in. "Oh?" said Dad. "Yeah, it's about-" Sammy then went into a detailed chapter by chapter recap of not only the entire book thus far but also important plot points that were tie ins from previous books in the series." Clearly Sammy had yet to fully grasp the art of summarizing, especially to a room full of people that did not especially care about the damn book. Chris, for his part, allowed Roxanne to spoon feed him the mush in between bites of her own leftover chicken. He had already learned the hard way that he didn't have much of a choice. Besides, it wasn't that bad. It was some kind of pureed and starchy vegetable based on the taste, but it still had more flavor than the pablum he'd been given this morning. Roxanne was continually whispering things like "There's a good boy," and "good baby", and "just a couple more big boy bites." and other such nonsensical praises with each spoonful. Chris had never felt so accomplished with the simple act of eating a meal. "Your chicken's gonna be warm again by the time you're finished, Sammy" Chris interjected between spoonfuls of baby food. Unsurprisingly, Sammy ignored his comment as gibberish as did the rest of the table. Chris "harumphed" to himself as his witty remark went unnoticed and unheeded. Honestly, this day so far had been a real mixed bag. It felt very much like the kind of day he had expected to wake up to when he when he went to sleep: Breakfast, a little quality time with the siblings, and a pretty typical lunch, silent father included. Only now, he couldn't really participate in any of the conversations and goings on as much as observe them. It honestly kind of sucked. A sudden and growing need to urinate reminded Chris that not everything was the same at the moment. With guilty anticipation he looked around the table before his aching bladder had let loose. It had been a mere few seconds but it felt as if he had been holding it forever. A quiet hiss filled Chris's ears as he released his stream into the already damp diaper. His nerve centers danced with pleasure as he felt the front of his crotch grow noticeably warmer and the sensation continued down into his backside. He sighed and grinned to himself, noticing that no one had heard it, or at least cared. Then again, there were some fringe benefits to this scenario. His thumb slid up to his mouth and he began to suck on his thumb, loving just how little it made him feel. Roxanne noticed and put down the spoon for a moment so that she could eat her own lunch. On one hand, he was in a high chair, wearing a wet diaper, eating spoon fed mush and sucking on his thumb. That was kind of weird. On the other hand, he was in a high chair, wearing a wet diaper, eating spoon fed mush and sucking on his thumb! That was all kinds of awesome! Funny how the same phrase could be viewed differently by two different parts of his psyche. It's almost as if he was both an adult AND a baby...oh wait. Yeah. "Speaking of the library," Roxanne cut in when Sammy was finally done ranting about a book that only she read, "little Chris here seems to have learned a very bad thing from one of his sisters." "Oh?" Dad said looking up from his plate. The girls immediately started pointing fingers at each other, grimacing in fear and not saying anything. "Girls," Roxanne cocked an eyebrow, "which one of you taught Chris that?" "Taught Chris what?" Dad asked, since no one had come out and said anything yet. Chris took that as his cue. PFHHHH! Chris blew into his thumb like it was a balloon and popped his middle finger up into the air. He popped his thumb out of his mouth and pretended to tie it off before folding it back over his pointer finger. There was exactly three seconds of stunned silence before the girls and Roxanne all erupted into surprised, shocked, and hilarious laughter. The table shook as Sammy and Bri both beat it with their fists for emphasis. Only Dad didn't laugh. Soon no one was. Chris gulped a little, and he wasn't sure, but he think he might hae wet a little more. "Well," he spoke as the laughter died down into dreadful silence. "So long as he doesn't make it a habit by pre-school, I think we can let it slide." Everyone let a sigh when Dad half-smiled and stood up from the table. Apparently lunch was over. Dad walked out of the dining area toward the living room and sat in his favorite chair before turning on the TV. Roxanne cleared away dishes and took them over to the sink. Brianna walked up to the highchair and plopped a torn off piece of white meat with a little skin on Chris's tray. Roxanne was still busy rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. Sammy was sitting at the table still, but once again engrossed in her book. "Funny baby get chicken." she growl-whispered in one of her chipmunk voices, before walking away. Chris unhesitatingly popped the meat in his mouth and began chewing. After nothing but mush all day, this was a gourmet treat. His taste buds cheered as the flavor of fourteen original herbs and spices coated his tongue. Big sister or little sister, whichever, he loved Bri at that moment. Roxanne returned with a larger than normal baby bottle, filled with apple juice. She wiped Chris's mouth with a bib and then handed him the bottle while she slid the tray away and unbuckled him from his high chair. Chris greedily gulped down the apple juice while she did so. He continued downing the stuff while Roxanne picked him up, and he could really feel the wet diaper sagging between his thighs. Chris was not surprised when Roxanne walked him back into the nursery and laid him down on the changing table. He wasn't surprised when the strap came across his belly and his shorts came down. He kept drinking from the bottle while his step-mother removed the sodden undergarment and started wiping him down. He was drinking from a bottle while getting his diaper changed. A new high or low, depending on how you thought of it. Chris was mildly surprised and disappointed that he didn't wake up from this dream world as another new Pampers was brought up between his legs and taped in place. It would've been nice to end the dream on a high note, as it were. Chris was even more surprised when Roxanne didn't put his shorts back on. Instead she picked him up and brought him over to the crib he had woken up this morning. "Nap time," she whispered as she laid him down. She reached over and handed him his old teddy bear, Wubby. She yawned, and said "Mommy needs a nap too." Chris yawned back, yawns being contagious and all. Chris felt very tired suddenly. Maybe it was all the stress of this dream, or whatever it was. Maybe he had a baby's sleeping habits to go with the lack of bladder control, muscle strength, and inability to read. Maybe he was just tired. Regardless the reason, Chris felt a great sense of peace enter him as he closed his eyes and cuddled his teddy close and fell asleep.

A few notes before posting the next chapter. 1. OMG. CS Fox? THE CS Fox? YOU DO EXIST! I feel like I have awoken one of the OLD ONES from their slumber in the ancient city of Ryleh and now the Eye of Sauron is staring down at me from the peaks of Mordor. (Sorry, FTT was the first AB/DL site that I found and visited with any regularity.) Thought I got all the geekouts out of my system the first tme around with Dante's Infanzia. Apparently I was wrong. 2. My apologies to all of my fans/friends/supporters/peers/fellow writers/etc. I've gotten less active and less thankful on this thread, for a variety of simple but shallow reaons. A. My wife, Mamalias, has been hogging the iPad, and so it's been hard to get it long enough other than a quirky comment or two, and thus this story has progressed more slowly than I had hoped. B. I've been trying to avoid reaching my 100th post here cuz "WAAAAAAH! I DON'T WANNA BE A BEDWETTER. I was fine with being a toddler and wetting during the day too. But I'm biting the bullet now, so don't expect me to shut up anytime soon. 3. Messyman, you wondered if I was going to finish Bagman. Well, you'll have to be patient but I fully intend to. I might even work the character in this story down the road...don't no how....no promises...but being a comic fan having an extended story universe is kind of a knee jerk reaction. PM me some time if youd like. 4. Lastly, thank you to everyone who has been reading this so far and commenting. So far, for this story, this board has been particularly good to me in regards to specific and constructive feedback. More of it is welcomed and appreciate. I just wanted to take the time and give my sincere thanks to this community. Now on with the show.

