tammie2

10. Christopher turned to his wife, his eyes pleading to be saved. He was embarrassed beyond belief, not to mention extremely uncomfortable. And it was all Abby’s fault. He needed Hannah to save him and to straighten out their daughter. If he wasn’t too old for a time out, she wasn’t either. Surprisingly, it was Jess who spoke up first. “He was so mean, Ms. Coleman. He refused to use the potty and yelled at us and even said some swear words. So Abby put him in time out to calm down. He deserved it, Ms. Coleman. He wasn’t being nice.” Hannah looked from Jess to Abby, who confirmed it. “Yeah, mom. He’s been like that all day. I took him to the potty every time I took Cassie and even one other time, but he wouldn’t use it and then went all nuclear on us. I didn’t know what else to do.” She looked at her father and the puddle at his feet. “It’s almost like he wanted to use his training pants.” Hannah stared at her husband for several long seconds then again faced Abby. “How much longer does he have in time out?” “Well, like eighteen or nineteen minutes, but I told him that if he moved he had to start over. That’s half an hour. But Mom, it’s getting kind of stinky in here. I’m not sure I can last that long.” “Understood, dear. Why don’t we move to the kitchen where we can talk. Chrissy, turn around and put your nose in the corner. You still have thirty minutes to go. And don’t think you can move just because we’re in the next room. Mommies have eyes that see through walls.” Christopher moaned as he turned back to the corner. His wet panties were cooling and getting itchy, the puddle at his feat was spreading, and the mess in the seat of his pants stunk badly. He would accept the training pants, the potty, his new room, everything. He just wanted to be clean. Meanwhile in the kitchen the women sat around the table. “Jess, I’m sorry that you had to see that,” Hannah began. “As you can see things with my husband are in a state of flux right now. His behavior seems to be regressing as you might have guessed.” “That’s okay, Ms. Coleman,” Jess replied as she took a drink of her Coke. “Mom told me that he had some problems after his accident. I just didn’t expect this.” “We didn’t either, to be honest,” Hannah said. “But I think I know now how to handle it. Abby, there’s a box on the back seat of the car. Do you think you could go get it for me and bring it here?” As Abby left, Hannah again turned to Jess. “I think I need to have a talk with your mom. Do you still have your babysitting club? If so, who’s in it?” “Yeah, we’ve been doing it a couple of years now and with tuition to pay, we need the money more than ever. We share tips and sometimes work together if there’s a lot of kids or some that won’t behave. Besides me there’s Jill, Suzie, and Beth.” Hannah nodded. “That’s what I remembered, thanks. I think I need to have a talk with all of your moms. You could be a big help moving forward.” Just then Abby returned and placed the box on the table. Hannah took a kitchen knife, opened it, and pulled out a red booster seat. “Abby, would you move the high chair to your father’s place at the table, and bring his chair back to Cassie’s spot? Then put this booster chair on her seat. I think she’s proven herself to be a big enough girl that there need to be a few changes around here. We’ll talk about that tonight after the babies are in bed. Jess, would you like to stay for dinner? I defrosted some spaghetti.” As the teens set the table, Hannah returned to the living room. “Chrissie, it’s time to get you cleaned up. I’m not happy with you and the way you acted in front of the girls. I think it’s best if we postpone a discussion of the consequences until tomorrow when I’ve calmed down. For now, I’m going to give you a bath, put you in your nighttime diaper, and feed you dinner. Then you’re going to bed early. Do you understand?” Christopher nodded. Hannah left briefly and returned with a large bath towel, which she had her husband hold between his legs so as not to leak on his way upstairs. She brought him straight to the bathroom, where she carefully deposited as much mess in the toilet as possible and wiped him down with baby wipes as she ran water into the tub. She stopped the water when it was only about four inches deep. “This is how babies who aren’t mature enough to keep from wetting and messing themselves get bathed,” she told him as she dipped a washcloth into the water before rubbing it with a bar of soap. “I want you to sit here without a word and think about what you did.” After he was clean, she took his hand and brought him to his room where she pushed him down on the bed. It would be a long time in the same diaper, so she added two thick inserts before taping him up. She made sure to use extra baby lotion and powder to cover any residual stench. His onesie was disgusting, but Hannah found a yellow sleeper with a baby bear applique that Abby had bought in a drawer and pulled that on. By the time he was ready to go downstairs, he could barely walk without waddling and he smelled and looked like he was twelve months old. Abby and Jess dissolved in a fit of laughter when Hannah led Christopher into the kitchen, and Cassie, safely buckled into her new booster seat, joined in the fun even though she didn’t know why everyone was so happy. Christopher’s face fell when he saw the high chair at his accustomed spot. Without saying a word, Abby pulled the tray out and fastened the buckles once Chrissie was seated. She secured the tray tightly against his chest, pinning his arms in the process. Jess, meanwhile, moved to the back of the high chair and flipped an oversized bib over his head, tying it behind his neck. Hannah chuckled when she saw pink trim and the words “Mommy’s Messy Eater” on the front. The three women chatted about any number of subjects as they served out the food, essentially ignoring Christopher’s presence. His mouth drooled at the smell and sight of pasta with red sauce and meatballs. But how would he eat without the use of his arms? He was sure Hannah would see his predicament and fix it when he was given his portion. When all the plates on the table were filled, including Cassie’s, Hannah filled one more plate with a generous share of the spaghetti along with asparagus, broccoli, and garlic bread. Instead of setting it before her husband, though, she moved to the counter, scraped it all into the blender, and pushed the “puree” button. Thirty seconds later, she poured the mushed contents into a plastic Barbie bowl and but it on the tray of the high chair. “Can I feed, her?” Abbie cried. “Please?” “Sure, dear,” Hannah answered. “But I don’t want your food to get cold. You and Jess can take turns.” Christopher cringed as Abby took a small baby spoon, filled it with the now-unidentifiable and gross-smelling mixture, and moved it to his lips. His hunger overcame any resistance and he opened wide. He was still in the middle of a gag when the next spoonful was already there. And so it went with both Abby and Jess. By the time they were done, his face was covered in sauce and his bib was unreadable. “Thanks, ladies,” Hannah said as she cleared the table. “If you can finish up here, I’ll get him to bed. Then Jess, I don’t mean to kick you out, but I’ll need some time alone with Abby.” “No problem, Ms. C,” Jess replied. “I’ll tell my mom to expect your call.” Hannah cleaned Chrissy’s face with a wet paper towel, removed the tray and undid the buckles, then again took him by the hand. He heard two sets of giggles as he waddled after his wife. Hannah tucked in her husband, who wanted to complain but knew better. He hadn’t gone to bed with the sun still up since he was three. “Night night” Hannah told him as she switched on the night light and closed the door. As Christopher stared at the ceiling, he became aware of a wetness that was trickling down his rear. It was going to be a long night. “Does that mean that he’ll grow little titties?” Abby asked delightedly to her mother as they sat drinking tea at the kitchen table. “Possibly, dear,” Hannah replied with a smile. “But not for a while. The other effects will start sooner. But I want to be clear. His mind will be unaffected by the changes, but his body in essence will be that of a young toddler. Except for his titties,” she laughed. “And before we continue down this road, I want to make sure you’re on board with this because you’re going to be sharing his care. And that means bathing, feeding, dirty diapers, and more. And the estrogen will make his emotions more uncontrollable, just like any other baby.” “I got it, Mom, you’ve told me several times already. I mean, I know it’ll be gross at times. Wiping his nose or his drool, and I’ve already seen and smelled what his diapers will be like. And it’ll be extra work preparing bottles and baby food, watching him when you’re not here, and so forth. Just like I did with Cassie but...bigger. It’ll be worth it. But on two conditions.” Hannah looked at her daughter with suspicion. “Which are?” “First, that he no longer has the status as my father. I’m in total charge of him. And second,” Abby dramatically paused, drawing out the suspense, “I don’t really want a baby brother. I’d like another sister.” Hannah sat back and roared with delight. “I think we can arrange that,” she said. “Why don’t we move to the couch. I’ll get my laptop and we can do some shopping.”

9. “Hurry up Daddy.” Abby stood over her father as he sat on the diminutive potty seat, waiting for him to do his business. Cassie had gone almost immediately and was watching Christopher with curious eyes. “Jess will be coming over soon and I still need to feed you your lunch.” Christopher was having difficulty. It was different without Hannah present, and he couldn’t perform under the time pressure. If Abby would only let him use the toilet now that Cassie was done, or at least leave him alone for five minutes, but when he suggested these ideas Abby shook her head and shoved a pacifier in his mouth. “Fine,” Abby said only about thirty seconds later. “We don’t have time for this. If you need to go pee pee later you can come and get me or wait another two hours for the next trip with Cassie.” With that, she lifted Christopher by the elbow and guided him to his feet, then pulled up his training pants. Today he was wearing a pink pair with yellow flowers and see-through plastic panties. The trio made their way to the kitchen, where apple juice already sat at her two charges’ respective places. Abby hadn’t been confident enough to add the powder with her father in the room, so she had prepared it in advance and stirred it for over a minute to make sure it was fully dissolved. She watched her Christopher out of the corner of her eye as she prepared macaroni and cheese. He didn’t seem to sense anything out of the ordinary with the juice and she got bold. After she scooped out Cassie’s portion, she stirred extra powder into his macaroni and watched it melt into the hot cheese. Whatever this was, if one scoop was good two scoops was better. She made no secret of the fact that she wanted lunch to be over before Jess arrived, and sped things up by feeding Cassie by hand. Her continual reminders to Christopher that he needed to hurry led him to get sloppy and a couple of cheese-laden noodles dropped onto the front of his onesie. Abby sighed and wet a washcloth. “Honestly, Daddy, if this keeps up you’re going to need a bib.” She washed the stain away from his chest then roughly ran the washcloth over his face. “Lunch is over. You two can go and play in the living room.” She quickly rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before checking on them. Christopher had turned on a baseball game and had no idea that Cassie was climbing onto the top of the couch and pushing against the window screen. She yelped and went to rescue Cassie, depositing her into the playpen with a bag of blocks, toy phone, and some other toys. Abby then walked over beside her father, picked up the remote, and turned off the tv. “Mom was very clear, Daddy, you need to play with Cassie while Jess and I have grown-up time. And since I obviously can’t trust you to keep her out of trouble, she’ll need to stay in the playpen. That means you need to be in there with her.” Christopher looked into his daughter’s face and for the first time saw the reflection of her mother when she was firm in her resolve. He had learned not to challenge Hannah when she was that way and quickly decided not to cross Abby right now either. He also knew that any negative report from Abby would lead to a punishment from his wife. Without comment he stepped into the playpen and settled in one corner. Abby sat in the chair her father had just vacated and watched the action in the playpen with amusement. After a few minutes of pouting and acting sullen, Christopher eventually took a few blocks and tried to make a tower only to have Cassie topple it with a truck and laugh. Annoyed at first, he soon had a car of his own and joined his daughter in destroying any structure the two would make almost before it got off the ground. He started giggling along with Cassie, but his expression turned to one of horror when he heard the doorbell ring. Abby got up and opened the door wide for her friend to enter. Jess, a psychology major at the same college as Jess, took two steps in then froze, her eyes glued on the two playmates and her mouth dropped open. She finally turned her head to look at Abby. “I mean, my mom told me, but...” Abby smirked. “I know, it’s different to see it in person. And he normally doesn’t sit in there but he was being such a baby that I didn’t have a choice. Mom put me in charge. C’mon, they’ll be fine until potty time and we can go to my room.” Potty time? Jess wasn’t sure she had heard correctly but didn’t say anything further, continuing to stare at the playpen as Abby dragged her up the stairs. I guess we’ll see what that means later, she thought. As the teenagers talked and the afternoon wore on, Christopher began to regret his inability to use the potty earlier. The apple juice was having its usual effect on his bladder and to his dismay after looking at the clock, it was still half an hour until Abby would bring them to the bathroom. His play became less active and he focused more on crossing his legs and avoiding an accident. The second hand on the clock barely seemed to move and watching it didn’t help. He closed his eyes and tried to do math puzzles to pass the time. He was never so relieved as to hear footsteps on the stairs. Wait, though, he thought, it sounded like more than one set. Sure enough, Abby and Jess both came down together. Christopher assumed that Jess would wait in the living room. Toileting wasn’t a public affair after all. “C’mon, girls, let’s go potty,” Abby sang as she lifted Cassie out of the playpen. As Christopher stepped over the side, he felt his control slip a bit but he quickly shut down the dribble once he got out. He walked behind his daughter and stepped into the bathroom, waiting for Abby to settle Cassie. To his surprise, Jess appeared at the bathroom door. “Okay Daddy, your turn,” Abby told him as she reached to unsnap the crotch of his onesie. “Mmph, no!” Christopher muttered through the pacifier he’d forgotten was there. He spit it out. “Not with her watching!” “No, you can stay,” Abby told Jess as she motioned to go. “Babies have no privacy and he has to learn to go even with people around.” She turned to her father. “Take your hands away, Daddy, and let me undo you.” But Christopher was adamant. He backed into the wall, crouching down with his arms crossed in front of him, making any approach to his midsection impossible. Abby started to say something then stopped, reconsidering. A slight smile came to her lips which she immediately hid. “Okay, fine. Cassie’s done anyway. You both can go back into the playpen. I’ll turn on cartoons or something.” She led the group back to the living room and turned on the same channel she watched when she was two. She smiled as it seemed like the same shows were still on. She remembered being bored with them even then. Checking to make sure that both her sister and father were safely inside the mesh, she and Jess returned upstairs. It wasn’t long before Christopher could wait no longer. He knew that he’d never make it until the next potty break and wasn’t even sure he would last ten more minutes. As silently as he could, he stepped out of the playpen and made his way down the hall to the bathroom. Maybe if he peed in the tub no one would notice. When he reached the bathroom, the door was closed. That’s odd, he though, there shouldn’t be anyone in there. He turned the knob. Locked. He then heard laughter from upstairs, indicating both girls were in Abby’s room. Damn. She had locked the door. He had no choice now if he were to prevent a full-fledged wetting, which would have disastrous consequences when Hannah got home, not to mention how humiliating it would be if the girls found out. A minor embarrassment in asking Abby to take him would be the lesser of two evils. He crept up the stairs, each step making holding it in more difficult. He knocked gently at her door and opened it a crack when Abby answered “Yes?” “Um, Abby, could I see you in the hallway for a minute?” Christopher asked softly through the opening. “No Daddy,” she replied, “whatever you have to say you can say in front of Jess.” Christopher was torn. He did seem to have his bladder under better control. Maybe Jess would be leaving soon. “Never mind dear,” he said, and he returned downstairs. Minutes later his agony returned, only worse. Not only that, his stomach was sounding and putting pressure behind. Christopher realized that he hadn’t had a bowel movement since the morning before and it was past due. He had to swallow his pride and headed back upstairs. Again he knocked, only this time he entered and stood before the girls, who sat facing each other cross-legged on the bed. “Um, Abby, um...would you please take me to the bathroom?” Abby smiled. “I’m sorry, take you where Daddy?” Christopher grimaced, both in embarrassment and in pain. “Would you please take me to the p..p..potty?” “No I don’t think so,” Abby replied mischievously. “But I will bring the potty to you.” She left Christopher fidgeting in front of Jess for a quick trip to the upstairs bathroom. She knew that the upstairs potty chair was much more girly and infantile than the generic one on the main floor. She soon returned, spread a garbage bag on the carpet, then placed the potty in the middle, only a few feet from where Jess sat on the bed. Abby joined her. “Come here, Daddy, and let Auntie Jess pull down your panties.” This was too much for Christopher. “No, I won’t! I’m your father, dammit! I can go potty—I mean use the toilet—all by myself! I won’t have you treating me like a stupid infant,” he yelled. Abby and Jess sat dumbfounded at this display of defiance. Abby stood and walked over to her father, her face close to his. “Not an infant? Who pees his diapers every night? Who wears training panties during the day, and if I’m not mistaken these are even a little damp? Who needs to be taken to the potty? And who needs to be spanked for his little tantrum?” Taking Christopher by surprise, in one quick motion Abby pulled her father to the bed, sitting down and positioning him over her lap. Pulling his panties down part way, she slapped his naked bottom a dozen times, each one harder than the last, and each one punctuated by giggles from Jess. Deeply shamed and using all of his energy to resist releasing his bladder, Christopher offered no resistance as Abby took him by the ear and led him downstairs, a delighted Jess tailing behind with the garbage bag in hand. At Abby’s direction, she placed it in the near corner of the living room. “Daddy, your punishment is to stand in the corner for thirty minutes and not move a muscle, and no talking. If you do, your time starts over again. Do you understand?” Christopher nodded as he shuffled to his designated spot. By this time, his bladder was screaming, but it was the other end that worried him the most. There was nothing wrong with his sphincter, and he had never soiled himself. He wasn’t about to do so now. After less than five agonizing minutes, he needed relief. “Abby, please dear, I need—” he began. “What did I tell you about talking? Thirty minutes starts again...now.” The mere thought of starting over was too much for the chastised man. He decided to release a little pee to relieve the pressure on his bladder so that he could focus on his bowels, but once he started he couldn’t stop the flow. He switched his concentration to the front end only to lose the battle in the rear. He felt the rear of his training pants fill and completely lost control up front, half a day’s worth of urine streaming down his legs and forming a puddle on the garbage bag at his feet. He started to turn around only to hear a delighted Abby tell him that he still had twenty-two minutes to go on his timeout. Christopher couldn’t imagine how the situation could get any worse, but then it did. “What in the world is going on here?” he heard Hanna ask from the doorway.

8. Abby arrived at the bathroom, Christopher in tow, just in time to see Hannah quickly place the potty seat on the toilet and lower Cassie on top. Confused, she wasn’t sure what to do with her dad. Hannah noticed her hesitation. “I’m sorry, Abby, I forgot this is your first time. It’s important that your sister use the toilet in order to make the transition off of the potty chair, so your father will be using the baby potty for now. It’s in the closet but we might as well leave it out from now on. As you know every second counts and that may save a puddle.” Abby slid the potty chair out then bent down to undo the snaps of Christopher’s new shortalls. She misread his token resistance. “Try to hold it, Daddy, this will just take a minute.” Once the last snap was pulled away, Abby swiftly pulled down the training pants he had just been put in minutes before, stood, and guided him to a sitting position on the potty. Meanwhile the sound of urine hitting the toilet bowl from Cassie’s direction indicated success for the toddler. “Did you hear that, Daddy? Now can you go pee pee like Cassie just did? C’mon, baby, you can do it.” “Abby, I’m not...” Christopher began, but froze still as the sound of pee splattering on plastic rose to his ears from beneath him. “Yay!” Abby cheered, clapping her hands as she knelt before him. “Good job, girls!” Hannah joined in. “Our first double. This calls for an extra sticker on both charts.” She handed Abby toilet paper and both women proceeded to wipe or dab their respective charge. Christopher barely noticed Abby pulling him to his feet and redressing him as he focused on Hannah’s last words. Who was the other girl? What chart was she referring to? “Why don’t we all move to the kitchen while I start dinner,” Hannah suggested. “It’s Friday night. How do fish sticks sound?” The family moved down the hall and into the kitchen where Hannah deposited Cassie into the high chair and buckled her in. As Christopher went to sit, he noticed that a black trash bag had been taped over the seat of his chair. Hannah saw him hesitate to sit. “Just a precaution, dear. You know how hard it is to clean the cushions.” Grumbling, Christopher sat then spent close to a minute trying to settle his position where he didn’t feel like he was going to slide onto the floor. When he looked up, Hannah was at the stove and Abby was doing something to the front of the refrigerator. “And another smiley sun for big girl Cassie!” Abby said enthusiastically, earning a big smile from her sister. Christopher watched as his daughter placed a bright yellow sun sticker on Cassie’s potty chart. He hadn’t paid it much attention before, but now could see nearly that it had been nearly two weeks since her last rain cloud. “And Daddy, your first sun!” Christopher hadn’t noticed a second chart had been placed next to Cassie’s. It was identical to Cassie’s, but with far fewer stickers. The only two on the chart before Abby placed the sun on it were rain clouds. It wasn’t fair that they started keeping track of accidents without telling him, but he knew how ridiculous it would sound to start an argument over a toilet training chart. He wisely decided to keep mum. Hannah continued to prepare the fish while Abby cut up vegetables and made a salad. Cassie happily ate a few crackers that had been put on her tray while Christopher remained silent. He studied his wife as she worked. Did he do something to offend her? Was she mad at him? The two women soon were placing dinner on the table, fish filets for the women and fish sticks for Christopher and Cassie. Hannah poured herself a glass of wine, then brought a large glass of beer to Christopher. “A reward for your success, honey,” she told him cheerfully. Christopher couldn’t help but feel better. She must not be angry with him after all. He took a large swig. It didn’t taste quite right, but his mood was improving and he wasn’t going to ruin it by complaining. Soon he joined the conversation as Abby talked about acing her math test and the latest gossip at school, Hannah discussed some recipes for Japanese food she had found online, and Christopher complemented them on the dinner. Dinner was drawing to a close when Hannah suddenly remembered something. “Abby, I’ve got an opportunity to get first crack at the belongings of an elderly woman who just passed away before they have an estate sale. I’ll be leaving after breakfast and will be gone most of the day. I’ll need you to take over potty duty tomorrow.” “Mom!” Abby whined. “Jess is coming over tomorrow to hang out. I can’t babysit them all day.” “You don’t have to babysit, dear. I’ll make lunches before I leave and will leave money for pizza in case I’m not back for dinner. Your father can play with Cassie. All you need to do is take them potty every two hours or if one of them tells you they need to go. Jessica has a younger brother, I’m sure she’ll understand.” Christopher assumed that Abby would be thankful if he offered to take Cassie to the bathroom so that she could have uninterrupted time with her friend, and also that his own new potty rules would be suspended when company was over. His mind was so wrapped up in wondering what was for dessert, that he didn’t even think to ask. At breakfast the next day, Hannah busied herself in making lunches for the rest of the family and double-checking that she had everything she needed for the day. She had taken Chrissie and Cassie to the potty, dressed her husband in a onesie and her daughter in a romper, and they were both now happily eating their meals. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Chrissie drop some egg down his front before quietly brushing it onto the floor and looking around to see if Hannah noticed. Abby was still sleeping but would have to be woken up before Hannah left in the event of a toileting emergency. She was at the top of the stairs on her way to Abby’s room when her cell phone rang. It was Dr. Strong. “Good morning Hannah. The tests are in and it’s good news/bad news. The good news is that there’s no medical reason preventing Chrissie from staying dry during the day. The bad news is that there’s no medical reason preventing him from staying dry during the day. Your instincts were right. He’s just being lazy and expecting you to clean up after him.” Hannah gritted her teeth at the news. “No surprise I guess, Emily, thanks. I have to run but we can talk later. Oh, and I gave him the first dose last night.” “Remember that the muscle relaxants will start to take effect within a day or two and build in effectiveness for about a week until he’s as weak as a fifteen-month old girl. The timetables for the drugs that will eventually kill off all control of his bladder and bowels are hard to predict as to when they reach maximum effectiveness, but expect occasional accidents to start fairly soon. The estrogen and testosterone blocker are long-term, but you may have a moody teenager as he progresses through puberty.” “Great, another one,” Hannah laughed. “At least no period this time. Thanks, I’ll be ready. Bye.” As she hung up she pondered how much to tell Abby. She deserves to know, as she’ll have to deal with another baby in the family, she decided. But not now when she’s short on time. She sat on the edge of Abby’s bed and gently shook her daughter awake. “I’m leaving, sweetheart. You need to get up to be ready to take the two little ones to the bathroom. They went about forty-five minutes ago so you should be good for a while. But before I go, I have to ask you to do something for me.” The conspiratorial tone of her mother’s voice immediately got Abby’s attention and she sat up. “Sure, Mom. What?” Hannah hesitated before committing to going forward. “I need you to add a, um, supplement to your father’s drinks at lunch and dinner. It’s a powder that’s in an oatmeal box behind the flour and sugar in the cabinet. Don’t let him see you do it. A tablespoon each time and mix it in well. I’ll explain later tonight.” Abby was now wide awake with a hundred questions to ask, but her mother was already halfway to the door. Hannah turned around, smiled and winked at her daughter, and was gone. Abby felt a surge of excitement surge through her body and couldn’t comprehend how she would survive the day before her mom returned. Energized, she headed to the shower before she would go downstairs and say good morning to the babies.

Abby's age wasn't stated when I first posted and the mods thought that the first time she changed her stepfather's diaper bordered on a sexual situation, so they asked me to fix it. It's now stated in two different places that she's 18 and also noted that she goes to college. Not a big deal, I understand they have to be cautious.

7. Christopher sat on his bed, his thoughts jumbled. Upon arriving home from the doctor Hannah brought him into the bathroom, wiped him down with a warm washcloth, then gave him a clean pair of training pants. Other than several “tsk, tsks” from his wife, the process was performed in silence. She didn’t otherwise comment on his accident nor give him a chance to explain that the nurse was too slow in getting him into the bathroom so that it wasn’t his fault. How she viewed it, though, was evident in the large container of baby wipes that she put on top of his dresser. They’d also been married long enough that he could tell without speaking that she wasn’t pleased with him. Because of this, and despite the fact that it was the nurse’s fault that he wet himself, he chose to wait until she calmed down a little before he initiated his talk with her. He needed to make clear that her new rules were unfair, unnecessary, and undermined his authority with Abby. For now, though, he was avoiding her and decided to stay in his room and think about how to broach the subject without causing an argument. The stress of the morning’s events and the lack of anything to do eventually had his eyes drooping. A short nap, he thought, would help bring his mind back into focus. He awoke when the front door slammed and he heard Abby call that she was home from school, followed by a small shriek and her comment that “they’re here!” Christopher’s attitude immediately improved. She had to be referring to the clothes that she had ordered for him, which she must have requested express delivery for. He smiled for the first time in days. Finally, the first step back to reestablishing respectability. He stood up to make his way downstairs, but was startled to feel his training pants droop between his legs. This wasn’t his fault either, he knew, because he had fallen asleep and what happened was essentially bedwetting even though it occurred during the daytime. He wondered how noticeable it would be and whether he could quickly get one of his new pairs of pants over them before Hannah or Abby would see. Or maybe he shouldn’t take the chance and change before he went downstairs. But was Hannah keeping track of the number of trainers that he was using? Would changing only make things worse? He wasn’t that wet now, was he? Before he could make a decision, Hannah popped her head in the door. “Dear, your new clothes are here. Could you come downstairs for a few minutes?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and left, expecting him to follow. Encouraged by her pleasant tone of voice that seemed to say that this morning’s events were forgiven and forgotten, he gave up all thoughts of changing and left the room. Things were about to get better, he just knew it. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was greeted by the beaming smiles of the two women and the sight of several large boxes on the living room floor. Cassie, just back from daycare, was trying to climb one of them. Hannah picked her up and brought her to sit with her on the couch while Abby was cutting the tape on the first of the boxes. “I was lucky to find these at a huge discount. If I ordered in quantity and let the shop pick the patterns, probably those that weren’t big sellers for them, I got fifty percent off,” she said proudly. “So even I’m not sure what they look like except for the fact that they’re the top brand. Daddy, you don’t need to worry about those training pants anymore.” Christopher couldn’t believe his ears, but his elation quickly deflated when Abby reached into the box and pulled out a pair of large cotton yellow and lilac briefs adorned with flowers and butterflies. He was speechless, but Hannah quickly filled the void. “Those are darling, Abby. Can I see them? Oh my, they’re thick. They must have a dozen layers in the crotch. They’re even heavier weight than the disposables he’s using now. Good job. How many pairs did you get?” “Twelve, plus a coupon for twenty percent off if we order more,” she said brightly. “And they’re the brand for heavy wetters. Should we see the rest?” Christopher lowered himself into a chair as the women pulled pair after pair out of the box, oohing and ahhing at each one. There were several animal prints, plain pairs in pink and yellow, polka dots, and flowers. Not one of them seemed appropriate for a male, or for an adult for that matter. The only saving grace was that they would be hidden under the pants that must have been in one of the other boxes. “Well, c’mon Daddy, which one do you want to try first?” Abby gushed. “I know, this one with the turtles is super cute! Come here, I’ll help you.” Knowing he didn’t have a choice, Christopher walked over to where Abby sat on the floor, her head at his waist level. She reached to pull his current pair down before she paused, sniffed the air, and felt his crotch. “Mom, would you mind getting some baby wipes. I think all of this excitement was too much for Daddy.” Giving her husband a look of profound disappointment, Hannah left the room and returned shortly, handing Abby a box of wipes. She stood by while Abby had him step out of his soiled pants and wiped him down, then again left to dispose of the offending garment. When she returned, though, her face brightened at the sight of Christopher in his new training pants.” “Well isn’t that just the cutest,” she said. “And turtles spend a lot of time in water so they won’t mind getting wet.” “Oh yeah, speaking of that,” Abby said, “these don’t have the waterproof outer layer so I had to buy plastic panties to go over them.” As she spoke Abby reached into the box and pulled out a stack of plastic pants in assorted colors and patterns. She picked out a light yellow pair. “This one kind of matches. Well, it’ll definitely match the color of the panties after he wets them,” she giggled. “Now dear, be nice,” Hannah admonished, albeit with a smile. “Honey, step into those and then come let me see.” Christopher stood mute while his wife adjusted the plastic pants to make sure that the fabric beneath was completely incased. Satisfied, she patted him on the rear and sent him back to his chair. Abby pushed the now-empty box off to one side and pulled another over. “It wasn’t easy to find clothes in his size that we could get quickly, so a lot of what I ordered won’t be here until next week. But I bought a few outfits that he can wear for now.” Christopher leaned forward eagerly. Finally, he could cover up his shameful trainers. It would be far more convincing telling Hannah that she needed to start treating him more like an adult if he was wearing a pair of jeans. He blanched as his daughter pulled out the first of her purchases. “They’re onesies, see? I couldn’t believe they made them in adult sizes, but then I read that they’ll help keep his diapers—I mean his training pants—from sagging after they’ve been used. Isn’t that nice, Daddy? That way the fact that you need a change won’t be so obvious when you’re out in public. And look, they have snaps in the crotch to make changes easier.” Christopher was stunned as he looked at the pile of oversized onesies in any number of childish, even infantile patterns. His prolonged silence hung over the room. Hannah intervened. “Well, Chrissy, aren’t you going to thank her for being so thoughtful? They’ll save you lots of embarrassment if you have a wet or messy accident in front of others. You should be grateful.” “Th..th..thank you Abby,” he stammered. Please, he thought to himself, let there be something in one of the other boxes to cover these up, although his confidence in his daughter’s judgment was rapidly waning. His fears were quickly realized. “These are just the ones I could get fast,” Abby noted as she pulled three outfits from the final box. “There’s a couple of sets of shorts and tops with animal patterns. The shorts don’t have snaps but they can be pulled down easily, and one of them has a plasticized lining. But this is my favorite outfit.” Christopher’s hopes were raised as he saw something denim being pulled from the bottom of the box. Finally, he hoped, a pair of blue jeans. “Look at that, it’s a pair of shortalls,” Hannah cooed. “And a fire truck on the bib. Is there a matching shirt?” “Of course,” Abby said as she held up a white shirt with a red collar and fire trucks and dalmatians all over. “I think he should try this one first.” “Absolutely,” Hannah agreed. “It’s probably easier if you unsnap the crotch first so that we can adjust the shoulder straps.” Together the two women fussed and fiddled as they dressed Chrissie. He could have been a doll for all of the input he was allowed. Finally they stepped back, admiring their work. They had been so absorbed in discovering Christopher’s wardrobe that they had mostly ignored Cassie, who had been watching the proceedings quietly. Suddenly, though, she stood up and toddled over to Hannah holding her crotch with one hand. “Potty,” she said desperately. “Oh dear,” Hannah exclaimed. “Abby, I’ll bring Cassie. You grab your father.”