Here's the next installment. Oh no. I'm almost a "bed wetter"! No fair no fair! Chapter 4: Library. Chris sulked in his step-mother's arms. Despite being in a clean diaper, the recent memory of soiling himself and being changed in the parking lot had yet to fade away. The first diaper change this morning had been near heavenly, yet the second one - though near identical- had been amazingly awkward and embarrassing. Maybe because the first one had been expected as part of his fantasy, yet the second one hadn't. Granted, he expected to be changed after pooping his pampers, but the pooping itself had been unanticipated till it was too late to turn back. In front of his sisters, no less. Not for the first time, Chris wondered if this was a dream concocted by his imagination. He certainly didn't beat off to his sisters, that's for sure. Yet they were here, babying him right beside his step-mother. The little hairs on the back of Chris's neck stood on end as Roxanne carried him into the Library and the automatic doors whooshed open. Someone had turned the air all the way up, and the arid chill inside the building contrasted harshly with the humid heat outside. He shivered a little bit, and Roxanne gently rubbed his back. Soon, Chris could see row after row after row of books. Hardly surprising, all things considered, but Chris half-way expected the books to be bigger too, so many other things were. Chris looked around as Roxanne carried him, looking for her daughters. She was moving too fast for Chris to pick out any of the individual books, but the posters of Babar and Curious George to his left and the cardboard cutouts of Edward Cullen and Boba Fett to his right told Chris that they were likely in the children to tween section of the library. "Roxanne?" a voice called out. Roxanne stopped, and looked around. A woman in a pink Minnie-Mouse shirt, maybe a little younger than Roxanne, holding a little girl by the hand was walking towards them. The little girl wore a matching T-shirt. Oh God...she was one of THOSE moms. "Oh my gosh, Barbara?" Roxanne replied in recognition. " Hiiiiiiii!" both greeted in unison as they met. "It's been ages!" the other woman, Barbara exclaimed. Then Chris heard an audible gasp. "Roxanne? Is that Christopher?" Chris could feel his heart stop. Did whatever was making his family see him as a baby not afford him the same protection from strangers? "Yes it is," Roxanne nodded, oblivious to her friend's gasp. "Getting big isn't he?" "Getting big?" Barbara's voice echoed through Chris's head. "He's a grown ass man! Why are you holding him like a....is that a diaper he's wearing? Oh my God Roxanne, you are sick. Sick!" That's what Chris expected to hear. What he heard instead come out of Barbara's mouth was, "I know, right?! I almost didn't recognize him!" Chris's heart started back up. "And Angela has gotten so big too!" Roxanne said, indicating the little girl beside Barbara. The little girl, waved shyly and then hid behind her mother. "I know! Time just flies, doesn't it?" Barbara remarked, "She starts Kindergarten next year. It seems like just yesterday she was just a baby." The little girl peeked out from behind her mother, staring at Chris. "Time does fly," Roxanne confirmed. "Do you happen to know where my girls got off to?" she asked, changing the subject. "They bolted in here while I was changing Chris's diaper." "ROXANNE!" Chris shrieked. "PRIVATE!" Why did people do that regarding young children? No one else needed to know that Chris had just recently used his pants as the ultimate porta-potty. "Babies wear diapers," the little girl, Angela, said solemnly. "They don't how ta use the potty." Chris couldn't help but blush a little bit. "That's right, honey." The girl's mother praised. Then she leaned in close to Roxanne and whispered so that only Roxanne and Chris could hear. "She's been a little obsessed with babies lately. I think she's hinting that she wants a little brother or sister." Both women laughed. Chris only rolled his eyes at how he was now practically invisible in conversation. "Well, if you're gonna have another," Roxanne replied, "you might as well do it sooner than later. You don't want to get out of practice." "Oh, I know." Barbara agreed. "Sammy wasn't even all the way out of diapers when Bri came along, so the routine didn't stop. Buuuut-" Roxanne playfully looked at her step-son on her hip. "-when Chris was born, I had gotten used to big kids, and I had to get used to all the baby stuff again." "Hey," Chris said defensively, "it's not like I wished for....never mind." All Chris got was a quick round of cooing in reply. "Mommy," Angela said tugging on her mother's hand, "I could pretend to be a baby to help you practice." Barbara bent over to look her daughter in the eye. "That's sweet, Angie, but I'm happy with you being a big girl." "I know!" Roxanne chimed in, "Why don't we set up a playdate? Angela can get an idea of what it's like to be a big sister, and you and me can catch up on old times!" "That's a great idea," Barbara agreed. "Plus, I can get a little refresher on babies." Roxanne chuckled, "Very few things are 'fresh' around this little guy." Chris could only grumble as Barbara laughed in agreement. "Okay, we'll call you later," Barbara said by way of exiting. Chris hoped she forgot. "Okay, see you later!" Roxanne called back. She turned to Chris. "Now where did your sisters get to?" Clearly this was rhetorical. Chris was getting used to rhetorical questions. At least in most of the stories he read online, the main character wasn't alone in their babified state. They were either babified in some kind of prison (nope), being mentally regressed (um....not sure but for the most part nope), being physically regressed (unless his mind was just picturing himself as an adult to cope, nope), being purposefully babied by cruel parents as an overblown punishment (nope), or reality had altered (check) where everyone his age and younger was treated like a baby (nope). Though there was that one story where the girl's wish kept getting misinterpreted and twisted so she was being treated younger and younger and nobody seemed to notice. (Bingo) Damn. Chris read a lot of infantilist porn. Samantha wasn't all that hard to find. Chris instantly spotted her sitting on the floor by the shelves, her nose buried in a book with a "Warrior Cat" or some such tween nonsense on the cover. "There you are," Roxanne said, "Found what you were looking for?" Samantha just nodded as she continued to stare and turn the pages. "Where's Brianna?" Roxanne asked. Samantha just shrugged her shoulders, engrossed in her book. Roxanne sat Chris down besides his sister. "Look after your little brother, while I go look for Bri." Roxanne said before heading off. "Kay kay," Samantha said absentmindedly, still hypnotized by the words on the pages. Chris heard his pants crinkle as he shifted his weight. Samantha got like this sometimes, and there was no polite way to get her out of her trances. No polite way. "Damn," Chris leaned over, "how the hell did you get to the middle already?" Samantha ignored what must have been incoherent babble. "You're gonna need another book before we leave at this rate? Are these even on your reading level?" "Love you too, Chris," was the bored reply he got. Chris gritted his teeth. What was the point of being rude when no one could understand your snark? Then Chris was struck by inspiration. FWAP! Samantha's book fell to the floor, as Chris smacked it out of Sammy's hands. He smiled smugly as it tumbled out of her grasp. Samantha just sighed and picked up her book again and began reading it again. FWAP! Samantha turned and looked Chris in the eye. "What?" she asked incredulously. "Your mom told you to look after me." Chris said, "So LOOK after me." He crossed his arms over his chest indignantly. Sammy rolled her eyes, and smiled despite herself. It was hard to stay mad at a baby. "You want me to read to you, baby bro?" she asked. Chris nodded. "Then hold on, I'll go get you a book you'll like." Without a further word, Samantha sprung to her feet and trotted off towards the posters of Dr. Seuss. Wow...talk about irresponsible. Leaving her baby brother all alone. Hmm, how much of a baby was he? Time to experiment. Chris shifted his weight again. He could sit up on his own. Good. Chris rolled over onto all fours and took a few tentative crawl-steps. Easy enough. He was at least a crawler. Good. Chris leaned over and grabbed the nearest book shelf. Time for the big test. Chris pulled with all the might in his arms and pushed with all the might in his legs. Slowly. Very slowly, he stood. Chris grunted and strained as he lifted himself to his feet. He felt like he was about to break into a sweat. He feared briefly that he might poop his pants again. Finally, still clutching the shelf as a support brace, chris could feel the floor touching his bare feet. HE WAS STANDING. Chris imagined he was He-Man, he felt so strong. (I HAVE THE POOOOOOWER!). He threw his hands up into the air in celebration. Suddenly, he felt very wobbly. Images of Bambi on the ice flashed through his brain as his legs gave out and he tumbled back onto the Library floor. In his fantasies, this would normally be the part where he started tearing up, humiliated by his lack of coordination and just how far he'd slipped into infancy. Yeah...nope "Heheheheheheeeheeeheeehohohohohoho!" Chris giggled in glee. Damn, fantasy or not, this was awesome! Chris calmed down. From what he remembered of the girls' infancy, he figured he was somewhere between 6 and 9 months old. Old enough to crawl around with ease and stand with support, but walkinng was still a no go. Samantha came back with a book, and sat down beside Chris. Chris recognized the cover instantly. Her sister definitely had a thing for cats lately. She opened the book and pulled Chris closer, not quite in her lap. "The sun did not shine," she said, "it was too wet to play, so we sat in the house all that cold cold wet day." Classic. Classic. Chris leaned over to get a look at the book. He pretty much knew it by heart, but he wanted to get a look at the pictures. Chris's eyes bugged out of his head. The words. The words didn't make any sense. They looked like some weird cross between Chinese, Sanscrit, Hebrew, written Braile, and High Elvish. In other words, ito Chris's eyes it was complete chicken scratch. Chris stopped looking at the pictures and listening to the story and started focusing on the written words. Samantha "helpfully" traced along the scribbles with her finger. The way she read didn't make sense. Sometimes she was going left to right, other times she went right to left. Sometimes it was top to bottom, others it was bottom to top. On one page, the one with Things One and Two, her finger traced a counter clockwise spiral. He could feel his breath getting shorter and shorter. He was on the verge of hyperventilating. This must be some trick his brain was playing on him. It had to be. Chris vaguely remembered from his basic psychology classes that the side of the brain responsible for dreams was different from the side of the brain responsible for reading. Or maybe that was an episode of "Batman". Logically, this was evidence that Chris was still dreaming. His breathing started to slow as he reasoned the situation out. Then again, logic had little to do with this situation. That's when Brianna walked up and wordlessly took a seat on the floor next to her siblings. Based on the cover filled with sketches, Chris guessed it was a "How To Draw" book, though he couldn't be sure based on the writing. Strange markings surrounded the covers perimeter like Nordic Runes. Hyper Dislexia. "Hi Bri," both Chris and Samantha said in unison, though only one of them could be understood. "Hi," Brianna said, more to Sammy than to Chris. She plopped down next to Chris so that he was sandwhiched between the two of them. Chris smiled to himself. In another world, he'd be guarding them. "You know Mom is looking for you, right?" Samantha asked her sister. Brianna just grunted in reply and shrugged. Samantha shrugged in reply and slid the kiddie book into Chris's lap. "She'll find us eventually," she concluded before going back to her own book. Within moments, his youngest sister was busy flipping through the pages of the art book and paying him no mind. "Second verse, same as the first," Chris laughed. FWAP! Bri's book tumbled to the floor. She picked it up. FWAP! Again, Bri paid no mind and picked the book up again. She always was the more stubborn of the two. FWAP! Brianna picked up her hardcover drawing book and looked Chris dead in the eye. WOMP! Ow! Ow! Ow! The hell? Bri had taken her book and practically slammed it flat on top of Chris's head. That had hurt. Alot. "Must...not...cry..." Chris whispered through gritted teeth. "Won't...even...leave...a bruise." His vision blurred as he started to whimper and cry against his will. "That fuckin' hurt..." he murmured. Sammy's arms were enveloping him in an instant. His head was in her lap as she started shushing him and petting his head. "It's okay, Chris, it's okay." She shushed, "Bri!" she scolded, "What was that about?!" "He hit my book," Bri said matter-of-factly. "So you hit HIM?" Samantha asked, her voice raising. "Yup." answered Brianna, not raising her voice. "Bri! He's just a baby!" Samantha started to shriek, "He doesn't know what he's doing and he's not as strong as you." "Dumb baby." Bri grunted as she started to open her book again. Still smarting from the bop on the head and pissed at being called "dumb", Chris raised his right hand and gave Brianna the one finger salute. "Fuck you," Chris declared. Brianna's eyes widened in recognition. Apparently nothing in this dream had changed the meaning of THAT little gesture. "Ooooooh. I'm telling," Bri announced as she stood up. "Pffft! He's just a baby," Samantha rolled her eyes. "I'm telling on you!", Bri said before sprinting away. "What?!" Samantha yelled in disbelief before leaping to her own feet. "Stop! Come on Chris, let's get her." Chris found himself suddenly under his little sister's arm and bouncing up and down as she chased after Brianna. "Whoah, oah, oah oah, whoah!" he yelped. Despite being nearly twice her size and easily double her weight, she was carrying him like a football. Chris strained and squirmed, but it was no use. He craned his ned up to see where they were running too. Uphead was Roxanne with Brianna already pestering. "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mama, Mama, Mama, Ma-" she said. Roxanne held up her finger, and Brianna stopped. Roxanne looked to Samantha. "Samantha," Roxanne said in a concerned and stern tone, "that's no way to carry your baby brother." "Oh, sorry, Mom," Samantha said, before righting Chris and placing him on her hip, supporting his diapered butt with her hand. This was just ridiculous. Even being carried by her, Chris was still easily a head taller than her while sitting. Roxanne looked back down to Brianna. "Now what did you want to tell me?" she asked Brianna. "Chris flipped me off." Brianna said curtly. "He stuck up his middle finger at me." "Samanthaaaaa..." Roxanne narrowed her eyes. "What?" Samantha asked defensively. "What have we talked about being a good influence on your little brother?" It was less of a question and more of an accusation. "He didn't learn it from me!" Samantha insisted. "Actually," Chris smirked, "I kinda taught it to her." "And," Samantha went on, "he only did it after Bri smacked him in the head as hard as she could with a book!" "No I didn't!" Bri proclaimed her innocence. Chris wasn't letting Bri get away with this. He stuck out his lip and made it tremble as he rubbed the top of his head where he was hit. "Briiiiii...." Roxanne warned. "Well," Bri took a big breath. "It wasn't as hard as I could." Roxanne just sighed and took Chris over from his little sister. She briefly inspected the top of his head. "Well, he doesn't seem too hurt. But you gotta be careful around him." Roxanne chided her daughters. "AND," she added, "you need to watch your language and what you do around him. He sees and hears more things than you think he does." (Damn straight). "We're going to have a serious talk about this later girls, but we're running late." Chris could see the look of panic drain from his sisters' faces. Both girls let out a sigh of relief as they started walking to the checkout. "Later" in Roxanne-eese usually meant "Never". Way to go busy schedule and overhwelmed parents! "Let's go girls," Roxanne called out as they exited back into the parking lot. "We're gonna meet Daddy back at the house for lunch." Uh-Oh.