6. Christopher fidgeted in his chair, conscious of the furtive glances of the other adults in the waiting room and the not-so-subtle stares of the children. Being a school day, all of the kids there were five years old or younger, many still in diapers. The curious looks they got when they entered the doctor’s office without a child in tow turned to expressions of disbelief for those who overheard Hannah answer the receptionist’s standard question as to the reason for their visit with “he can’t seem to keep his pants dry.” It didn’t help that the office staff continuously opened the door to the back rooms a crack to take a peek at him. His embarrassment never lessened, as the women and children who were called back were quickly replaced by new sets, so that he was constantly scrutinized and judged by prying eyes. As much as he dreaded what was to come inside the exam room, every time a nurse opened the door to call a patient in he silently prayed that it would be him. Finally, his time came. An attractive young woman of around twenty-five with a cute bob cut and a chest that pushed the limits of her scrubs opened the far door wide and looked right in their direction. “Ms. Coleman and Chrissy,” she said loudly. Hannah stood, taking Christopher’s hand and leading him across the room past all of the other mothers, a low murmur filling the room as they walked. He breathed a huge sigh of relief as the door of the examination room closed behind them. “Now what brings you here today?” she asked innocently, ignoring Christopher and directing her question to Hannah. “My husband has been wetting the bed for some time now, which we manage with diapers, but lately he’s been tinkling in his panties during the day as well. I thought we should check to see if there’s a medical reason or if he’s just continuing his regressive behavior.” Christopher was aghast that Hannah didn’t mention his accident as the reason for his lack of control and started to interject but was met with a “hush” from both Hannah and the nurse. “I see. And is he wearing protection now?” “Yes, I’ve put him back in training pants for the time being.” “All right, well please help him up on the exam table here and strip him down to his training panties so that I can take his vitals. Do you know his height and weight?” Christopher was so annoyed that he was being treated as incapable of answering these questions on his own that he barely noticed as Hannah slipped off his shoes, pulled off Abby’s sweat pants, and started pulling his shirt over his head. He could have done that, he wanted to say, but he was being totally ignored. In one way, he thought, it was almost better if he didn’t draw the nurse’s attention to himself. That hope was quickly dashed. “Okay, Chrissie, I’m going to listen to your heart. This might be a little cold but it won’t hurt. Can you be a big boy for me and lie there quietly? Very good. Now let me look into your eyes with this tiny light and try not to blink. Can you do that? Now, Ms. Coleman, can you help turn Chrissie over so that I can listen to his lungs? Good gir..boy. Now Chrissie I need you to lie very still while I take your temperature.” Christopher started to turn back over and sit up, but felt two pairs of hands press down on him to keep him on his stomach. It wasn’t until he felt the back of his training pants being pulled back that it dawned on him what was going to happen. He started to protest, loudly. “Oh baby, you were being so good up until now,” the nurse’s voice sounded from behind. “Ms. Coleman, can you keep him still while I get something?” A few seconds later he felt a rubbery object being pushed between his lips. “Open up, baby. Now don’t spit it out or your mommy might have to spank.” Christopher crossed his eyes trying to see what had been forced into his mouth without success, but as his tongue explored it didn’t take him long to realize that it was a pacifier. What he didn’t know was that his exploration caused the binky to move in and out of his mouth as if he were sucking it, and that two women were watching with amused expressions. “Okay, Chrissie,” the nurse told him, “this won’t hurt and will be over soon.” Christopher felt her Vasoline-covered finger moving in and out of his rosebud followed shortly after by the cold and rigid thermometer, which the nurse held in by cupping his butt cheek. He knew he was blushing, partly out of humiliation and the infantile intrusion into his backside, and partly because of the pleasure he was feeling from it. For once, he was thankful that he was unable to react down there. Unknowingly, he did begin to suck the pacifier and was doing so rapidly. All too soon, the thermometer was withdrawn. “Normal,” he heard the nurse say. “You can turn him back over and pull his panties up. By the way they’re a little damp, but I think they’re fine for now.” Damp? They’re perfectly dry, and Hannah needed to know that. “Thhrmm ntt wwmtt,” Christopher protested. Hannah chuckled. “I think you can take your paci out now,” she told him, “unless you want to keep it in.” Christopher immediately reached to pull out the offending object, but his hand had barely touched its ring when Dr. Strong entered the room. “Oh, how adorable,” were her first words. “Please, Chrissie, leave that in. There’s more of the examination that I need to do and I’d prefer that you don’t distract me with questions or commentary. Your pacifier will remind you to stay quiet. Now scoot up and lie back down.” Lying flat, Christopher was unable to get a good view of what the doctor was doing, but he could hear metal objects being pulled out and clicked into place. Dr. Strong then appeared between his legs, the perspective making her seem larger than life. He felt his left foot being lifted and watched in horror as it was strapped into the stirrup, followed by his right. She then moved to the side of the table and pulled a heavy strap across his midsection, buckling it so tight that he was effectively immobilized. “Some of the tweens react a bit physically for their first gyno exam,” she explained in response to Hannah’s inquiring eyes. “In this case, it’ll keep him still while I probe his private areas, and the stirrups give me a bit of a clearer view.” Christopher tried to imagine himself on a quiet beach or relaxing in a hammock, or anything to avoid thinking about the invasions he had to endure at the hands of his wife’s friend. She too stuck a finger up his rear, then a couple more, and then moved them around as if looking for something. She cupped his balls, flopped his member back and forth, and stuck a tube down it to collect fluid. All of the morning’s activity stimulated his rectum, but not always in a good way, and Christopher cringed as he let out a wet fart. “I think we all know what that means,” Dr. Strong commented to Hannah as she pulled Christopher’s training pants back up, leaving his feet in the stirrups. “Let me get the nurse back in here to draw blood right away.” In seconds, the attractive nurse returned and had to stifle a giggle at seeing Christopher in a most feminine position. Ever the professional, she quickly regained her composure and drew the blood samples, but as she was leaving Dr. Strong stopped her. “Sarah, I’ll handle the samples. Would you mind taking Chrissy here to the potty while Hannah and I have a few words? And yes, it would be a good idea to stay and supervise him and wipe him if necessary. Thanks.” “Everything looks normal as far as I can tell,” she told Hannah when they were alone. “But I’ll run the blood tests to see if there’s anything I wouldn’t find in a physical exam. We should have the results by tomorrow. Let me ask you something, though. From his medical records and seeing no reaction to my manipulating him just now, it’s clear that his days of having sex are over. How do you feel about that?” Hannah felt a tear reach the corner of her eye. “Emily, it breaks my heart. He’s my husband and as long as we’re husband and wife I won’t betray him. He’s a good man in so many ways, and how would I look to divorce him for something that’s not his fault? But I really, really miss having a man inside of me. No, not just miss. I crave it. Am I expected to go the rest of my life relying on his tongue and my vibrator? It’s not fair.” Dr. Strong looked thoughtful as if she were making a decision. “What if he stayed a part of your life, but you no longer viewed him as your husband? Or,” she added with rising enthusiasm, “a man at all?” Hannah was confused but intrigued. “I don’t understand.” She watched as Emily opened a drawer and pulled out two large bags of powder. She smiled at her friend. “Let me explain.” And she did. Ten minutes later, giddy as a teenager, Hannah returned to the waiting area where an abashed Christopher sat in a corner in nothing but his shirt and training pants, trying to blend into the wall but seemingly unaware of the pacifier between his lips. The receptionist called Hannah over and handed her a plastic bag containing Abby’s sweatpants. “Wet,” she said in a stage whisper. Hannah looked at her husband and shook her head. If there had been any doubt before as to her plans for him, this sealed the deal. She took his hand and led him to the car.

4. “Honey, can you come here for a moment?” Christopher shouted out his bedroom door, being careful to hide all but his head from whomever might be lurking in the hallway. For the last twenty minutes he’d been searching his drawers and closets for a pair of cargo pants that was normally much too large around the waist for him without success. He prayed that Hannah knew where they were. Just as the door opened, he froze in fear after realizing that he hadn’t specifically called for Hannah, and was relieved when it was she rather than Abby that entered the room. Hannah smirked as she saw Christopher cowering before her dressed in nothing but his shirt, socks, and a pair of the training pants, which ballooned out from his body. They were much thicker than she imagined while putting them in his drawer earlier. “Well don’t you look adorable,” she said in her most innocent tone, “and they’re white just like your old undies, so you can barely tell the difference. Let me check the fit.” As she spoke Hannah knelt down and ran her hands around the garment, patting both front and rear and running her fingers under the leg openings. It felt like she was touching an enormous puffy cloud. “I think they’ll work perfectly well in stopping any leaks if you have an accident. Now was there something that you needed?” “I can’t fit my pants over them,” Christopher whined. “Do you know where that pair of gray cargo pants is? You know, the one that I accidentally bought the wrong size?” “Don’t you remember? We gave those away when we cleaned house last spring?” Hannah replied, knowing full well that they were actually hidden in the back of her closet where she’d put them earlier today. Christopher was in a panic. “But what can I wear over these, these...” “Training pants? You can say the words, no need to be ashamed. I can’t think of anything you have that would work, dear. Would it be so bad to just go without? Certainly it would make checking you for wetness easier.” Hannah felt a thrill inside to see all color drain from her husband’s face as he vigorously shook his head. “Well, I do have an idea. Hold on.” Hannah left the room, returning moments later with a short yellow skirt. “How about this? I don’t wear it anymore and you can have it to keep.” “I can’t wear that!” Christopher cried. “That’s for women! Don’t you have anything else?” “I’m afraid not, honey. It’s either this or just the panties. Make up your mind soon because dinner’s almost ready. Make sure you’re downstairs in five minutes.” Christopher’s first thought as Hannah left was that he would never leave his room again, but he couldn’t expect his family to bring him his meals and he was hungry. The idea of his daughters seeing his shameful underwear finally swayed him to put on the skirt. With no mirror in the room, he was unable to see that the bottom of his training pants clearly peeked out from beneath for all to see. He sheepishly headed downstairs. As he entered the kitchen, Hannah had to turn away to cover her involuntary giggle and Abby couldn’t contain her glee. “Gee, Daddy,” she said happily, “nice look. Would you like a bra to go with it?” “Abby, that’s enough!” Christopher exploded. “This is just to wear around the house since none of my pants fit over...well, just because my pants are temporarily unavailable. And not a word to anyone, you understand young lady?” “He’s right, dear,” Hannah added. “This is just within the family for now. Although it will be hard to hide your skirt, Christopher, when we go to the doctor tomorrow.” “The doctor? I never made a doctor’s appointment.” “I know dear,” Hannah replied softly. “I did. We need to find the cause of your daytime wetting and find a solution. There’s no need to be upset. I would think you would appreciate my proactive effort to get you out of training pants. We have an 11:00 appointment with Dr. Strong.” Christopher sat silently. Hannah should have consulted him, but on the other hand she did have his best interests in mind. Maybe that would be the first step back toward normalcy, and even set him on the path back into Hannah’s bed. He chose to remain silent. Abby, however, did not. “Dr. Strong? My doctor? Cassie’s doctor? Isn’t she a pediatrician?” “Well, yes,” Hannah admitted. “But she has more extensive experience in the areas that we need to consult her about.” “You mean bedwetting and pants piddling?” Abby replied gleefully. “I can see your point. She probably sees a lot of three-year-olds with the same problems.” The two women went on to discuss Abby’s school day, but Christopher tuned them out in a sulk. As soon as he finished his dinner, he quietly excused himself, rinsed his plate off in the sink, and left the kitchen to go watch television, ignoring the giggles emanating from behind him. “Christopher, dear, wake up. We need to get you upstairs to bed.” Hannah gently nudged her husband, who had fallen asleep while watching a game that quickly became one-sided. “Abby, you should come too.” Christopher stood up groggily, wondering why Abby was going to bed this early. She was usually the family’s night owl, even on school nights. He took hold of the hand Hannah held out and followed her upstairs, never once considering how much it made him look like a child following his mother to bed. His oldest daughter noticed, however, and also had a full view of her father’s training pants as she trailed behind them on the stairs. She couldn’t be sure, but they looked like they were drooping. “No, dear, don’t you remember? This is your room now.” Hannah directed Christopher away from the master bedroom and into Abby’s old room, pulling him toward the small bed and gently guiding him down onto it. The sound of a distinct crinkle filled the room signaling the presence of plastic under the pink princess sheets left over from Abby’s younger days. Christopher made a mental note to remove the plastic the next day and to find some other sheets that would fit the bed. It wasn’t until Hannah began to pull his skirt down his legs that he realized that Abby was standing beside her watching the process. He began to protest only to have Hannah push three fingers against his lips, motioning him to stay quiet. “Honey, you’re eighteen now and old enough to start helping with your father’s diapering. Now’s as good a time as any to learn how. It’s really not that different from changing a baby, just on a bigger scale. I’ve got an idea of how to convert the top of that long dresser into a changing table but for now we can just put a pad under him on the bed, like this. Lift your hips, dear.” By this time Christopher had turned a deep crimson and closed his eyes as tight as he could. He was silently praying that a giant hole would open up beneath him and swallow him down away from this embarrassment. But while he could keep from seeing the two women above him, he couldn’t close his ears and avoid hearing their running commentary. First, though, he heard a distinct sniffing sound. “Oh my. I think he might have wet himself when he fell asleep downstairs. Do you smell that? I know, it is reminiscent of Cassie, at least when she still wore diapers. Same principal here. Put a couple of fingers inside like this. Now you try it.” Christopher felt a second, smaller set of fingers starting to probe. “Eww,” Abby squealed. “He definitely peed himself. Can I have that wipe? Thanks, Mom. No, I’m okay. Can I finish the change?” Reflexively, Christopher opened his eyes as he felt his training pants being pulled down his legs, only to see Abby’s jaw drop and hear her uncontrollable laughter. “Mom, did you...did you...I mean...” “Yes, Abby, I keep his shaved down there. It’s more sanitary, cuts down on rashes, and is supposed to minimize odors, although I’m not sure about that last one.” Abby wasn’t done inquiring. “Does the lack of hair make it look smaller? Really? Oh mom, I’m so sorry. Are you sure Cassie is his?” “Hush dear, that’s not something he had any control over.” Hannah said, unsuccessfully trying to sound stern through her smile. “Now you want him to be clean before putting his diaper on, so make sure you wipe in all the creases and yes, even down there.” “Ick, ick, ick,” Abby muttered as she completed the task. “I think he needs to relearn wiping when we take him to the potty. No, let me finish what I started. Mom, these diapers aren’t very good. I think you need to find something thicker.” “I’ve thought about it but just haven’t had the time. Do me a favor. I’ll give you my credit card. Go online tonight and see what you can find. Look for some washable training pants too, they’re better for the environment and I have a feeling we’ll run out of these sooner than I thought. And as long as you’re shopping, see if you can find something for your father to wear that will fit over whatever training pants you buy. Thanks, honey.” Abby didn’t need to be thanked. She would have gladly used her own money to find a new wardrobe for her father. She practically skipped out the door on the way to the bathroom to wash her hands. “Good night, dear. Get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow.” Christopher wasn’t sure if Hannah’s tone was meant to sound like a parent talking to her child or if it was his imagination, but he didn’t miss the significance of her flipping on the Hello Kitty night light as she left the room. 5. Christopher stumbled sleepily into the kitchen for breakfast. He had found it hard to get comfortable in the child-sized bed until eventually he discovered a fetal position in which he could relax enough to fall asleep. He had reluctantly put on another pair of the offensive training pants, having no alternative, but he opted not to cover them with the skirt he wore the day before. That, unfortunately, made things even worse. He was surprised to see Abby already at her usual seat, as she usually rushed in only long enough to grab something to eat minutes before the school bus arrived. The reason for her early arrival became evident soon enough. “Good morning, Daddy,” Abby chirped. “Did you remember to go potty when you got up? Come here, let me check your panties.” “Abby, enough. I’m your father and...” Christopher got no further before he was interrupted. “Dear,” Hannah said firmly. “You’re still Abby’s father for everything else. But when it comes to your diapers and potty privileges, you need to listen to her. If I hear that you’ve refused to cooperate with her or of any backtalk, you’ll be sorry. Do you understand? Good. Now let her check to see if you’re still dry.” Biting his lip to hold back a comment that surely would’ve made things worse, Christopher stood and shuffled slowly to Abby’s side where he endured her intrusive fingers once again. Once she withdrew them he turned to go, only to feel her pull the back of his training pants back as she looked inside and audibly sniffed the air. “Good girl,” she said as the mortified man made his way back to his seat. He sat glumly as he began eating his cereal, avoiding all eye contact. Breakfast was over. Abby headed for the front door as her parents moved toward the stairs to go get dressed for the day when the baby monitor came alive with the noises of a waking toddler. Abby froze and turned toward her mother. “Mom...” she begged. “I’m sorry dear, you’ll have plenty of opportunities. Right now you need to get to school.” Abby grumbled but obeyed and left the house. Christopher marveled at the unspoken communication between the two women. How did Hannah know what Abby wanted, and what exactly was it? The answer came almost immediately as his wife stopped him before he entered his new room. “Not yet honey. Cassie needs to be taken to the potty as soon as she wakes up and I need you to try as well. Remember what we talked about? Every time she is put on the toilet, you are as well. It’s for your own good. You’ll start to regulate your bathroom trips and avoid accidents. You’re under the same rules she is. Stay clean and dry and you earn big girl panties. Too any wet or dirty pants and it’s back to diapers. So come along.” Christopher couldn’t believe his ears. He of course remembered their talk about toilet trips with his young daughter, although he’d hoped that Hannah had forgotten. But he didn’t think their discussion mentioned anything about the possibility of daytime diapers. Not that he needed to worry about that. He was an adult, after all. Christopher trailed behind his wife as they entered the nursery and listened without enthusiasm as she praised Cassie for staying dry at night, a part of him wondering if he’d ever be the recipient of the same accolades. The trio hustled for the bathroom, where Hannah quickly put the portable child’s potty seat onto the toilet and gently placed her daughter onto it. The child sat and played with the toilet paper dispenser but there was no immediate release of pee. Christopher didn’t see the point of his being there and began to fidget. Hannah took notice. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, I can tell you need to go potty. Cassie takes her time in the morning. Give me a second.” She reached past him to open the linen closet door and pulled out a baby potty chair, pulled down Christopher’s training pants, then motioned him to sit. “Cassie’s graduated to the grown-up toilet and it’s not recommended that she return to this one, so this will be yours for toilet time. And no standing, you’ll spray and make a mess. You’ll sit from now on.” Christopher could tell that this was an order, not a request. He didn’t want to have an argument in front of Cassie, but added this to his list of grievances he would bring up with Hannah later. With some difficulty he squeezed onto the seat with the help of his wife, who pushed his penis down behind the splash guard. A few minutes later he heard a tinkle from Cassie’s direction and saw the proud smile on his daughter’s face. Again, Hannah showered her with positive reinforcement before wiping her and lifting her off. She turned to Christopher. “Nothing yet? Keep trying, dear, while I get Cassie dressed. I’ll come back and check on you in a few minutes.” And he did try, but the combination of having peed when he got up and being in an unfamiliar and uncomfortable position on the undersized potty chair wasn’t conducive to results. He scrunched up his face, closed his eyes, and concentrated with all his might in order to make Hannah proud of him too when he felt a presence standing above him. “I can see you’re trying very hard, darling, but using the potty isn’t easy when you’re not used to it. We’ll try again later, but for now we need to get moving in order to drop Cassie off at day care and get to your appointment on time.” Hannah began moving away before stopping and looking back, studying Christopher as he pulled up his trainers. “I think it would be a good idea to bring along another pair, just in case.” Christopher walked to his room to get dressed, only then realizing that he had nothing that would fit over the bulk of the training pants, and there was no way he would wear a skirt again. Maybe if he threw a fit it would get him out of seeing the doctor at all. “Hannah!” he cried. “Come here.” “Good heavens, dear, what is it? And why aren’t you dressed?” “I don’t have any pants that fit, remember? And I don’t think you want anyone to see your husband out in public in a skirt.” “Is that all it is?” Hannah said softly. “Don’t worry, Abby came up with a solution. You can borrow these from her.” Hannah held out a pair of pale pink sweatpants. As he unfolded them, Christopher saw the faded, pastel floral decoration that he remembered from a picture of Abby from when she was twelve. He looked up at Hannah in dismay. “It’s that or the skirt dear. Now hurry, we need to go.” “Can we stop on the way and buy a pair of men’s sweatpants?” he pleaded. “No time, dear. Besides, Abby said she ordered some clothes for you that’ll fit and they should be delivered later today. No sense spending money if we don’t have to. It’s only for the morning. Now move!’ Christopher pulled the sweats up his legs and over the training pants. They were stretchy enough to wear, although they did little to hide all of the padding and only went down to his mid-calf. Christopher signed in resignation. He could make it through the morning, then he’d get his new clothes and have a talk with Hannah and everything would be okay. And if he told himself that over and over, he would almost believe it.

I don't know about a follow-up. As I mentioned elsewhere, I've been away from AB stories for a long time while I've written and published mainstream novels. TPTB is my most popular story and it's probably best I just leave it alone, but maybe if I'm bored with time on my hands sometime I'll circle back to it. Glad you enjoy.

I am a writer and have published three mystery novels with a fourth on the way later this year. All of them are in first person because I want the reader to see only what the main character sees and to hear his thought processes. I think this works well with mysteries because the motives and thoughts of all of the other characters are hidden from the reader, heightening the suspense. That being said, it's more difficult to write from that perspective and there are a lot of mainstream readers who refuse to read first person fiction. When I write AB stories, it's always third person. I prefer it because then I can show the thoughts of the character being babied, the person who forced him into that role, and everyone around them. It really comes down to what you're comfortable with, though.

Thank you, little won, that warms my heart. I hope you enjoy this one as well.

3. “I mean, there’s no medical reason that he should be wetting himself during the day, is there? He may have a weakened bladder, but he managed to stay dry up until the last few weeks, so I wonder if he’s given up trying.” Hannah sat in the cramped office of her friend Emily Strong, a pediatrician who cared for both of Hannah’s children as well as those of half the town. She was a tall and imposing woman renowned for her extensive knowledge of any and all medical issues from newborns up to adolescence. Hannah respected her no-nonsense attitude and her uncanny ability to diagnose a problem and prescribe exactly what was needed to address it. That, and she wasn’t afraid to be frank with her friends on personal matters even if her advice made them uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t think so,” Emily answered. “It’s not the kind of injury that typically degenerates over time.” She paused to bring her schedule up on the office computer. “Tell you what. I have a cancelation tomorrow morning at 11:00. I’ll have Christopher’s medical records sent over in the meantime. Why don’t you bring him by and I’ll give him a thorough examination. In the interim, I suggest you fill this.” Emily wrote out a prescription and handed it to her friend. Hannah took several seconds trying to decipher the handwriting before giving up, throwing a puzzled look at the bemused doctor. “They’re medical grade adult briefs, basically disposable training pants for grown-ups. Far thicker and more absorbent than what you can buy off the shelf, and they have a waterproof outer lining. That should reduce the amount of your laundry for now, although to save money long-term you might want to invest in some cotton briefs. Lots of options online.” Hannah gawked at her friend, but the image of her husband in training pants and an idea that simultaneously popped into her head made her insides tingle. She smiled broadly as she stood to go. “Thanks, Emily. I’ll make sure he’s wearing a pair when we come by for his appointment tomorrow. See you then.” Emily watched as Hannah left the office, filled with compassion for her unfortunate friend, then turned back to her computer. There was time before her first appointment of the day to do some research and to order a few supplies to be delivered on an expedited basis. If, as she suspected, Christopher was simply letting himself regress with no expectation of consequences, she wanted to be prepared for tomorrow. Christopher’s resolve to confront his wife about the morning’s events dissipated as the morning wore on. He never liked conflict and the more he thought about it the more he could see things from Hannah’s perspective. And maybe he could turn the separate bedroom arrangement to his advantage. He’d always wanted a man cave, a room where he’d be free to be himself, but until now there was no extra space in the house he could use. This could be the opportunity he was waiting for. He hadn’t spent much time in Abby’s former bedroom since she had moved to a bigger room before he’d met Hannah, and Cassie was still in the nursery. Now he stood at the doorway, looking at it with a critical mindset. It wasn’t huge but would do nicely. The child-sized bed could be moved to the garage until Cassie was out of the crib, and the pink and white dressers could be painted. His computer would fit into one corner and he might be able to fit a decent-sized television in another, along with a comfy chair. The closet was even deep enough that he could put a mini-fridge to store beer, soda, and snacks. Christopher smiled. Yes, this could work out well after all. Of course, the pink and purple trim would have to be repainted and all of the nursery rhyme decals peeled off of the walls. He would replace those with posters of his favorite sports teams. And the rug with baby animals on it would simply be rolled up and eventually moved to Cassie’s room. What started off as an idea he was ready to stand firm against he was now ready to embrace. Hannah would be proud of his enthusiasm in making the move and how he’d turned a negative into a positive. He couldn’t wait to tell her his ideas. He was disappointed, then, when Hannah returned late and busied herself with other matters around the house. The frostiness of the morning had thawed and they were cordial with each other, although interactions were brief. Hannah did say that they’d start moving him to his new room after Abby got home and seemed surprised at his lack of argument. The afternoon moved slowly but finally Christopher heard the front door close and recognized the distinct sound of a heavy backpack being dropped on the floor. Excitement ran through his body as he waited to be summoned to assist with moving his clothes to his new room. Just think, his own man cave. Christopher practically flew up the stairs when Hannah called to him, where he encountered his wife and Abby standing just inside the door of his new bedroom. Cassie was toddling around exploring. He’d have to make sure that they all knew that once it was set up, the room would be off limits to the children. “I brought some boxes so that Abby and I can put away her old clothes to store in the attic while you carry your clothes in from my bedroom,” Hannah told him. “You can lay them on the bed until the closet is cleared out.” “Before we start, let me tell you about my idea for the room,” Christopher stated proudly. He then proceeded to lay out the plans he had so carefully constructed in his mind earlier, but was soon interrupted by Abby. “Mom, he can’t do that! You promised Cassie that when she’s potty-trained she can move into the big girl’s room, and she’s getting close. If Daddy makes any changes, he’d have to change them right back again. That doesn’t make sense and isn’t fair to Cassie.” As Abby spoke all eyes moved to the toddler, who was grinning as she moved from bed to dresser to closet, pointing at everything while she repeatedly said “mine.” Unknowingly, the youngest member of the family was dealing the final death blow to her father’s plans for a man cave. “She’s right, dear,” Hannah said sternly as she turned to face her deflated husband. “It may only be a matter of a week or so before Cassie is fully trained, and she knows that this room is her reward. We can’t break our promise to her. Don’t worry, that gives you a week to prove that you deserve to come back into my bed, otherwise there’s the nursery.” Abby had to suppress a giggle while Christopher stood dumbfounded. He wasn’t made aware of the promise to Cassie, although to be honest he hadn’t really participated in her toilet training. That was left to the two women. His dream of his own room was vanishing. The nursery was smaller, but maybe if he put the tv on top of a dresser he could squeeze everything in. All he knew now was that there was no sense fighting a battle he would lose. With a sigh, he turned to go collect his clothes. He was hanging up the last of his shirts in the closet when he noticed Hannah placing unfamiliar items in one of the dresser drawers. Try as he could, he couldn’t figure out what they were. Towels, maybe? Hannah smiled. “No, dear. These are your new underpants. If you look on the bed, you’ll see that I lined up the underwear you’ve worn for the past week. Seven pairs, seven heavily stained with urine and one even has a streak in the rear. I’m going to have to toss away all of them, they’re too far gone to wash. Before we buy new ones, you’ll need to prove that you can stay dry during the day. These are disposable and absorbent, so if you have an accident you won’t ruin your panties or the furniture.” Neither parent noticed Abby had returned from bringing a box to the attic and was standing in the doorway listening intently. She was giddy, with Christmas coming early in what she had just heard. “Wait, Mom, you mean Daddy has to wear training pants just like Cassie? Will we need to remind him to go potty like we do with her?” Christopher started to say something but a look from Hannah shut him down before the words got to his mouth. “You know, honey, that’s a great idea. Your father will benefit from a little more structure in his toileting. From now on, every time one of us brings Cassie to the potty, we’ll make sure he goes as well. They can be potty buddies. That way we can also check to see if your daddy needs a new pair of panties at the same time.” It was all she could do not to jump and scream, but Abby wasn’t dumb. She knew she had to play this cool, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t rub her father’s new status in a bit. “Cool. And Daddy, if you have to go at any other time, come and ask me to take you to the bathroom. Maybe we should get your own sticker chart like the one Cassie has on the fridge.” “Great idea, dear,” Hannah added. “It couldn’t hurt. And from now on, Christopher, you also need to ask any grown-up to take you to the toilet for pee pees or poo poos, and either one of us can also take you at any time we think you might have to go. We know the signs. All right? Good. That’s settled. Come downstairs, girls, and let your father change into his trainers.” Christopher was paralyzed on the spot. What had just happened here? Decisions had been made as if he had no say at all, and no one asked for his opinion. And to treat him like some incontinent toddler was just unfair! As he pondered what to do, his glance at the bed brought seven pairs of heavily-soiled underpants into his view. Defeated, he grabbed them up and brought them to the trash, added the pair he was wearing, and reached for the dresser drawer.

2. “Change rooms? I don’t understand, why would I do that?” Christopher was shell-shocked at his wife’s suggestion. He had no sooner sat down to breakfast at the kitchen table than Hannah broke the news. And by the tone of her voice, she made it sound like an order rather than a point up for discussion. He would have none of it. “We’re married and should be sharing a bed, that’s what married couples do. Besides, the only spare bedroom we have is Abby’s old room.” Hannah was non-plussed; this was the reaction she’d expected and she was ready. “You’re always saying that you’ll do anything to make me happy,” she replied sweetly. “And this will make me happy. You want a happy wife, don’t you?” “But why? You’ve never complained before.” “Christopher, I just reached my breaking point. I was hoping I would adjust and get used to your smelly diapers, but that never happened. If anything, I think you’re wetting more than you used to. I need my sleep, dear, and unless you have another idea you need to sleep in Abby’s old room until we come up with a better solution.” Christopher was momentarily without a response. He did want his wife to be happy, and in Hannah’s shifting the burden of a solution to him, he felt it necessary to come up with an idea, any idea, but nothing came to mind right away. He’d have to find another reason not to move. “But dear, if I move into a separate bedroom, we couldn’t hide that from Abby, and how would we explain...” “Explain what?” Abby entered the kitchen in a rush to grab a piece of toast or granola bar before heading off to school, but discovering something that her stepfather wanted hidden from her was too good to pass up. She could be late for geometry class. She got along with Christopher well enough, but at times he could be a real pain in the ass. If there was a secret out there that would give her any leverage over him, she wanted to know what it was. Across the table, Christopher was in a panic. Abby was well aware of his toileting issues. You couldn’t be in the house more than a couple of hours before noticing that he constantly had to run to the bathroom to avoid having an accident. But Hannah and he had been successful in hiding his diaper wearing from their daughter out of fear of undermining his authority, not to mention how humiliating it would be if she found out. Up until now, any smell of urine upstairs could be attributed to Cassie’s diaper pail, although she was in the process of potty training and for the past week had only been in diapers at night and when leaving the house. That excuse wouldn’t last much longer. Hannah saw the fear in her husband’s eyes but was resolute in her plans to take control of her life, even if it meant altering the family dynamic. “Sit down, dear. I can drive you to school so that you won’t be late because there’s something that you should know.” Hannah noticed Abby lean close in as she sat, eager to hear what came next. Her daughter’s enthusiasm gave her the push she needed to continue. “You know that your father has a weakened bladder from the accident that basically gives him the control of a eighteen-month-old girl. What you don’t know is that while he can barely manage to keep his pants dry during the day, he’s not so fortunate at night. In order to manage his bedwetting, he needs to wear diapers when he sleeps.” Abby couldn’t believe her luck and a broad smile broke over her face. She looked directly at her father, who had turned three shades of red, while still addressing her mother. “You mean he pisses in a diaper like a baby? Is he wearing one now? Do his diapers have cute designs on them? Can I see?” “Whoa, sit back down girl, he doesn’t have one on now. At least for the present time, he only wears them at night. You’ll have the chance to see them at some point. Now that the secret is out, you can help me by diapering your father when I’m not home to do it myself.” Christopher couldn’t believe what he was hearing nor how fast the situation had deteriorated. Not only were the two women talking about him as if he weren’t there or wasn’t allowed into the conversation, a decision to let his teenage stepdaughter get involved in a very private process was made without consulting him. Just because he wore diapers didn’t give them the right to treat him like a child. He needed to say something, but Hannah spoke up before he could think of what to say. “Anyway,” she began, “we’ve decided that until he can get his bedwetting under control, he’ll be moving into your old room. We’d appreciate it if you could help us with the move.” Before Abby could answer, movement could be heard through the baby monitor. “Oh dear, Cassie’s awake early. Christopher, would you please go check on the baby while I drive Abby to school?” “Yeah, Daddy,” Abby chimed in as she grabbed her backpack. “Please go check on the other baby. I wonder if she was able to stay dry overnight or if she joined the soggy diaper club.” With that, the two women left the house, leaving Christopher stunned and seething

An Unhappy Wife 1. Tired of staring at the ceiling in the dark, Hannah sat up in bed and glanced at the clock. 3:35 a.m. Waking up in the middle of the night had become an unwelcome habit as of late and she wasn’t happy about it, but nothing seemed to work to relax her mind and allow her to go back to sleep. As she had so many nights before, she decided to pass the time by evaluating just what was the cause of her restlessness. She knew she had a good life. A loving husband, two wonderful children, and a life of relative ease. She’d married her first husband after she got pregnant with Abigail while still a teenager, but after a few years of tolerating his infidelity sued for divorce and got a large settlement along with a good-sized child support payment every month. Combine that with the money from Christopher’s lawsuit against his employer after the industrial accident at the plant six months ago and his disability payment and neither one of them would ever have to work again to live a comfortable, even a luxurious, life. Not that she stayed idle, that simply wasn’t in her nature. She started up her own Etsy shop through which she sold one-of-a-kind curiosities that she found both online and by scouring the area’s garage and estate sales. Twice a year she’d travel around the country to increase her supply. She found that she had a talent for finding things that no one else saw value in until she cleaned them up and marketed them on her site. It kept her busy, gave her a purpose to her days, and made her happy. She heard a soft groan to her left and looked over at her slumbering husband. In some ways he was absolutely the answer to any woman’s dreams. He was thoughtful, caring, affectionate, and a good father to both eighteen-year-old Abby, a lovable pain in the ass in her first semester at the local community college, and to Cassie, their own two-year-old bundle of energy. He and Abby had their conflicts when he was a little more strict than he should have been, but then teenagers needed a firm hand sometimes and she admitted that she herself was a little soft when it came to the kids. Yes, she was lucky to have found him. And yet, she realized, it was also Christopher who was the source of her angst. The accident had caused a lot of damage to his internal organs, rendering him impotent. He did his best to satisfy her needs in other ways, but she was growing increasingly desirous of having a man inside her, to bring her the waves of pleasure that only penetration could achieve. She was at her sexual peak and even though she knew that her husband’s inability to give this to her wasn’t his fault, she found herself irritated with him all the same. More and more, thoughts of finding pleasure elsewhere occupied her thoughts, but she was loyal to the idea of institution of marriage, as well as to Christopher. As long as she saw him as her spouse, an affair was off the table. But then there were the diapers. Along with the impotence came damage to his bladder, which gave him the control of a young toddler. He often didn’t know he had to go until the last minute, which had him rushing to the bathroom. This could be annoying, but during the day the effect on their lives was minimal. At night was a different matter. During Christopher’s first few weeks home from the hospital, he was getting up to pee three or four times during the night, disrupting Hannah’s sleep. Too many days in a row with only a few hours of sleep, combined with several wet beds, forced her to put her foot down and demand that he wear diapers at night. To his credit he only put up a token resistance and she’d diapered him before bed from that point on. The few times he’d tried to do it himself showed he couldn’t be trusted to get the diaper on tight enough to prevent leaks, so she assumed that responsibility. But then there was the smell. The odor of a baby’s wet diaper didn’t bother Hannah, but then she didn’t sleep in a nursery where she had to breath in the stench of urine for eight hours straight. Having to actually share a bed with the source of the odor was the initial cause of her waking up, then her irritation at the situation kept her awake. It didn’t help that her husband and bedmate blissfully slept through the night in his sopping, stinking diaper. None of this may have been his fault, but he could at least be considerate enough to share the consequences. Not once when he wet the bed, or the couple of times that his diaper leaked, did he offer to wash the sheets, leaving it up to her deal with his mess. Same with his underpants. Almost every day lately his underpants were wet by the end of the day and Christopher simply threw them in the hamper and expected her to wash them. This wasn’t the case until the last few weeks, leading Hannah to suspect that he was simply being lazy when it came to using the toilet. In fact, it dawned on her that even though he was home all day, he didn’t make dinner, clean, or do much of anything to help with the daily chores. Sloth was one thing she couldn’t tolerate, especially when it meant more work for her. Just thinking about it made her angrier than she could ever remember being. That’s it, Hannah thought. If Christopher wouldn’t assume control of the situation, she would take charge. Starting that morning she would make some changes and he would have to accept them. Gleefully her mind began to create a checklist that would save her sanity. Eventually satisfied, she lowered her head to the pillow and, to her surprise, fell instantly asleep.

I've been told that this story disappeared in the great purge a few years back, so here it is again. The Shrink I. Doctor Patricia Neeland slumped back in her chair, her eyes staring unfocused across the expanse of her office. Her last patient, a fifteen-year-old boy who had been sent to her after he started wetting the bed for no apparent physical reason, had stormed out of the office halfway into the fifty-minute session when her questions became too embarrassing for him to handle. On any other day, she would have pursued him and coaxed him back onto the couch. Today, though, she welcomed the longer interval before her noon group therapy session for troubled teens. Today, she needed the time to sort out her own feelings about what had happened the night before. It had been a typical night, ending as it usually did with she and her live-in boyfriend of three years snuggling together in bed. She could sense his discomfort, though, a tension running through the muscles of his body. It wasn’t like him to keep anything from her, and a simple prompt asking if everything was okay opened the gates. Robert was a freelance copy editor who worked out the home they shared, having set up a small office in the corner of their den. That afternoon he was doing battle with a stubborn author who took issue with the changes he had made to her novel to better conform with the publisher’s norms. He couldn’t tell the unfortunate writer that he actually agreed with her arguments without losing his job, so he was stuck defending positions that didn’t represent his own views. He had just hung up the phone and was attempting to calm himself down when the doorbell rang. Normally he would ignore it while working, but he needed the distraction. Striding quickly to the foyer, he flung the door open. It was Joyce, a neighbor from down the street. Robert and Patricia didn’t really count her among their friends, having only chatted briefly at block parties. They knew her more from the rumors that swirled through the neighborhood gossip channels which pegged Joyce as a tramp and man-stealer. To hear the worst of it, she had had affairs with no fewer than three married neighbors that led to two divorces. Probably an exaggeration, but who knew? It was that reputation, deserved or not, that sent nervous tremors through Robert’s body when he saw Joyce standing before him. In Robert’s recounting of what happened next, Joyce invited herself in and before he knew it they were sitting at the kitchen table having coffee. Not far from the truth, Patricia thought, knowing how timid Robert was and how easily he could be manipulated. An aggressive woman would have him eating out of her hands in no time. The purpose, or pretext, of Joyce’s visit was to find the name of a reliable plumber. She had an emergency and needed someone better than the last plumber she called. She didn’t have phone numbers of any of the neighbors so she just started knocking on doors, and wasn’t it her good fortune that Robert had answered? Robert provided the name of a plumber but Joyce had questions about his credentials, which led to stories about toilet disasters, which somehow morphed into Robert bemoaning his latest problems with the recalcitrant author. Whatever plumbing emergency existed couldn’t have been that urgent, as an hour quickly flew by as they talked. Robert never noticed that Joyce’s chair had gradually shifted closer to his, and he jumped in surprise as she put her hand onto his shoulder. Soon it moved to his thigh. She might just be one of those people who talk with their hands, he had explained to Patricia, but he wasn’t sure. At that point his cell phone rang and the irate publisher on the other end of the call demanded his immediate attention, so he swiftly led Joyce to the door. Was she flirting with him, he asked Patricia that night, or was it his imagination? Should he have done something sooner? Robert stammered out the questions without waiting for answers, and Patricia recognized the signs of guilt. Something more was bothering him, so she ventured a guess. Was there a part of him that welcomed Joyce’s attention? Robert blanched, and Patricia had her answer even before he spoke. Yes, he said, he was flattered in a way. But he would never, never act on it. She had to believe him. And Patricia did believe him, but that didn’t make her any less upset. Just because she was a psychologist didn’t make her any more rational than anyone else would be in that situation. She said some things she shouldn’t have and cried and yelled, and in the end sent Robert to sleep in the spare bedroom. She snuck out of the house early in the morning to avoid seeing him until she knew that she would have something cogent to say about the situation. He had already called twice, but she allowed the calls go to voice mail. Let him sweat. She knew she had been too harsh with him; he did open up to her and she had no doubt that he had told the full story. But she also didn’t want to take any chances that Joyce, or someone just like her, would someday take advantage of the man. Patricia was his first real relationship—he was several years younger than herself--- and he was more like a boy than a man in some ways in knowing how to deal with women. He was naïve and childlike in so many ways, in fact, but that was part of his charm. He was also attentive, loving and devoted in a way that no prior man had ever been. He and Patricia seemed to fit together perfectly and she was not about to lose him to some trollop. And she knew that she was a jealous enough type of person that one affair would be enough for her to dump him forever. Not that any affair he had would last long once the woman got him into bed. Patricia smiled at the image. Robert didn’t know it—he was a virgin when Patricia deflowered him—but he was a woeful lover. His penis was small, which wasn’t in itself a bad thing, but he didn’t make up for the lack of size with any special skill. And he was the poster boy for premature ejaculation. In and over in less than two minutes. Most women would be frustrated with their lover’s lack of performance, but for Patricia it was one more reason to keep Robert close. When she was barely a teenager, a boy whom she thought was a friend overpowered her and took advantage of her. It was violent and disturbing and left Patricia scarred emotionally. Her parents refused to believe her, her school counselor covered it up and there was no one to help her work through the serious issues she had as a result of the incident. It was that lack of support that led her to become a child psychologist. Perhaps she could offer help to tortured young souls that she never got. The irony, Patricia knew, was that despite all of her education and supposed wisdom, she could never cure herself of her inner demons. Sex, to her, was unpleasant and unnecessary to her fulfillment as a person. That’s why Robert’s infrequent quickies were a positive thing. She could never satisfy any man with a healthy sex drive and any penetration for longer than a few minutes would be horrific. She needed to keep him close. There was one more reason that she could not imagine life without Robert. Nicole, her seventeen-year-old daughter. Despite the circumstances under which she was conceived, she loved Nicole deeply and devoted her life to her. Robert came along just as Nicky was entering into the difficult teenage years, and having him as a sort of father figure helped keep her daughter on the right path. Mostly, anyway. He was a good influence on her and Patricia shuddered to think what would happen if he left their life. Which brought her full circle back to her dilemma. Kicking Robert out of the house was never an option, and in reality he didn’t do anything wrong. Still, Patricia had to think of a way to prevent any chance of a repeat performance. Since she couldn’t count on the boy to recognize the signs of seduction in time to cut them off, the obvious choice was to make him undesirable to other women. But how? What could she do that would maintain his attractiveness to her while putting him off limits to others? An image of her last patient flashed through her mind, and an idea took root. In an instant, an entire plan formed in Patricia’s mind. It was a bit extreme, more than a little devious, but at first glance would be exactly what the doctor ordered. There was no time to consider details, as she could hear her group of unruly teenagers gathering in the waiting area. But it would work. A sudden peacefulness filled Patricia’s mind as she got up to open the door. II. Patricia used the time during her drive home that evening to fill in details of her plan, and to look at it from every angle. It was deceptively simple, which meant fewer chances of something going wrong. But there were definitely a few possible bumps that could derail the whole thing, and she had to temper her enthusiasm. For one thing, the whole plot hung on her ability to dust off an old skill that she had learned as a tool for her therapy but which she rarely used. She was confident that it wouldn’t take long to get back up to speed, however, and if things went according to plan, Robert would knowingly subject himself to it anyway. If it took longer than she expected to bring him under her spell, the delay would be frustrating but would not spoil anything. Besides, knowing him he would be so willing to please her that she could succeed even as she got back into her rhythm. The bigger concern was Nicky. She would need to be informed early on about what was going on and at a later point might even need to be involved. Patricia frowned. Would she think her mom had totally lost her mind? Would she reveal everything to Robert in order to protect him? Not likely. Nicky had resisted the authority Patricia gave Robert over her daughter and it was clear that Robert’s lack of parenting experience made him timid with her, even as he tried to enforce discipline. There was a bigger chance that Nicky would tell him what Patricia had planned if she thought he would take offense and move out. She was an intelligent girl, and the thought would occur to her. But would she risk alienating her mother and actively take away a true source of happiness for her? Possibly, but probably not. For one thing, Nicky would be leaving for college in the Fall and would more likely focus on the fact that she would not be under Robert’s roof much longer. An even stronger reason, though, was that there would be a heavy dose of humiliation on Robert’s part and Nicky would eagerly anticipate being a witness to it. The more she considered Nicky’s possible reaction, the more convinced Patricia was that she would enthusiastically support the whole plan. Maybe too much; she might actually try to take things to a level beyond what even Patricia intended. She would have to be watched as things unfolded. By the time she pulled into her driveway, Patricia was not only convinced that she should immediately move forward with her plans, but had practiced her initial speech for Robert. She was never one to procrastinate. The minute she walked into that house, it was game on. Robert’s life would start changing that very night. III. Robert was hiding in the den, pretending to be hard at work in order to avoid Patricia, which was fine with her. She needed to talk to her daughter before confronting Robert and starting him on the program that would protect him from the advances of other women. If he knew what was in store for him, she thought smiling, he might not wait so meekly to see how Patricia would be following up on their heated exchange from the night before. Patricia found Nicole on her bed, listening to music. She looked up questioningly as her mom entered the room. Patricia knew that nothing got by Nicky, and she almost certainly had heard the argument, or at least the raised voices. It was a sign of how mature she was getting that she didn’t raise the subject on her own, but waited until her mother was ready to talk. It made things easier. “So how much did you hear last night?” Patricia asked with a soft smile as she sat on the end of the bed. “We were probably pretty loud.” “I heard you yelling, but didn’t make out any of the words,” Nicky responded. Patricia could tell she was dying of curiosity but wasn’t pushing for an explanation. “It isn’t like you to scream at him like that.” “No, it isn’t, and I apologize that you had to hear that. A child should never have to get in the middle of her parents’ disputes.” Patricia winced at her own words. Careful now, she told herself, don’t go all “therapist” on her. She took a breath and continued. “And really I should be apologizing to Robert as well. I overreacted.” Patricia then replayed the entire argument for Nicky, being careful to stress that Robert had been forthright and that her own anger at Joyce had been misdirected at him. She explained how important he was to her and how devastating it would be if she lost him, whether to another woman or in any other way. Patricia looked into Nicky’s eyes, hoping that she was getting the message that nothing that was being said in that room, woman to woman, was to be used as a device to get him to leave. Nicky looked sincerely saddened at her mother’s distress, which was a positive sign. Patricia paused before getting to the heart of why she was there, silently evaluating whether she should open up after all. Nicky assumed that Patricia was done speaking and used her silence to jump into the conversation. “So, Mom, if what you say is true and you need to apologize to Robert, why are you here talking with me?” Patricia smiled. Astute girl, she thought. She looked directly at her daughter, made up her mind to follow her original plan, and spoke with confidence. “Because I’ve decided not to apologize to him. I need to be proactive to make sure that he isn’t lured into a situation that will divide us, and for that I need him to think that I’m still angry at him. I have a plan, and I need your help.” Nicole’s eyes grew wide and her mouth opened as if to say something, but she remained mute. Clearly, her first reaction was surprise and probably a little bit of shock that her own mother would consider something apparently a bit sinister. Then her face changed. Patricia didn’t need to be a psychologist to see that Nicky was excited. As she expected, the idea of conspiring against Robert was clearly thrilling to Nicky. Her daughter’s next words confirmed this. “So what are we going to do? When are we going to start?” Patricia giggled a bit at Nicky’s obvious enthusiasm, which caused Nicky to giggle and soon mother and daughter were laughing together. Patricia composed herself, moved closer to Nicky, and took her by the hands. “You have to understand that what I’m about to tell you, what we’re going to do, has to be absolutely confidential. You can’t tell anyone, not even Sarah,” she said, referring to Nicky’s best friend since kindergarten. “I could not only lose Robert, but lose my license.” Nicky nodded solemnly. She sat attentively, waiting for Patricia to continue. Patricia hesitated, suddenly unsure of how to start. She decided to build to it slowly. “I trust Robert; I think his heart is true in his affection for and loyalty to me. I don’t really believe he would betray me willingly. It’s just that he’s, well, he’s, shall we say, a bit naïve when it comes to certain things.” Patricia didn’t miss Nicky’s fleeting smile. Her own daughter was more aware of the trappings of the sexual world than her boyfriend, who was a decade older, and Nicky knew it. “So it’s not enough to get his assurances that it won’t happen again, and I can’t always be around to protect him from the predators like Joyce. I can’t exactly sprinkle a magic powder on him to make him more aware. The whole episode from yesterday has convinced me that the only way I can feel safe is to make Robert unappealing to other women.” Nicky’s face first flushed with puzzlement as she tried to work out where her mom was going, then cleared as she nodded. “I guess that makes sense. But what could you do? You can’t exactly splash acid on his face or anything.” “No, I wasn’t talking about his physical appearance. I was thinking something completely different.” Nicky looked confused again as Patricia tried to think of a way to approach the subject in a way that she would understand. Then an idea hit her. “Do you remember last summer when you babysat the Jordans’ daughter? How cute you thought she was when you first picked her up?” Nicky’s eyes rolled up at the memory. “She was cute. A little dolly. But I don’t understand…” Nicky stopped in mid-sentence as she suddenly saw where her mom was going. Her mouth dropped open and she looked at Patricia with a combination of surprise and amazement. “You can’t be serious.” “It was the first time you had sat for a child that young. I remember you took a picture of her on your phone and sent it to me with a message talking about how adorable she was, how perfect her little fingers and toes and nose were. You were gushing so much I was worried that you would run out afterward ready to have one of your own.” Nicky snickered. “Yes, and then she fouled her diaper and she wasn’t so cute anymore. She was wet and stinky and it was disgusting. I think I was crying when I called you.” “Yes, and if you remember I had to come over to change the diaper. That was the last time you babysat for her. You thought she was the prettiest thing you had ever seen, but that all changed in a moment. The baby’s appearance didn’t change, just your perception of her. You went from wanting to keep her for yourself to never wanting to be near her again. “I remember. I get it now. But it’s not like you can get Robert to wear diapers,” Nicky said jokingly. Patricia blushed as her lips curled into a devilish smile. She nodded and Nicky stared at her in admiration and excitement. “But how? You need to tell me everything and you need to tell me now!” And for the next thirty minutes, Patricia did just that. IV. Before leaving Nicole’s room, Patricia had to caution her daughter again about the importance of keeping everything they had discussed to herself. The girl was so excited about their plans that she was literally bouncing on the bed. For her, it was Christmas in July. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Patricia breathed a sigh of relief. One hurdle cleared without a problem. The next one, though, was much more critical. Even though Robert was not as perceptive as Nicky, one false move would still make him suspicious and that would ruin everything. There was no turning back at this point, though, so Patricia steeled herself and strode toward the den. Patricia could feel Robert tense up as she entered the room. The fact that he was nervous in her presence, perhaps even a bit scared, was a positive thing. She needed him to be willing to do whatever it would take to repair their relations, and it helped if he still thought that she was angry with him. He would have to put his fate in her hands of his own accord. “Robert, we need to talk.” Patricia hoped that he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her voice, or that he would assume it was a result of her continuing irritation with him. He turned to face her, and at that moment Patricia knew she was going to succeed. He was pale, trembling and had the look of a prisoner being led to his execution. Putty in her hands. “Patricia, I’m sorry. Really I am. I didn’t realize—“ “Stop right there, Robert.” Patricia cut him off deliberately. She didn’t want to give him the chance to launch into whatever speech of contrition he had been rehearsing all day. She had to assume control of the course of the conversation. “I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday and I know it wasn’t entirely your fault. Joyce took advantage of your good nature. But the fact that you let it go as far as you did, even if it was subconsciously, worries me. I think it may reflect uncertainties that you have about our relationship, that maybe on some level you are looking to see what else is out there. Deep down, your commitment might not be as strong as you think it is. That concerns me.” “But Pat, you don’t—“ “Robert, don’t interrupt. I’m trained to analyze just these kinds of behaviors and no matter what you say, I’m sure I’m right to be worried. If I’m to forgive you for your actions yesterday, if we are to continue as a couple, I need to make sure that you aren’t harboring thoughts of other women. I’ve come up with a way that I can overcome any doubts I have about your level of devotion. Unless you agree, I could never be completely comfortable in my own mind. In that case, you might as well pack your bags and go tonight.” Patricia waited for a reaction. Robert’s posture reminded her of a deflated balloon. The temptation to soften her words was enormous, but she needed to remain cross to effectuate his upcoming training. “Robert, that was your cue to speak. Are you willing to do what I ask in order to keep us together?” Robert was so overcome with emotion at that point, she doubted that he realized she never told him anything about what she was asking him to agree to. “Of course, dear, I would do anything. You have to know that I love you and would never even think about leaving you.” Patricia saw the light bulb go off in his head and he looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Um, what exactly is it that you need me to do?” “First, I think it’s best if we don’t share the same bed for awhile, until all of my doubts have been erased. You can use Nicky’s old bedroom.” No protests so far. Good. “Next, since my biggest concerns involve your subconscious desires, the part of your mind that harbors thoughts that even you don’t realize, I want to probe that area of your brain. I want to see if there’s anything in there that shouldn’t be. In other words, I want to hypnotize you.” Robert’s jaw dropped, and a slight squeak may have emitted from his mouth, but he didn’t say a word. Patricia didn’t want to give him a chance to object, so she kept on going. “It’s the only way I can address my doubts. If your subconscious mind reveals the sort of love and devotion that you claim you have,” here she gave him a stern look, hopefully conveying the impression that she had her doubts about the sincerity of his protestations, “then we’re good and can move on with confidence. If not, well, then…” Patricia let Robert fill in the rest in his mind. “So, starting tonight, every evening before bedtime we will spend some time together answering our questions.” Patricia wanted Robert to think that this was a mutual undertaking. “You will get comfortable and I’ll gently put you into a trance, where your innermost thoughts will reveal themselves to me. I’ll be the one doing all of the work. You will probably come to enjoy these times. I’ve heard they’re very relaxing. “It’s not something that can be done in a single night, or even a week. I won’t know how long it will take to get the answers I need. I have many, many questions.” As she said this, Patricia moved over to where Robert sat dazed in his chair and stood above him menacingly. It had all gone just as she had hoped. He was so overwhelmed with guilt and confusion, that she had run him over before he could form any thoughts of his own. As far as he knew, her anger from the night before had not abated one bit. “Now, you can get back to work. Dinner in thirty minutes.” V. Dinner was uncomfortable, which was exactly how Patricia wanted it to be. She had to keep Robert thinking she was still upset with him, so that the warmth she would show later if the hypnotic triggers worked would reinforce the desired behaviors. Nicky played the role of the sullen teenager perfectly, although more than once Patricia saw her glance at her stepfather with a subtle grin. When he had finished eating, Robert slunk from the table and retreated to the den, closing the door behind him. Patricia had barely got up to clear the table when Nicky burst out excitedly. “Well, how did it go? Is everything okay? Did he agree to let you hypnotize him? When are you going to start?” The questions spilled from her daughter’s mouth faster than Patricia could answer them. She finally sat back down and faced her daughter. “Shhh…not so loud. Yes, he agreed; I didn’t leave him much choice. We are going to start tonight.” Nicky smiled widely. “Do you think it’s going to work right away? I mean, will he wet the bed tonight?” Patricia was a bit taken aback by her daughter’s enthusiasm. Then again, she anticipated the idea of humiliating her Stepdad would appeal to Nicky. “It’s possible—he’s pretty suggestible—but it will probably take several sessions. We’ll just have to wait and see. And no,” Patricia could see the next question form in Nicky’s mind, “you can’t listen in. I need to be able to concentrate without having to worry about your making a noise.” She could tell that Nicky was momentarily disappointed, but it didn’t take long before she regained her excitement. After all, the process itself was not the best part; the result was what would make it fun for her. Patricia’s own vocalization that she would be starting that very night brought on an unexpected case of nerves. She would need a few minutes to gain her composure and build up her confidence, but first she decided to make sure Nicky knew her own role. “Now, you do know how you’re supposed to act around Robert in the normal course of the day, right? I’m going to tell him that you and I had a talk and that you are aware that we are having problems. You’ll need to be distant and cold; he’ll assume that you have taken my side in our difficulty and are upset with his behavior.” As she spoke, Patricia realized that “distant and cold” wasn’t a whole lot different from how Nicky usually interacted with Robert, so she wouldn’t need to put on a performance. “But if he has an accident during his sleep, and you discover it, tell me what you need to do.” If she was exasperated at her mother’s covering the same ground for the hundredth time, Nicole didn’t show it. “I am to be sickingly sympathetic to him, and to be really nice, and to let him know that it could happen to anyone. And to give him a hug and treat him like I care.” Nicky frowned as she spoke. Patricia also frowned; those weren’t quite her words, but the gist of it was accurate enough. “Close enough. Basically, the only time either you or I will show Robert any warmth is when he is wet. Hopefully that will plant the right idea in his subconscious.” Nicky giggled a bit, and Patricia reached over and put her hand over that of her daughter. “Well, wish me luck. I need to get things rolling.” Patricia stood outside the door to the den for a few moments, closed her eyes, and muttered a simple mantra intended to give her a confidence she didn’t feel. After a couple of deep breaths, she entered the room. Robert was startled at her approach and quickly turned to face Patricia as she pulled a chair over close to his. He seemed to sense that she did not want him to say a word, for which she was grateful. “I just had a long talk with Nicole.” She saw the protest rise in Robert’s eyes, and rushed to continue before he could object. “She would have wondered what was going on between us, kids sense these things. Especially with us sleeping in separate bedrooms. “As you might expect, she wasn’t happy. You might find it a bit uncomfortable in her presence for a few days, but she’ll get over it. What you have to be concerned about more is whether I will get over it. As unorthodox as it may seem for me to probe your mind…and believe me I feel as weird about it as you probably do…it really does seem to be the only path to restoring the trust I once had in you. “I’m anxious to get started, so that we can move forward as quickly as possible. I know you’ve been tense all day—I can feel it even now—but to put you into a deep hypnotic state I’ll need you to be entirely relaxed before I even begin. Go to your room, I mean Nicky’s old bedroom, and lay down on the bed. Close your eyes. Try to put all of the day’s events out of your mind as much as possible. There are a few things I need to do to prepare, but I’ll be in shortly. Now go.” Robert left, obeying her instructions without comment or question. Patricia exhaled as he climbed the stairs, unaware that she had been holding her breath. She turned to the computer, signed on to her private account, and began to search websites for the items that she would be needing soon if all went well. After about an hour, as darkness began to fall, she left the den and ascended the stairs, ready to begin Robert’s regression. VI. Patricia was surprised to see Robert lying peacefully on the bed, sleeping. He probably hadn’t slept much the night before, she thought. Before waking him, she pulled a chair up close to the side of the bed and glanced around the room. Nicky had moved out several years before, but it still had all the fittings of a pre-teen’s dream. Pink, frilly bed cover and matching curtains, boy band posters on the walls, and stuffed animals littered here and there. Patricia smiled slightly. Too bad it didn’t still have her crib and changing table. Patricia shook Robert’s shoulder gently, instructing him to remain quiet and to sit up with his back propped up against the pillows. She deliberately kept the lights dim. The hypnotic trance would be easier to induce if he remained a bit sleepy. “Now, Robert, I want you to cooperate with me on this. I know you’re going to want to try to analyze everything I’m saying, and you’ll be tempted to pretend to fall into a trance in order to keep control over your answers, but I would be able to tell. I would not be happy and such behavior would be evidence that you’re hiding something that you don’t want me to know. If you understand, nod your head.” Robert nodded. After all of the planning and plotting, it was finally time to begin. “Now I want you to look past my shoulder and look at the corner of the room, where the ceiling and the walls meet. Focus on that spot; do not let your eyes wander away from that spot. As we go along, if you find that your eyes are getting heavy and it is too much work to keep them open, you may close your eyes, but keep them looking right in the direction of that corner even as your eyelids close. “I want you to imagine yourself sitting on the side of a hill in a field full of flowers. The sun is shining and a light breeze is blowing; the flowers sway gently in the wind. You can just barely smell the sweet scent of the flowers and it pleases you. The sun is warm, and you are very calm and happy in the field. The warmth of the sun, the feeling of the breeze on your cheek, the scent of the flowers, all come together to make this a very pleasant place. You lay back, nestling into the flowers, letting the sun warm your entire body. “You close your eyes, and as you do so a feeling of heaviness begins to descend upon you. It is a pleasant sensation and you allow it to happen. It starts at the top of your head; you realize that your head is very heavy and you could not lift it if you wanted to, but you do not want to. Your eyelids rest closed. They, too, are heavy. It is as if there are weights attached to your eyelids. You try to open your eyes, but they are too heavy. Try, now, Robert, try to gently open your eyes.” In his sleepy state, Robert had closed his eyes almost as soon as Patricia began talking, but dutifully kept them faced toward the corner of the wall. She watched as he his eyelids flickered, but his eyes remained shut. So far, so good. “The heaviness moves down now toward your shoulders, and your chest. Your body and the ground seem to be one. Your arms now weigh hundreds of pounds, maybe more. You cannot lift them. Try, Robert, try to lift your arms.” As with his eyes, Robert made an effort to raise his arms but they stayed at his sides. Patricia continued down his body, until she had him feeling like he was totally unable to move. Next step. “As you lay in the field, the warm sun upon you, an escalator appears before you. This makes perfect sense to you, and you find yourself standing at the top of the escalator. You want to take it down. You want to descend deeper, and deeper into your subconscious. You step on, and the stairs begin to take you downward. With each passing count, from ten to one, you go deeper and deeper into a sleep, but you will still hear my voice. Ten…” Patricia brought Robert slowly down to “one,” then repeated the descent with an elevator. She was certain the Robert had long before passed into a deep trance, but she wanted to make sure. She lifted his arm and was pleased as it fell, offering no resistance. She tested him in a couple of different ways, and was finally convinced that he was ready. At this stage, she paused. While it wasn’t strictly true that you could not hypnotize someone to do something that they didn’t want to do, the suggestion would be much stronger and more effective if the subject thought that it was their idea to perform the suggested task. She would have to proceed cautiously. “Robert, while you are in this trance-like state, I don’t want you to think of me as your girlfriend, or even as someone you know. I am more like a wise spirit who is here to help you with any problems that are bothering you, and to guide you to a solution. If you understand me, I want you to raise your right index finger.” Patricia was pleased to see his finger rise, and it encouraged her to continue. “I can tell that you are under stress, and that something has happened that confuses you. If that is correct, raise your finger. Good. Together we will be working on finding a way to fix this, to find a path to make everything better. Can you do that with me?” Again, the finger. Time to move on, to let him verbalize. “Now, Robert, I want you to tell me in just a few words what is making you so tense.” Robert’s face scrunched in thought and for a moment Patricia wondered if she had pushed him too fast. Then again, all day he worked with words and was probably trying to think of how he could concisely convey his situation. She was relieved when he spoke. “My girlfriend is angry with me.” “Good, Robert, very good. That gives us a place to start. Do you know why she is angry with you? Remember, just a few words.” “She doesn’t trust me.” “Good, very good,” Patricia kept her voice soft yet in command. “Now, Robert, it is very hard for a man to regain a woman’s trust, but I know how to do it. I have a way that has never failed, but it is not an easy thing for most men to do. Most men fail to show a strong enough commitment to the woman to follow my advice because it is hard. Tell me, Robert, do you care enough about this woman to do something that will not be easy for you? Are you committed enough to her to follow my plan no matter how strange or difficult it might seem?” Patricia could have kicked herself. It violated hypnotic principals to ask multiple questions without waiting for an answer. She needn’t have worried. “Yes, yes, I will do anything for her. No matter what it is.” Patricia closed her eyes for a moment and had to pause. Poor Robert was a good and devoted man. Did she really want to put him through this? An image of Joyce flashed through her mind, and that was enough to steel her to go on. “I believe you, Robert. I believe that you will do anything for her. I will help you regain her trust. You would like that, wouldn’t you, Robert? You would do anything for you?” Patricia panicked for a moment when he didn’t respond, then smiled when she noticed his finger pointing skyward. “The first step, Robert, is to change her perception of you, to see you as someone who would never knowingly hurt her. We need her to see you as the picture of innocence, as someone who loves her unconditionally and one who is incapable of intentionally inflicting pain. Can you think of what kind of person that would be?” Robert remained quiet and appeared puzzled, as Patricia expected. She pushed on. “You want her to know that even if you are a little naughty, or do something unpleasant, that it was not done on purpose. There are women who show unlimited love toward such other people even when they seem to misbehave, and they are not angry. Is that what you want, Robert?” No finger this time; Robert’s head was nodding so vigorously that Patricia worried he would wake himself up. “Yes, Robert, that’s what you want and also what you need. Do you know what these women are called, Robert?” A slight head shake. “They are called mothers. Women who have children, little children, love their children more than anything even if the child does a naughty thing, because children don’t know any better. Isn’t that right?” Another nod, but also obvious puzzlement. She needed to connect the dots quickly before he started thinking on his own rather than adopting her suggestions. “That’s right, Robert. We need her to see you as she sees a child, someone who may not always behave but who doesn’t know any better. The first step to regaining her trust is to suggest that you could never do anything to hurt her on purpose. Does that make sense to you, Robert?” Robert nodded again, and a slight smile spread across his face. I’m glad this makes sense to you, Robert, Patricia thought, because to me it is clearly a pile of shit. “Do you trust me to help you with this, Robert?” A firm nod. “Good. Here is what you need to do. You don’t even need to remember that you need to do this. I am addressing your subconscious here. Your subconscious will remember for you, okay? Tonight, and every night from now on, you need to do just one little thing that only children do so that she will see you as innocent and loving, just like a child. Robert, you will start wetting your bed in your sleep. When you are deeply asleep, when your mind is at rest and your subconscious takes over, it will tell you to release your bladder and to wet yourself in your sleep. You will not wake up to do this. In fact, the act of urinating will send you into a deeper sleep and you will not awaken until morning. Can you do this for her, Robert?” Robert nodded, although less than enthusiastically. “Good, Robert. Very good. You will see. Just this one child-like act will begin to break down the barriers. It will make her see you differently, and she will begin to love you as she loves a child. She will trust you and she will love you.” Patricia continued for a bit longer, reinforcing the suggestion and stressing the reward, being careful to always associate her love and trust with the actions of a child. Listening to herself she became doubtful that this would work. It all sounded so ridiculous. Still, she knew that subjects under hypnosis were much more suggestible and Robert wanted to make up so badly that maybe he really would do this. Only time would tell. Patricia paused, took a breath, and began to slowly bring Robert out of his trance. As soon as he awoke, she stood up and exited the room. VII. Patricia slept poorly that night. She felt drained from the strain of the hypnotic session with Robert and the interrogation from Nicky that followed. Still, her emotional exhaustion did not translate into actual sleepiness and she could not get her mind to relax. Would Robert really wake up wet? And if he did, what next? Could she go through with her plan or was the whole thing just absurd? Frustrated, she watched the minutes tick by on her bedside clock until sometime after 4:00 a.m. she fell into a restless sleep. Tired as she was, Patricia bolted out of bed at 7:00 a.m. Not surprisingly, she found her normally late-sleeping daughter already up and eating breakfast in the kitchen. No words had to be exchanged. Patricia poured a cup of coffee for herself and sat down across from Nicky, who eventually broke the silence. “How are you going to do this? If I wet the bed, I don’t think I would tell you. You need to go in and check.” Patricia nodded wearily. “I know. Wait until I finish my coffee. He usually doesn’t get up until closer to 8:00 anyway.” Patricia knew she was stalling, afraid of what she might find when she checked up on Robert. She wasn’t even sure what result she was hoping for. If he was dry, doubt would creep in about whether she had the ability to make him lose his continence. If he was wet, she wasn’t sure she had the energy for the next stage. Wearily, she got up and headed upstairs. Nicky began to follow but sat back down after Patricia shook her head. It wasn’t time to bring her into the picture yet. Patricia cursed as she tried to quietly open the door to her daughter’s former room. Damn, she thought, why is it she had never noticed how squeaky the floor was or how the door creaked when she opened it? Peeking in, she was relieved to see Robert slumbering with his front side facing the door. Patricia sniffed the air for any telltale sign of an accident but could detect nothing. She slowly bent down until her face was level with the bed, pulled the sheet covering Robert up with two fingers and looked intently at the bed near his crotch. Nothing. The sheets were dry as a bone she didn’t see the slightest sign of moisture on his pajama bottoms. Disappointment crushed her. It took all of her energy to straighten up and walk slowly back out of the room, closing the door behind her. Nicky did not take the news well. “Do you think you did something wrong? Is there somewhere online you can get help? What are you doing to do now? You’re not going to give up, are you?” Patricia couldn’t help but smile at her daughter’s assumption that the internet was a magical place where you could find the answers to any question, even how to hypnotize your special someone into peeing himself in his sleep. “I told you that it wasn’t very likely to work with only one session. Robert knows that last night was not a one-time thing. I’ll be putting him under every day until we either get results or have to assume that it’s not going to work. In the meantime, we have to continue acting as we have been. I’m the angry girlfriend and you’re my sullen and distant daughter.” Nicole stuck her tongue out at her mom and soon they were both giggling, breaking the tension. Still, Patricia could see the disappointment her daughter felt and she felt a strong maternal urge not to let her down again. A new determination surged through her body and she just knew that she had to make this work. She took Nicky’s hand and looked her straight in the eyes. “This will work. I’ll make it work. I promise.” Nicky immediately looked like a burden had been lifted and Patricia was relieved. She grabbed her briefcase and headed out the door. Damn it, she thought. Now I’ve got to get results. But how? VIII. How, indeed. Every unoccupied moment, and even occasionally during sessions, Patricia focused on her words to Robert the night before. She had been deliberately cautious, but was she too careful? She had tried to make Robert think that wetting as a means of getting sympathy was his idea, but he hadn’t made the connection, so she had had to come right out and say it. Had she been too direct? On the contrary, she thought, she probably hadn’t been direct enough. By the end of the day, she had her plan in place. She simply had to be a little more obvious as to the behavior she expected and hope that his subconscious was willing to accept her suggestions. Robert was already lying on the guest bed when Patricia entered the room later that night. Compliant as always, she thought, but he had probably also enjoyed the restful feeling of being in a trance. Someone had once told her that an hour under hypnosis was the equivalent of getting a full night’s sleep. He wasn’t sleeping, but again it didn’t take much effort to get him deep into a hypnotic state. Patricia covered some of the same ground as the first session, allowing Robert to express his frustration at the rift in his relationship. She pushed a bit more this time on getting him to admit that he would do anything to fix it. By the time she was ready to move into the suggestion part of their time, he would have jumped off a bridge is she asked him to. “Robert, remember how we talked about your becoming more childlike? How the way back into your girlfriend’s heart is by triggering her maternal instincts? You were going to wet the bed for me, Robert. You were going to act like a small child in order to start the process of reconciliation It’s a small step but an important one. Did you do that for me, Robert? Did you wet the bed?” A deep crease spread across Robert’s brow as he frowned. “No. I’m sorry but I didn’t do it.” Patricia needed to reinforce his awareness of the behavior she was asking of him. “Didn’t do what, Robert? What didn’t you do?” “I didn’t wet the bed.” “That’s disappointing to me, Robert. I thought we were going to work together to repair your relationship with Patricia. All I asked of you was one little thing. All I asked you to do was to wet the bed but you didn’t do it. I thought you wanted my help, Robert. Maybe you don’t want me to help you after all.” Patricia felt mean as Robert’s face reflected his panic. “No! I mean, yes! I want your help. I need your help. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.” Patricia felt a tear form in the corner of her eye. His dependence on others already made him so much like a child. She wanted to hug him, to tell him that everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t be okay, not unless she continued. As cruel as this might seem, this really was for his own good. “I’m still here, Robert,” she said softly. “Let’s work this out together. I gave you one simple task. Do you know why you didn’t follow my advice?” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. You have to believe me.” “I do believe you, Robert. I’m willing to keep trying, if you are. Are you willing to keep trying, Robert?” He nodded his head as a barely-audible “yes” escaped his lips. “All right, Robert. Let’s try to go about this a different way. Let’s go back to your childhood, to feel like you are a child again. As I count backward, the years will be slipping away and you will become younger. Are you ready to begin?” A nod. “All right, Robert. You are beginning your journey back to when you were a child. All of your adult behaviors are fading into the background until we need them again. You are no longer thirty years old. You are now twenty-five, now twenty. Feel as the years fall away. You feel younger, more energetic. You like becoming younger. It is a good feeling to lose your adulthood. Patricia took it slowly, year by year, gauging her boyfriend’s reaction as she stripped him of one adult trait after another. “Robert, you are now barely in your teens, just out of puberty. Your body is awkward, it doesn’t always do what you want it to do. You have acne. It is embarrassing. You wake up in the morning and your underpants are crusty from the accidents growing boys have while they sleep. Do you want to stay at this age, Robert?” She smiled at the vigorous shaking of his head. Puberty is a bitch for all of us, she thought. Who would want to do that twice? “Then let’s go farther back. The years keep falling away. You are now ten, no, now you are nine. You no longer have a man’s body. Your penis is small, and soft. There is no body hair around it, and you don’t need to shave. Your voice is higher, like a girl’s voice. Life is so much simpler now. You like being a boy, don’t you Robert? “Let’s continue backward. You are now six, now five. It feels so good to be young again. Four, now three. One more year, Robert. Let’s go back to when you were two years old. You are a toddler again. Your body is rounder, and you are still learning new skills. Walking is new to you. When you talk, you use only a few simple words. You rely on your mommy to dress you and to feed you. She is a loving mommy and takes care of her little Bobby, doesn’t she?” Patricia was surprised as she gazed into Robert’s face. It actually looked younger. A peacefulness enveloped him. He was actually accepting his role as a toddler. But he had been in a trance for a long time now, and she knew its effectiveness would soon be reduced. She had to move forward quickly. “Your mommy loves you even more when you need her the most, doesn’t she Bobby? Let’s remember when you woke up in the morning and something wasn’t right. Do you remember when you woke up in your bed, or your crib, and your pants were soggy and cold and uncomfortable. You were a big boy, but you had an accident and big boys weren’t supposed to have accidents, were they?” Robert looked like he was going to cry. This was supposed to be a created memory, but Patricia wondered if she was reminding him of actual events. She pressed on. “You are worried that Mommy will be mad. That she won’t be happy with her big boy that wets the bed. Aren’t you Bobby? But when Mommy comes in, she’s not angry. She knows that accidents happen, even to big boys. Mommy smiles and says that she loves you, and you know that it’s true. She hugs you, and helps your take off your big boy underpants and cleans you up. She talks to you gently, and holds you close, and she smells so good. She doesn’t punish you. She loves her big boy. Even when he has an accident. Especially when he has an accident.” Robert looked at peace once more. Time to wrap up. Patricia took another ten minutes or so to reinforce the idea that accidents translated into demonstrations of love, then again asked Robert to have an accident so that Patricia could show him her love. She then slowly brought him back to his true age, reminded him that he would remember nothing of what they had discussed while he was under, and woke him up. By the time he opened up his eyes, she was gone. IX. Disappointment reigned again as Robert remained dry that second morning. And the third. Patricia continued their nightly sessions, but her confidence was beginning to waiver. On the fourth morning, though, he was damp. Not soaked, not even what you would call wet, but he had definitely leaked into his underpants. This development brought on a spirited debate at breakfast that morning between Patricia and Nicky, who continued to rise early in anticipation of the big moment. Nicky thought it was time to move to phase two, while Patricia thought they needed more. “I’m sorry, Nicky, but it just wasn’t dramatic enough for me to show him that much concern. We need more.” The fifth morning, they got more. As Patricia stealthily snuck into Robert’s bedroom, she immediately noticed the strong scent of ammonia in the air. She didn’t even need to get close to the bed to assess the damage. The wet sheets were clearly visible from across the room. Quietly, she backed out of the room and closed the door. Her excitement must have been obvious, because she had barely entered the kitchen when Nicky let out a squeal of delight. Patricia had to tell her to hush, but it was an effort to hold their voices down to a whisper as they discussed what to do next. For all of her planning, Patricia really hadn’t thought this step through. Could she trust Robert to confess his accident to her? Should she “accidentally” discover it herself? A quick consult with her daughter found them in agreement: they couldn’t leave anything to chance. Patricia had to go back to Robert’s room. “Now don’t forget, Nicky, as far as Robert is concerned you don’t know anything about his little problem. It’s not time yet to get you involved.” Nicky’s jubilation immediately gave way to a major pout, but Patricia knew that she would get over it shortly. She kissed her daughter on the top of her head. “Wish me luck.” Patricia heard Robert moving about behind the closed door. Good, she thought, this will make it easier. In one swift movement, she flung open the door. “Robert, I---“ Patricia stopped mid-sentence, only partly feigning astonishment at the sight that greeted her. Robert stood by the side of the bed, sodden sheets bundled in his hands, urine dripping from his pajama bottoms onto the floor. His face immediately turned a bright shade of red while his mouth hung open silently. Patricia knew in that moment that he was going to try to hide the evidence of his misfortune, and that she was justified in having decided to intervene. “Robert, what is going on here?” she said sternly as she crossed over to stand in front of her embarrassed boyfriend. “Did you do what I think you did?” “Patricia, I’m so sorry. I… I….” Robert stammered for several seconds, clearly flustered and not knowing what to say. It was time for Patricia to come to the rescue. She reached for the sheets, held one portion to her nose and sniffed, then gently pushed them to the side for a clear view of Robert’s wet pajamas and the small golden puddle at his feet. “Why, yes you did! Honey, you wet the bed! I’m so sorry, dear, have you been feeling all right? Are you sick?” As she spoke, Patricia pulled Robert’s head close to her bosom, stroking it gently before moving her arm around him in a loving, if maternal, fashion. “What am I doing, making you stand here while I carry on. Just dump those wet things on the bed so that I can get them in the wash before I go to work.” As Robert turned to release his pungent load, Patricia knelt down and began to pull his pajama bottoms down. “Now step out, first the right, now the left. Good boy. Now your shirt.” Patricia moved his hands away as he went to unbutton his pajama top and moved in closely, intentionally rubbing her breasts against him as she took her time undoing each button, then almost hugging him as she pulled the sleeves down his arms. She added the pajamas to the pile of sheets. “Oh, look at you, you’re shivering. Come with me, let’s get you cleaned up.” Patricia took the dazed Robert by the hand and led him to the bathroom, where she ran hot water into the sink. Without saying a word, she soaped up a warm, wet washcloth and began to rub it slowly across his groin, taking particular time with his penis. She had to hide a smile as it began to respond, but before he could get too excited she moved around and began to clean his behind, again spending more time than was necessary to clean his skin of pee. She finished up his legs and feet, then wrapped him in a fluffy towel and dried him herself. Glancing at his face from time to time, she could tell that he was enjoying being pampered. “There you go, Robert, all better. I need to hurry and get that load in the washer; I’d appreciate it if you would remember to put it in the dryer when it’s done. Then I need to get to work. If you’re sick, have Nicky go out and get you something to help you out.” Before he could respond, she left him standing naked in the bathroom, no doubt relishing the interaction despite the circumstances that brought it on. With a little more hypnotic prodding, Patricia hoped they would have a repeat performance the next morning. X. They did. While in a trance the night after he had wet the bed, Robert was clearly conflicted. He was terribly humiliated at having acted so childish, but just as obviously cherished the return of the warmer side of the woman he loved. The fact that Patricia never mentioned the incident, and then treated him just as coldly as she had been doing upon her return from work, was not lost on Robert. Patricia didn’t even have to suggest the link between his wetting and the exhibition of her gentler, more loving side. She did, however, make sure that Robert’s subconscious would see the merit of a repeat performance. Patricia didn’t need to create an excuse to check in on Robert the next morning. While he was under the night before, she implanted the suggestion that he would sleep heavily and late, and she was gratified to see that he barely stirred when she entered his room. The smell of urine was again strong and she could see the sheets clinging to his pajamas. Patricia bent over the bed and gently shook Robert by the shoulder. “Robert, honey, wake up. You’ve had another accident.” Robert’s eyes opened slowly, still feeling the grogginess of sleep, but then his nose twitched and his eyes opened wide as the odor and feeling of his nighttime wetting hit him at the same time. He looked up at Patricia with horror in his eyes. She knew it was time to play the role of loving wife. “Don’t worry, Robbie,” she cooed softly, deliberately using a more juvenile form of his name, “these things happen sometimes. Now come along with me and we can get you cleaned up and into some nice clean underpants.” Patricia worried a bit that he would object to her more maternal tone of voice but if Robert noticed he didn’t object. She again took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom. Improvising, she decided to take things a step further than the previous morning. Patricia motioned to her boyfriend to sit on the toilet, pushing him lightly on the shoulders as he began to sit. “Now be a big boy and see if you have any pee pee left that you can tinkle into the potty,” she said, “while I draw you a warm bath.” Robert opened his mouth to say something, but in the end remained silent. Patricia assumed correctly that he was reluctant to do or say anything that might bring on the return of the witch he’d been living with lately. To her surprise and delight, she heard the splashing as Robert peed into the bowl. “Good boy!” she smiled, giving him a hug. “Now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for your day.” She helped Robert step into the tub, which she had only filled with about four inches of water. As she turned to grab a washcloth, Robert finally found his voice. “You don’t need to do this, Patricia. I can wash myself.” His red face clearly betrayed his embarrassment at the whole situation. “Why of course you can, I know that,” she replied warmly. “But what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t help out my man when he needs it?” With that, she began washing him, humming lowly as she did so. It took several minutes before she realized she was humming songs she used to sing to Nicole when she was a baby. When she got to his penis, she again spent more time than necessary, stroking it with the soapy washcloth until it began to grow, then stopping. “Now turn over so that I can get your behind.” Robert hesitated but quickly complied when he noticed Patricia’s expression begin to cloud over. “That’s a good boy. We have to make sure that we get everywhere so that you don’t get a rash.” For a moment, Patricia thought about washing his hair but felt that she had pushed things to their limit for that day. She had Robert stand up and step out of the tub, where she proceeded to dry him for the second straight day. She made sure that she was all smiles and sunshine as she completed her task. “Wait right here,” she instructed him before walking swiftly to his dresser. She re-entered the bathroom carrying a pair of his underwear she had pulled from his drawer. Without saying a word, she examined the crotch carefully, even putting it up to her nose for a quick sniff. “I don’t see any evidence that you’ve been having problems during the day, so that’s good. But Robert,” and here she put her hands on his shoulders, “if this happens again we’re going to have to have a talk about what we can do about it. Do you agree?” Robert was so overwhelmed by the whole scenario, as well as confused as to why an act that should have brought on Patricia’s wrath was instead met with kindness, that he simply nodded. “Good boy,” she said, then she kissed him on the cheek and turned to leave. Robert stood still, dazed, for a full five minutes before he began to get dressed and ready for the day. XI. Patricia could tell that Robert was disappointed that her warm mood from the morning had not carried over to the rest of the day. This time, the progress that had been made in one day made it was much easier for Patricia to feign her continued anger as she was now impatient to move things forward at a fast pace. She was relieved, then, when Robert retreated to his room after dinner and closed the door and she could stop her act as the frosty bitch. As they were drying the last of the dishes, Patricia caught her daughter’s eye and smiled. “We need to talk, Nicky. I think it’s time to bring you into the picture.” If there was any doubt about Nicky’s level of enthusiasm for Project Robert, it vanished in that moment. Nicky practically jumped up and down as she led her mom by the hand to the kitchen table, almost forcing her to sit in one of the chairs. “I’ve been SO waiting for you to say that. First, tell me what’s been happening so far,” she whispered, her voice trembling in excitement. Patricia summed up her sessions with Robert and his eventual bed wetting in short order, smiling as Nicky giggled at the image of her mother’s boyfriend being treated like a toddler. Patricia had barely finished talking when Nicky asked about the next steps and whether there was anything she could do right away. “Whoa, slow down. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Patricia watched as her daughter’s face fell, but then saw her eyes light up as they discussed their plans for the next morning. Funny, Patricia thought, how they were bonding over something as absurd as turning her boyfriend into a virtual infant. Patricia varied little from her routine in Robert’s hypnotic session that night, only reinforcing the concept that a wet bed brought on an affectionate response, and trying to implant the idea that this was a logical way to repair their relationship. It took every effort she had not to push on into new ground, but she knew he wasn’t ready for that yet. The next morning was almost déjà vu, as she woke Robert from his slumber in sodden sheets. This time, though, she made sure she left the door open wide. Just as Robert stood groggily from his bed, his pajamas darkened with his urine, Nicky walked into the room. “Mom, have you seen my---“ she began, stopping in mid-sentence as she froze, staring at the scene before her. “What’s going on here, Mom? Did he do what I think he did?” As she started to move closer to the bed, Patricia jumped in, ever the protective girlfriend. “Nicky, you need to go back downstairs now. Robert and I need a little private time. We’ll come down in a few minutes and have a talk.” Nicky nodded, her mouth still agape, as she backed out the door. Patricia began to worry if she could ever trust that Nicky was telling her the truth about anything after that performance. Patricia turned her attention back to Robert, who hadn’t moved. Moisture had formed at the corner of his eyes as he stood stunned that he had been caught in his shame. Patricia took advantage of the moment, speaking to him in the most maternal tone she had used yet. “Robert, I’m afraid our little secret isn’t so secret anymore. We are going to have to go downstairs and have a discussion with Nicky about your problem. Don’t worry, I will do the talking, but you do have to be with me. First, though, we need to clean you up. Come along, baby, let me give you a bath.” Robert still hadn’t said a word, and followed Patricia into the bathroom without complaint, where they repeated the routine of the previous day. Patricia hummed happily as she bathed him, whispered encouraging words into his ear, and touched him lovingly. At one point their eyes met, and Patricia took Robert’s head between her hands and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. He sighed in response. One thing she did scale back on was her sexual touching. She had had an idea that would be taking that aspect of her plan in a different direction. This time, she led the silent man back out of the bathroom by the hand, pulling his underwear out of the drawer and kneeling down before him. “Step in,” she commanded softly. “That’s a good boy, now the other foot.” Patricia pulled his underpants up to his waist, running her fingers along the inside of the waistband as if to measure the fit. She had him sit on the dry corner of his bed as she put on his socks, then handed him pants to wear while she found a shirt. Once he was dressed, she brushed his hair back with her hands, pretended to help tuck in his shirt, then led him down to the kitchen to the waiting inquest. Nicky was waiting for them, her face etched in concern and curiosity. Patricia led Robert to his customary chair, gently pushed him into it, then sat down herself. She took his hand in hers as she faced her daughter. “Nicole, I’m sorry you had to stumble into that this morning. We’re always open about what goes on in this family, and should have spoken to you about Robert’s problem before you discovered it on your own. As you could see, Robert has been wetting the bed at night. It’s obviously very embarrassing for him, so I hope you forgive us for not telling you before now.” Patricia tensed slightly before Nicky replied, hoping her daughter remembered how to react. She shouldn’t have worried, as Nicky spoke as if she had been up practicing all night. “That’s okay, I understand. If I were peeing myself I wouldn’t want anyone else to know either. Do you know what’s causing it?” “No, not yet. We’re hoping it’s a phase that he’ll grow out of. But until he does, he’ll need you to understand that he can’t help it and promise that you won’t tease him about it.” “Of course, Mom! I wouldn’t be that mean!” As she spoke, Nicky circled the table and put her arms around Robert’s shoulders in an awkward hug. “Don’t worry about it, Robert. I’m sure you will stay dry really soon.” Nicky returned to her seat, then addressed her mother as if Robert weren’t capable of participating in this discussion between adults. “But Mom, there is one problem. That’s my old bedroom, and my old bed, and sometimes when I have friends over we sleep in that room because the bed has a trundle. If Robert’s been wetting it every night, the mattress must stink pretty bad. It’s probably ruined and we need to replace it. But if we do, how can we make sure he doesn’t wet that one too?” True to their plans, Nicky managed to make her argument sound like she was not blaming Robert for anything, but that she had to raise a problem that needed to be addressed. Still, to any stranger listening in, it would sound like Robert was a mere child. The fact that he hadn’t added to the conversation only added to that effect. “You know, that’s a good point, Nicky,” her mother replied, as she squeezed Robert’s hand and looked him lovingly in the eyes. “I have to be at work in a few minutes and have a busy day ahead. Nicky, why don’t you work on finding a solution today and we can discuss what you’ve found when I get home tonight.” Nicky nodded, adding “That sounds good.” She looked at Robert, whose expression reminded her of a puppy that had just piddled on the carpet. “Don’t worry, Robbie, I’ll figure something out.” With that she left the table, and practically flew to her room, her part of the mini-drama done for now. Patricia herself gave a few words of encouragement to her befuddled boyfriend, then quickly grabbed her briefcase and left, unable to stop smiling broadly all the way to the office. Everything had gone just perfectly. Now the next step, a crucial one, was in the hands of her daughter. XII. It took all of her self-control to keep within the speed limit on the way home that evening. She really was busy that day-- she had told Robert the truth-- and didn’t have time to call Nicky to see how she had done. As she pulled into the garage behind her home, she saw that an old and obviously stained mattress had been dragged out to the alley. Patricia practically ran into the house. Nicole met her at the door. “It’s been perfect. I think he’s been too embarrassed to see me today, so he’s hardly come out of his office at all. I have everything ready. But…” Nicky cut her mom off just as she opened her mouth to speak, “you’ll have to wait until after dinner. You’re not supposed to know my solution, so there should at least be a little bit of a surprise.” At that moment, Patricia could have killed her daughter, especially seeing the mischievous twinkle in her eye, but she knew she was right. Wherever Nicky got her acting ability, it didn’t come from her. As painful as it would be, she would have to wait. What she could do, though, was make sure that they ate earlier than usual that night. She rushed upstairs to change her clothes, then began preparing the food. Dinner was quiet, an awkward silence replacing any conversation. Robert pushed the food around on his plate, barely eating, mistaking the mood as a continuation of the women’s hostile attitude to him. Or maybe he was worried that any effort to speak would quickly turn the conversation to his recent troubles keeping the bed dry. He was right to be concerned. Nicky finished eating first, but rather than bolt from the table or get up to start clearing the dishes, she remained seated, waiting for Patricia to finish. It didn’t take long for Patricia to push her chair back and stand up, taking her plate to the sink. Robert seemed to sense an opportunity to bolt back to his study, but was stopped short as soon as he made his move. “Robert, please sit back down,” Patricia said sternly, leaving no room for her cowed boyfriend to object. Robert obeyed, avoiding eye contact as he resumed his place. “We need to finish the conversation we began this morning. Nicole, did you devise a solution?” Nicole’s eyes lit up; it was finally her time to take center stage. Patricia only hoped that she wouldn’t go all diva on her and overplay her role in this delicate stage of the production. “Yes, Mom, I did. The first thing I had to do was get rid of my old mattress. I tried to wash out the stain and the smell but it was no use, it had to go. I hope you don’t mind, but I used your credit card to buy a new one.” Seeing no response from her mother, she continued. “But we can’t afford to replace the mattress every time Robert pees it. I couldn’t think what to do at first, but so I tried to think it through logically. “I realized that I had used that mattress since before I was potty trained, yet it still stayed fresh and usable. What was different? I wet myself in my sleep like Robert or any other toddler. Then it dawned on me. First, I remember what a big production you made when I started staying dry at night. We even had a little ceremony, and what did we do?” Nicky looked expectantly at both Patricia and Robert. Patricia remained stoic and silent, although a slight smile of recognition of where this was headed reached the corners of her mouth. Robert continued to avoid eye contact, his head downcast, his face red. “We played some music and took the rubber sheet off of my bed. So I reversed the process. Instead of a little girl going from bedwetter to a big girl, we have a grown man regressing to a bedwetting little boy. Just the opposite, you see? So I went shopping. When I got back, I went to my old room, that same bed, played some music, and put a waterproof sheet over the mattress.” Here she looked at Robert, who reluctantly raised his head to meet her gaze. “I couldn’t find a rubber one, but they had so many cute patterns of plastic sheets at Babies R Us! Wait until you see it, Robert. It has baby bunnies and kitties.” Patricia couldn’t restrain herself from joining the fun any longer. “Good thinking, Nicky! Robert, please thank her. She came up with the solution all by herself!” As she spoke, Patricia put her hand under Robert’s chin and raised his head so that he would have to face the two women. He did not look pleased. Before he could speak, Nicky continued. “Wait, Mom, I’m not done. While I was putting the plastic sheet over the mattress, something else occurred to me. It wouldn’t be enough to just save the mattress. Every morning there will be wet and smelly sheets to wash too. Since you go off to work right after Robert gets up, it would fall to the only other adult to wash them. Me. So I bought something else too.” Robert looked puzzled. He just doesn’t see it coming, Patricia thought. For somebody so smart, he really was clueless. She turned back to her beaming daughter. “Diapers. Did you know that they come in sizes big enough to fit Robert? Not at Babies R Us, of course, but other stores have them. So I bought some. A lot of them, actually. They are a lot cheaper by the case so I picked up a couple.” Robert’s mouth dropped open as he stared at Nicole, disbelief in his eyes. If only I had a pacifier, Patricia thought to herself, giggling internally. Keeping her straight face on the outside, she continued to praise her daughter. “Why, I never would have thought of that. Good job!” Before Robert could say a word, she jumped forward. “So it’s settled, then. Robert, before you go to bed tonight, and every night until we can be sure that you’ve overcome your problem, we’ll be putting you into a diaper. That starts tonight. It’s getting late now, so why don’t you go get ready for our nightly session and I’ll be up in a bit. We’ll wait until we’re done for diaper time.” Robert slinked off to the bedroom, his feet dragging as if burdened by heavy weights. As soon as they heard the door close, Patricia and Nicole dissolved into a giggle fit like they had never had before, trying desperately to keep the noise to a minimum so as not to carry upstairs. “That was brilliant, Nicky, just brilliant,” Patricia said as she wiped tears from her eyes. “He really is easy to manipulate. All the more reason to protect him from the wiles of other women.” Patricia winked at her daughter then sat back in the chair. She would give Robert a little time to get accustomed to the feel of his plasticized mattress before she would make her way to the room. She had no idea how she’d be able to concentrate enough to put him under tonight. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. XIII. She didn’t have to worry after all. The emotions of the evening appeared to drain all of the energy out of Robert, and he fell into a deep trance with very little effort on Patricia’s part. Once he was under she couldn’t resist, and pulled a corner of the top sheet up. The happy little baby animals that greeted her almost made her lose it, but it was too important to build on what they had going. She needed to maintain control. After the by-now routine discussion of Robert’s wetting and the affectionate response that would follow, which Patricia cut a bit short, she moved in a new direction. “Robert, you seem troubled. Is something the matter?” Robert nodded, then proceeded to tell her about the family meeting without any prompting. He was obviously upset by this new development and expressed his dismay. “Oh, no, Robert, this is a good thing. A very, very good thing. A most positive step. Don’t you see that?” Robert frowned but did not reply. “You see, we have been working on getting Patricia to see you in a much more infantile light. We want her to realize that you could not be to blame for anything that happened with Joyce, because you are really helpless in so many ways. And who can’t be blamed for anything they do, because they don’t know any better? Babies, Robert. Little, tiny babies. They can cry and make messes and act badly in public but no one blames them because they aren’t capable of acting any differently. So if we can get Patricia to see you in the same way she sees little babies, she will stop blaming you for that whole incident. Do you see, Robert? Does that make sense to you?” For the longest time, Robert didn’t move. His eyes were active and his mouth seemed to be forming words as if he were talking to himself. Finally, as Patricia stared helplessly, he nodded his head. Patricia exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath. He bought it. It was a bunch of crap, but in his desperate state, he latched on to this theory in an effort to do whatever it took to get back in her good graces. How sweet, she thought. And how fatal. “Good, Robert. I knew you would figure it out. And what else do babies do, Robert? They wet the bed. Every night, they wet while they sleep and every morning they wake up soaked. So they are put into diapers by those who love them, so that they can pee all night long but be protected. The diapers are a sign of love, Robert. You should be so happy that Patricia is taking this step.” Robert looked a bit confused yet, but was clearly relieved, as if he had solved a puzzle or a burden had been lifted from him. Now that the idea that diapers were a good thing had taken root, Patricia worked with Robert to reinforce the thought, coming at it from different directions but always with the theme that if he wore diapers and continued wetting, Patricia would see him in the same way she viewed innocent infants. When she ran out of ways to approach it, she began to bring Robert out of his trance. When his eyes opened and he regained some awareness of where he was, Robert looked at Patricia in a new way. She gazed back, exhausted from their session, not moving nor speaking. It was Robert that broke the silence. “I’m ready,” he said softly. Patricia had a momentary lapse of memory and couldn’t figure out what he was ready for. Then it hit her like a sledgehammer. Of course! How could she forget? She stood up, trying to mask her enthusiasm, and looked down at Robert. “Why don’t you undress, then lie back down on the bed while I go get your diaper,” she said in the most motherly tone she could master. As she scanned the room looking for the diapers, she saw that Nicky had been very thorough. Baby powder and lotion and a container of wipes on top of his dresser. A large diaper pail in the corner. Patricia wondered if Robert had seen that. The little girl touches from Nicky’s childhood. All that was missing was his bottle and bars on his bed, she thought. Maybe in time… But where were those diapers? She moved to the doorway and called downstairs for Nicky to come up. Immediately, Robert spoke up. “Not Nicky, Patricia! This isn’t something that she should see. This is just between you and me!” “Nonsense, Robert,” she replied calmly and soothingly. “Nicky is a big girl, she’s old enough to babysit. She should learn how to properly put a diaper on so that there are no leaks. And there may be times when I have to work late, or I’m out of town, where Nicky will have to be the one to diaper you. There’s no shame in it, dear.” Robert didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t have a choice as at that moment Nicky breezed into the room. She opened a dresser drawer to reveal two neat stacks of disposable diapers. Taking the top one, she handed it to Patricia. The two women moved like one to the side of the bed, towering over the now totally humiliated man. Patricia couldn’t help but notice that in his embarrassment, Robert’s penis had shrunk to almost nothing. She wondered if her daughter had noticed, and a quick glance clearly showed the smirk on Nicky’s face. “Now, honey, it’s important to get this right, because a diaper doesn’t do any good if you put it on improperly and it leaks. First, you need to position it under his bottom. Robbie, lift up for me. That’s a good boy. Now, I think powder is better than lotion because it helps draw moisture away from his skin.” As she spoke, Patricia shook a generous amount of powder over Robert’s crotch and bottom, creating a small pink cloud in the air above. “Besides, it just has that irresistible smell of baby.” Robert seemed to be trying to pretend he was somewhere else, and blocked out her infantile references. “Now you rub it in gently.” Patricia spent very little time with this step, not wanting to arouse her boyfriend. Fortunately there was no response. “Then just pull it up, tug down one side so that it’s tight, and pull the tape back. Like that.” In seconds, Robert was firmly ensconced in his first diaper as an adult. If only he would suck his thumb, Patricia thought wistfully. “There you go, Robbie, that wasn’t so bad, was it,” she said kindly, smiling. “Doesn’t that feel nice and comfy and safe? And it will be so much better not waking up in a nasty puddle in the morning, won’t it? Come now, Nicole, give him a kiss.” Both women kissed Robert on the forehead, Patricia lingering just a bit and brushing his lips with her own as she pulled back. Robert’s face flushed. As mother and daughter left the room, turning out the light and pulling the door shut, Robert sighed and closed his eyes. What he didn’t realize was that it was only 9:00 at night, the hour when all good babies should be in bed and the adults in the household got time to themselves to discuss grown-up things. XIV. Patricia wasn’t sure if she or her daughter were more excited by the events of the evening. They jabbered quietly and enthusiastically for over an hour, working out the next steps in Robert’s training. It would be difficult to wait a few days before progressing, but it was necessary to make sure that Robert began to routinely wet his diaper during the night and become accustomed to being put into one at night. Even harder, though, at least for Patricia, would be the fact that so much of the next stage would occur while she was at work, leaving it in the hands of Nicole. The next few days dragged on, but the good news was that Robert seemed to react positively to the affection both women showered on him while diapering him and when they found his diaper wet in the morning. Each day his diaper was wetter than the day before, which to Patricia was a sign that Robert was subconsciously falling deeper into a dependency on his infantile protection. She decided to plant the thought in his mind that the wetter he was, the more the women would love him. It seemed to work. They continued to be cold and distant to him during the daytime hours, and when Robert’s temper appeared to be on edge more than before Patricia knew it was time to move forward. That night, after putting Robert into his now-routine trance, she began to deviate from the conversations that they had been having, which focused on the importance of the nighttime wetting. Her first step was to plant an idea in his head and hope that he thought it was his own. “Robert, you’ve been doing so well at wetting yourself every night, and it has been working, hasn’t it? Patricia and Nicole have been very, very nice to you when they diaper you and also when they clean you up in the morning. But I am sensing that something still troubles you. Am I right, Robert?” Robert nodded slightly and began to open his mouth to speak, but Patricia quickly jumped in. “It’s the rest of the day, isn’t it Robert? It’s not enough for them to treat you kindly only in the morning and at night. You need things to go back to the way they were. You need Patricia and Nicole to show their love for you around the clock, don’t you? Of course you do. That’s a very understandable thing to want, Robert.” A small tear formed at the corner of Robert’s eye, a clear indication that this idea was, in fact, on his mind and that Patricia didn’t have to suggest it after all. That would make things easier, and Patricia decided to jump ahead. “That is easily solved, Robert. Would you like to learn how to have both women shower you with affection both day and night? Would that be something you want, Robert?” Robert nodded his head enthusiastically. “I thought so. This will be very simple, Robert. You are a smart man, and I think you have probably already figured out the solution, haven’t you? Of course you have. Good job, Robert! You know that whenever they see you as a helpless infant, they forget all of your adult transgressions. Every time that you wet the bed, they smile, they hug you and they show how much they love you. All you have to do to get that same love during the day is to behave in the same infantile manner you do at night. All you have to do is wet your pants. That would be so easy to do, wouldn’t it, Robert?” Robert’s expression showed that maybe it wasn’t quite the solution he had anticipated or desired. As before, Patricia could see his mind racing as he tried to process what he was being asked to do. On the one hand, he was an adult, but whenever he acted as one he got the cold shoulder. Only when they women saw him as an innocent baby, not accountable for his actions, did he feel any warmth. Wetting his pants didn’t mean he wasn’t an adult, and it didn’t have to be forever. If it meant Patricia, and even Nicole, not being angry with him anymore, what did he have to lose? At least that’s what Patricia hoped was going through his mind. She remained silent, taking the risk that he would come to that conclusion without any further prompting. It may have only been a few minutes, but the time seemed interminable. Finally, maybe a little reluctantly, he nodded. Patricia was overjoyed but had to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “Of course, that was so smart of you to think of that, Robert.” She smiled as she saw Robert’s face relax, appreciating the credit she was giving to him. “All you have to do is wet your pants. Soon, everything will be just wonderful, but you don’t have to hear that from me, do you Robert? You figured it out all by yourself just like a big boy.” Patricia spent a few more minutes reinforcing the idea that wetting his pants may change the women’s perspective of his culpability, but wouldn’t mean that he wasn’t a man. The session had gone on about as long as she liked to extend it, but she couldn’t resist putting one more thought into his head. “Robert, I think you should start moving forward with your plan tomorrow morning. Make a trial run. If Patricia or Nicole react to your wet pants in a loving manner the first time you do it, then do it again in the afternoon. If you get more love, do it again before dinner. Train them to see you as an innocent baby, Robert. Bring out their love that you know is there by wetting your pants over, and over, and over again.” It was then that Patricia heard a slight giggle by the bedroom door. At some point, Nicole had opened it up a crack and was listening in. Patricia quietly but frantically signaled her to leave, then turned her attention to Robert. Slowly she brought him back to the world of the living, and left the room to deal with her daughter. XV. Patricia wanted to be stern about Nicky’s uninvited eavesdropping, but any anger quickly faded due to the absurdity of it all and by the time she met Nicky in the kitchen, they both dissolved in uncontrollable giggles. “You don’t really think that will work, do you Mom?” Nicole asked when she caught her breath. “I mean, think about what you’re asking him to do.” “It wasn’t my idea, Nicky, he thought of it all by himself,” Patricia replied with a wink. “And yes, I think it will work. Any doubts I had about this whole plan went away that first morning he woke up in a wet bed. Now will it happen tomorrow? Who knows? But you had better be prepared just in case. Don’t make plans with your friends for the next few days.” Nicky nodded. For this to work, someone had to be home if and when Robert peed himself during the day, and Patricia couldn’t afford to reschedule all of her patients waiting for that to happen. Patricia looked at her daughter, jealous of her freedom to stay at home. What she wouldn’t give to be present when Robert walked into the room with wet streams of pee running down his jeans. A thought came into her head, which could be the next best thing. She made Nicky promise to discreetly call her and leave the phone on whenever Robert approached her. Patricia could use an ear bud to hear the conversation without raising her patients’ suspicions. To compensate for what she may miss that day, as well as to reinforce the connection between urine and affection, Patricia paid special attention to Robert as she took off his wet diaper the next morning, lavishing him with praise and hugging him at every opportunity. She remained careful not to do anything to arouse his sexual interest, though, due to the part of her plan that she had not so far disclosed even to Nicky. Before she left the bedroom to head off to work, she kissed Robert lightly on the lips and patted his behind. As she waited for her first patient, Patricia placed her Bluetooth bud in her left ear and put her phone on silent, being careful to cover her ear with her hair and to place the phone where it wouldn’t be seen from the couch. As it happened, her first patient was the bed wetting teen who had inspired this whole crazy idea. Despite herself, she became engrossed in his latest self-flagellation and time passed quickly. Her next patient was a no-show, which normally would irritate Patricia but on this day allowed her to reflect on the course of events over the past few weeks. Long gone were her internal debates on the ethics of what she was doing, which should have bothered her but did not. No sooner did she begin to drift into thought, though, than her earpiece came alive and she heard Nicole’s voice. “Oh, I’m sorry, Robert, but you startled me. What’s the matter, why do you look so sad? Is something wro—oh, my. Did you have an accident? I’m sorry, that’s a silly question, of course you did. Don’t cry, it’s okay…there, there, really, everything will be okay.” Here Patricia could hear the scraping of a chair, presumably Nicky standing up to go comfort Robert. She listened impatiently, waiting for someone