Chapter 3: Breakfast and a car ride. "I don't believe this," Chris muttered to himself as Roxanne rose from the rocking chair, taking her 20 year old step-son with her on her hip as though he were all but weightless. "This can't possibly be happening." "Roxanne, put me down, please," Chris said as he was carried out of what had at one point been his youngest sister's room. "I knoooow, right?" Roxanne replied. "Your sissie is so silly sometimes, isn't she?" Going out of the nursery and into the kitchen area, Chris could see Samantha at the dinner table, wolfing down a bowl of Cheerios. Chris thought about some of the smut he had read over the years, and considered how it might be having an effect on him. "Roxanne," Chris said experimentally, "you can't understand a word I'm saying, can you?" "Uh-huh", Roxanne nodded, "she's VERY excited to go to the library. Yes she is! Yes she is!" "Mooooom!" Sammy complained from the table, her bowl of cereal nearly consumed in record time. "I'm right here, you know! You don't have to talk over me like I can't understand you." Oh the irony of that statment. Oh the irony. Chris found himself placed in and then secured into what had to be the world's biggest highchair, before the tray was clicked in place. Roxanne moved around him and started fastening a bib on him. From his new position, he could see out into the living room and see that Brianna was keeping time to and copying some dancing manakin on another Wii game of hers. "Call Me Maybe" blared. "Bri, could you turn the volume down, sweetie?", Roxanne called out plaintively. "It's still a little early for Mommy, and your father is still sleeping." A serires of growls and grunts was the reply, but the volume went down. "You know, Roxanne," Chris said, gritting his teeth and taking a deep breath. "You are quite the whore." He immediately flinched expecting to be smacked across his face. Nothing. Roxanne just moved around the high chair and went to the kitchen cabinet. "After you had sanitized my crotch," Chris pressed onward, "you really should have opened that big prostitute mouth of yours and sucked my throbbing member." "I know, I know," Roxanne said as she got out a rather large jar of what had to have been babyfood. "Be patient, and Mommy will get you some num-nums." A devilish smile spread across Chris's face. This totally had to be a dream. It just had to be. Only in a dream could Chris be more coherent than Brianna, this be the result. Regardless, fun possibilities now presented themselves. Oh, what fun he could have. Roxanne poured a grainy substance from the jar and into a bowl and took a baby bottle out from the fridge. She mixed in some milk and stirred it around and around till the stuff had a mushy consistency. Chris deduced that it was baby cereal. aka pablum. "Mommy?" Samantha asked, bringing her now empty bowl into the kitchen and dumping it in the sink. "Can I help feed Chris? That way, you can get dressed." Samantha stared at her mother with puppy dog eyes. "That'd be a great help, honey," Roxanne said, handing the bowl of mush to her eldest daughter before walking away. "Ahh the wonderful transparent selfishness of youth," Chris waxed philisophical from the high chair. "Always willing to helpl out...if there's something in it for them." He was about to say more, till a large plastic spoon, held by Samantha, rocketed toward his face. "Open up, Chris!" Sammy coaxed. The spoon full of pablum was hovering centimeters from his lips. "Come on. Just a little bit for Sammy." Chris cocked his head to the side. He was actually hungry. The breast milk had jumpstarted his stomach, and now he was actually hungry. "Well fine," Chris conceded. "Fine Sammy, you can fee-" WHOOMF! Sammy plunged the spoon full of pablum. Chris almost gagged at the intrustion, and spit out the bland tasting glop as soon as it registered. The taste wasn't that bad- it was pretty much just bread in a blender- it was that the intrustion by the spoon had been a little sudden and WAY too deep. Sammy had practically tickled his tonsils. The pablum spilled out of his mouth and harmlesly onto the bib that Roxanne had tied around him. "Come on, eat up!" Sammmy coaxed, obvlivious to Chris's discomfort. "Roxanne told you to feed me," Chris countered, "not waterboa-" WHOOMF! Another spoonful of the stuff snuck in as Chris was snarking out. Oh yeah. He was the baby here. They couldn't understand him. Hey! He was the baby here! He wasn't expected to be completely understandable! He could be fussy! He could be difficult! He could be....a brat. A wry smile crossed his lips. Once the spoon was out. Chris swallowed the pablum and then closed his mouth tightly. Sammy tried to slide another spoonful of pablum in, but Chris had formed a tight seal around his mouth. A thin film of liquid bread was all that managed to touch his lips. "Oh, please don't do this right now, Chris." Sammy pleaded. "Pleeeeease!" Chis shook his head. "Pretty please?" she pressed. Chris still shook his head. "Not even for me?" she tried the puppy dog eyes. That barely worked on him when he was the big brother. No chance now that he was the baby. MWUAHAHAHAHA! 'Burst your way into my infantilist fantasy, will you?!' Chris thought to himself. 'Behold and fear my power! Fear it!' Unfortunately, Samantha couldn't hear his thoughts any more than she could understand his words. "Briiii!" Samantha called out into the living room. "Whaaaaaat?!" Brianna called back. "Chris won't let me feed him, again!" Samantha whined. "Sooooo?" Bri's voice echoed in reply. "I don't get to go to the library till he's done eating!" Samantha continued to whine. "Will you help, please?" There was a pause, then a brief silence as the Wii's endless dancing game was turned off. "Okiedokiefenokie!" Bri said in a fake silly voice that sounded like Kermit the Frog's and a Alvin of the Chipmunk's bastard love baby. Chris's pudgy little sister speed shuffled into the kitchen, still in her jammies. "Whaaaaaat?" she asked Samantha in the same silly voice. "Heeeeeeelp...." Sammy echoed back in her own indignant tone, pointing to their babified older brother. Brianna took a step back and put her hand to her chin, eyeing Chris from head to toe. Then her gaze stopped at his feet. Then she interlaced her fingers and cracked them all at once as she stretched out her arms. Wordlessly Brianna dropped to the linoleum floor and crawled under Chris's dangling feet. "This won't end well." Chris muttered to himself. Then Chris felt Brianna's pudgy little fingers beging to dance across the bare soles of his feet; soles that were for some reason no longer calloused by years of walking. "Hmmmph!" Chris's cheeks puffed out as he tried to contain the laughter. "MMmmmmph!" "Keep going," Sammy encouraged her little sister. "It's working!" He feebly kicked his legs and tried to swat away his tickling attacker, but it was to no avail. He couldn't get any leverage from his position in the high chair, and the tray prevented him from reaching down and swatting Brianna's hands away. Chris tried to hold his laughter in, with all of his might, but inevitably- "BWAHAH-" WHOOMF! Another spoonful of baby cereal made its way into Chris's gullet. Out of breath from laughter and trying not to gag, Chris swallowed the stuff and puffed out and in big gusts of air through his mouth. WHOOMF! He had barely gotten in another breath when ANOTHER giant spoonful of mush entered his mouth. Then another. Then another. Chris held up his hands infront of the spoon and turned his head to the side. Samantha hesitated, her pablum onslaught briefly halted. "Okay." Chris huffed and puffed. "Okay. You win. I'll eat." He then opened his mouth big and wide and allowed Samantha to gently spoon the bland mush in. Apparently, "I give up...mercy please," transcended language barriers. "Okay, Bri," Samantha said, "I think I've got it under control now. Now go get dressed," she nagged, "Mom's not gonna leave you here by yourself with Dad sleeping." Chris could hear Bri's exaggerated mumble grumble as she crawled out from under his feet and trotted off. Chris only had to endure Samantha's force spoon feeding for a few minutes more once he decided to cooperate. He was able to use his tongue as a blocker for his throat so he didn't gag everytime the spoon went in too deep. Was this how spoon feeding real babies felt? Chris hoped not. Finally, Roxanne returned to the kitchen area, fully dressed in a lime green tanktop, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes. "Everything go okay?" Roxanne asked Samantha, once again ignoring the person not expected to talk. "Yup. All fed." Samantha replied. Still a little flustered, Chris was greatful that Sammy hadn't turned around and cooed for confirmation ala "Isn't that right?! Isn't it?" "Ready to go?" Roxanne inquired. Samantha smiled a big toothy grin and nodded her head enthusiastically. Then she stopped and rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah....Bri's still getting dressed." "Well in the meantime," Roxanne asked, "could you please go get the diaper bag and tell your sister to meet us at the car. I'll go get your brother strapped in and ready to go. "Kay kay", Samantha answered and then rushed out of sight. Roxanne turned to Chris and slid the tray off. "Let's get you in the car!" Chris's step-mother announced as she undid the bib, unfastened the harness in the high-chair and picked him up as easily as one could pick up...well, a baby. Chris felt like he had little choice as Roxanne toted him through the laundry room and into the garage. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris noticed a laundry basked filled with rumpled up oversized baby clothes waiting to be washed: Onesies, rompers, some footy pajamas, at least two pair of shortalls, baby t-shirts, and a bevy of pants and shorts with button snaps and elastic waistbands. And they were all in the very same basket that Chris had dumped his clothes in last night. With giant infant in tow, Roxanne deftly moved into the garage towards the red mini-van that was the "Mom-Mobile." With one hand she supported Chris by his rump and slid open the side door with her free hand. Right in front of him, Chris staired at the "baby seat." The damn thing was huge! It looked more like the safety harness on a modern day roller coaster. Speaking of which, Chris felt particularly helpless and flung through the air as Roxanne easily swooped him in through the side door and plopped him down into the thing. With practiced swiftness and dexterity, Roxanne strapped Chris into the baby seat and Chris found himself snugly tucked in. Just like a trip to six flags, Chris's torso would be completely immobilized for the duration of the ride. More importantly though, Roxanne had strapped him in so fast, that he couldn't make out the release mechanism. It was definitely more complicated than pressing the big red button, Chris quickly discovered. Great...he wanted to be a doctor but was being restrained by child-proofed safety belts. Less than a minute later, Chris and Roxanne were joined by his sisters. Samantha sat shotgun up front with her mother, while Brianna slid past Chris and pulled a seatbelt over lap in the back. "Diaper bag?" Roxanne looked to Samantha. "Got it," Samantha replied, as she slid a large aquamarine bag off her shoulder and onto the floor of the van. Then without another word, the Mom-Mobile backed out of the garage, and drove out onto the open road towards the driveway. Chris sat lost in his baby seat lost in thought. He had been delighted when he "woke up", and realized he'd been having his fantasy. The intimate moments with Roxanne had been pure decadence. He'd been thrown off in a big way when the scenario had thrown his sisters into the mix. He totally didn't expect for everything to remain this coherent through "breakfast" and now he was on a car trip in a baby-seat. Granted, it wasn't what he would have intended if he were in full control of this fantasy, but wasn't letting go of control at least partly what his fetish was about? The high chair incident had been a little annoying, and his little sisters- or big sisters in this case- had ganged up on him, but they weren't malicious about it. If anything it was the same kind of manhandling and playing that he had done with them. He was really getting his mileage out of this thing, no pun intended, and was beginning to wonder when he'd finally wake up. His reverie was interrupted once again though, this time by a feeling in his gut. Uh-oh. Big uh-oh. "Uh...guys. Guys?" Chris spoke up. "I'm feeling a little gassy over here. And it might be more than that, if you know what I mean." He could feel pressure building inside of him. "Seriously. Seriously." "Something wrong, Chris?" Roxanne asked, her concern showing in the rear-view mirror. Chris began clutching his stomach. A grunt of pain escaped his lips. "I think he's starting to...you know." Samantha answered her mother. "POOPY!" Bri declared as she scooted as far away from Chris as the confines of the van would allow her. "Oh yeah, like you didn't do the exact same thing when you were his age," Sammy scolded her sister. "He hadn't gone yet when I changed him this morning," Roxanne remarked, "eating breakfast must have kick started his digestive system." Chris clenched his butt cheeks together as the pain and pressure built. "Poopy pants!" Brianna giggled, while wrinkling her nose. "Gosh Bri, you are so immature!" Sammy turned around to look at them. "Babies poop their pants. You did it, I did it, we ALL did it!" She turned to Chris and cooed, "Isn't that right, bubby?" The pain in Chris's gut was starting to crescendo. Oh God. Not here. Not now. Not like this. Chris had never dared to poop his diaper since he discovered the fetish. There were too many variables to clean up; the smell being one of them, and the mixed response in the online community wasn't exactly encouraging. "That's right," Roxanne agreed, "he'll do his business, and then I'll change him once we get to the library. Simple as that." Chris grunted in pain, as his body began to take over. He felt the first bit of a turtle head poking out of him. He sucked his lips inside of him and his eyes bulged out as he tried to will his sphincter into reverse. "It's okay," Samantha cooed. "It's okay. Just get it aaaaaallll out." As if on cue, the mess started to force its way out of Chris's body and into the seat of his diaper. Instinct combined with a feeling of inevitability, and Chris stopped resisting and started to push harder. His fists balled up in stress and disgust as he felt the mess spread across his cheeks more and more with each push. Chris was sure this was nothing like putting oatmeal in his pants as many online had suggested. Finally, after much much too long, he was finished, and felt a final skin crawling thlop as the last of his own excrement settled around in his diaper. Chris gasped and panted from embarrassment as the situation sank in like the soil in his pants: Christopher Cole IV, pre-med student, had just shit his pants right in front of his elementary school aged sisters. Blushing redder than a rose, Chris dropped his head and did his best to avoid eye contact. Brianna had started to fake gag, and even Samantha who had defended his right to poop turned back around in her seat and let out a "Woooo" while waving her hand in front of her nose. Roxanne made no complaint other than to blast the air conditioning full power in an attempt to mitigate the smell. "I seem to remember two little girls who didn't exactly smell like roses themselves once upon a time." Was all that Roxanne said. Bri abruptly stopped her fake heaving. A few minutes later, the van pulled into a parking lot, and doors flung open with the two children bailing before the engine was turned off. Other cars were pulling in quickly, and parking beside them, with families getting out and walking towards the entrance. Apparently, the Public Library had its own niche among the youth to fill during the summer months. Roxanne shouldered the diaper bag before walking around to Chris's door and opening it. "You two go on ahead," she said, "I'll meet up with you in the children's section-" "Ahem", Samantha coughed looking indignant at her mother. "The children and young adult's section," Roxanne corrected herself without missing a beat, "after I take care of Chris here." "Kay kay", Samantha agreed. "Come on, Bri," she motioned to her sister, as the two sprinted off towards the library entrance. For his part, Chris had been pinching himself for roughly the last 5 minutes, trying to wake up. This was more than enough for one dream, and he was hoping to all that was holy that he hadn't pooped the bed when he finally did wake up. "Come on buddy," Roxanne said sympathetically as she released Chris from his restraints, "let's get you changed." Chris let himself be picked up and hoisted into the air; Roxanne's hand supporting him again and spreading the mess in the back of his pants further. Chris gritted his teeth and made himself look forward to what was coming next. The girls were once again out of the picture, and Roxanne would soon give a repeat performance of earlier this morning. Sure, the handicap stall of a public bathroom wouldn't be as intimate but- The hatchback of the Mom-Mobile opened up. Roxanne sat down the diaper bag, and laid out a changing mat in the back. She laid Chris down on it, and his legs dangled over the edge and out into the open air. Roxanne pulled out a fresh diaper and a tub of wipes from the bag. Chris's eyes widened as he put the signs together. When Roxanne had said "after I take are of Chris here." she had meant, "after I take care of Chris HERE." Cars were still coming into the parking lot and Chris could see people walking by the van on the way to the front door. "Nonononono!" Chris protested. "Not here. Not like this." He tried to sit up, but found it more difficult than he expected. Roxanne gently pushed him back down. He grabbed at his shorts as Roxanne did, and got his hands slapped at as a reward. "Quit squirming, baby, so I can change your diaper." Roxanne gently commanded her infantilized step-son. She then gave him a gentle but firm stare that indicated she wasn't playing. Chris sighed and put his hands down. No choice, it seemed. Might as well go with it. Roxanne yanked Chris's shorts down and had them off his legs in one fell swoop. Now every stranger walking bye could see he was diapered. Chris silently prayed that whatever mechanism kept his family from realizing how inappropriate this was worked on strangers too. This change went very much like the first; and proved that the terms "thorough" and "slow" were a matter of context. Roxanne ripped the tabs off the adult size Pampers, and exposed Chris's privates to the open parking lot air. She lifted him up by his legs and used the inside front half of the diaper to wipe down the bulk of the mess that had clung to Christopher's cheeks. She then folded up the front half, concealing the pile of stink. With great attention to detail-too much attention Chris thought as he cringed every time a person walked by- she cleaned him up. First she wiped the mess off his cheeks, then his crack, and finally his asshole. She slid the soiled diaper completely out from under him and balled it and the used baby wipes up before letting the mass plop to the ground. Next, Roxanne unfolded and slid the fresh Pampers under Chris. Thankfully, Roxanne didn't have any baby powder with her. Chris wanted this over and done with 5 minutes before it had happened. Morbid curiosity caused Chris to crane his neck downward as Roxanne finished diapering him. Oscar the Grouch now adorned his crotch. Something was definitely fucking with him, he concluded grimly as Roxanne redressed him in his shorts. She pulled out some hand sanitizer and rinsed her hands before she shouldered the diaper bag and picked up a flustered and highly embarrassed Chris. Chris buried his head into Roxanne's shoulder, hoping no one would look at him as they entered the Library and walked toward the children's section.