to say something. Finally Nicky spoke again. “It’s alright, Robert, I know you didn’t mean to do it. Sometimes things happen that we just can’t control, don’t they?” Patricia smiled as she heard one of the phrases they had rehearsed. “Why don’t we go get you cleaned up and back into some nice fresh undies and then I’ll get you a glass of juice and you’ll feel all better.” Patricia wondered if Nicky was laying it on a bit too thick. She heard footsteps as the pair left the room, then realized that Nicky hadn’t taken her phone with her. She wouldn’t be able to hear what happened next. She wished that she had instructed Nicky to call her if anything happened. She waited impatiently for the phone to ring, but it never did. Eventually her next patient arrived and she put herself back into therapist mode while still waiting to hear from Nicky. She didn’t want to call herself because she never called home and didn’t want Robert’s suspicions aroused. The day dragged on. When her last patient of the day was ten minutes late, Patricia didn’t wait around. She tore home. Patricia tried to compose herself as she entered the house, but was careful to appear as normal as possible. She tiptoed past Robert’s closed door and headed straight to Nicky’s room, knocking lightly and then entering without waiting for an answer. Nicky was lying back on her bed, listening to her iPod as she typed on the keyboard to her laptop. Not having heard the knock, she was a bit startled to see her mom in the room but quickly broke into a wide grin as she pulled out her earbuds. “Mom, you won’t believe it. He’s wet himself twice today. At least twice that I know about. He’s been so embarrassed that it’s possible he doesn’t even come to me for help every time. It worked, Mom, it worked!” Patricia sat on the bed next to her daughter, sharing the excitement of the moment. “Well, don’t just leave me hanging. Tell me everything!” Nicky crossed her legs underneath her as she turned to face Patricia. “Did you hear when he came to me the first time? Okay, good. I’m sorry I couldn’t take my phone with me when I went to clean Robert up, but I thought that would raise his suspicions. He actually let me take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom, just like a child! He couldn’t even look me in the eye. It was a bit weird stripping off his pants and underwear—I mean, he tries to act like my father—but it was easier once I began to think of him as a real toddler. I did just what we had talked about. The whole time I told him how it was just an accident, and how I knew he couldn’t help it, and that it didn’t mean that we didn’t love him. I tried to talk in the same tone of voice that mothers use on their little kids. I washed him up, then led him to the bedroom and picked out a clean pair of underwear for him, then held them open while he stepped into them. I pulled them up and slid my fingers around the waistband, then patted him on the bottom. Same thing for a new pair of pants. He even let me button and zip them! I gave him the biggest hug ever, and smiled at him and told him that if he had any more accidents, to let me know. I even said that this would be our little secret. “He didn’t move right away but I think he mumbled ‘thank you’ while I was leaving the room. Then he shut himself up in his office and even skipped lunch. I don’t think he wanted to face me. But a couple hours later, he was back and this time he was really, really soaked. I was even more sympathetic this time, although I might have called him ‘baby’ instead of ‘Robert’ once. Again, I stressed that I knew it was an accident and that there were some things that aren’t our fault and that there’s no sense blaming him for it. This time, though, I said that maybe it would be a good idea if we talked to you about it when you got home. He didn’t say either yes or no to that. I had to clean off his chair—Mom, that was kind of gross. But I smiled the whole time and had him hold my pail and called him my little helper. I’m sorry, but that part of it was so much fun I couldn’t help myself. I think I hugged him more than I’ve done in the last three years. So that’s it. I haven’t seen him since.” Patricia leaned into her daughter and took her by the hands. “You were just perfect. Remind me never to get on your wrong side again.” The both smiled and sat silently for a bit before Patricia stood. “Well, let me go start dinner. I think we’ll have to have another family meeting after we eat.” Both women broke into broad smiles, anticipating more fun at Robert’s expense. XVI. The kitchen smelled wonderful as the chicken dish Patricia threw together simmered on the stovetop. As she was setting the table, she sensed a presence behind her and turned to see Robert standing in the doorway. She was disappointed when she noticed the absence of pee stains running down his legs, and wondered why he had come to dinner before he was called. She waited in vain for him to say something, so she quickly decided to take the initiative. “Robert, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Dinner won’t be ready for a few minutes yet, but that will give us a chance to talk for a bit.” As she spoke, Patricia moved closer to Robert and put her hand on his arm. “Nicky told me that you’ve had a bit of a rough day. It’s okay, I know it’s not your fault. Sometimes acting like a grown-up is too hard. I know that I’ve been hard on you for the past few weeks, but I’m beginning to see that maybe I was expecting behavior from you that you aren’t quite ready for. There’s still a little bit of a child in you in some ways, and I think that’s part of what I find attractive about you. So when a mature woman tries to manipulate you…” here the irony of what she was saying made it hard to keep a straight face… “you just weren’t able to see what was going on. I can’t blame you for your innocence. You just didn’t know any better. Now, is it all right if I check your underpants to see if you stayed dry since your last accident?” By this time, Patricia had her arm wrapped around Robert’s shoulder and her breasts were rubbing against his shoulder. Robert hadn’t said a word yet, and he stood frozen to the spot. If she hadn’t been so close, Patricia might not have seen the subtle nod in response to her question. Sliding down so that her head was level with Robert’s crotch, she unbuckled his jeans, pulled down the zipper and lowered his pants to his knees. A slight thrill passed through her as she saw that the front of his underpants was damp and yellowed. That would make it so much easier for what was to come. “Oh, Robert, you’re wet. That’s okay, I think we caught it before you soaked your pants. We still need to clean you up before dinner, is that okay sugarplum? Nicky!” she called as she caressed the side of his face with her hand.” In seconds, Nicky was by their side. “Could you please stir the chicken for a few minutes while I take care of Robert? It won’t take long.” Nicky’s gaze fell to Robert’s midsection, resulting in a small smile. A quick glance at her mom reminded her of what she should do. “Robert, did you go pee pee in your panties again? I’m glad you did, really. This way our Mommy will see for herself that you are having trouble staying dry and we can all find an answer to the problem together.” Wooden spoon in hand, Nicky took a few steps to Robert’s side and have him a kiss on the cheek. “Now don’t dawdle. Dinner is almost ready.” Patricia wanted to be angry with her daughter for pushing way beyond what they had discussed saying, but Robert didn’t seem to even notice that he was being talked to as if he were three years old, or if he did he accepted it. Ten minutes had gone by and he hadn’t said a word, and even now was silent as Patricia took him by the hand and led him to the bathroom. Once there, though, he broke down in sobs. “I’m sorry, Patricia, I don’t know what has come over me. I’m so, so sorry…for everything.” At that moment, Patricia knew dinner would be late. It was time for the talk that in some ways would open the door to success in her plan, but one which she had in other ways been dreading. She would have to choose her words carefully. She guided Robert to sit on the toilet and then took a seat herself on the edge of the bathtub, taking his hands in hers and looking him straight in the eye. “Robert, I know the last few weeks have been difficult for you. They’ve been hard on me too. I miss how close we were. But what happened between you and Joyce, rightly or wrongly, bothered me immensely. You may not have realized it, but for as long as we’ve been together I’ve been insecure about our relationship. For one thing, you’re much younger than I am. I know, only six years, so maybe it’s irrational, but in the back of my mind I’ve often wondered if you would be happier with someone closer to your own age. Also, men that are so sweet and attentive and, hopefully, devoted are rare. Nothing has come easy to me in my life, Robert, so it has always nagged at me as to why I’ve been so lucky as to find you. I’ve always been waiting for the other shoe to drop. “So for as long as we’ve been together, I’ve been worried about losing you to another woman. When you told me about what happened with Joyce, it seemed like my worst nightmares were coming true. And I had to know what was going on in your mind. I still don’t have all of the answers, and I want our nightly sessions to go on for awhile yet, but I can tell you what I’ve discovered so far. Don’t take this the wrong way, Robert, but in one important way we are so much more than six years apart. I’ve heard boys mature more slowly than girls, and I think you are the textbook example. There is so much about life that you address in much the way a child does. No, don’t look so upset. I think that’s a good thing. It gives you a sort of innocence, a purity of thought, that most adults don’t have. When I analyzed our relationship, I concluded that it’s a fundamental basis for why I love you. You really aren’t equipped to deal with issues that face grown-ups, so how can I blame you if you don’t act in an adult manner? It’s not your fault if you haven’t matured enough yet to know how to put off a sex-starved vixen, now, is it?” Patricia smiled warmly at Robert. “This will sound strange, but it took your wetting the bed to drive that point home to me. In some ways I will always see you as an adult and as my equal, but in other ways you are closer to my child and that’s a good thing. I want to take care of you, to watch over you. When I see you in the morning in your wet, droopy diaper, I feel an overwhelming sense of warmth that only reinforces the adult side of my love. I don’t ever want you to lose your innocence, Robert. Now of course, that doesn’t mean that at some point you won’t grow out of your bed wetting or,” Patricia paused slightly as she squeezed Robert’s crotch, “your pants wetting. But they don’t bother me, Robert. In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Weeks of pent-up emotion seemed to suddenly rise to the surface as Robert’s eyes met Patricia’s, and he broke down in a gusher of tears and sobbing. Soon, Patricia too was crying and they held each other in a lingering hug until they each began to regain control. After a few more minutes, they stood in unison and Patricia began her motherly task of cleaning up her child. Nicky entered at that same moment to see what was keeping them from dinner, and she pitched in. Soon the trio headed out the door to dinner, hand-in-hand-in hand. XVII. For the first time in weeks, there was conversation at dinner. Instinctively, Nicky knew to focus on subjects completely apart from wet beds and pants. She related a story about a friend of hers who got set up on a blind date only to find it was her brother, and soon everyone at the table was laughing. Everyone felt good, but the elephant still hadn’t left the room. As the last of the food was consumed and everyone sat back, sated and happy, Patricia knew she had to bring reality back into the fold. “Nicky, would you please put on water for tea? We need to talk about how to address Robert’s problem.” At first Robert’s face fell, but Patricia’s warm smile and her reaching out to take his hand seemed to give him some comfort. As Nicky poured tea, his face relaxed and Patricia knew that he would have no objection to the solution that had already been decided upon. Patricia spoke first. “Robert, there’s no reason to be embarrassed about what’s been going on with you. These things happen, and Nicole and I are here to offer our support and to help in any way necessary. Isn’t that right, Nicky?” Nicky nodded as she gave Robert a big smile. “The only thing that is bothersome is the fact that your accidents, if they continue, will result in a lot of additional laundry and may mean having to keep cleaning up your chair, or our couch, or whatever else you’re in when you wet yourself. The very nature of accidents means you can’t control when or where they will happen. In fact, it just now occurred to me—what if you wet yourself while we were out to dinner, or shopping? How will we make sure that doesn’t happen?” Everyone knew the solution, but Robert looked so sheepish at that moment that the women knew he wouldn’t be the one to propose it. Nicky spoke up. “Well, we can’t control what we can’t control. Robert doesn’t know when he is going to pee himself, so we can’t ask him to hold it until it’s more convenient to wet his pants.” Patricia almost lost her composure and kicked Nicky under the table. “But what we can control is containing his urine so that it doesn’t go everywhere. Diapers work so well for his bed wetting, I think he should try using them during the day as well.” Patricia managed to look as if the idea hadn’t occurred to her. “Why, that’s an excellent suggestion, Nicky. What do you think, Robert? We could at least give it a try unless you can think of a better solution.” Having planted the idea that she thought Robert’s diapers were cute, added to her efforts during the hypnosis sessions, Patricia was sure that Robert would go along. And he did. He even gave his verbal “okay” along with a nod of the head. Patricia smiled. “Fine, then, that’s settled. Nicky, would you please clear the table and do the dishes? I need to go take care of Robert Nicky’s look of disappointment was tangible, but Patricia knew that if everything worked out, she would get more than enough chances to diaper Robert. Patricia took Robert by the hand, then worked her arm around his waist, pulling their bodies together as they walked to his room. She talked to him softly and with affection as they covered the short distance, telling him how proud she was that he could address his problem so maturely. Once they were inside the bedroom, Robert reached to unbutton his shirt but Patricia stopped him. “Just relax, Robby,” she whispered in his ear, “let Mommy do it.” Slowly, almost seductively, she undid each button, keeping their torsos close. As she slid the shirtsleeves down Robert’s arms, she made sure to brush his chest with her own, lingering just long enough. Her goal was to show affection with just a hint of sensuality, without going far enough that he would become aroused. Once the shirt was disposed of, Patricia took off each of his socks and then removed his pants, moving a little more quickly while being careful not to allow it to become sexual. She pushed him gently to a sitting position on the bed, then sat down herself so that their bodies touched. Turning Robert’s face to hers with her hand, she kissed him lightly on the lips. The look in his eyes was one of a man that would do anything for this woman who must love him so much. “Let’s get your diaper on, then we’ll have our session a little earlier tonight. I think we’re almost to the point where we won’t need to have them as often. Lately your behavior has made me think that maybe you really can be trusted, that your behavior with Joyce was just one of those situations you aren’t big enough to handle.” As she spoke, Patricia made sure she was holding the diaper where it would remain clearly in sight as Robert watched her speak. With luck, her reference to his behavior and wearing diapers would become associated in his subconscious mind. Patricia hummed randomly as she diapered her boyfriend, frequently smiling and making eye contact. When she was done she propped a pillow under his head and proceeded to put him into his trance. When he was ready, Patricia wasted no time. “Robert, you seem to be in a much better mood tonight. Did something happen?” Robert did, in fact, seem to be devoid of any of the usual agitation that he showed in these sessions. He briefly, and somewhat incoherently, brought Patricia up to date on what had happened. If Patricia hadn’t participated, she might not have made sense of what he was describing. She decided to take the lead. “That is such good news, Robert! It appears that your idea to wet your pants during the day has done exactly what you had hoped it would! Patricia associates your infantile behavior with innocence, and is beginning to trust you. Agreeing to wear daytime diapers was brilliant, Robert. That way she has something physical to remind her of your innocence, even when your pants are dry. I think it would help if you left your pants off at home, don’t you? That way every time she looked at you the idea would be reinforced, and her trust would continue to grow.” Patricia hadn’t planned on drawing Robert in that direction, the idea just slipped out. She liked it, though. She liked it a lot. She decided to press on, just a bit. “I’m glad you agree, Robert. Plus that will make it so much easier for the women to see when you need changing. Because if you want them to really see how childish you are, you shouldn’t tell them when you are wet. Mommies and sitters know to check their babies; babies don’t tell them. Nod if you agree, Robert.” Robert hesitated for just a moment, but did nod. Patricia took a deep breath, exhaling quietly. She hadn’t planned on planting this suggestion tonight, but it seemed a natural place to do so. Worth the risk. “Then logically, you can see what else you should do, don’t you Robert. Of course you do, you’re only a baby when it comes to toileting, but you’re a very intelligent man otherwise. So I knew you would figure this out. If you want Patricia to continue seeing you as an innocent man-baby, and you know how cute she thinks you are in your diapers, and you’re not going to even bother telling she or Nicole when you need to go potty, then you know what that means, don’t you Robert?” Clearly, he didn’t as a puzzled frown crossed his face. “Of course, Robert. That’s it exactly. Babies don’t just pee in their diapers, do they? They go poo-poo too. So if you want Patricia and Nicky to really believe that you can be trusted, that you are as innocent as a child, then you need to do everything in your diapers. They will expect that, Robert. Going number two in your didies will be the behavior they expect from a baby. They will love you for it.” It took a long time to get Robert to follow that tortured logic and to agree to it, leaving Patricia exhausted. She looked at the door as she began to bring him out of his trance, relieved not to see Nicky there. Patricia hadn’t told her that she would be taking things this far, nor why. She smiled. Nicky was going to get a somewhat unpleasant surprise if this suggestion took hold. Once Robert was awake, Patricia sat next to him on the bed, gazing into his eyes, patting his diaper and smiling affectionately. They remained like that, every bit a loving couple, for a long time before Patricia kissed Robert on the forehead, turned out the light and tiptoed out of the room. XVIII. Later that evening, while sipping a glass of wine, Patricia began to have second thoughts about keeping Nicky in the dark about the direction she was taking Robert’s training. For one thing, it really would be unfair to surprise her with a dirty diaper if Robert took the suggestion from that night’s session. More so, though, she would need Nicky to perform what she might consider an inappropriate, or even disgusting, act in order to bring Robert to his final stage. But Patricia had given this a lot of thought, and she wanted…no, needed….Robert’s behavior modified, for her own mental health and to strengthen their relationship. Patricia sighed. This would not be an easy talk. Nicky was aware of the circumstances of her conception, at least. When she turned fifteen, Patricia has sat her down and told her everything. It had been an emotional evening, full of tears and accusations, and finally hugs and a sort of catharsis. They were both glad that the big secret Patricia had carried for so many years had finally been brought out in the open. Still, the topic had never been discussed again since that time. Patricia stopped by the kitchen on her way to Nicky’s room to pour her daughter a Coke. Stalling a bit, she thought to herself. Carrying her own wine and Nicky’s drink in her hands, she made her way down the hall. Nicky didn’t seem surprised to see her, and curiously asked how their session had gone. Patricia answered vaguely, then sat on the bed next to her daughter. “Nicky, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you as an accomplice to this whole weird plan of mine, although I think you’ve actually enjoyed it.” Nicky’s broad grin affirmed this assumption. “But what I’m about to ask of you might be going a bit too far. I need you to be honest with me, and if you don’t think you can do this I absolutely will understand and won’t hold it against you. You’ll have to forgive me if I need to talk a bit to lead up to my request.” She had her daughter’s rapt attention. Patricia briefly referenced their conversation from a few years earlier, deliberately avoiding going back into detail. She could see Nicky’s concern growing, and wanted to get to the point. To the fun stuff, at least from her own point of view. “What I didn’t talk to you about before, and what is still hard for me to say, is that the incident leading to my pregnancy has left a few scars. Most notably, and I can’t believe I’m telling my own daughter this, is that it is very hard for me to be intimate with a man. For me, sex is something to be tolerated when necessary but will never be enjoyable and if I could avoid it altogether I would. Don’t get that look of pity in your eyes, young lady. If that’s what I have to trade off to have you in my life, it’s worth it.” By this point, both women were close to tears. Time to lighten the mood. “With Robert, it hasn’t been that big a deal. In fact, you’ve seen him during diaper time. It really isn’t that big at all.” Patricia giggled a bit and, despite her obvious puzzlement over where this was headed and the awkwardness of hearing about this from her own mother, Nicky couldn’t help but join her. “Really, I barely feel him inside of me. And just when I’m wondering when he is going to enter, it’s over. I don’t even have time to dwell on my issues with the sexual act.” Both mother and daughter were starting to lose their discomfort, and Nicky obviously enjoyed being brought into her mother’s inner, and very adult, circle. “But Robert’s diapering had given me an opportunity that I didn’t anticipate when we started down this path. I hope you don’t lose respect for me, Nicky, but it opens a door to allow Robert to meet his sexual needs, although maybe not in a way that he would choose, while taking penetration out of the picture. It’s a way that I can keep him in my life without having to endure the emotional upset of having sex.” Patricia stopped to catch her breath, wondering what could be going through her daughter’s head right now. “Okay, that’s the background. You’ve seen how impressionable Robert is, how open he is to the power of suggestion. How many other men would allow themselves to be talked into pissing themselves? I want to try to take advantage of his vulnerability from another direction, a sort of Pavlovian conditioning. Last night when he was under hypnosis, I suggested that he should do more than just wet his diapers. Yes, Nicole, I want him to start using his diapers for everything.” Nicky must have been aware that her mouth had dropped open, as she self-consciously and quickly shut it. Before she could say a word, Patricia continued. “Yes, that would mean that you would be changing dirty diapers. I understand that it would be an odorous and unpleasant task. I don’t look forward to it either. But it would also mean that we have met our goal. Not many women would consider making advances on a man who wears and wets diapers, but there might be a few that would risk it if they were horny enough. But a man who poops himself, whose skin has been encased in stinky diapers for so long that it emits that unmistakable odor even when clean? Who would do that?” By this point, Nicky was trying unsuccessfully to avoid dissolving into fits of laughter. She was nodding as she rocked back on the bed, obviously enjoying the picture of Robert with a load in his bottom. Patricia smiled, but this still wasn’t where she needed to be. “There’s more, Nicky. I want to condition Robert so that the only time he can get hard, the only time that his body is willing to enjoy any sexual satisfaction, is when he is wearing a wet and dirty diaper. There is no woman alive that would be willing to make love under those conditions. Talk about a mood killer. Plus I think I know women well enough that any sexual feelings they had would quickly morph into a single thought: this poor baby needs a clean diaper. They would stop seeing him as a man and he would forever more be a helpless infant in their minds. “Maybe you see where this is going. The only way this will have a chance of working is if Robert begins to associate wet and dirty diapers with sexual excitement. We need to make sure that every change of a wet diaper is clinical and maternal. But whenever he has a dirty diaper, he needs to achieve orgasm. What I’m asking you to do when I’m not around, and please tell me if I’ve lost my mind, is to stroke him through his stinky diaper until he cums. Then just finish the diaper change as if nothing unusual had happened.” Patricia stared at the floor, unable to look Nicky in the eyes. As much as she had felt uncomfortable when she had debated bringing Nicky into this, actually verbalizing it felt much worse. She decided to backtrack. Still focused on the floorboards, she added “Nicky, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to ask that of you. I needed your help for that to work, because he would have to cum at every messy diaper change and I won’t always be here. But it was selfish of me, and I hope you forgive me.” Patricia finally got the nerve to look up in Nicky’s direction, and she was startled by what met her gaze. Nicky was smiling ear-to-ear, tears from her silent laughter still lingering in the corner of her eyes. “Mom, I think that is absolutely brilliant. Really, really sick, but brilliant. Don’t you know that I love you, and that I would do anything to help you out? Well, maybe not anything. But I would love to do this. He’s not my real dad, you know. And I’ve always felt a little guilty about how I came into this world. If I can help save you from your demons, of course I’ll do it. “But…” and here Nicky moved closer so that their faces were only inches apart… “you owe me. Dirty diapers? Yuk!” No sooner had Nicole finished speaking than the two women fell into each other’s arms in a spontaneous hug. Soon they were happily jabbering about the finer points of bringing on an orgasm through the thick layer of a diaper, including gross ideas about what to use for lubricant if necessary. Patricia was happy to state that Robert was always so quick on the trigger, it probably wouldn’t be necessary. By the time she crawled into her bed at a late hour, Patricia fell into the most relaxed sleep she had had in years. IXX. Part of her hoped that Robert would wake up with a bulging bottom so that she could address the first messy accident herself, but he was merely wet and she disposed of that change with kindness but no overt affection. Of course Patricia realized that all of the talk she and Nicky had had would be useless unless he actually took to the suggestion she had planted. It would be a lot to expect results this quickly. As before, Nicky promised to keep her phone ready to speed dial her mom if the situation warranted. Patricia kept her earpiece in as she listened drowsily to her first two patients of the day. She eventually forgot it was there, and was startled when she heard Nicky’s voice in her ear. However sleepy she had been earlier, she was alert now. “Good morning, Robert. Did you want an early lunch? Coming down for a snack? No? Is there something I can help you with? You need to go to the bathroom? You have a diaper on, Robbie, I don’t mind if you use it. Oh, I see, now I understand. Certainly, let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll take your diaper off so you can go poo-poo. Come on, take my hand. Is something the matter? Robbie, come on before you—oh dear. Go ahead, baby, you might as well finish now. It’s okay, no need for tears. That’s what diapers are for. Babies use them for everything, so you don’t need to be embarrassed. Come here, let me give you a hug.” Patricia was so engrossed with what she was hearing that she almost forgot that one of her patients was on the couch. Fortunately, Samantha Hawkins repeated the same story in the same way every session, week in and week out. Patricia already knew it by heart. She could hear Nicky consoling Robert and letting him know that using the diaper for all bodily functions was natural, even expected, and that she and Patricia would have been surprised, even disappointed, if he hadn’t. Patricia was glad that they had talked the night before and decided on an approach that would seem both supportive and affectionate, subtly reinforcing the idea that pooping his diaper was the right thing to do. Patricia realized that Samantha was coming to the point in her narrative where she wrapped things up and fled the office, so her attention turned briefly to her patient. As Samantha closed the door, Patricia focused back on what was happening at home. She heard footsteps, as they were obviously going to Robert’s room. Nicky had clearly found a way to bring her phone with her without raising Robert’s suspicions. “Lay down on the changing pad now, Robbie, and let me take care of that nasty diaper. Whew! You are smelly, aren’t you? That’s okay, it’s like baby perfume. I don’t mind a bit. Are you wet, too? Let me feel your diaper there.” Patricia closed her eyes. Here is was, the moment she had both been hoping for and dreading. She listened intently as she waited for Nicky to continue. What she heard instead was the rustling of plastic. Soon Nicky was humming a little song, occasionally telling Robert what a good boy he was being for laying so still for his diaper change. It wasn’t long, perhaps less than a minute, before the sound of plastic being manipulated was punctuated by muffled, male grunting. Patricia was on edge waiting to hear Nicky’s next words, which came almost immediately. “Okay, Robbie, let’s open up your Pamper and start getting you all fresh.” Patricia couldn’t believe it. By dropping the code word “Pamper” into the sentence, Nicky was letting her know that Robert had, in fact, ejaculated. True to their plan, Nicky didn’t say a thing that would indicate to Robert that she knew what he had done. The rest of the diaper change was business as usual, except it took a bit longer and Nicky didn’t even try to hold back on the baby talk while she cleaned and re-diapered Robert. As far as Patricia could tell, Robert remained silent, probably worried that Nicky would see the extra discharge in the front of his diaper. Fat chance, she thought, with the little amount he produced. Finally, she heard Nicky give Robert an exaggerated kiss on the cheek and the sound of one set of footsteps, indicating Nicky was leaving. It was only a moment later that Nicky’s voice came back on, louder than before. “Mom, are you still there? Mom, it was so cool. He actually came to me to ask permission to take his diaper off to use the toilet! Like I’m the adult and he’s the child. I thought your suggestion hadn’t worked until he squatted right in front of me, made a potty face, and shit himself while I watched! He turned so red! After that, he really did act like a toddler and let me take total control. And you were right. Just a little squeeze here and there and he started bucking right there on the bed. I pretended not to notice. Did you hear? Mom, it couldn’t have worked out better.” Patricia sighed in relief as Nicky continued. “But, Mom, it was kind of disgusting. The dirty diaper, I mean. But I guess we’ll get used to it. And if I have a baby some day, there’s no way it will be as big a mess as Robert, so I’ll be prepared.” Patricia laughed and praised Nicky but had to get off the phone as her next patient arrived. The rest of the day crawled, but Patricia used her breaks to clear her next week’s schedule. She was going to be home, in person, to make sure that this breakthrough didn’t go to waste. XX. Patricia hadn’t been home five minutes when Robert asked for a talk. He clearly wanted to relate the details of his accident to her before Nicky did. Hesitatingly, he told her what had happened, although the part about Nicky waiting too long to bring him to the bathroom was not in line with what Patricia had overheard on the phone. Rather than challenge him or get angry for his little fib, she let it slide. If he needed an excuse for now, so be it. “Robert, I don’t know why you’re upset. Really, I guess I kind of assumed that as long as you’re wearing diapers full-time, you wouldn’t bother to take them off when you needed to go potty. In fact, I like the idea that you’re comfortable enough in them that you don’t mind using them for everything. And sweetie, it gives me a chance to spend some extra time with you when I change you. Some special time.” Patricia put her hand on Robert’s thigh as she completed her sentence, and looked at him with what she hoped were her sexy eyes. She had never been good at flirting. Robert appeared to consider what she was saying, and nodded slowly but not convincingly. Once again, Patricia decided she needed to take the initiative. “Robert, I know the last few weeks have been difficult for both of us, and while I’m delighted that we are starting to resolve our issue, I think we could use a little more time together. I’ve arranged to take next week off so that we can push through any remaining issues, and I can be here to help you when you need me. Since tomorrow is Saturday, that gives us the next nine days. Would you like that?” Robert’s eyes lit up and he threw himself into Patricia’s arms in a giant hug. As they embraced, Patricia couldn’t help pulling the waistband of his diaper back and sniffing the air. Nothing. “I’m glad you are looking forward to it as much as I am, Robbie. I’ll tell you what. For now, since you’ve had a bit of a rough day, why don’t we do our session early, right now. You know how much they relax you, and it will be a good start into the weekend.” Patricia didn’t expect any opposition, and got none. Robert had been able to drop into a deep trance quickly now, and that left more time for the suggestion part. Patricia used it all to reinforce the thought that diapers should be used for everything and to remind Robert that the more infantile he acted, the more innocent he would appear. As she started to bring him out of his trance, Patricia was sure that she had gotten through to him. If there was any doubt a few seconds later, as she awoke him, it vanished in the odor of a newly-soiled diaper. Both Patricia and Robert were momentarily stunned and neither moved nor spoke. Patricia broke the stalemate by sniffing the air before moving to Robert’s side, pulling him to a stand, and then cupping his rear end. Triumphant inside, she stayed calm on the outside. “It looks like my baby needs his diaper changed. Don’t worry, baby, Mommy will take care of everything.” Patricia spread the changing pad down on the bed, then lowered Robert to a prone position on top of it. She smiled at him as she stripped his socks off, and almost as an afterthought took his shirt off as well. Sitting beside him, she gently rubbed his chest, tweaking his nipples, and kissed him on the stomach. Their eyes met, and there was no doubt that Robert was enjoying the attention. Patricia kept it up for a little longer, noting at some point that Robert had closed his eyes and was concentrating on her touch. She took that as a sign to move down his body, and soon she was playing with his penis through the front of his diaper. With her other hand, she moved the mess sitting against his rear around, trying to strengthen the link between what sat there and what she was doing on the front side. It wasn’t long before Robert began to pant, biting his lip in the sign Patricia recognized as the last step before orgasm. Sure enough, two seconds later his hips rose into the air and he made a guttural noise. Patricia continued rubbing both front and back until he appeared to have finished. She slid closer to his head, planting a wet and passionate kiss directly on his lips. Robert sighed happily. The first part of her job complete, Patricia turned her attention to finishing the diaper change. Despite having changed her daughter thousands of times, she wasn’t prepared for the mess an adult could make. Resisting the urge to gag, she smiled at Robert as she used wipe after wipe to clean his bottom, with more than a little more time devoted to his penis. After what seemed like an eternity, she placed the tightly-wrapped diaper into his pail and quickly spread a fresh diaper underneath him. Traversing the room to the dresser, Patricia grabbed the bottle of sweet-smelling baby lotion and squirted a generous portion into her hands. Beginning with his now-flaccid member and moving to his rear, she massaged the lotion into his skin. For a minute, she thought he might cum a second time. Pulling the sides of the diaper up quickly, she taped him in and again leaned down to kiss him. “I need to get dinner started. It’s late. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” Patricia didn’t look back at her boyfriend as she left the room, but she had never been more confident in an assumption. In the last ninety minutes, he had crossed the line. He was her baby now, and he would be in diapers for as long as she decided to keep him in them. Which in her mind, might be forever. XXI. Patricia spent the next week reinforcing all of the suggestions that she had placed into Robert’s subconscious. At the same time, she began to allow their relationship to return to normal, leaving behind the cold persona she had affected whenever Robert’s pants were dry. It didn’t seem to matter as far as the use of his diapers. In fact, she became convinced that he wasn’t even aware anymore when he was urinating. At the very least, a wet diaper didn’t seem to be cause for alarm. Robert never asked for a change anymore. He allowed the women in his life to check him and never protested if they put a finger inside the front of his diaper or pulled the back out to smell him. It was Nicky who noticed the other important development. While Patricia made it her own job to handle every dirty diaper change, as she was able to make them a little sexier than her daughter, about a week into her time off Robert managed to soil himself while she was at the grocery store. Nicky noticed the telltale odor from the other side of the house and chose wisely not to wait for her mother to get home to change the baby. When she took Robert’s hand to lead him to the bed for a change, she couldn’t help but notice the bulge in the front of his diaper. The very act of pooping himself gave him an erection. The imprinting was a success. To test how successful, later than night Patricia put on her sexiest nightie and snuggled up close to Robert, whispering naughty thoughts into his ear. As far as she could tell, there was no reaction from his groin. A couple of days later, while they were out to eat, a baby at the next table filled the room with the fragrance of her soiled diaper. Thinking it might be Robert, Patricia surreptitiously began to put her hand down Robert’s diaper under the table. He wasn’t messy, but he was hard. Even the smell of another infant’s dirty diaper caused a sexual reaction. Nothing else, not even a nude and willing woman, would. Given his lack of interest in sex, and the fact that Robert was now functionally incontinent, Patricia chose to keep Robert in Nicky’s old bedroom. The infantile odors of powder, oil and, of course, the diaper pail, permeated the room and Patricia had no desire to bring that into her own domain. Robert didn’t seem to mind. Over time, Patricia added a changing table to the room and filled the shelves with his diapering supplies. She hoped one day to add crib rails to the side of his bed, but didn’t want to push too fast. Robert continued to function for the most part as an adult while in public and in respect to his job, but seemed to embrace the life of a toddler at all other times. He seldom wore anything to cover his diaper at home, even when Nicky had friends over, and didn’t seem to consider that wearing and using a diaper at his age was anything unusual. He was happy to have Patricia or Nicky make decisions for him. He remained affectionate and caring in his relationship with Patricia, and she found that she was happier than before to have this combination of man and baby. She no longer had to worry about sexual activity, except for the occasional hand job during a dirty diaper change, although even then Robert frequently seemed to have already ejaculated by the time she changed him. Apparently he would now cum while in the act of shitting himself. All was well; in fact, better than ever. Even the relationship between Robert and Nicky had improved immensely, now that Nicky was the one in charge. Only one task remained, a test of sorts. This was so wrong, Patricia thought to herself. But she knew she needed to go through with it. Patricia let Robert know that she and Nicky were leaving to go shopping for the day, but by arrangement Nicky stayed behind and hid. As soon as she drove out of sight of the house, Patricia called Joyce. “Joyce, this is Patricia from down the block. Would you do me a favor? Robert’s phone doesn’t seem to be on and Nicky is here with me so I can’t call her to get him a message. It’s important. Would you mind very much walking down to our house and letting Robert know that we got delayed and won’t be back home until tonight? You will? Oh, thanks so much.” As Nicky reported to her that evening, Joyce pounced on the opportunity. She must have left her home immediately after hanging up. Not expecting company, Robert answered the door without thinking that he wasn’t wearing anything over his diaper. And Patricia had made sure that she “forgot” to change him before she left. Joyce was greeted by a man standing in a drooping, soaked diaper. Robert realized what was happening when Joyce stared dumbfounded at his crotch. Still, he was unfazed. He invited her in and she was too shocked to refuse. Nicky said that Robert asked if she would like some coffee but by that time Joyce had recovered and started mumbling an excuse about having to get back, forgetting even to pass on Patricia’s message. As she turned to go, however, Robert asked her a favor. Patricia had left without changing him, would Joyce mind? His diaper was getting cold and uncomfortable. Nicky almost blew her cover as she snorted while trying not to laugh. Incredibly, Joyce consented to change him, probably to see if this was for real. She left soon after, and it was clear that any fire she held for Robert had been extinguished. More importantly, Robert himself had shown that he was willing to let other women care for him, which opened up the possibility of using babysitters. Just in case. Even better, he apparently now saw all women as caregivers rather than sexual beings. Patricia returned soon after, giving Robert a big hug. She insisted that the family go out for a celebratory dinner. Robert’s inquiry about what they were celebrating was met only with a fit of giggles from the two women, so he let it slide. As they trio left the house, Robert in the lead, Patricia and Nicky gave each other a high-five. Mission accomplished.

I have copies of all five. I was just curious about which ones were still available on DD and which needed to be reposted. If I read your email correctly, three of them are still here and two need to be reposted, correct?

At one time or another I’ve posted five such stories on DD: The Potty Training Buddy Tricked into Diapers Corner Time The Shrink The Lingerie Sale Not sure if any of them survived the great purge. I did repost The Potty Training Buddy but if any of the others are lost and there’s interest, I’d be happy to repost.

Wasn't trying to insert myself in there....just having some fun.

Wait...I live in Chicago and wasn’t asked to be a part of this panel? I feel like the child who was never picked in gym class. The comment on my nursery school report card that I don’t play well with others obviously continues to haunt me to this very day....? tammie Author of “The Potty Training Buddy,” “The Shrink,” “Tricked into Diapers,” and more

The Potty Training Buddy By tammie2 I. “Ohhh, Tom, dear, may I ask you a little favor?” Tom looked up from his reading, both surprised and suspicious. Relations between himself and Rita, his wife of almost five years, had been a bit cold lately. Part of it was their ongoing debate, an argument really, about whether to have children. Tom wanted to wait, Rita was hearing her biological clock tick. So far he had prevailed,but he could tell she wasn’t happy and didn’t consider the question resolved. Not that it mattered much lately, though, as they hadn’t had sex in a month. Rita, he knew, was also upset with him for choosing not to work over the summer. For his first several years as a teacher Tom taught summer school and even picked up a drivers’ education class when it was available. This year, though, he was feeling burned out and couldn’t bear the thought of spending beautiful summer days in a hot classroom with disinterested students and too many nights and weekends grading papers and tests. When it came time to sign up for the summer session, he took a pass. He told Rita he would use the time to work around the house or even learn how to cook, but so far in the first two weeks he had been sleeping late and watching too much television. His leisure time did not sit well with his wife. Rita had worked hard to establish herself at one of the city’s smaller but better law firms and devoted herself to perfecting her skills. Even after her father had died and left a substantial sum of money to be divided between she and her sister Nora, enough for them to live on if they didn’t spend to excess, she never considered retiring. It wasn’t in her nature to relax and Tom knew without asking that he had better not raise the possibility of leaving his teaching position. She had expressed her displeasure, loudly and often, when he told her of his decision to take the summer off. His failure to follow through on his promise to put his time to good use had not improved matters. So when Rita approached Tom to ask him a favor, all sugar and spice, warning signals went off in his brain. Warily, he put his magazine down and looked up at his wife. Despite his suspicions, though, he hadn’t seen her smile at him in weeks so he hoped this would be an opportunity to break through the icy atmosphere between them. “It’s not for me, actually, but for Nora.” Tom groaned inwardly, as he and his sister-in-law had never gotten along. She made no secret of the fact that she thought her little sis could have done better in the mate department. “But if you help her out, I won’t forget it.” As Rita said this, she subtly brushed against Tom’s groin and his dormant member twitched expectedly. Should he bury his suspicions and take the leap? Tom quickly considered his options. He was tired of the stress and tension permeating his home life and he was getting bored with masturbating to online porn. Rita knew her way around a man’s body and Tom missed the sweaty bedroom sessions with her that used to happen several times a week. And as cold as she had been lately, he suspected that not at least listening to the favor request would bring on arctic temperatures he could only imagine. He involuntarily gave a small shudder. “Well, I might be able to fit it into my busy schedule,” he replied with a small smile, hoping that a little humor would help. “What does she need?” “Oh, thanks, thanks, thanks, my wonderful hubby!” Rita exclaimed with enthusiasm, as she hopped up onto Tom’s lap, her legs wrapping his. She took Tom’s head in her hands, leaned forward and planted a long, deep kiss on her unprepared husband. “I knew you would do it!” The unexpected moment of passion threw Tom off balance and it didn’t occur to him that he had never actually said he would do it. Instead, he simply asked again, “What is it?” “Well, you know that she has been trying to potty train Sean.” Sean was Nora’s son, who was closing in on three years old and in Tom’s mind was a stubborn little terror. Like mother, like son, he thought. Nora was a single mom and was once the Vice President of something-or-other at a large company. Once she inherited the family money, she quit that job (with quite the golden parachute, he had heard) and started up a consulting business she could run from home while still watching over her son. From the start, it had been extremely successful. “It hasn’t been easy. Just when she thinks he has the knack of it, he regresses. Nora thinks that part of the problem might be that she doesn’t have a male in the house. That’s where you come in. I’m not quite sure how she wants you to help, but she thought if you could stay over there for two or three days Sean would finally get the point of using the toilet.” Tom was ready to feign enthusiasm until he heard the part of actually staying with his sister-in-law, and he tensed up. Sitting on his lap, he knew Rita could feel it and he thought he saw a flash of anger in her eyes. Be a man, he told himself. How bad could it be? And even if it was horrible, the alternative of an angry wife might be even worse. Rita leaned over further, her warm breasts close to his face, her crotch slowly and rhythmically grinding against his own, as she breathlessly whispered into his ear, “and one good deed will certainly be remembered in this house, if you know what I mean.” If there was any doubt that Tom would go along, it vanished in that instant. Words would not come out as he focused on the shivers overtaking his body, and all he could manage was a small nod. “That makes me so happy,” Rita smiled as she got off of her frustrated husband. Reaching down, she patted Tom’s groin and said “remember that thought. For now, let me go tell Nora that we’ll see her in the morning.” II. Tom laid back sleepily in the passenger seat of the car as Rita drove them to her sister’s home. It was early, and his body had already adapted to the habit of sleeping late. Besides being drowsy, he was uncomfortable from the ache of his overly-filled bladder, which was demanding release. Nora had requested that he not urinate when he got up so that he could be ready to pee when the lessons began, which he had to concede made some sense. Still, he wished that he had let at least a little go before they left. It didn’t help that Rita had made him drink two large glasses of juice with breakfast. He suddenly realized that Rita had been speaking to him and he turned to look at her. Her gratitude toward him had carried over to the morning and he wanted to keep the momentum going. She probably knew that he was only cooperating because of her promise of sex, but to her credit she didn’t say so. She was almost effusive in her praise of him, but now that he was committed he really didn’t care. He did wonder, though, how anyone could be so energetic at this time of the morning. “I know it’s early but Nora wanted some time to explain her plans to you before Sean wakes up. And it’s only for two or three days, at the most. I realize that the two of you haven’t always gotten along all that well…,” Tom had to resist rolling his eyes at this understatement, “but this will go a long way toward changing her attitude about you. And even if she doesn’t fully appreciate what you’re doing, I certainly do.” Tom was startled at the sudden sincerity in Rita’s voice. He was touched as he saw tears forming in the corner of her eyes and felt immediate guilt at his negative attitude. Despite their recent differences, he still loved his wife deeply and would do anything for her. Even help potty train his nephew. He swore inwardly to remain positive. “Now, dear, one more thing before we go in. Please listen to Nora and do whatever she asks of you. She’s got far more experience with children that we do and knows what it will take to get through to Sean. We can only imagine her frustration that she can’t get her son to use the toilet. So at least for the next couple of days, she’s the boss, okay?” Tom nodded, leaning over to give Rita a soft kiss on the lips. “For you, of course. Anything.” He was gratified to see the happiness in Rita’s face. He would swallow his pride, suppress his dislike of her sister and get the job done. For Rita. With that matter settled, Tom grabbed his overnight bag and left the car, waving to his wife as she drove off to work. He trudged up the sidewalk and rang the bell. III. The door opened almost immediately, revealing a tall, striking brunette. Nora was similar to her sister in many ways, including her lean, athletic body and her bright, piercing eyes. Tom hated to admit that she was sexy given his feelings toward her. Still, he felt himself staring at her with a sort of suppressed longing. Damn it, he thought, I must really be desperate for sex to even consider this witch in that way. He was jolted from his reverie when Rita broke the silence with a fierce whisper. “You’re late.” Tom bit his lip to prevent himself from saying something he would regret later. “Come on, we have to get you ready before Sean wakes up.” Tom followed Nora up the stairs and into the master bathroom, following her instructions to tread quietly so as not to wake up her son. Once they were in the bathroom with the door closed, however, he used the opportunity to address the woman with whom he would have to live for the next day or two. “What do you mean, ‘get ready’?,” he asked. “I thought all I was going to do was show the kid how to stand up in front of the toilet and pee like a man. You know, lend a male perspective to the whole potty thing.” “Wherever did you get that idea?” Nora retorted with a derisive snort. “Sean’s not a dumb kid; he knows how to pee. It’s not rocket science. What is it about men that they think that standing up and pointing their noodle at the toilet bowl is some big accomplishment? If I wanted to demonstrate that to him, I could have had any one of my dates do that. Your role is going to be a bit different.” The confusion on Tom’s face was apparent, and Nora looked at him with exasperation before sighing and going on. “You are going to be his potty training buddy, going through everything that he is going through. Even at his young age, Sean is a very competitive kid. On his own, he is stubborn enough to resist using the toilet. If there’s a contest involved, though, he will commit to winning, even to the point of humiliating his opponent. He won’t want you to beat him at potty training. He will stop wetting his pants if it kills him.” “Are you out of your mind?” Tom was in shock and stared at the crazy woman in disbelief. “For one thing, there’s no way that he will ever believe that I don’t already know how to use the toilet. I might be a bit small for an adult, but there’s no way I can pass as a child.” “You’d be surprised what children accept with a simple explanation. All I’ll need to tell him is that you’re four years old. To a boy who’s not even three yet, anybody older than him he thinks of as a ‘big kid.’ Your height will become irrelevant in his mind. Other factors, though, he wouldn’t dismiss so easily.” Tom was reluctant to ask, but he had no choice. “What other factors?” “What you wear, for one thing. Little boys don’t wear designer jeans and a buttoned shirt. We will have to dress you in something more age-appropriate. Don’t worry, I’ve got a couple of outfits that I special-ordered. But there’s something else we need to do first. There’s no way he would ever accept that a four-year-old has body hair. We have to shave you, everything from the neck down. Now strip.” Tom stood frozen, stunned. His natural reaction was to not only refuse, but to make sure this bossy bitch knew that he wouldn’t give in to her stupid demands even if they were related. But a vision of Rita’s loving face, and her seemingly genuine pride and thankfulness for what he was doing, gave him pause just long enough for him to also realize that he had to focus on the sexual prize at the end of this debacle, no matter how embarrassing. He reached for the buckle of his jeans. Tom put his shoes and socks in the corner of the bathroom, then folded his jeans and shirt before adding them to the pile. He stood, red-faced, in front of his sister-in-law in just his boxers. Nora stood with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. “Good heavens, Tommie, there’s no point in being modest. Do you remember that the whole point of this exercise involves going to the bathroom? That means your pee-pee will be the center of attention and will be getting a lot of exposure to both Sean and myself. Besides, when I said all of your hair had to go, I meant allof your hair.” When Tom was slow to react, Nora bent over and pulled his underwear down to his ankles, telling him sternly to step out. He did so, then upon her direction stood, naked and feeling ridiculous, in the bathtub. Nora filled a small plastic tub with warm water, produced a can of women’s shaving cream, and got to work. Tom tried his best to avert his eyes as Nora quickly took care of what little hair he had on his chest. He almost said something when she had him lift his arms to shave his armpits, as the full impact of what she was doing began to sink in. No one at the gym would notice the difference on his chest, but how many men had no hair under their arms? The same thought pulsed even harder in his brain as she moved down his arms, then began on his legs. He had mistakenly convinced himself that this disaster would be over in a couple of days, but now he had to face the fact that regressing his body to a more childlike state would keep him denude of hair until it could grow back. He would be as smooth as a woman. During the process, Tom attempted to remain stoic and pretend he was somewhere else, but despite his efforts he couldn’t help but notice the perfume Nora had on and he liked its femininity. In addition, Nora had her hands all over him, grabbing and moving his limbs, and she didn’t seem shy about the times her breasts pressed up against him as she took a close look at where she was working. He sighed in relief when she finished his legs, grateful that the process had come to a close. He almost jumped out of the tub, then, when Nora grabbed his penis. “Stand still there, little boy, unless you are ready to become a little girl,” Nora growled. “This isn’t any more pleasant for me than it is for you.” On the contrary, Tom was finding her touch uncomfortably erotic. Under almost any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have found his sister-in-law at all sexually attractive. The combination of her touch, the perfume and the weeks it had been since he had had sexual release, though, began to have an unfortunate effect. Try as he might, Tom could not prevent becoming hard as Nora kept her hand on his penis, moving it side to side as she shaved his groin. “What do you think this is, some sort of brothel? Let me make this clear, Tommie. For the next few days you are a toddler, years from puberty. Any sexual activity, including erections, are forbidden. Do you understand?” Despite Nora’s anger, Tom could not force himself to soften. There’ll be a day, he thought, when I’ll need a pill to get it up. What can he do now when he needs it to go down? “Okay, look, if you’re not going to take care of it yourself, we have to get this thing back to normal size as soon as possible. Sean will be awake soon and we still have to get you dressed. Don’t think I’m enjoying this one bit.” As she spoke, Nora began to stroke Tom vigorously, using the shaving cream as an impromptu lubricant. Tom wanted to tell her to stop, that he would do it himself, but the electric feeling of her handjob easily overcame his shame. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and quickly exploded in an earth-shattering orgasm. When Tom began to come back down, he opened his eyes to find that Nora was gone. He found a washcloth, cleaned himself up a bit, and was just finishing when she re-entered the bathroom carrying a pile of clothes. Nora first looked Tom in the eyes then glanced down at his crotch. “Well, that’s better. When it’s flaccid it’s about the same size as Sean’s. We won’t have any more issues down there, I hope?” Tom shook his head, sure he was blushing from head to toe. He prayed that Nora’s own feelings about what had just happened matched his own, and that she would never to her dying day tell her sister about this little incident. “Now then, it’s time to get dressed. First, though, we have to be clear. For as long as you are here under my roof, you are a child. A young child. You have to rid yourself of all adult behavior. That means you won’t have access to your cell phone and you have to think and act like any other four-year-old. No football games or adult shows, in fact no television at all unless I allow it. Limit your vocabulary—no big words. You will be eating what Sean eats, and if he takes a nap you take a nap. He needs to believe that you and he are equals. Do you understand?” Tom nodded. He should have expected this after their earlier conversation, but hadn’t thought that far ahead. Looking back later, he wondered if this was the last point at which he could have rebelled. Not that it mattered. His inappropriate sexual attraction to Nora made him exceptionally compliant out of fear that she would use it against him if he didn’t play along. Nora looked for signs of dissent, satisfied herself that there were none, then continued. “You will be called ‘Tommie,’ and I am your Aunt Nora or ‘Auntie.’ I don’t want to see any misbehavior out of you. At your new age, you don’t even think twice about not obeying an adult. Is that clear?” Tom nodded again. He started to ask a question that had formed in his mind, but was cut off by Nora before he could get it out. “Good. Now let’s get you dressed and downstairs so that you can be ready to go when Sean gets up.” As she spoke, Nora pulled out a pair of underpants, held them at Tom’s feet and told him to step in. As he protested that he could dress himself, Nora sharply reminded him that he was not old enough to do so and that from now on she would pick what he wore and dress him herself. She pulled the underwear up his legs, adjusted the waist and leg areas and quietly let out a grunt of satisfaction at their fit. Tom immediately noticed how thick they were compared to what he normally wore, and put his hand between his legs to confirm the padding that forced his legs apart in an unnatural way. Looking down, he was startled to see that his underpants had cartoon characters all over them. “Why the surprise, Tommie? I told you that you would be dressing just like Sean. He’s in training pants, so you are in training pants. His have superheroes on them. He will probably think yours are a bit girly.” Tom bit his tongue. He began to wonder how much of this Rita knew but chose not to tell him, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He began to silently chant a mantra…just a couple days, just a couple days. He lifted his arms as Nora pulled a striped t-shirt over his head, then stepped into a pair of pale green overalls. Nora slapped his hand away as he instinctively went to button them, then stood impatiently as she tightened the straps. She pushed his shoulders down until he sat on the toilet, and she completed his outfit by putting a pair of white socks on his feet, folding them down from the top. He was ready. Nora opened the door of the bathroom but as she began to exit, Tom finally found his voice. “Um, Nora..I mean Auntie” he corrected in response to her sharp look, “we never talked about what you want me to do here. I mean, I assume that Sean will see me using the potty, so he won’t want to fall behind me and he’ll use it too. Is that about it?” Nora stared at Tom for a long moment, then a small smile worked its way around her mouth. “No, Tommie,” she said softly, “that’s not it at all. I told you that Sean will see this as a contest to see who can get potty trained first. I expect you to lose.” IV. For a moment, Tom wasn’t sure he had heard Nora correctly. Even after her words sunk in, the reality of what she was telling him to do wouldn’t register. “Surely you can’t be serious,” he finally blurted out. “That would mean that you, I mean that I, I mean…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. “That’s right, Tommie,” Nora said in response to his blubbering, her smile now broad and mocking. “You will have to piss your pants. And not just once; repeatedly. I know how my son’s mind works. If you both use the potty, his competitive nature will push him on at first so that he will keep doing so to try to keep even with you. But like most toddlers, his attention span is limited and he discourages easily, so it wouldn’t be long before he becomes bored or loses hope of winning. There’s a good chance he would give up. When he feels like he’s winning, though, he wants to thoroughly trounce his opponent. He would refuse to wet himself and would become toilet trained quickly just to show you that he can do it but you can’t. The novelty of your failures would also keep him focused. That, and once he sees the consequences of an accident he would try to avoid that at all costs.” Tom was so focused on the fact that he was being told to wet his pants that he almost missed the implication of Nora’s last words. “Wait a minute, what do you mean by ‘consequences’?” “Don’t worry about that now, we have to get moving. I hear Sean moving around downstairs and we need to be there when he comes out of his room. Now, I’ve already explained to him about the contest so he won’t be surprised to see you here and we won’t need to waste any more time. We’ll head straight for the potty for round one. He will go first, and I expect he will be successful. Then you will have your turn, and you will not pee a single drop into that potty, do you understand? Then after I re-dress you, I expect an accident right away. Let’s go.” Tom considered resisting. All he wanted to do was rewind to the night before and find a way to gently tell his wife that her sister was psychotic and that she was asking too much of him to do this “little” favor. With Nora tugging at his arm, though, he didn’t have the time to think the situation through, to weigh the pros and cons of calling a halt to this nonsense. The only image that popped up was that of an incensed Rita calling him on the carpet for ejaculating in front of her sister and banning him from their bed for life. Subdued and defeated, he followed Nora down the stairs. V. Sean was just emerging from the nursery when Nora and Tom met up with him. He was in his cowboy pajamas and Tom noticed the bulge around his nephew’s midsection. Probably training pants, Tom thought to himself, just like the ones I am wearing. Secretly, he hoped that Sean had soaked himself during the night and would let his mom know that he had no intention of being forced to use the toilet. Tom could then go home and forget this ever happened. Nora’s praise for his dry night, though, quickly dashed that hope. “Sean, you remember that I told you that Aunt Rita’s boy Tommie would be staying with us for a few days so that you can try to learn to use the potty together. Say ‘hi’ to your cousin.” Sean gave a shy wave in Tom’s direction, which Tom returned. “We’re going to start the contest to see who can do better right away, and don’t forget that the winner will get a prize.” Tom watched as Sean’s eyes lit up at the mention of the prize. He waited to see if Sean showed any signs that he recognized Tom as his uncle, an adult who had visited him regularly since he was born. There was none. Tom wondered if Nora was right, that despite his size what Sean saw was an overgrown boy dressed in little kid clothing, with bulky training pants similar to his own, a rival in the competition for a prize. If there was any chance that Sean would recognize him for who he really was, and put a stop to this charade, it passed when Sean accepted him as a child. Tom sighed and moved after mother and son to the living room, where a small baby potty sat in the center of the room on top of a rubber sheet. Until this moment, Tom had been in denial about certain aspects of what was about to occur. He had envisioned the group doing their business in the bathroom toilet; while it should have been obvious, he had never even considered that he would be sitting on a potty chair. He viewed the offending object skeptically. The base was white plastic and was topped with a bright green seat and yellow back. A white bowl sat expectantly in the seat, waiting for the results of a successful sitting. Tom almost overlooked the tiny splash guard that had been added to help an inexperienced boy get everything inside. How in the world will I ever be able to use that, he wondered. Then he remembered. It didn’t really matter if he didn’t fit in such a way as to urinate into the bowl. He wouldn’t be using it for that for now. Nora kneeled down next to the potty chair and helped pull Sean’s pajama bottoms down. Tom saw with disappointment that his nephew’s training pants were, as Nora had said, more masculine than his own. Rocket ships and astronauts competed for space and, as Tom had suspected, were all as dry as a bone. Nora pushed the training pants to the floor as Sean sat on the seat. “Now boys, even though you both want to win, I expect you to root each other on and to be happy whenever one of you uses the potty like a big boy. Tommie, sit down here on the other side of the potty chair while Sean takes his turn. Each of you will have 15 minutes to try to go. Good luck, Sean. Tommie said he doesn’t think you can do it, but I know you can.” Tom looked at Nora crossly, but realized that it was all part of her plan to get Sean to try harder. As he sat and watched Sean scrunch up his face in a comical effort to pee, he started to fidget. All of the fluids he drank earlier and the fact that he wasn’t allowed to use the bathroom in the morning were catching up to him. As the minutes passed, he concentrated on not having a genuine accident. What did it matter, though? If he was going to wet himself anyway, relieving the pressure by dribbling just a little bit wouldn’t make any difference. Tom relaxed and allowed the tiniest bit of urine to escape. Just as he did so, the sound of fluids hitting the bottom of the potty chair’s bowl filled the air. Tom was so startled that he lost his concentration and started to pee himself. He quickly glanced down and was relieved to discover that he remained dry on the outside. Nora was clearly delighted at her son’s success. She clapped her hands, made sure that Tom joined in the applause, and then gave Sean a big hug. Sean beamed as Nora pulled up his training pants. It might have been his imagination, but Tom thought the little brat gave him a “see if you can top that” kind of look as he vacated the chair. “Great job, Sean. You are on your way to becoming such a big boy! Okay, Tommie, now it is your turn. Come over to Auntie. Sean, you sit where your cousin was.” Tom stood up and shuffled over to Nora, who slowly unbuckled the straps of his overalls, pulling them down to the floor. As she followed suit with his underpants, Nora stopped before they passed his knees, squeezed the crotch with her fingers, and bent over to sniff the fabric. “It seems like someone already had some problems staying dry.” Although Nora was speaking in an even tone, Tom could see the smirk on her face. “That’s all right, Tommie, I know using the potty is a very hard thing to do. Sean and I will still let you try, though, won’t we Sean?” Tom could tell that Sean sensed a chance to pull out in front of the contest, but reluctantly nodded his head in agreement with his mom. Nora finished pulling Tom’s training pants down, but not before plugging her nose in mock disgust. She gently pushed Tom on the shoulders until he sat on the potty. He instinctively went to adjust himself so that his penis would be aimed into the deflector shield, but Nora beat him to it. Rather than getting aroused when she touched him this time, he felt himself shrink in embarrassment. “I’m setting the timer now, Tommie. Try to concentrate and think about peeing in the potty like a big boy, not in your panties like a little baby.” In fact, Tom had to focus hard on not peeing into the potty. His bladder remained full, the aroma of Sean’s urine, still in the bowl, triggered his already-urgent desire to empty it, and it was difficult to resist nature’s call. How ironic, he thought, that while all appearances indicated he was training to use the toilet, he was trying to teach himself not to. Tom tried to avoid looking at Nora. While she muttered encouragement, her eyes were full of mischievous glee, which angered him. Best not to get upset, though. Keep your eye on the prize. He glanced over at Sean, who made no attempt to support Tom’s efforts. The prize you will get for winning, Tom thought, can’t be nearly as good as what I will get for losing. He momentarily forgot his situation as he daydreamed of sex with his wife. He was brought out of his reverie with the jarring sound of an alarm. “I’m afraid time’s up, Tommie,” he heard Nora say. “That’s okay, not everyone can do it on their first try, can they Sean? Let’s get you dressed and we can try again in a little while.” Tom thought he heard Nora snicker as she pulled up his damp underpants. As she buckled his straps, she leaned over close to his ear and whispered, “Hope you saved some for the main act here, baby. It’s time for you to put on a show.” Nora finished dressing Tom and began to walk toward the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder with an expectant look. Sean toddled behind Nora, his mind on getting some breakfast. Tom took a breath, imagined himself standing in front of a toilet, and let his bladder go. The relief was tremendous. It was only a moment before he heard Nora shriek. Sean turned around and gawked, then giggled as he pointed at Tom. “Mommy, Tommie wet his pants. Tommie wet his pants.” While Sean gleefully pointed out Tom’s accident over and over, Tom glanced down to survey the damage. His pants were positively soaked, from the crotch on down the insides of both of his legs. A growing pool of yellow gathered on the rubber sheet as the stream of urine gradually diminished to drops. Tom’s initial pleasure at relieving the pain in his bladder quickly turned to discomfort at the cooling, smelly fabric clinging to his legs, and the odd pride he had felt in accomplishing his mission vanished as well. Tom looked up, away from the scene of his accident and past his gleeful nephew, at Nora, whose face was blazing with fury as she stormed in Tom’s direction. “Oh my God,” thought Tom, “what have I done?” VI. Any thoughts that Nora might play the role of the sympathetic aunt were quickly erased. “Tommie, how could you? You were just on the potty. Big boys go pee-pee in the potty. Sean used the potty. But you waited until I got you all dressed before you peed. I have to say, young man, that this is not a good start for you. Now don’t move while I get what we need to clean you up. Sean, will you watch your cousin for a minute?” Even though he knew this was all a show for the benefit of his nephew, it still stung Tom’s self-esteem to have a two-and-a-half-year-old watch over him. It didn’t help when Sean said “You wet your pants.” Several biting retorts came to Tom’s mind, but he kept silent. It seemed like forever before Nora returned. “Okay, Sean, first I’m going to need your help, then I want you to stay here so that you can see what happens to little boys who don’t use the potty.” Tom looked quizzically at Nora but her expression did not betray her intentions. I guess I’m about to find out what those “consequences” are that she referred to earlier, he thought. Tom stood still while Nora used a towel to clean up the puddle of urine. Next she carefully removed his overalls and socks, clearly trying to avoid the wet parts as much as possible. Soon Tom was standing naked and exposed in front of his sister-in-law and nephew. “Now I need to clean Tommie up so that he doesn’t get a rash and so that he isn’t so stinky,” Nora said to her son. “Could you be mommy’s big helper and hand me the baby wipes?” Sean seemed eager to help as he stood by his mother’s side, pulling out one wipe after another as Nora needed them. She started at Tom’s feet before moving up his legs. When she got to his crotch, she stopped and darted a sharp glance in Tom’s direction. He knew he would pay dearly if he got the slightest bit stiff. “We especially need to clean the baby’s pee-pee and bottom. See how tiny it is? Isn’t it cute?” As she spoke, Nora held Tom’s penis between her fingers and moved it back and forth while she cleaned his balls and then up and down the shaft. Tom was almost grateful for her insulting patter about his size, as it generated feelings about her that blocked any sexual gratification and kept him soft. Still, he breathed a small sigh of relief when she moved to his backside and then declared herself satisfied. “All right, little one, let’s get you into some protection just in case. Sean, would you please hand me his panties?” Tom’s first reaction was to demand that she call his underwear “pants” instead of “panties,” but then he saw what Sean was holding. It was worse than the first pair. They were still white, but were covered with kittens and puppies, each of which was adorned with ribbons and other frills. Sean seemed like he couldn’t wait to get them out of his grasp, and Tom couldn’t blame him. At least he wouldn’t have to look at them once his pants were on. Then he saw the pants. True, they were still overalls much like the first pair. These, however, were a pastel yellow with pink and blue flowers on the front bib area. The shirt folded neatly next to the overalls may have been white, but Tom wouldn’t have sworn that they weren’t a very pale pink. His socks had ruffles on the top. Tom wasn’t sure if a young boy would recognize the outfit as girly, but from the contemptuous and maybe a little fearful look on Sean’s face, he guessed that Sean never wanted to be in Tom’s position. So this is the consequence Nora foretold. Pretty effective; Sean was obviously motivated not to cross over to look like a little girl. But why, then, was Nora so slow to get him dressed? Tom began to shiver a bit, although the room was not cold. Perhaps a part of him sensed that there was more to come. Nora was seated on the couch with a towel over her lap. She addressed both Tom and Sean. “Boys, I know you are both trying your best to use the potty. Accidents can happen. But when accidents do happen, you have to be punished. Tom, come over here and lie over my lap.” Tom and Sean exchanged glances, and Tom could see the terror in Sean’s eyes. Tom knew what was coming and slowly moved into position. He could tolerate a little spanking if it helped the cause. How bad could it be? He was about to find out. Nora used both hands to lower his training pants below his butt cheeks, took a deep breath, and delivered the first blow. WHACK! Tom nearly jumped to the ceiling. He had expected a spank equivalent to what a boy Sean’s age might receive, and had planned to feign pain for his benefit. But there was no need to pretend. This was something else altogether. It stung. No, it was more than that. It hurt. Tom was in pain after only the first blow. The second wasn’t long in coming, followed by a third, a fourth and more. Before long, Tom was a quivering mess, tears falling from his eyes onto the floor. Nora seemed to know just where to hit to maximize his misery. She stopped after ten, but it seemed like so many more. Tom’s rear was ablaze. “There, there, now. It’s all over for now.” Nora’s voice was softer now, almost kind. “Next time we try to use the potty, though, remember what will happen if you don’t do it. Let’s keep this pair of panties dry, shall we?” As she pulled the training pants back up, Nora whispered under her breath so that only Tom could hear, “But we know better, don’t we?” Nora helped Tom up to finish getting him dressed in the embarrassing outfit. As she was finishing, she looked down at Sean, who was wide-eyed and trembling. “Are you ready for some breakfast, honey?” she asked him. Sean didn’t have to be asked twice. He tore from the room. VII. Nora didn’t immediately follow her son into the kitchen. She put her hand on Tom’s shoulder, leaned into his ear and spoke softly. “My sister will be so proud of her big, masculine husband, wetting his panties and then crying like a little girl when he gets spanked. At least your behavior seems to be having the desired effect on Sean, but this is only the beginning. You need to keep it up to reinforce his desire not to be a pissy little pansy like his cousin Tommie.” Tom’s emotions were already on edge from the events of the last hour and he had reached the breaking point. It was time to stand up to this woman, consequences be damned! Rita obviously never would have asked him to get involved in this farce if she had known exactly what was involved. And when he did agree to help, and went along with Nora’s ridiculous and humiliating plan, she spanks and then insults him! Yes, it was time to bring this charade to a stop, to gather his clothes, and to get out of this madhouse. Nora looked at him quizzically and seemed to sense the thoughts that were racing through his mind. Before he could speak up, she grabbed him a little harder and continued speaking. “I can see you are considering not following through on your promise. That would be a mistake, little boy. For one thing, the only clothes you have here are the outfit you are wearing now and the one you pissed in earlier. The clothes you wore over here are gone for now. And you have no car. Are you ready to wander through the streets like some overgrown toddler in your pretty little overalls and training panties? And you might also consider this.” Nora held her phone up to Tom’s face, revealing a series of pictures of Tom sitting on the potty, standing in his soaking wet overalls, standing naked and hairless in his puddle of urine, and in his current girly outfit. When did she take these, he wondered? I never even saw the camera. Not that that was relevant at this point. He had to get that camera away from her. “These pictures have already been uploaded to my computer. One little push of a key, and they will go to Facebook and all over the internet. I’m sure your friends and the school administration would be fascinated and you could tell them all about your potty problems. Why, maybe one of your pretty students would offer to help toilet train you.” “So, are you going to go through with whatever silly plan you’ve been forming in that small brain of yours, or are you ready for breakfast?” Tom didn’t say a word in response; he didn’t have to. Nora knew from the moment he had walked in the door that morning that she had him trapped. She had outsmarted and outmaneuvered him and he was helpless to resist. Time to cut his losses, look forward to getting home the next day and then forget this ever happened. They went to join Sean in the kitchen. VII. Tom sat across from Sean, who was waiting impatiently at the small square table. Tom realized that he, too, could use some nourishment. He had been so focused on all of the unpleasantries of the morning that he hadn’t noticed his hunger. Nora’s threat to circulate the pictures, which he would never be able to explain away, also reminded him that he had better drink as much as