Sorry about not posting yesterday. I've got a lot of free time right now, but I wanted to spend some of it NOT writing. Here's the next chapter. Hope it was worth the wait. Chapter 2: Baby's Room As the first rays of sunlight hit Christopher Cole IV's face, Chris became aware of two things. The first being that his thumb was still in his mouth. That was a little weird, since Chris had never slept so soundly before. The second thing Chris noticed was the not altogether unfamiliar sensation of a wet diaper. Chris had been in the process of "diaper training" himself, by getting used to sitting and even sleeping in wet diapers. While he by no means wanted to become incontinent, he.... Wait. Just. A. God. Damn. Minute. Chris's eyes shot open in realization, interrupting his own inner monologue. He shouldn't be in a diaper! Not here! Not now!. His peripheral vision immedately picked up the wooden bars. He was in a giant crib. Lifting his head up, he could tell he was wearing a yellow T-shirt and a diaper. Wubby sat at the foot of the crib. Chris sat up, findding it more difficult than he expected, using the bars of the crib to help himself up into a sitting position. The sheets had teddy bear prints on them, and Chris heard and felt the smooth ruffling and crinkling sound of the plastic sheet underneath. He scanned the walls beyond the bars. The crib he was in was up against the wall farthest from the door. The wall to his right had a large sliding closet door, which was shut at the moment. At the far corner, next to the closet was what was unmistakenly a changing table, only much bigger, with a diaper genie displayed prominently next to it. Across from the changing table was a rather large rocking chair. The walls themselves were painted baby blue with bunnies stenciled in around the top edge. Chris had gone to sleep in his old room. practically naked, and woken up in an oversized nursery. Chris's heart began to beat faster and faster, with a combinatin of excitement and panic. It was like the beginning of so many stories that he read online; the ones where some psycho couple kidnaps the main character and decides to make the him or her the new baby. Those things weren't based on true stories were they?! Chris shifted to his knees and tried to pull himself up to a standing position. He grabbed the railing of the crib and heaved himself up. Then he experimentally let go. He kept his balance for a moment, then suddenly his legs went all Bambi on him and he started to weeble and wobble on the mattress before falling down on his rump. Once again, he felt the squish of wet diaper between his legs. This prompted him to look down and examine the infantile garment he had woken up in. It had two tabs, one on each side. The texture was definitely that fake cloth texture, instead of the pure plastic backing that so many AB's preferred. The decorations were.... Holy. Shit. Chris's mouth dropped open. Looking down at the waistband of the diaper, Chris realized that he was looking at Elmo. Not just any Elmo; not the guy who sang "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reigndeer" Elmo; THE Elmo. This was the Sesame-Street-let's-learn-to-count-and-say-letters Elmo. Motherfucking Elmo! No Adult Baby diaper would have Elmo on it; they couldn't get away with it- Proctor & Gamble AND the Jim Henson estate would have a field day. Chris picked at the waist band a little bit. Maybe the image was taped on or something. That's when Chris noticed that right by Elmo was the signature teal oval with stylized white print, with a little yellow heart over it. For some reason, Chris couldn't quite make out the writing, but he didn't need to. Just like how any fat kid knows that Golden Arches and big yellow "M" mean McDonald's, a guy who has obsessed over infancy for most of his life recognizes the Pampers logo when he sees it. Chris's heart leapt into overdrive. He was wearing a giant adult sized replica of a Pampers diaper. It was like the beginning of some of the good stories that he read online. There's no possible way this could be real. He took a quick survey of the room and his spatial sense kicked in. This room seemed vaguely familiar; how everything was laid out, and how big the room out. Then Chris realized: This was Brianna's room. Specifically this was his youngest sister's room circa age zero to about age two and a half. The crib, the rocking chair, all of it was arranged just as it was when Bri was a baby; only now the color scheme was changed to accomodate a baby boy, and the furniture was enlarged to accomodate him. A smile spread across his face as the realization set in. He was having a wet dream, again. Cleary his subconscious not wanting to go on infantilism abstinence for the summer combined with the old adolescent fantasies that seeing Roxanne stirred up, and now he was experiencing the result; the fantastic fantastic result! So what do you do when you're stuck in a dream that you honestly don't want to get out of? You go with it, duh! Chris reached over and grabbed Wubby from the foot of the crib and then laid back down. He idly kicked his legs in the air and maid gurgling and cooing sounds, doing his best to sound cute while he turned the old teddy bear in his hands. Chris smiled a little as he inspected Wubby's eyes. In his dream at least, Wubby's eyes were the same black beads that Chris had always remembered. Chris briefly considered drooling or teething on Wubby as any baby might do to their stuffed animals, but decided that the old boy had had it rough enough through the years. That's when Chris heard footsteps coming. This was gonna be good! The door softly opened and in stepped Roxanne, her curly blonde locks glistening in the morning sun. She was clad in a light purple terrycloth bathrobe, and while Chris would have preffered the silk nightie that he had purposefully pictured her in many times before, one couldn't be too picky about what your subconscious handed you. "Good mornging!" Roxanne cooed as she stepped in. Knowing this was a dream, Chris resisted the urge to cover himself and continued to idly kick his legs and cuddle with his beloved teddy. "It looks like someone is already up and awake!" Roxanne practically sung as she peered down on him lying in the crib. Chris looked into her eyes and couldn't help but smile. There was more than friendship in those eyes, there was love, the kind of measureless love that only a mother can have for her child. Her smile told him that he was the center of her whole world. "Ready to get up?" she asked, though her tone implied she didn't truly expect an answer. Chris put down his teddy bear and held his arms up to reach for her. Roxanne, or rather Dream Roxanne needed no further cues. She lowered the railing of the crib, and with impossible ease picked Chris up, and rested him on her hip. This close up, he could smell that her hair smelled of jasmine, and he breathed it in, savoring the Aroma. Damn, his dad had great taste in women. He absently hoped that if he and Sherry managed to stay together, she'd age as well as Roxanne had. Roxanne just giggled and rubbed her nose against his. Eskimo kisses. Even through the wet diaper, Chris could feel himself pressed up against her and was enthralled. He briefly considered pressing harder, but he through that thought away. He didn't want to get *too* adult in this adult baby fantasy his brain had concocted for him. "Let's get my baby boy dressed and ready," Roxanne declared, as she made a bee line for the oversized changing table. Chris put up no struggle as Roxanne laid him down on the rubbery mat and pulled a strap across his tummy. His breathing became shallow with excitement as Roxanne's fingers went for the velcro tapes on the diaper. "Scritch." "Scritch." The tapes were off, and the smell of urine wafted into the air as Roxanne pulled back the front of the diaper and Chris felt a definite breeze as his genitals were exposed to open air. Chris looked at his naked crotch. Hairless. Nice touch, subconscious. Very babyish. Chris's eyes practically rolled back into his head as Roxanne began to gently caress and wipe his most private and sensitive of areas. The coolness of the baby wipes on his crotch felt so real that for a second Chris mildly questioned if he was dreaming or not. Then again, if this were real, he'd probably be too nervous to enjoy it. He'd be too worried that his little sisters, or worse yet his father would walk in or find out. Now THAT would be a talk. Knowing the impossibility of that, Chris decided to put it out of his head and enjoy his pampering.Pun intended. After his front side had been wiped clean, Roxanne crossed Chris's ankles over each other and lifted his legs up into the air by pushing up the back of the bottom heel. Chris felt Roxanne gently begin to wipe his backside; first his hole, then the crack of his ass, then each cheek. "No poopies," Roxanne commented as she sanitized her step-son's crevasse. "Oh well, maybe later after you get some num-nums in your tum-tums". Then Roxanne pulled the used diaper out from under him, and skillfully balled it up with one hand before setting Chris's legs down and tossing it into the nearby diaper genie. She then reached onto a shelf below Chris, and pulled out a fresh diaper and unfolded it. Then, just as quickly as she had slid the old one out, Roxanne picked Chris's legs up and slid the new one under him. She wasn't done yet though. Chris could see her take out a bottle of baby powder and felt it as she sprinkled it on him; first his bum, then his crotch. Roxanne even smoothed it out and massaged it in with her hand, caressing his backside and genitals. This was heaven. Plain and simple. Chris fought the urge to have his eyes roll back in his head from ecstasy, instead focusing on the minute details. He would definitely have to remember this dream for later and replay it when he had some private time alone for one of his *ahem* daydreams. He focused on the feeling as Roxanne pulled the fresh diaper up between his legs, listening to the soft crinkle of diaper as she adjusted it over his hips. He felt the diaper become snug yet comfortable as Roxanne taped up one side, then the other. He looked down at the fresh diaper and saw that Grover was now decorating the waistband. While Chris would have preferred Cookie Monster or at least Big Bird, beggars couldn't be choosers. Besides, he could always edit that in in future replays. "All clean!" Roxanne announced as if someone needed confirmation. "Now let's get you dressed for the day." Roxanne turned to face the closet, leaving Chris strapped to the table. With the closet door opened, Chris craned his neck to see that the closet was packed with large versions of baby clothes with cute little designs on them, as well as a box or two of Pampers. Roxanne brought a gray pair of shorts with an elastic waistband over to the changing table and slid them up Chris's legs and shimmied them up his hips. The leggings didn't even cover his knees, and even though you could only see the top edge of the diaper, the tell-tale bulge below the waist did nothing to hide what Chris's undergarment was. This was a little strange, Chris thought as Roxanne unfastened the strap and helped him sit up. Normally, when Chris fantasized about these sort of things, he pictured the diaper in plain view; or at the very least, he'd be wearing a onesie. Sure, lots of parents dressed their kids in shorts, but shorts in of themselves weren't very babyish. Rocking the Baby Huey look or at least a onesie though.... "Arms up!" Roxanne broke Chris out of his own thoughts. "Arms up! Like this, sweety!" Chris shook from his reverie and did as he was told, almost on reflex. Roxanne pulled the yellow t-shirt off of him. "That's my big boy!" she praised him, as she pulled a new red T-shirt with a little bumble bee stitched over the heart over him. That was weird too. Being called a "big boy", when he was clearly supposed to be a baby in this dream had been unexpected. Yeah, parents totally called their young children "big" as a means to encourage them to develop and behave, but it was throwing off his mojo. This dream version of Roxanne paid no mind to Chris's thoughts though, as she picked him up off the changing table and walked over to the rocking chair. She cradled him in her arms, and the chair was big enough to accomodate the both of them. She rocked back and forth for a moment, stroking his hair. Then she pulled back a side of her robe, revealing a naked breast. "Let's get you some milk," Roxanne told him. Chris knew what was coming next, and he didn't fight it. Gently, she guided his head to her bosom, and gently he took a few tentative sucks at her teat. Then the milk began to flow. Rich and creamy, and better than he could have imagined, it came out of her and went into his mouth. Slowly, he suckled, trying to savor the taste, and the sensation. "Good boy," Roxanne whispered and cooed as she petted the back of his head, gently stroking his hair. "You're such a good eater. Yes you are! Yes you are!" Chris continued suckling on the sweet mothers milk, getting lost in the sensation. Chris wondered how much longer this would last. Normally he'd have woken up by now, have either ejaculated or with a raging hard on at the very least. But he was in no hurry for this little fantasy to end. "Easy there, baby," Roxanne said. "Don't get your tummy too full. We still gotta get some solids in you." Just then there was a knocking at the door. "Mom? Are you in there?" Chis heard the unmistakable voice of his sister Samantha call out. Chris stopped suckling and pulled away from Roxanne's breast. What the hell was Sammy doing in HIS fantasy dream?! "All done?" Roxanne whispered to Chris, as she covered herself. "Come in," she called out in her voice reserved for people who could understand her. The door flung open and in stepped Samantha, a blonde bean pole in GAP clothing. "Sammygetoutthisisn'twhatitlookslike!" Chris yelped to his sister while still sitting in his step-mother's lap. "Hi Chris." Sammy waved and smiled before making eye contact with her mother. "So Mom," she began as she started rocking on her heels, "I was wondering." "Yes?", Roxanne said, waiting for her eldest daughter to go on. "I JUST finished reading the last of my Warrior books," Samantha continued, "and I was wondering if we could go to the library sometime today so that I can get another one?" A wry smile crossed Roxanne's lips. "Am I to assume that you'd prefer to go sooner as opposed to later?" she asked. "Maybe...", Samantha smiled and bit her lip. "Is this why you're already dressed up and out of your pajamas already?" Roxanne pressed. Sammy stopped rocking on her heels and launched into an all out offensive. "It's just that Dad's asleep, and I know we won't have time after he gets up cuz we're having lunch with him and then doing family things all day, and I figured you'd want me to be reading during the summer anyways since I'm not in school and I figured I figured I figured-" Roxanne held up her free hand while holding Chris with the other. "Have you even had breakfast yet?" Roxanne asked seriously. "No," came back her daughter's sullen reply. Roxanne took a deep breath and exhaled. "Go get some breakfast, and give me time to feed your brother and get dressed. THEN I'll take you to the library." "Okay!" Samantha squeed, as she did a little hop. "Love you, Mom!" she added as she quickly reached around Chris and gave her mother a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. "Love you too, Chris!" she added. "Kissies!" she cooed as she gave her big brother a peck on the lips, adding "Mwah!" for effect. "Tell Bri, too! See if she wants to go." Roxanne called after Sammy as the girl practically pranced out of the room and presumably to the kitchen. "Kay kay!" Samantha's voiced echoed back. Chris had sat dumbfounded through the whole exchange between his two family members. Samantha didn't seem at all disturbed or even surprised when she had seen her big brother, back home from college, in a baby's room, sitting in Roxanne's lap. She barely acknowledged him, and talked over him, too. Dream or not, either of his two sisters walking in on him diapered and breastfeeding from his step-mom would have resulted in either an immediate return to consciousness, or it turning into a nightmare of accusations and all the uncomfortable questions that he had hoped never to be asked by a family member. Instead, all he got was being witness to his sister asking to go to the library after breakfast. THE FUCK KIND OF DREAM WAS THIS?! And then a disturbing thought crossed his mind: Was it?

Note: I promse things will pick up after this forthcoming chapter. Mad Scientist Version: Gentlemen. BEHOLD! You WILL get to know these characters and their most basic defining personality traits and quirks before FAPPING! You WILL see these as actual characters in a fictional STORY, and not cardboard cutouts who are just shells of humanity and victims of a series of unfortunate, unlikely, unrealistic, and downright impossible events. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Chapter 1- Home Getting home for the summer, Chris did not quite get the overwhelmingy warm welcome he had expected. It's not that he was shunned, but they weren't rolling out the red carpet for him either. Chris wasn't terribly surprised, but was a little disappointed as he had built up a slightly elaborate scene in his head during the long drive back from the university. It was getting late when Chris pulled up to his house. The driveway was clear, and an open garage showed Dad's car to be missing. No surprise there, really; Chris's father was the head of the ER department at the local hospital. His work and sleep schedule was often erratic to say the least. Chris could tell that the lights were on, and that Roxanne, his step-mother, was home. This was indicated by her signature red mini-van aka. "The Mom Mobile" that she drove her children, Chris's half sisters around in. Barring some end-of-school slumber party, the girls would be home too. As Chris walked into the big two-story house, his senses came alive with the remembered nostlgia of his childhood. The laundry room, which was next to the garage, smelled always of clean smelling detergent. The room hummed and buzzed as the washer and dryer did their work; never able to truly rest as the entire family was constantly putting them to use. Chris wasted no time unpacking his suitcase filled with dirty clothes and dumping it into the laundry basket to be washed later. He walked from the laundry room and cautiously poked his head out into the main living room of the house, as if expecting to be ambushed. "Hello?", Chris called out, "I'm home." Chris braced himself. The last few times he had been home, his little sisters had practically tackled him. Tonight, the girls barely looked up from what they were doing. "Heeeeeey." They lazily sang out in unison without making eye contact. "Welcome back," the older of his too sisters, Samantha, added on. If Chris's memory was correct, Samantha had just finished 5th grade. Like her mother, Sammy had a track star's build and blonde hair. Since puberty hadn't quite set in yet though, (thank God for that, nothing makes you feel older than the thought of your baby sisters actually growing up), Sammy was still very much a bean pole. The house was more or less designed as a large common area with closed off bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs and along the periphery. All that separated most of the main rooms were large arcways that likely did a better job of symbolising that you were in another area of the house than actually separating the rooms off. Thus, from the family room, Chris could clearly see that Sammy was sitting at the dinner table, reading a book while listening to (if instagram could be trusted) One Direction on her iPod. Brianna on the other hand, was plopped on the couch, her tongue poking out a bit as she was engrossed in a Mario game for the Wii. Like Chris and their father, Bri's hair was less blonde and more of a dark chestnut. In the right light, it might even pass for black. Unlike her sister, Bri had yet to lose her baby fat, but didn't seem too concerned one way or the other. In fact, just by looking at them, or seeing them behave, you might not know they were related. Sammy was becoming a bit of a girly girl, and had begun to beg her mother to take her shopping for some real makeup; while Bri was becoming both a Tomboy and a bit of an oddball. Chris couln't think of the last time Bri was in a dress, and even though she'd be going into fourth grade this fall, she still had the habbit of shouting gibberish in squeaky voices for no other reason than it amused her. She had obviously not grown out of this, yet, as she started to berate a group of green turtles on the video screen. "Stooopid toota foota boo boo caca!" she whooped and half yelled as her Mario jumped on their backs. "Brianna," a tired voice called out, "would you please stop yelling at the T.V. screen? Mommy is starting to get a headache." Roxanne, walked in. "Oh, hey Chris," she said pleasantly, "you're here a little earlier than I expected. I figured you wouldn't have arrived till late when everyone was asleep." "Yeah," Chris said, stretching a little, "I guess I burned rubber getting here. Dad at work?" "Yeah," Roxanne yawned as she ran a hand through her curly blonde locks, "he'll be back late tonight and should be up and about by lunch. We just finished dinner, but there's plenty in the fridge, help yourself." she gestured over to the kitchen area. "Sorry I'm so tired," she added, "I just haven't been sleeping well lately." Chris nodded knowinglyl and walked over to the fridge. At age 40, Roxanne Cole was a trophy wife that hadn't yet lost all of her sheen. Chris's father married her about a year after Cole's mother's death. It was a little soon for Chris, but he wanted his dad to be happy. The birth of Samantha "Sammy" Cole relatively soon after lead Chris to believe that maybe Dad had forgotten how to use a condom, which led to wedding bells. Still, Roxanne was a pretty cool person, and a decent step-mom to Chris. She had never played the "you can call me mom if you want" card, which is good since it would have blown up in her face. Instead, she had just been another adult, and a friendly one at that. As he had gotten older, she had treated him more and more as an equal and as a friend; especially since he had gone off to college. Still, Chris always felt a little tense around Roxanne; not out of resentment, but out of guilt. Let's just say that Christopher and his father had similar taste in women. Combine that with his emerging fetish growing up and the fact that Roxanne wasn't his real mother- thus making the idea seem less gross- gave Chris more than a bit of an Oedipal complex. It got a lot easier as he entered high school and girls his own age started becoming attractive. Sherry alone counted for more old socks being defiled than he could count. It also didn't hurt that the girls were growing up, and so the sounds of Roxanne's coos and baby-talk had stopped ringing in Chris's ears; though for some reason Roxanne had never fully made the transition from calling herself "Mommy" to just "Mom". But that didn't change the fact that Chris's first few remembered wet dreams were basically memories of Roxanne mothering his then baby sisters, only with the girls completely edited out and him taking their place. Pink nurseries would become blue, add in some half-remembered motherese replacing all instances of names with his own, and BAM! Instant wet dream. Chris made himself a sandwhich and sat down at the dinner table, munching on ham and cheese while Samantha continued reading her book. He was polite enough to ask what she was reading, but didn't really see the appeal. It was something about a bunch of cats that lived in the forest and talked to their ancestors while fighting other cats or something. Silly stuff. Then again, when he was Sammy's age, he read a book series about kids who turned into animals to fight off a secret alien invasion. So who was he to judge. After giving him a ramshackle description of the book, Sammy went back to listening to boy bands on her iPod and happily ignored him. God, she was turning into such a tween. Chris chuckled to himself as he felt sorry for what Roxanne was likely to endure in the coming years. Brianna, perhaps uncharacteristically invited Chris to play the Mario game with her. This newest version had a co-op mode where Mario and Luigi could be on the screen at the same time. Unfortunately, characters could also pick each other up and throw on another. Bri seemed to enjoy picking up Chris's Luigi and throwing him off a cliff rather than play the game as intended. Worse yet, Chris couldn't figure out how to retaliate and Bri just laughed at his cries of "No fair!" and "Stop!" "Oh, you like laughing, do ya?" Chris finally said as he set his controller down. He flashed an evil smile that Tom reserved for Jerry, and in his most over the top delivery he shouted, "WELL WHO'S LAUGHING NOW?!" He then proceeded to pin his youngest sister down to the couch and tickle her as she squirmed. Her cries for help from her older sister went unheeded. Sammy had faced the tickle monster's wrath one time too many times and her developing tween coolness wouldn't allow her to debase herself, besides. Finally, Roxanne's headache broke the laughing massacre up, and Chris relented. Then with a shit eating grin that Jerry reserved for Tom, Bri held up the Wii remote and asked "Wanna play some more?" Chris only shook his head. Bri always has been a button pusher, even knowing she'll be on the losing end. Chris walked by the hot pink room that was Sammy's, and the almost neon green room that was Bri's, before going up the stairs to his own room. "Oh, just so you know," Roxanne called after him, "I cleaned out the attic a few weeks ago, and I found some of your old toys. I didn't know if you wanted to keep them for old time's sake, or what so I just put them up in your room." "Kay!" Chris called down as he continued climbing the stairs into his old room. With the exception of being much tidier, it was exactly as he had left it; a veritable time capsule of his high school years. Posters of bands that were now defunct were on the walls, his bed was in the corner, and his trophy case with various awards that he had earned since grade school adorned the far wall. Most importantly though, undisturbed, was his old desktop. He turned it on, and signed on to google mail instantly. Just as planned, and promised, Sherry was there waiting for him. He messaged her. Colev4.0: I'm home SunnySher: Yay! Me too! Colev4.0: How long you been home? SunnySher: Couple hours. But just got on. SunnySher: Figured I'd beat ya. Colev4.0: Well you did. Colev4.0: How were your finals? SunnySher: Good enough. You? Colev4.0: Brutal. But done with. SunnySher: Good. Cole4.0: Wanna go out tonight? SunnySher: Can't. SunnySher: Mom and dad want to spend some quality time. Cole4.0: Oh SunnySher: Tomorrow? Cole4.0: Sure! What time? SunnySher: How about 6:00? Cole4.0: Deal. SunnySher: BTW. Tried to call you today. Charge your damn phone! Cole4.0: Have to unpack it first. Might have left it at school. SunnySher: Cole4.0: Don't worry, we'll see each other enough that we won't need phones. SunnySher: Promise? Cole4.0: Promise. See you tomorrow? SunnySher: Promise. Cole4.0: Ok then. I'll pick you up at 6:00. I'm gonna go to bed, now. Cole4.0: Feeling sheepy Cole4.0 *sleepy SunnySher: Ok. Night, babe! Love you! Cole4.0: Love you too! His date set up for tomorrow, and feeling genuinely tired from all the driving, Chris logged off and walked over to his bed. Sure enough, an old friend was besides his pillow, waiting for him. Wubby, his stuffed teddy bear, sat up looking at him, plaintively, as if to say "You're back, please love me." Chris hadn't seen the old brown bear in years, and had assumed him lost to the ravages of time. He picked the bear up and turned it over in his hands. It had the same well worn stitching, the same fluff stufing on the inside that didn't quite puff anymore, and the same off-colored stains where the poor thing had been dropped in the mud more than a few times. Wubby was just as Chris had always remembered him. Chris had had Wubby since as far back as he could remembered. Wubby had originally been a gift from his mother that he had stubbornly clung too after she had died. Even after he had gotten over his mother's death, Wubby retained a place of prominence in Chris's room for years. Even Chris's friends didn't give him guff about keeping a stuffed animal well into high school. They understood the sentimental value; and it's not like Chris had taken to carrying it around everywhere like Linus and his blanket. But somehow, the poor thing just seemed to vanish one day while Chris was at school, and Chris had long ago given up looking for it. This was indeed a welcome surprise. One thing did stand out about Wubby, though; his eyes. Chris could have sworn that they were ordinary black bead eyes, but now looking at them they seemed difference. The left eye was a bright red, and the right eye was an equally bright blue. It was like Wubby's eyes had been replaced with those old fashioned 3-D glasses from the 1950's. They seemed to glitter a bit too, almost like gems. Still, it wasn't nearly enough to throw the bear's identity into qustion. This was Wubby alright. Chris looked to the left, and right conspiratorially, as if there might be hidden cameras in his old room. He locked the door, just in case. He stripped his clothes off and threw back the sheets to his bed before climbing in. Just because he wasn't going to be in diapers for the next couple of months, doesn't mean he couldn't enjoy and relax while doing other babyish things. With that thought, he cuddled his old friend, Wubby the bear, under one arm, while popping a thumb in his mouth with the other. He sucked on his thumb idly as unconsciousness claimed him.

Thanks for the free proof reading. I'm pretty sure I fixed the nastiest bit. We'll have to agree to disagree on how expository it was or needed to be.

College or Cribs- By Personalias Prologue: Apartment Aaaaaaaaand done! Save save save save. Spellcheck. Save save save save! Run it through Turnitin.com to prove against plagarism. Submit. Gooaaaaal! Christopher Cole IV threw his hands up in the hair and spun around in his leather backed swivel chair. With the sun a mere thirty minutes away from rising, Chris had done it: Chris had just turned in his final term paper for his junior year of college. On top of that, this was a particularly difficult semester. Chris's academic advisors even frowned upon Chris's decision to double up his work load and not take summer courses. Chris didn't listen. He didn't drop a single course, and now, his face illuminated only by the soft glow of his computer screen, Chris had finished the superhuman task of finishing not one but 6 different term papers- all for pre-med classes. It had taken incredible endurance, next to no offline social life, an addiction to caffine that bordered on suicidal, and roommates who were practically strangers, but Chris had finished what had to be, hands down, the toughest semester of his life. Now, he reasoned, he could make the long drive home, see his family, spend a lazy summer with his old high school friends, and not have to give a second thought about applying to Med School till September. Mission Accomplished. Chris was about to fling open his door and do a victory dance and parade himself through the living room of his college apartment, but thought better of it when he looked down and realized he was still wearing a Bambino. The adult diaper with baby blocks stenciled in the front hung heavily between his legs. The two tapes on each side kept the garment firmly in place, but it still felt as if it were less fastened on, and more clinging to his waist for dear life. That's what happened when you completely soaked a diaper to its limits. Chris needed a change. Badly. But this diaper was the last one he'd be wearing for a while, and for good reason. Christopher Cole IV was an adult baby, (though he shuddered at the thought of being an "adult" anything). Before that he was a teen baby, before that he was a kid that fantasized about being treated as a baby. The point is, Chris had wanted to be a baby ever since he could remember not being one. Chris wasn't even sure why. He hadn't had a particularly bad life, as far as he could recount. His dad was a doctor, and made a lot of money to provide for the family. His mom had died of breast cancer when he was just eight, but Chris knew for a fact that he had had these desires long before. He had never gone hungry a day in his life, never been abused, and never had responsibility that he hadn't asked for. Granted, his main reason for wanting to become a doctor had been driven by the fact that he liked expensive things, wanted to afford more, and that his dad had been a doctor, as had his grandfather. So there was a little subliminal pressure there- but who didn't deal with that kind of stuff? No one, that's who. Bottom line: There was no good reason why Chris should have this fetish, yet he did. The sexual side of him was attracted to the vulnerability aspect and lack of control. It was like SnM but without the nasty and uncomfortable elements of whips and chains. Same play engine, different graphics. Kind of like how anyone who has played a Final Fantasy Game can pick up Pokemon in a jiffy. It was also more familiar to him too, and therefore more believable. Chris had never been in a dungeon before, but he had been in a nursery. The non-sexual part of him was also fascinated with the "life style". No control also meant no responsibility whatsoever. No responsibility meant no stress. As a baby, all Chris had to worry about was his own stimulation, entertainment, and relaxation without worrying about the needs or feelings of others. It was a wonderfully selfish thought. The versatility of the scenarios intrigued him to no end. It ould be amazingly humiliating and stressful, more relaxing than a day at the spa or with a mommy figure involved, completely intimate. Really, this thing had something for everybody. Why wasn't this thing more mainstream? Unfortunately, the reality of the situation was that it wasn't mainstream to be an Adult Baby. Chris realized at a young age, that his wishes to return to infancy were not reciprocated by his peers, or encouraged by adults. He was supposed to be a big boy, followed by a kid, followed by a tween then teen, then adult. And so he was and did his best to appear to be. So he shut that side of himself off from the rest of the world, figuring himself to be a freak of some sort...maybe this was how pedophiles started. It wasn't until freshman year that he stumbled onto the scene and then began to realize he wasn't the only one. He reached out to them, the kindred spirits that shared his fascination and desires. There wasn't a message board safe from his pressence. Pretty soon, he learned tricks how to enjoy himself and keep it secret from the rest of the world. He opened up a P.O. box to have specialty supplies shipped to, and only brought them in the house when his roommates were gone or sure to be asleep. He had an alternate email account for purposes of communicating with his fellow AB's and confirmation emails on certain products. He deleted his internet browsing history every time he logged off; and fortunately the specialty companies and community were every bit as paranoid as he was; with nondescript company names showing up on his credit card bills instead of "AB Fetish Supplies". All in all, it was a good setup. But Chris was going home now. That meant that if he wanted to keep his secret to the best of his ability, he had to go off grid completely while at his dad and step mom's place. No telling how they would react if they found out, not to mention his friends, little sisters, and Sherry. Sherry had been his high school sweetheart, and they had managed to keep up a long distance relationship, despite going to separate colleges. They made sure to visit each other during Thanksgiving, Christmas, their respective Spring Breaks, this past year, Sherry even gave him a surprise visit for Valentine's Day. (She had no idea how close she was to finding his secret stash, thank God for dirty clothes.) Chris knew in his heart that he would have this summer, and maybe the next summer to have freetime with Sherry. After that, Medical School would consume his life. That would be the real test of their relationship. Chris shook his head to clear the cobwebs out. Damn inner monologue. He'd been standing at the door in just a diaper for the past five minutes at least. The point was, he had a different life to live, and no one could find out his secret. Not his roommates, not his friends back home, not his family, and not Sherry. Especially not Sherry. It'd be over if she found out. It would just have to be. So he'd just have to go on one of the classic binge and purge cycles that were common in the fetish. He had just spent the last several nights holed up in his apartment room, wearing the last of his adult diapers. Then he'd toss them all out, sign off on the various AB message boards he was a member of, and go have a summer getaway from college. Simple as that. Chris listened through the door to hear if there was any noise coming through the rest of the apartment. He could hear the TV going still. Either one of his roomies was going for some all-night marathon, or just as likely they fell asleep on the couch. He'd actually probably have a better time sneaking the stuff out and into the garbage around noonish when his roommates would be moving out for the summer themselves, going to their last classes, or passed out...speakng of which it was about that time and the thriteen Red Bulls he had chgged was finally wearing off. So in nothing but a sodden Bambino, Christopher Cole IV locked the door to his room, just in case, and passed out on top of his bed, just slipping off to sleep as the first rays of daylight peaked out into the sky.

Short story. Near fatal car crash. Ideas. Figured out how to copy paste. Any winners? Ideas: Listed in order as they occur to me, not in order of preference.

It's been four months since I got out of the hospital, and I think I'm ready to get back on the horse as far as writing fiction goes. The one thing I do NOT want to do is a direct sequel to my Dante story. But I've got a bunch of ideas, and I still haven't finished Bagman. But I feel the momentum left that story as soon as I woke up in the hospital. I'm not asking for story ideas, just opininions on do I finish what I've started, or do I try a fresh start with something new? I'm a little lazy as I write this, (sleepy), and I haven't figured out how to copy and paste on my wife's iPad (my new primary typing device and access to the internet.) But I posted some ideas on my deviantart.com journal if anyone cares to see what I've been batting around in my head. Either way it was cathartic to get this minor dilemma out of the way. Thank you for any opinions on the subject that you have to offer.

Semi realistically? A bet works

I prefer Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. It's the British version on Netflix. He just comes with a camera crew and tries to give the business tips on how to succeed. No remodeling crews to give you free stuff as a reward for you sucking enough to get on the show. I hate that about most fix-em-up shows. If you are incompetent, and get on TV you get rewarded for it.

Yeah, I've been there. While writing Dante I got into it so that I cried while writing a few scenes. I hope to write from a readers point of view, meaning that if I cry I'm hoping my readers will cry.

My car accident messed up my guts. There were rips in parts of my intestines causing waste and bacteria to spread to parts of my body where they don't belong. So the surgeon basically tied up and or removed pieces of my guts and the ostomy is at a point before the rips, kind of like switching the train tracks before the train goes over the edge. The good news is my guts will heal in a few months and the process can be undone, meaning no more ostomy. Oh, and correction, it is an illostomy which means the hole that the poop comes out of now is in my small intestines, not my colon.

Mamalias is taking care of me while I do the bulk of my healing. Hopefully I'll heal to the point to where I can focus, write stories, and post more often. Thank you for the well wishes everyone.

Hey everyone, I have been quiet for a while and not posting due to serious medical injuries. I got in a nasty car crash, am lucky to be alive etc. etc. Now I have two broken legs, some nasty gashes in my stomach, and a colostomy to be repaired in a few months. That's right, I'm technically fecal incontinent, but it's nothing like an Abdl would hope fore. In fact, diapers would get in the way of the bag. Sorry, just needed to vent to the world. Continue on with your day. Personalias