possible. Nora would never believe him if he made any excuse for not being able to urinate at any time of her choosing. He wondered when that might be. Sean was examining Tom with a disturbing depth, probably wondering what to make of this incontinent rival. Tom had to resist sticking his tongue out at the boy. What he really wanted to do, though, was to tell him the truth, that he was doing all of this for his benefit, so that he could take a big step out of infancy and into childhood. Most of all, Tom wanted Sean to know that he really could use the toilet and had been doing so for decades. He wasn’t sure why it mattered to him that this insignificant toddler know that he truly did have bladder control, but it did. Tom and Sean both broke their staring contest when Nora approached the table. “I’ve got two cups of juice for my big boys,” she said, sneaking a sly smile at Tom. “Sean, since you were the only one to use the potty this morning, you get to choose which cup you want.” For the first time, Tom looked at the choices. Both were sippy cups. Did kids still use sippy cups at this age, he wondered? Or was Nora allowing Sean to regress a bit in order to pile just a little bit more of humiliation upon her brother-in-law? Sean barely took an instant before choosing a cup, and Tom could see why. While both cups were white, the cup Sean picked had a dark blue top and a picture of some sort of superhero that Tom didn’t recognize. The other cup’s top was a light lavender and this one was imprinted with fairies. Tom began to ponder whether Nora’s motivation here went well beyond Sean’s toilet habits. She seemed to be going out of her way to make this as embarrassing as possible for him. Wishing he could rewind time and refuse Rita’s request was pointless, of course. All he could do, given the alternative, was to keep his mouth shut and count the hours. As Tom began to sip from his cup, Nora placed a plastic bowl and small toddler spoon in front of him. Tom eyed the bowl’s contents, trying to figure out what it was. It might have been oatmeal, or something similar, but he doubted whatever it was was a regular item on any normal adult’s diet. Sean seemed to eat it with relish, but Tom began to question whether he was really all that hungry. Maybe if he just drank enough to get full. “What’s the matter, Tommie, did you forget how to use a spoon? Don’t worry, that’s what Auntie Nora is here for.” Tom instantly knew what was about to happen and made a quick grab for his spoon, but he was too late. Nora had it firmly in her hand and was already dipping into the foul mixture. She brought the overloaded spoon up to Tom’s mouth and unceremoniously shoveled it in. Tom’s taste buds nearly revolted and he had to suppress a gag just to be able to swallow. Before he could even begin to try to analyze what food products could possibly exist that could combine into such a horrible concoction, the next spoonful was waiting at his mouth. He knew better than resist, and reluctantly opened up. This mouthful was no better. Surely this couldn’t be the same food that Sean was eating, as he was happily scraping the bottom of his bowl to get the last bits. Tom would no sooner manage to get one portion down than the next was being pushed past his lips. Nora was keeping a torrid pace, which at least had the advantage of making the contents of the bowl disappear faster. Before long, a trail of mush ran down Tom’s chin. Nora ignored it until the bowl was empty, then took a napkin and wiped around his mouth. Tom waited for some sort of biting comment, but thankfully none came. He quickly drained his sippy cup, did the same after Nora refilled it, trying desperately to wash the horrid taste away. “All right, boys, why don’t you go play together in the playroom while Mommy cleans up and gets lunch for herself. I’ll come by in a while to check up on you.” Tom followed Sean down the hall and into a room that was already littered with pieces of games, toys and assorted stuffed animals. He followed the boy’s lead and sat down among the chaos, waiting for Sean to take the lead on what they would play. Sean eyed Tom skeptically, his eyes scanning the length and breadth of Tom’s yellow, flowered overalls and then down to his frilly socks. Finally he got up and crossed the room, stooping to pick something up before returning and handing Tom a cloth doll. “You can play with this,” he said abruptly, then turned his back to Tom before sitting again and turning his attention to a pile of plastic soldiers. Tom looked at the doll in disbelief, realizing that his status in Sean’s eyes had been reduced to that of a little girl not worthy of his attention. That had to stop, and stop now. Tom scooted around to sit across from Sean and picked up a few of the soldiers. Sean did his best to pretend that Tom was not there, but as Tom began to place the men into various tactical positions, the toddler’s interest got the best of him. Soon they were staging mock battles and Tom was smart enough to make sure that Sean’s soldiers were the superior army. When they tired of that game, they combined forces to build towers out of blocks, never letting the structure get too tall before one of them knocked it down to the delighted giggles of them both. It had been decades since Tom had enjoyed the simple pleasures of childhood games, and time passed surprisingly quickly. They were intently focused on setting up plastic bowling pins when Nora walked into the room. “I hate to interrupt you, boys, but it’s potty time.” Tom was so involved that he had almost forgotten his predicament. One glance at Nora’s sly smile, though, reminded him that bad times were minutes away. VIII. Sean didn’t seem the least bit irritated at having their play interrupted as he silently got up and walked toward the living room. Tom was much more hesitant, which gave Nora time to speak with him privately. “You did very well at not peeing in the potty last time, and I expect that you will be able to restrain yourself again. Not a drop, do you understand? This time, though, I don’t want you to wet yourself right after I re-dress you. After you fail at Toileting 101, I’m going to put in a video for you and Sean that’s about an hour long. Halfway through, about the time that the red and blue cars collide, I want you to have an accident of your own. You know the consequences if you let me down.” Without waiting for a reply, Nora turned and left the room. Tom felt annoyed that Nora would so tacitly expect him to comply with her demands, but then he knew that he had no choice. Still, it would have been nice if she had shown some appreciation for his cooperation. When Tom entered the living room, Sean was already in the process of pulling his pants down and sitting down on the potty chair. He apparently had started on his own before Nora was there, which brought effusive praise from his mom. Tom had barely settled in on the floor before he heard the distinctive tinkle of urine hitting the bottom of the bowl. Nora immediately began to applaud and a harsh glance in Tom’s direction made sure that he joined in the ovation. Sean appeared nonplussed, as if this was something that he had been doing for years. As he stood to pull up his training pants, he shot a look at Tom that seemed to say, ‘let’s see you top that.’ Nora was right, Tom thought to himself, this kid does love a competition. Tom and Sean exchanged places, although before Tom could mimic his nephew’s independence in undressing himself, Nora was working the buckles of the overalls. Tom stepped out of them carefully and started to reach for the waistband of his training pants, but Nora beat him there as well. He thought he heard her snicker as she pulled them down, revealing his bald groin area, his penis shrunken from the humiliation of the whole affair. “Okay, Tommie, let’s see if we can do better than the last time. You heard Sean use the potty; it’s not that hard, is it Sean? And don’t forget that little boys who use their panties instead of the potty get punished.” How could I forget? Tom thought bitterly. He sat down, allowed Nora to push his penis down into the bowl, then pretended to concentrate fiercely at the job at hand. Nora’s insincere encouragement was matched by Sean’s forced support. Tom knew that Sean wanted him to fail and was tempted to empty his bladder right then just to show the boy that this contest would not be as easy as he thought. He began to daydream about ways to put both mother and child in their place, and was working toward actually standing up to Nora by peeing in the potty when he heard the timer’s alarm sound. Nora sighed, deeply and dramatically. Sean could not contain a squeal of delight. Before he knew what was happening, Nora was pulling Tom up to his feet. “I think we’re all disappointed, Tommy.” Tom glanced at Sean, who didn’t seem disappointed at all. “Using the potty is something that you are going to have to learn if you are going to go to preschool in the Fall. Otherwise you will have to stay home while the big kids get to go. You can try again before lunch, but if you feel like you have to go potty before then you need to tell me. You don’t want to wet your panties again, believe me.” Tom did believe her, and wished he had a choice. He began to wonder what punishment was in store for him but quickly decided it was better not to dwell on such an unpleasant subject. He would find out soon enough. Tom followed Nora into the playroom and sat dutifully in front of the television next to his nephew as she put in a video. He couldn’t help but notice that Sean moved to put some distance between the two of them. The screen lit up as a story about talking automobiles started up. Tom only partly watched, as a feeling of dread built up inside him. IX. The colorful images on the television were just a blur as Tom sat, going over his predicament for the hundredth time. Increasingly, he was getting ready to tell Nora just where she could go and to buck up and face the consequences. Still, those consequences could be pretty severe and could ruin his reputation forever both at work and among his friends. He imagined how he would react if one of his coworkers tried to explain away pictures like those Nora had of Tom. Even the truth was so shaming that he would never look at that person the same way again. And if any of the students were to find out (and they would)? Disaster, and maybe even the loss of his job. In addition, he wasn’t sure if he could find anything to wear in order to leave the house. The key factor that finally turned the tide against rebellion, though, was his love of Rita and how hurt she would be if he let her down on what she assumed was an easy task. Given their rocky relationship lately, she would probably believe whatever lies Nora created over his telling of the truth. Then there was also the promise of sex, which can be a great motivator. He could hold on for one more day no matter how miserable things got. Have to keep my eyes on the prize, he told himself. A giggle from Sean woke Tom from his reverie, and as he glanced up at the movie he barely caught the sight of two cartoon cars with bumpers intertwined. With his new resolve to see this through, Tom didn’t think twice about what he had to do now. But while he was mentally prepared, his body wasn’t so sure. Peeing while sitting cross-legged on the floor was no easy thing. How ironic, he thought, that he was having the same trouble urinating now that he was faking on the potty. After a few minutes of nothing, and a flash of panic if Nora found him dry whenever she returned, Tom found that by lifting his butt off the carpet just a bit he could relax his bladder enough to produce a little pee. Reflex then took over, and what started as a trickle became a healthy stream. Relieved, Tom sat down in a squish. He glanced at Sean, who was too engrossed in the video to know what had happened. Soon, as the wetness began to cool, Tom grew increasingly uncomfortable. His butt was soaking and itchy, and the pant legs of his overalls stuck to his legs. The dampness in his crotch made him sorry that he hadn’t held back just a little bit. Every time he shifted his weight, the puddle he was sitting in would try to force its way up into his crack. Before long the familiar ammonia smell began its assault on his nostrils. No wonder babies cry when they need changing, he thought. He was actually looking forward to Nora coming back in. Any punishment she had in mind would at least include dry britches in the end. The longer he sat, the more he began to wonder. Was he supposed to let Nora know after he had his accident? Or was he supposed to be like Sean, so attentive to the TV that he ignored everything else? At last, he heard Nora’s footsteps in the hallway and his decision on what to do was made for him. “Boys, I just wanted you to know that I’ll be making lunch soon, so as soon as that video is done I want you to go into the bathroom to wash your hands. No whining about wanting to watch just one more, do you understand?” Sean nodded, clearly annoyed at the interruption, then immediately returned his attention to the screen. Tom, not discerning any clues as to what he was to do, did the same. He heard Nora turn to go, but then was surprised when she appeared before them in front of the television, which has been put on pause. “You can get back to the movie in a minute, or at least one of you will be able to.” She sniffed the air in an exaggerated way. “But if my nose is right, and it always is, someone here has done something naughty. Do either one of you want to say something?” Sean was clearly confused and shook his head. Tom all of a sudden was filled with a desire to delay what was to come, so in a pointless gesture he also shook his head. “Then I have no choice but to do an inspection. Stand up, both of you.” Sean and Tom both slowly lifted themselves up to a standing position. Sean had yet to take his fearful eyes off of his mother, but when he saw her move her full attention away from him, he looked over at Tom. His jaw dropped open, then he began to snicker and point. “Mommy, Tommie wet his pants.” “I can see that, Sean. You heard me tell Tommie after he didn’t use the potty that he needed to come get me if he had to go to the bathroom. But he didn’t listen, did he? He decided that he could just pee his panties like a baby. That was one bad thing he did. But then he told a fib, didn’t he? He told Mommy that he didn’t have an accident when he was sitting in a smelly puddle. Because he has been a very bad boy, he will be getting a special punishment.” Nora turned to face Tom. “Tommie, don’t you dare move while I go get some things we need to get you settled. Sean, please watch him and tell me if he does anything naughty.” Tom couldn’t decide if Sean’s expression was one of glee or contempt; it was probably a healthy dose of each. Tom never thought he could have feelings of hatred toward such a small child, but right now all he wanted to do was take two steps closer and wring the boy’s neck. It was a good thing that Nora came back so quickly. She set down a pile containing clean clothes and a towel before approaching Tom with an obvious purpose. Tom again began to feel nervous. “Tommie, Sean, I want you both to listen closely. The difference between a big boy and a little baby is that big boys use the potty. Only babies pee in their pants. Sean, since you have been using the potty, we know that you are a big boy.” Tom could see Sean beam proudly. “Tommie, since you go potty in your panties you must be a little baby. But…” and here Nora looked directly at Sean, “to stay a big boy you have to keep using the potty. If you have an accident, I’ll think you want to be a baby like Tommie.” Tom had to admit that Nora had thought this through. Sean looked horrified at the possibility of sharing his fate, whatever it might be, and Tom was pretty sure he would be motivated to keep up his perfect record in toileting. “So, Tommie, until you can show you that you are not a baby, some of your big boy privileges will be taken away. First of all, you must always keep this in your mouth.” With these words, Nora pushed a pacifier between Tom’s lips. It all happened so quickly that Tom didn’t even get a chance to see it, but he could guess that it was probably the most babyish version she could find. “There will be a few other changes as well, but for now that’s enough. Now we need to clean you up before your spanking.” Tom was never so happy to get undressed in his life. The removal of the wet clothing left him cold and shivering, and he was distressed to see that the chill around his groin caused his penis to nearly retreat into his body. Nora proceeded to wipe him off with sweet-smelling baby wipes, then dry him with a towel. She cautioned Sean to avoid the stained area of the carpet while leading Tom over to a child’s couch. Without being asked, Tom assumed the position over Nora’s knees and prepared himself for the pain. WHAP! Nora must have held back last time because from the first hit, the pain radiated out to a degree he had not experienced before. By the fifth stroke, he was sobbing and by the tenth, he was worried that he would bite through the pacifier. Real tears fell as Nora added five more strokes before telling him to stand up. Tom thought he saw a flash of sympathy in Sean’s eyes, and clearly there was fear there. However bizarre Nora’s method, Tom was certain at that moment that Sean would be dry from there on. Suddenly he felt relief pass through his buttocks as Nora rubbed baby lotion all over his bright red behind. While it still stung, and the scent of the lotion was all too infantile, he was grateful to her. His beneficent feelings quickly dissipated, though, when she held out his new pair of training pants to step into. Pink with flowers. Of course. Nora pulled the panties up snugly around Tom’s waist while Sean, his fear now gone, giggled at the girlish display before him. But Nora was not done. Picking up yet another set of overalls, Tom groaned inwardly at how closely they matched his underpants, distinguished only by the abundant yellow ribbon used as trim. Not saying a word, he put one leg through one hole then the other leg into the other hole. Nora began to pull them up. Then something unexpected occurred. Nora tried to tug them up Tom’s legs, but they wouldn’t budge. She got the pants halfway up his calf but they would move no further. Exasperated, Nora had Tom step back out as she examined the label. Tom heard her mutter an unkind word under her breath. “It looks like there has been a mistake. All three pairs of overalls should have been the same size, but this one apparently was made for someone quite a bit smaller. There’s no way you can wear these.” Exactly what I was thinking, Tom said to himself. At least we can agree on something. “I’ve got to find something else for you to wear. The other two pairs are soaking to get the smell of your pee out and then need to go into the wash. Stay here and finish watching your show while I see what I can find.” Tom and Sean both sat down again in front of the television, although this time Sean clearly moved as far away as he could while still having a view of the screen. Both of them avoided the wet spot. After about ten minutes, Nora returned with a triumphant smile on her face. Uh, oh, thought Tom, this doesn’t look good. He was right. “I don’t have any more pants that will fit you and my clothes wouldn’t be appropriate, but you can’t go around half-naked all day. Then it dawned on me. Voila!” Tom looked with horror at the object Nora produced from behind her back. It was a maternity top, but one that he was sure the fashion-conscious Nora never wore. It was a throwback to another era—a pale pink with white lace around the bodice and bows lining the front. A peter pan collar gave it a childish look, while the flare at the bottom to accommodate a pregnant belly gave it the obvious appearance of a dress. It couldn’t have looked more infantile. Tom wanted to balk, yearned to run but the voices in his head reminded him to stay, to “focus on the prize.” Reluctantly he put his arms up and as his head passed through the neck hole, he found himself face to face with a smirking Nora, who gave a little tug on his pacifier. “You look adorable. And it is somehow so much more appropriate than those horrid pants. Besides, it will be easier for you to get to the potty, or…” and here Nora smiled evilly, “to see if you had an accident.” “Mommy, he looks like a girl! A baby girl!” Leave it to Sean to twist the knife, Tom thought. He realized that he was sucking the pacifier in response to the stress of the moment and quickly stopped. “Why, yes he does, Sean. But since he has been acting like a baby, maybe he should be dressed more like a baby. And I guess if you wear a dress, you can’t be a boy baby, can you?” Tom was sure that this logic would make perfect sense to a toddler. “But then we can’t call him ‘Tommie’ anymore if he…I mean she…is a girl. What would be a good name?” Sean didn’t hesitate. “Baby Katie! Tommie’s name can be Baby Katie!” Nora smiled. Katie was in fact a baby living a few doors down, but the block could use a second Baby Katie. “Okay, Sean. From now on we will call her Baby Katie. What’s the matter, Katie, don’t look so sad. It’s a beautiful name. Now sit down and suck your binkie while I go make lunch. Sean, let me know if she needs me.” Sean was already lost again in the video, for which Tom was thankful. He knew now that Nora had planned this all along and was upset with himself for not seeing it earlier. But what difference would it had made? She had outwitted him from the start and even if he had anticipated her every move he would still be sitting here in a dress. Even his mantra was losing its appeal, as every new humiliation made the next day seem farther away than ever. He closed his eyes, lay down in a fetal position, and sucked his way into oblivion, dreading what would come next. X. Tom was in such a daze that it could have been five minutes or an hour before Nora re-entered the room and announced that it was time for lunch. The cartoon must have ended, because Sean didn’t hesitate to head for the kitchen. Tom pulled himself up slowly, just in time to see Nora’s back as she followed Sean. Tom plodded in the same direction, cursing life and wondering when it would get better. As he walked into the kitchen, there were the usual three place settings at the table, but with a difference. Sean was sitting in his usual spot, and Nora’s chair remained at the head. Where Tom had eaten breakfast, however, a high chair sat in place of the kitchen chair that had been there just that morning. Tom paused, knowing what was expected of him, but unwilling to move his legs in that direction. “You didn’t expect a big kid chair after your behavior today, did you?” Nora taunted. “I told you that acting like a baby would force me to take away some of the privileges that children have. Until you show me that you are at least as mature as Sean, you will be eating your meals in a high chair. Now don’t give me any trouble, and sit! The tone of Nora’s voice quickly convinced Tom that nothing would be gained by resisting, so he moved over next to the high chair. Turning around to face the table, he forced his rear onto the seat and wiggled backward to try to get as much of it as possible onto the child-sized chair. It was a tight and uncomfortable fit. When it became clear that he was in as much as he could be, Nora pulled the tray out from nearby and slid it into place. Tom couldn’t have moved if he tried. Sean stared at Tom in a condescending manner but was soon distracted by the grilled cheese sandwich placed on his plate. Tom’s stomach growled in response to the smell of Sean’s lunch and realized that he was starved. His hopes for a sandwich or two of his own were quickly dashed, though, as Nora set a compartmentalized plastic child’s plate in front of him with mush in each section, distinguished from one another only by color. Tom couldn’t decide which looked more unappetizing, the orange, the gray or the yellow one. He wasn’t sure where to start; it all looked and smelled horrid. He soon realized that the choice was not his to make. Nora pulled her chair next to the high chair and produced a small metal spoon with a rubberized tip. She began to move her hand toward Tom’s plate before stopping and getting up from her chair. “I almost forgot,” she said as she returned to the table with a cloth bib in hand. Of course, it was no plain bib. It was white with pink trim, with matching pink embroidered letters spelling out “Mommy’s messy eater.” It was obviously much larger than what any normal child would use, reinforcing Tom’s view that all of this had been carefully planned for quite some time. Nora tied it around his neck before taking a few more pictures with her phone. “Now we can get started. Open wide.” Tom knew that refusing to open his mouth would result in some punitive measure far worse than submitting, and besides he was hungry. He didn’t dare peek to see what color mess he would be starting with. As soon as the spoon entered his mouth, color was the least of his problems. Whatever this was, it was vile. Tom’s tongue involuntarily spasmed, sending some of the offending food out of his mouth and down his chin, a few drips landing on his bib. “It’s a good thing I remembered your bib, Katie. Now try to keep this bite in where it belongs. Here comes the airplane….” Tom’s hope that this bite would taste any better, or that he would get used to it, was misguided. While he could distinguish among the three varieties, it was impossible to guess what any of them were, or even what the main ingredient was. As different as they were, though, they did have one thing in common. They were nothing any human being of any age should have to ingest. Eventually, the torture neared its end as Nora began to scrape the plate for any last remnants. With the last spoonful, she missed his waiting mouth and ended up smearing it all over his cheeks and chin. Tom was thankful for the reprieve until he realized that Nora was chronicling his condition on her phone. Anyone seeing that photo would see an oversized toddler who was incapable of finding his mouth with a spoon. Sean pushed his chair away from the table and left the room without saying a word. Nora scooted even closer to Tom, using the bib to clean off his face. As she did so, she leaned into his ear and whispered. “I know you think this is all crazy, maybe even mean. But believe me, it’s working. I know my son. Even though he’s already decided that you offer no challenge to him in the potty contest, I can sense the fear he has of being subjected to the same punishment you are undergoing. The contest helped kick-start his desire to use the potty. Beyond that, though, he is terrified of being treated like a baby girl, and that’s providing more than enough motivation for him to keep using it. I know this has been hard for you, but it’s working. Rita will be proud.” With that, Nora kissed Tom on the cheek before picking up the empty plate and bringing it over to the sink. Tom’s head was spinning; he was confused. Just when he had convinced himself that Nora was the evil incarnate, she does this. Maybe she was right. He could see that Sean was well on his way to staying dry. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t really cruel, just the bizarre product of a frustrated mother’s mind. Nora surely knew that if she had laid out her plan to him in advance, he never would have agreed to it. He wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t have done the same thing in her place. He really was crucial to the success of “Mission Potty Training” and had performed his role admirably, albeit reluctantly. And Rita would be very, very proud of him and would owe him big time. Maybe she would even go down on him, something she had up until now refused to do. Tom began to see things in a whole new light. Nora slid the tray out and Tom freed himself from the tight embrace of the high chair, offering no resistance as Nora pushed the pacifier between his lips. “Now go play in the playroom for awhile. Nap time will be in about an hour.” Tom almost floated down the hallway and didn’t mind when Sean ignored his entrance. He almost felt important. He felt needed. And he felt a hell of a lot better than he had just an hour before. XI. Tom occupied himself with whatever he could find that wouldn’t interrupt his thought process, which was pretty much everything in the playroom. As he sorted blocks and made towers and structures of various styles, he tried to sort out all that had happened since he arrived in the early hours of the day. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember if Nora had ever treated him badly when Sean was absent from their presence, or if all of the actions and words he had cursed not long before had been solely for the boy’s benefit. One thing he couldn’t deny was that everything that had transpired had, in fact, inspired Sean to use the toilet. Seeing the tender and appreciative side of his sister-in-law made the whole humiliating day somehow seem more tolerable. And the prospect of a grateful wife who was probably as horny as he was from lack of sex gave Tom the same level of motivation Sean had, except Tom had to fail at the very skill his nephew was striving to master. Keeping busy with his hands while his brain puzzled out the day’s events made the time pass quickly. Before he knew it, Nora was announcing another potty break and then nap time. This time Sean was less than enthusiastic about leaving his play, and insisted that he get “just a little more,” but his heavy eyelids and frequent yawning betrayed him. As he trudged toward the potty chair sitting in the living room, Tom fell into line. Not surprisingly, Nora held him back for a minute. “Okay, it’s time to vary it up a bit. As usual, you won’t use the potty. This time, though, wait to have your accident until naptime. Make sure Sean is asleep so that he will assume you wet yourself while you slept. He needs to know that bedtime accidents when he isn’t aware of what is happening are no more acceptable than those when he is awake.” Strangely, perhaps due to his new perspective on Nora’s crazy plan, this made sense to Tom. He went through the motions of showing enthusiasm for Sean’s success on the potty and tried to appear especially concentrated on his own efforts before adopting a crestfallen look when not a single drop hit the bowl. The odd trio made its way into the nursery, and Tom suddenly realized that he had never before been inside Sean’s bedroom. It was obviously a room in transition. Sean’s crib sat in one corner of the room while a brand-new toddler bed occupied the opposite wall. A changing table with diapers, powders and wipes filling its shelving crowded between the two beds. A wooden dresser matching the new bed remained in its box, halfway into the closet. A rattle and teething ring inexplicably kept their place on the carpet, fighting for space with toy trucks and electronic learning games. No wonder this kid is confused about growing up, Tom thought. “Sean,” Nora began, “since you have been acting like such a big boy today, would you like to try your new bed for your nap? I think any boy who uses the potty like you have been doing deserves to sleep in a real bed instead of a crib. Besides, we need the crib for Baby Katie.” Sean looked a little bit scared at the realization that becoming potty-trained would also force other changes, but he nodded slowly as he began to strip off his pants. Tom’s realization at where he would be spending naptime was just as harsh. Did Nora really expect him to squeeze himself into a crib? Would it even support his weight? He stood unmoving as Nora tucked her son in and gave him a kiss, then crossed the room and lowered the side of the crib. “C’mon, Katie, it’s sleepy time. Because you have been acting like a baby today, you need to sleep in the baby bed.” If Nora hadn’t been nice to him earlier, this might have been the last straw, but Tom had already decided to play along no matter how ridiculous the demands. He shuffled over to the side of the crib, allowed Nora to appear to help him in under Sean’s sleepy but watchful eyes, and tried to settle in in the cramped space. Tom winced as Nora raised the crib side and snapped it into place. It was only then that he took stock in his surroundings. A mobile strung with baby farm animals hung overhead. The sides of the crib were padded with a blue and pink bumper, which may have been comforting for an infant but only made Tom feel more confined. Several plush animals shared his cell. Tom piled a few of the softer animals together to use as a pillow as he waited for Sean to fall asleep. It didn’t take long. Within minutes he heard the rhythmic breathing of a child gone into the land of dreams. Now what? Nora’s instructions as to when to wet earlier had seemed clear at the time, but now Tom had questions. How long was nap time anyway? He didn’t want to soak himself any earlier than he had to; lying in urine-soaked underpants for any length of time would be extremely unpleasant. On the other hand, what if Sean awoke in ten, or even five, minutes? Maybe a noise would disrupt his usual slumber, or he would be frightened in his new bed. Would the fact that Tom stayed dry affect his training? Or worse, would Nora and Rita insist that he stay an extra day in order to accomplish the naptime lesson? As it turned out, Tom’s internal debate was moot. Sitting on the potty triggered his bladder’s release mechanism, and the fact that Tom held back didn’t make the desire to go any less. Perhaps lying in a crib, or feeling the rubber sheet beneath him, sent long-dormant signals to his brain that it was time to urinate regardless of what Tom desired. He felt a small trickle enter into his training pants. It actually felt good to go, so rather than resist Tom relaxed and let his bladder empty. The urine came fast and was surprisingly copious. It quickly soaked through his trainers and the hem of his dress. The waterproof sheet prevented the liquid from going anywhere, and soon Tom felt himself lying in a lake of pee. Gradually it began to be absorbed by the maternity top, but any shift in position revealed that at least some of the fluid remained pooled beneath him. Tom was immediately miserable. As his urine cooled, it began to itch. Tom wanted to scratch his crotch, but the prospect of covering his fingers with pee gave him second thoughts. Before long, a pungent odor reached his nose. The smell seemed to trigger odd flashes of memory in Tom’s mind. Somehow wet, clinging stinky clothing was familiar. He began to wonder if he had been slow himself to learn the skill of toileting. There was no clock in the nursery, but time seemed to stand still. More than once, Tom wanted to cry out for Nora but didn’t want to face her wrath for waking Sean up. Finally, after what was anywhere from thirty minutes to two hours, Sean began to stir. Tom watched him rub his eyes before yelling out for his mom. Nora took two steps into the room, smiled at her son, then stopped dead in her tracks. She sniffed the air once, shook her head, then repeated the gesture. Her eyes filled with a fury that terrified both nappers. She looked at them both, crossed her arms, and said coldly, “One of you, or maybe both of you, is in very, very big trouble.” XII. Nora first approached her son, who appeared to pale and tremble in anticipation of something horrid. He may wet his pants simply out of fear, Tom thought, and then where would we be? He watched raptly as Sean stood at attention. Nora felt his crotch first with pants on, then again after she pulled his pants down to the boy’s knees. Nodding slightly, she moved to the bed, rubbing her hand across the sheets looking for a wet spot. Satisfied, she smiled gently at Sean, whose sunk down to the mattress in relief. “What a good boy you are, Sean. It takes a big boy to both use the potty when you’re awake and to stay dry when you sleep. I’m very proud of you.” Sean glowed, and any trace of fear was long gone. Both mother and son then turned their eyes to Tom, who suddenly felt very uncomfortable under their gaze. “Now we need to check Baby Katie. I have a feeling that she was not as good as you were.” Tom saw the superior smirk on Sean’s face and immediately his feelings of intense dislike for the boy returned. It wasn’t his nephew, however, that he needed to worry about at the moment. He watched Nora warily as she lowered the side of the crib. “Lay back down, Katie, and let me check your panties.” It didn’t escape Tom that Sean got to stand up for his inspection while he had to lay back down like an infant. He felt Nora put her hand on his crotch and gave a small yelp when she squeezed it hard, which he felt was unnecessary. While that gesture alone told her all she needed to know, she rubbed her hand along the crib sheet, brushing up against the small puddle that had remained after the rest of Tom’s wetting was absorbed. She dramatically picked held her hand up high, allowing a few drops of urine to drip off of her fingers, as she turned her attention back to her son. “Do you see this, Sean? Baby Katie couldn’t keep her panties dry while she slept. She wet the bed. Boys and girls who wet the bed get punished.” Sean met this news with obvious excitement. “Are you going to spank her, Mommy?” Nora seemed to consider her response before speaking. “No, dear, not this time. Big boys and girls who should know better get spanked when they have an accident.” Her stern look at Sean as she said this clearly reinforced the idea that this would be his fate if that occurred. “Katie has wet her pants twice and now wet the bed, and she hasn’t used the potty even once today. I don’t think she was ready to start potty training; she obviously isn’t behaving like a big girl yet. If she’s going to act like a little baby, her punishment is that we are going to treat her like a little baby.” At first Tom didn’t consider the impact of Nora’s words. But after she told Tom not to move as she went off to wash her hands, he began to wonder. What did she mean, treating him like a baby? This wasn’t part of the original deal. The threat of a spanking had obviously had the intended effect on Sean; why wouldn’t they just do that again? Besides, he already was sucking on a pacifier, sleeping in a crib and eating baby food, what else could she do? Soon he was sorry that he asked that question. Nora returned to the room holding a large pile of clothing and two plastic garbage bags. Placing one bag on the floor next to the crib, she directed Tom to slide down and stand on it. She carefully removed his top, stuffing it into the other bag, then slid his yellowed underpants off. She held them with the tip of one finger, making a face like they were the most toxic thing ever, then slowly moved them to the bag to join the wet top. Tom saw her furtively glance at Sean to make sure that he wouldn’t miss her distain for someone who had no bladder control. Nora moved around Tom to strip the sheet off of the crib as he stood silently, his damp skin causing him to shiver slightly. Nora still had not said a single word directly to him and he was getting increasingly curious, and more than a little apprehensive, about the next step. Nora asked Sean to bring her the baby wipes and had him stand nearby as she began removing all traces of urine from Tom’s body. Tom assumed that involving the boy in the process would give him a superior attitude and reinforce his self-image as a big boy who uses the potty. Nora frowned and gave a snort of disgust as she finished wiping Tom’s behind, the wipe containing a small but obvious brown streak. Still, she said nothing. Tom began to shift nervously from one foot to the other until a quick slap to his backside caused him to stand still. Nora lifted one of his feet, wiping the sole, then did the other. She wrapped the used wipes up in the bag, leaving Tom standing exposed on the carpet. She spoke softly to Sean, asking him to do something for her. Sean went off in search of the item while Nora pulled the pile of clothing toward her. Tom decided it was best not to know what was in the pile, and continued to stare straight ahead. Sean soon returned with an oversized plastic changing pad, which Nora took from him and laid on the floor at Tom’s feet. “Lie down, Katie, and stay quiet. We’ll go over the new rules shortly, but for right now it’s enough for you to know that babies don’t talk.” Tom lowered himself down and placed his midsection on the pad, jumping slightly at its coolness. He realized that he had been in denial about what was to come, because it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Nora shot him a triumphant glance as she shook out a large disposable diaper. Tom only got a quick glimpse of the front, but it appeared to have baby blocks around the waistband area. “Lift.” Tom did so, lamenting at how he could have gotten himself into such a situation where resisting was not an option. He could only watch as Nora had Sean shake a generous amount of sweet-smelling baby powder over his genitals. Nora began to rub it in, starting with his butt and then moving forward. Tom swore she spent an unnecessary amount of time on his penis and balls, and despite the circumstances he had to work to avoid becoming aroused. She pushed his penis down back between his legs before pulling the diaper taut and fastening the tapes. She patted the front of his diaper, causing a small cloud of powder to waft out of the top. “There, now we don’t need to be afraid of any accidents. And Baby Katie, you don’t need to worry about trying to use the potty any more. Whenever you need to go to the bathroom, you just go wherever you are and Auntie Nora will change you and make you all fresh again. But we almost forgot! We need to finish getting you dressed.” Nora leaned over and picked up her choice of clothing, holding it above Tom’s face. Tom was horrified. The maternity top may have looked like a large baby dress, but this wasa large baby dress. It was a pastel yellow with white trim and the sleeves puffed out obscenely around the shoulders. Lace was everywhere—around the collar, the sleeves, the hem and any other available space. A layer of organza acted as a thin petticoat. Tom knew his eyes betrayed his reaction, and Nora smiled evilly in return. “This is every little girl’s dream dress, Katie. You will look adorable. Now sit up and let’s get it on you.” Tom slowly sat up and in response to Nora’s prompting put his arms up and allowed her to slip the dress over his head. Only then did he see the ribbons hanging down around the chest area, which Nora deftly tied into bows. Tom thought he heard Sean giggle, and shot a stern look in his direction. Nora, in the meantime, continued her task. “Katie, dear, lie back down so that we can get these pretty panties over your diaper.” Nora held a pair of plastic-lined cotton panties matching the dress in every way, including row after row of lace over the bottom. No sooner were those pulled into place than Nora fitted Tom’s feet with white silk socks with a row of yellow bows around the top. “I have to go find something to complete your new look, but I can’t trust a little baby not to get into mischief. Crawl into the living room.” Tom began to move on his hands and knees, with Nora and Sean following behind. He could only imagine the view his ruffled behind gave as he headed toward down the hallway. Entering the living room, he almost crawled right into a new object that hadn’t been there before nap time. He stopped, his face inches from the wooden rails of a baby’s playpen, and sat. Within seconds, Nora put her hands under his arms and applied pressure, signaling Tom to stand. He knew what was expected of him and stepped over the bars and onto the waterproof pad decorated with a nursery rhyme theme. He sat with a thud onto his padded rear. Nora was gone only a few minutes, during which time Sean stood outside the playpen staring at Tom. At least this charade is making an impression, Tom thought. Enjoy the show now, you brat, as tomorrow I’m going to be your uncle again. Nora returned and had Tom shift so that his back was up against the bars. He felt her begin to brush his hair, and had to admit that it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. All too soon she stopped, then grabbed a small tuft between her fingers. Tom heard a mysterious “click” and was baffled as to what she was doing. Nora repeated the process around a dozen times before she seemed satisfied. “Sean, now you can see what happens to bad boys who don’t use the potty. They get turned into little baby girls. You wouldn’t want that to happen to you, would you?” Tom couldn’t see Sean’s face, but assumed he turned slightly pale and was vigorously shaking his head. Nora continued. “Now you can go off and play. I need to go over a few things with Baby Katie.” Sean didn’t have to be asked twice. Tom watched him go, wishing he could follow. XIII. Nora sat on the couch and leaned over so that her face was only inches away from Tom’s. “I suppose you think this has gone too far, but the image of you diapered and dressed like a prissy little girl is indelibly burned into Sean’s mind. But we aren’t going to leave anything to chance. I’m going to go over the new rules for you, and I expect you to sit quietly, suck on your paci, and realize you don’t have any choice but to comply. The Baby Katie picture gallery has grown bigger and much more embarrassing. “Beginning now until you leave, you are a baby and I expect—no, I insist—that you act like one. I realize you don’t have much experience with infants, so I’ll go over the house rules, which are non-negotiable. First, I was serious when I said ‘no talking.’ You may babble, cry, gurgle, coo or make any sort of nonsensical noise you choose, but not a single thing coming from your mouth had better sound like a word or you’ll regret it. Second, your only manner of getting around will be crawling, unless stairs are involved and then you will scoot up or down on your bottom. Obviously I can’t pick you up to put you into your crib or high chair, so you can use your legs a little to assist me, but as soon as you get where you’re going you go limp again. “Third, all decisions are now made by me. For example, you will have no choice as to what to wear, what toys you are given to play with, or when or what you eat. And your meals will continue to be all blended smooth like baby food while everything you drink will be from a baby bottle. Next, you will do everything you can to convince Sean that you have now left the land of little boys and have become a simpering, sissy little baby girl. I’m afraid he may never look at his uncle in quite the same way again.” Tom’s face clouded and he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and kept quiet. “Finally, and this one you’re really not going to like, we are giving up trying to potty train you. You notice that you are wearing a diaper. That’s what babies wear. In fact, they wear a lot of diapers, and you know why that is, don’t you Katie? Because they continually go pee-pee and poo-poo in them. It’s important that Sean not only see what a baby you’ve become, but smell it as well. Sometimes, like now, you will smell nice and sweet from the wipes and the baby powder, or maybe some lotion. Mostly, though, you will emit a foul odor from inside your diaper, and unfortunately your auntie may be a little slow to change the baby in order to make a bigger impression on your cousin. And don’t think that I’m just talking about a wet diaper, young lady. You will be doing everything in there.” Tom’s eyes widened in sudden realization of what Nora was saying. He began to frantically utter a plea past his pacifier, but got cut off. “You’re not trying to violate rule number one already, are you?” Tom quieted. “That’s better. Besides, I think I know what you have on your mind that’s so important you would risk punishment to say. Here it’s mid-afternoon, you’ve been here all day, and you haven’t had a bowel movement yet, have you? I’ll bet it’s getting a little urgent down there, isn’t it?” Tom nodded. “And you’d like to secretly go off and take care of business in the toilet while Sean isn’t around, correct?” Tom nodded his head vigorously. Thank goodness Nora was astute. There are certain things from infancy an adult should never have to repeat. “Well, I’m sorry, Katie, but dirty diapers come with being a baby. And believe me, one whiff of your stinky bottom and Sean will never want to be in your place, ever. You can go ahead and put it off if you like, but eventually nature will have to run its course.” Tom had never hated anyone as much as he hated Nora at this moment. He would show her. After all, he wasn’t really a baby, and he had had control over his bladder and bowels for decades now. It wouldn’t be easy, and probably not the best idea from a health perspective, but he would simply refuse to let his body defecate. He could hold on until tomorrow morning when Rita came by and he could put this whole sorry affair behind him. First, a nice sit on the toilet, followed by some long-overdue sex with his wife. Tom instantly felt better now that he had a plan and was thinking ahead to the next day and leaving this madhouse. His good mood quickly diminished minutes later as he took stock of the situation as it stood at that moment. He was sitting in a playpen in a diaper and baby dress, with who knows what in his hair, and his bladder was already beginning to ache. Plus, he was bored. Even babies usually got toys to play with when placed in solitary confinement. He yawned, laid back to stare at the ceiling, and waited for something, anything, to happen. XIV. Tom realized that he must have dozed off when he was startled awake by Nora’s entrance. He had no idea how long he had slept, although time was already becoming as irrelevant as it was for any real baby. Nora threw some soft blocks and a rag doll into the playpen, then presented Tom with a baby bottle full of what appeared to be milk. She didn’t have to say a word, as Tom took the bottle from her and began to suckle. From the first taste he realized it wasn’t milk. It was sickly sweet and awful. He had never tasted formula, but knew that this was it. Nora had apparently tampered with the nipple to open it up, as the fluid passed quickly into Tom’s mouth and down his throat. Not a pleasant experience, but at least the torture wasn’t prolonged. Tom’s little nap and the distraction of drinking from the bottle had helped him ignore the growing demands of his bladder. Suppressing a bowel movement was one thing, but he knew that he could never escape having to wet his diaper. As the discomfort in his abdomen turned to pain, he figured that being a bit wet was becoming the least of the two evils. Maybe he could just release a small bit of urine to relieve the achiness, so that he wouldn’t get soggy all at once. As he began to relax, his body took control of his bladder away from his brain, and the floodgates opened. At first Tom was too surprised to stem the tide, but even once he realized what was happening he did nothing to stop it. It just felt so good to pee and he closed his eyes with pleasure. It didn’t take long for the pleasure to be replaced by extreme shame. He couldn’t accept that he was now sitting in a pissy diaper and would be helpless to do anything about it until Nora came to change him. And he was sure that the diaper change would be even more embarrassing than anything that had happened so far. Still, as the wetness cooled and the diaper began to stick up his crack, he was willing to put up with her verbal taunting just to get clean and dry. Time crawled with no sign of Nora. The odor of ammonia assailed Tom’s nostrils and his entire rear and crotch began to itch. Did parents of real babies leave them for this long without even checking up on them? For a moment, Tom considered crying to draw Nora’s attention, but quickly decided never to give her that satisfaction. He would just wait it out. He needed to do something to take his mind off of his predicament. Stacking blocks killed a few minutes, but the doll was useless as a distraction. Eventually Tom found that using the doll to build tiny houses with the blocks, or as a victim of toppled towers, helped somewhat. He couldn’t totally forget the sogginess, itch and odor, but it was something. His play was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Tom’s first reaction was that someone had better go answer the door, because he was in no position to do so. This was immediately followed by an intense panic. While anyone standing just outside the door would not be able to see him, if they were invited inside he would be in plain view if the visitor looked to the right into the living room. Nora would never let that happen. Or would she? He would soon find out, as he heard the distinctive sounds of Nora’s shoes getting louder as they brought her to the front door. She took a quick glance at Tom before stepping to the door and opening it. “Well, hello there. I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.” “I have some exciting news, so I thought I would drop in to see how the potty training is going and to have a short talk with Tom.” Tom’s worry turned instantly inecstasy. It was Rita! She was here early! Finally, he would be released from the control of her insane sister and be able to be a man again. And Rita would be so proud of him! He could feel the twitch in his groin as he contemplated his reward. “Well, c’mon in. I think we may have a surprise in store for you as well.” Tom sat up and stared at the foyer in anticipation of his savior coming into the room. Seconds later, Rita did come in, dressed smartly in her business suit, her hair perfect as always. Even above the stench of his own urine Tom could smell her favorite perfume, or perhaps it was his imagination. It didn’t matter. Rita was here and all would be well. Rita took one step into the room and froze still. The smile on her face faded and was replaced first by a look of confusion, and then one of anger. She turned to face her sister. “Would you mind explaining what’s going on here?” “It’s going to take a little time. The short answer is that while Sean has made immense progress and appears to be accident-free, Katie here seems to have regressed and has wet through all of her panties. Treating her like a baby seemed to be appropriate.” “Katie?” “Oh, yes, I’ve become so used to calling her that that I forgot. After I ran out of clean boy’s clothing for her, I had to put her in one of my old maternity tops that looked just like a dress. He..well, she… seemed to really like it, and given what she has, or hasn’t got, in the man department down there it just seemed more appropriate to pull out this old costume. That’s when I decided to shave her legs and fix up her hair. I think she’s cute.” Rita walked over to the side of the playpen, looking down disdainfully at her husband. “You let her do this to you? Have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?” Rita sat on the couch and put her elbows on her knees, leaning over to address Tom face-to-face. “You’re supposed to be my man. My man. But look at you. Dressed up in a frilly infant’s dress with bows all through your hair and sucking on a pacifier. Does that sound like a man to you? I might as well get the whole picture. Let me see your panties.” Rita stood, leaned over the rails and pulled the hem of Tom’s dress up to his chest. A small gasp came involuntarily from her mouth. She dropped the dress and sat back down. At first she was unable to speak, but soon found her tongue. “You’re wearing diapers? Diapers? How old are you again? I have never been so humiliated in my life.” By this time Nora had taken the spot on the couch next to her sister. “It’s really not her fault. They were my idea, although frankly she didn’t raise a peep in protest. I think she realized that once she wet through all of her training panties that it was either big girl panties or these.” Nora took an exaggerated sniff of the air. “And it obviously was the right choice. I think Baby Katie used her diapers awhile ago.” “You’re wet? You let my sister tape you into a diaper and then you actually used it? I thought I couldn’t be any more embarrassed, but I was wrong. I don’t know what to think.” Tom couldn’t understand how things had turned so badly so quickly. He got to his knees, removed his pacifier and got ready to explain the real sequence of events. “Oh no, you don’t Baby Katie,” Rita said with a sneer. “Keep your binky in your mouth. I don’t want to hear a word from you right now.” Tom’s body chose this time to betray him, as a loud fart escaped from his rear, followed in quick succession by two more. His face turned a bright red, partly out of shame and partly in an effort to control his bowels. Rita looked at her sister in confusion, not sure what was happening. Nora was all too happy to explain. “She needs to go poo-poo, Sis, but apparently there is still a little bit of adult inside that makes her fight it.” Nora looked Tom right in the eyes and he felt entirely cowed, much as a hostile witness must when she cross-examines him. “Listen closely, little girl. If you want to be a baby so badly, you need to act like one. I want you to shit your diapers right here while I watch. I want you to feel a fraction of the humiliation that I feel right now.” Tom shook his head vigorously, trying to make her understand. It was no use. “Get on with it, Katie. Didn’t I tell you? For every second that you delay, it will be one more minute until you get changed. And,” Rita looked at her watch. “it’s already been forty seconds.” Tom looked at his wife in disbelief. He needed to think this out, to find a way to turn this conversation around. When Rita tapped her watch, however, he knew he had to defile himself first. He squatted on his haunches and waited. Now that he wanted to go, though, he couldn’t. Not with two women watching him. Tom pushed repeatedly, his focus so intense that he didn’t hear the involuntary giggle from Rita, as he looked every bit the part of a toddler intentionally soiling herself. Finally, with an audible plop, a large and mushy stool pressed out of his rear and against the back of his diaper, spreading out slightly as the tightness of the diaper prevented it from going further. A few more gaseous emissions completed his foul task. He looked up forlornly at his wife. “Seventy-four seconds. I hope you enjoy your mess, because you’re not going to get changed for quite a while. While you stew, Nora and I need to go to the kitchen and have a chat. First, though….” Rita stood as she spoke and pushed down firmly upon Tom’s shoulders, forcing him to sit square on his bottom. The nasty mess immediately spread up his back and through his crotch, cradling his balls. Tom closed his eyes in misery. When he opened them again, both women were gone. XV. Later, Tom would wonder if it would have made any difference if he had left the playpen, made his way to the kitchen and demanded that they stop this nonsense and return his clothing, right then. In other words, acted as a man. It was fruitless to ponder, though, because he did no such thing. Instead, he sat in the playpen wallowing in a soaking, dirty, stinky diaper because that’s what he was told to do. With no clocks in the room, Tom had no idea how many of the seventy-four minutes had elapsed since he soiled himself, or even if Rita would keep her promise about his getting changed at that point. The kitchen was quiet, dashing Tom’s hopes that Rita would be unleashing her famous temper against her sister. Quiet was not good. Being left alone in the stench of the living room was even worse. Tom tried to find a position in which the poop in his diaper would settle somewhere away from his genitals, but failed. Knowing Rita, the fact that his penis was coated in shit would cause her to prohibit any penetration into her body until she was sure it was cleansed and disinfected, which could be months to meet her standards. Just the image alone would make sex with him repulsive in her eyes. Tom sighed and laid on his back, cringing with yet another shift of his mess. No sooner had he done so than the two women appeared at the side of the playpen. “How thoughtful of you to display your dirty diaper to us, Katie,” his wife said, her voice dripping with scorn. “Whew! Nora, I realize the smell comes with the territory with babies, but do you ever get used to it?” “It never seems as bad when it’s your own baby,” Nora replied. “But in Katie’s case, I think it’s safe to say that she really is a little stinker.” Rita pinched her nose in disgust, then shook her head. It was only then that Tom saw the baby bottle she held in her hand. He knew then that salvation was not at hand. He had a pretty good idea what fabrications Nora had put into her head in the kitchen, and if Rita took the bait he was in real trouble. Rita placed a dark bath towel over her lap and then turned to speak again to Tom. “I’m going to allow you out of your playpen while we have a talk. Well, I will be the only one doing the talking. I’m only going to take your pacifier out long enough to put this bottle in. I expect you to pay attention while you nurse, as what I have to say is very important.” Tom stood up, stepped carefully over the side of the pen, and was directed to lie across Rita’s lap on top of the towel, resting his head on a pillow nestled against her shoulder. Nora moved off the couch to accommodate his legs, but pulled up a chair to be a part of the group. Rita removed Tom’s pacifier then immediately stuck the bottle into his mouth. The icky taste of baby formula again started assailing his taste buds. He tried to slow the stream down as much as possible. Rita shifted her weight to get comfortable, resting her arm not holding the bottle across the center of Tom’s body. Her hand ended up right on top of his rear end. Rita pushed her hand up against the lump in his panties, moving it in a circular motion to smear it even more than it already had been. “I’ll start with what I had come to tell you before I got so distracted. As you know, over the past several months I’ve been devoting most of my time at work to this one huge case. It was supposed to go to trial in three weeks, but the judge’s current trial settled halfway through and he doesn’t want to waste any time. So trial starts next week and the partner in charge needs to fly out there tomorrow to start preparing the client. She wants me go with her.” Rita shifted slightly and adjusted her hand so that the formula flowed more directly, causing Tom to wince. “She wants me to be her second chair at the trial. This is a big opportunity for me, and if I do well it practically assures me of making partner next year. We expect the trial to last at least five weeks, so I’ll be in New York for that entire time. I leave in the morning.” In a way, Tom saw this as good news. He would get home the next day after Rita had already left, which would give him time to think of how to get back on her good side. Maybe the distance between them would make her less likely to hold onto her anger, and he could send her notes and flowers and show an interest in her trial. By the time she got home, all would be forgiven. “Now, I know you were thinking you would be going back home tomorrow. But how irresponsible would I be to leave you totally unsupervised in your present condition? I saw a lot of pictures of your behavior today—wetting your panties and the bed, acting like a little baby. Who would feed you? And how would I know that you would change your diapers when they needed it? Chances are you would leak all over my furniture or ruin the mattress. The photographic evidence I just examined is convincing. You are too immature to be left on your own. “I’ve spoken to Nora about it, and she’s graciously agreed to watch over you until I get back.” Tom blanched and instinctively moved to protest, but Rita anticipated him and shoved the bottle forcefully deeper into his mouth. “Let me make this perfectly clear. As long as you are living under this roof, which will be until I return from New York, Nora is in charge. You will behave for her and do whatever she says as if you were her own child. You do NOT want to be in your shoes if I hear that you are acting up. “We’ve also discussed your regressive behavior. I am leaving how that is handled to Nora as well. I am going to need to concentrate on my trial work and do not need to worry about whether you stayed dry at night or spit up your strained peas. It is totally up to her discretion when…or if…you take another stab at potty training. And if she thinks it is in your best interest to get your girly desires out of your system, she has the authority to keep you in dresses. Do you understand, little Missy?” Tom understood all too well. His wife had been brainwashed. He nodded his head, because for now there was nothing else he could do. He needed time to think, and if today was any indication, there would be a lot of time spent alone in a playpen where he could plot his escape. Rita removed the bottle from Tom’s mouth just as he began to suck air, and the pacifier was quickly re-inserted. “Should I burp him?” Rita asked Nora, with a little bit of a giggle. Tom couldn’t see the answer, but felt Rita gently pat him on the back for a minute or two before indicating that he should return to the playpen. Tom hesitated before sitting, then again plopped down onto the bulk of his mess. It doesn’t get any less disgusting, he thought. Rita faced Nora with a guilty expression on her face. “Nora,” she began, looking at her watch, “this is really a horrible thing to do to you, but…” Before she finished her sentence, Nora interrupted. “I know, you’ve got packing and a million other things to do tonight. Go on, don’t worry about it. She’s still got a good twenty minutes to go until she gets changed. I might as well get used to it, this won’t be her last nasty diaper.” Rita thankfully gave Nora a hug and hurried out the door. Nora turned to Tom, smiled deviously, then walked away down the hallway. Tom helplessly laid back down in the playpen, a single tear running down his cheek, as he peed into his diaper. XVI. Tom tried to count out the minutes, out of boredom as much as the burning desire to get out of his dirty diaper, but soon gave up. He didn’t expect Nora to change him on time, anyway. The addition of more urine to his already-full diaper lubricated his mess so that every tiny movement caused it to shift. By now he was sure that his entire diaper area was covered in slimy filth. He was concentrating on not moving, staring at the ceiling, when Nora finally returned. She was brusque. “Follow me,” she said as she headed up the stairs, turning only to make sure that Tom was crawling rather than walking. Going up the stairs on his bottom added to his misery, but the prospect of being clean helped him endure. Nora surprised him by walking past her bedroom to an adjacent guest room. Opening the door, she signaled Tom to move inside. Tom was barely past the threshold when he stopped, stunned. The room, which he and Rita had slept in a few months before while their own home was being painted, had been completely transformed. It was now every bit a nursery for a baby girl. The bottom half of the walls was a dark pink, topped to the ceiling with a much lighter shade of the same color. Sitting upon the top edge of the dark paint were pairs of stenciled elephants holding trunks. Above the single window hung a white curtain with pink stripes as trim. Framed pictures of nursery rhyme characters adorned every wall. A white crib with pink polka-dotted bumpers clung to one wall, a changing table loaded with every imaginable powder, wipe and lotion nearby. Opposite the crib and changing table stood a white dresser with picture frames on each end and an overstuffed chair. Although it looked like a typical nursery, there was something odd that Tom couldn’t place. Then it hit him. Every piece of furniture was adult-sized. This room was designed for him. If Tom had needed any confirmation that his current state had been Nora’s plan all along, and that she intended to keep him this way, this was it. Nothing, not even the pictures she had of him, was enough of a threat to allow this to go on any further. Nora obviously intended to continue his infantile treatment and to humiliate him in even more extreme ways. He was leaving, even if he had to exit in a diaper. But he could wait at least five more minutes. There was no way he could go out in public in a stinky, dirty diaper. He would have Nora endure the unpleasantness of having to change him, then would bolt, consequences be damned. Satisfied with his decision, Tom acted compliant in getting up on the changing table. He was so engrossed in planning his escape that he didn’t notice Nora pulling a heavy, thick strap across his abdomen. Only when he felt the pressure as she tightened it did he realize that he was effectively immobilized, with the clip that would release the strap well out of reach of his hands. His initial panic, though, subsided as he realized that Nora would still be letting him out after the change, and that his plans did not have to change. Nora stood by the changing table looking down at Tom with a smug and satisfied smile. With her right hand, she began to massage his crotch, effectively lubricating his penis with his own waste. Despite willing his body to avoid reacting, he could feel an erection starting to build. Thankfully, Nora stopped her ministrations before it could go too far. “So you like your dirty diapers, Katie? That’s good, because you will be spending a lot of time in them for the foreseeable future. I’m sure it didn’t escape your notice that I went to a considerable amount of trouble, at great expense, to furnish this nursery for you. And I’m sure you think that I was foolish to do so, because you have some hare-brained scheme to escape. You’re going to have to rethink any such idea, little girl. As damning as the pictures are of you, I wanted more insurance against any thought of resistance on your part. “Do you remember that sperm sample you so generously donated while I was shaving your privates this morning? You’ll be happy to know that it has been safely stored and hidden away somewhere where it will remain fresh for years, if necessary. If my sister’s baby husband ever decided to grow up without Aunt Nora’s consent, or behaves badly enough, your semen will find its way into the panties of a very sexy 17-year-old girl who lives down the street. I hear she’s quite the actress in the local school productions, and convincing the authorities of an attempted rape would be a piece of cake. So let me ask you, Katie, what’s worse, four or five weeks peering out from behind the bars of a crib, or 20 years behind real jail bars?” Tom couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even if he could beat any charges brought against him, there were always people who would consider him guilty, or at the very least tainted. That, combined with the photographs of him Nora had, would cost him his job, his marriage, his friends and any standing he may have in the community. It would follow him wherever he went. He would be ruined. Nora could see Tom thinking it through, and read his thought process perfectly. “I see you’ve realized that you really don’t have any option here other than to submit to whatever I demand of you, is that correct?” Tom nodded. “Good. Let’s start by adding to our earlier set of rules. You will, of course, continue to behave as any drooling, incontinent infant would act. You are not old enough to know that you have any choice but to do what I have you do, no matter how embarrassing it may be for you. And,” here Nora smiled broadly, “you can be assured that there will be ample embarrassment. “Your diet will consist solely of pureed foods; nothing solid will pass your lips. Before long this will have the effect of making your stools soft and a bit runny, and also much more difficult to control. I wouldn’t be surprised if you start soiling yourself without being able to stop it within a week. During your waking hours, you will also be drinking a bottle every hour. Usually it will be formula but I might be nice occasionally and give you juice. On the other hand, if you’re bad, I may just have to fill it with some of my own fluids, if you know what I mean. All of those liquids will put tremendous pressure on your bladder and it won’t be long before you find it more comfortable to start releasing your bladder as it starts to fill. Over time, this will have the effect of weakening its muscles and you will begin to lose control of your pee as well. “But as I don’t like to leave things to chance, and I’m also not a terribly patient person, I’m going to give you a little assist. A chemist friend of mine has kindly developed a little cocktail that will be added to every bottle you drink. A healthy dose of one drug will have the effect of deadening the nerves that signal the brain that the bladder needs to be emptied; a second drug will do the same for the receptors in your anal wall. I’m afraid that it won’t take too many doses before you will find yourself peeing and shitting yourself without any idea that you had to go. Just like a baby. Appropriate, don’t you think? “But the contents of your bottles will have one more element to them. Since I’ve decided to make you into a baby girl, it simply isn’t right that you should have a functioning penis. So my friend has added high doses of estrogen and anti-androgens as well, which will virtually replace any testosterone production with female hormones. Your penis will stop functioning and will begin to get smaller, hopefully to infant size by the time we’re done. It’s reversible, of course, but as long as you are under my care you will have the plumbing of a baby. It’s not possible to give you a vagina, but I can at least take away your manhood. Those particular drugs may have an additional consequence, but we won’t get into that now.” Tom closed his eyes, wishing that this was all a bad dream. There was no way to avoid what was going to happen to him. He could only wonder if there was some way he could make Nora pay down the road. “As a girl, you won’t be wearing pants. You have a wardrobe that most baby girls would die for. All frilly dresses, or pink onesies, with lots of hair bows and rhumba panties and everything that will make you as cute as a button. “Finally, since you will be under my care for at least five weeks, you can’t expect me to be a hermit in my own house. We will be going out, and people will see you in your diapers and infantile attire. You even have your own stroller! I can’t wait for the first time a pretty girl—maybe one of your students-- leans over to check you out and pinches your cheeks. Or the first time you drop a smelly load into your diaper in public and have to be taken to the ladies’ room for a change. There are so many ‘firsts’ to look forward to. You’ll be the talk of the town. “And speaking of pretty girls, that cheerleader I mentioned earlier? She really does exist, you know. Her name is Megan, and she’s volunteered to be your babysitter during those times when I need to go out and can’t take you with me. She’s very excited about the idea and is looking forward to treating you just like a living doll. She wants to dress you up, make your hair look all pretty, apply makeup so that you look like Barbie, the whole works. She’s promised to invite her friends over to help. You’ll be getting a lot of female attention, but unfortunately won’t be able to respond to it in the way that you would like. I’m sure the girls will have a good laugh comparing your shrunken pee-pee to those they’ve seen on members of the football team. “By the time your precious wifey comes back, she’ll find that her dear husband has been transformed into as near a real baby girl as is possible. Sex will be out of the question until the effect of the hormones wears off, but she probably wouldn’t want to even try with the risk that you will pee or poop all over her during the act. No, her first job will be to try to potty train you. How will it feel to have your wife wipe off your messy bottom, or to take you out to the car to change you after you soak your pants at the grocery store? She’ll also have to introduce solid foods very slowly, as your system will have adjusted to only digesting mush. She’ll have to see you through all the stages of infancy through adulthood, only compressed into a much shorter time span. Do you think she’ll raise you as a girl this time? You could discover the joys of a female’s puberty, and have to wear tampons and bloody pads. Although given what you’re wearing in your diapers, maybe you wouldn’t think they were so bad. “Speaking of diapers, I guess you’ve stewed in that one long enough. You’ll notice I didn’t get one of those new, fancy pails that wraps each soiled diaper in plastic and promises to reduce nursery odors. I want anyone who walks into your nursery to be assailed by the usual smells of a baby, and that includes the fragrance of your eliminations. They’ll be no doubt before they even see you that you are a complete baby in the toileting department. And guess what—your body will take on the same perfume as your room. Over time, as you sit in a urine-soaked or dirty diaper with regularity, the odors of your pee and poo will begin to soak into your skin. They’ll mix with the sweet smell of the thick pink baby lotion I’ll smear all over your body to keep your skin fresh, or maybe the baby oil I’ll apply once in awhile, and of course you will never be without a healthy amount of baby powder. Throw in the scented baby wipes as well. Your breath will smell of formula; your hair of baby shampoo. In short, you will no longer have that ‘manly’ smell about you. Your signature scent will be eau de infant. I don’t know how long that will last once you’ve soiled your last diaper. Weeks, I would think. Every time you enter a room, people will be looking around for the baby.” Tom could think of a lot of appropriate replies, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He was in this madwoman’s control and didn’t want to do anything that would make it worse. Nora lifted his dress up and out of the way before pulling his diaper cover off. Tom couldn’t understand how she tolerated the stench; she addressed the task as if this were any everyday occurrence. And he realized it had been, only with Sean. This was the same thing, only more so. Nora un-taped both sides of the diaper and used it to remove as much of the mess as possible, then began the odious task of cleaning him up with baby wipes. When his bottom was clean, she balled up the diaper and leaned over to deposit it into the diaper pail. Tom was almost grateful as she placed a new diaper beneath his bottom, although she only did so with the remark that it was necessary in case he had an accident during the change. He concentrated hard on not becoming erect while she moved his penis back and forth, then up and down as she poked the wipe into every fold. Finally, she pronounced him clean. “I hope you enjoyed your first diaper change, Katie. We’re going to be repeating that process six, seven or maybe even ten times a day for how long, five weeks? That could be over three hundred diaper changes. Unless, of course, I decide to just leave you in your nasty messes to let you experience diaper rash. That would be kind of fun. For me anyway.” Nora slathered baby lotion over Tom’s bottom, then squirted a big glob on his shaft. She smirked as she spread the lotion from the base of his penis up to the head, then back again. Tom could feel stirrings, and was horrified when Nora repeated the process, this time squeezing a bit. Try as he might, he couldn’t suppress his natural response. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, enjoying the sensations tingling through his body, in part against his will yet he didn’t want it to stop. Then it did stop. Nora leaned down and whispered into Tom’s ear. “Remember that feeling, baby. Soon it will be a distant memory.” Tom kept his eyes shut; he didn’t want to look into her face. He felt Nora pull the diaper tight, heard the tapes being opened and was soon snug into his new diaper. Nora began pulling his panties back up, but he quickly realized they were not the soft diaper cover of earlier. These were plastic and had elasticized leg openings. He guessed that he had dirtied the cover. At this moment, what difference did it make? “Okay, baby, all clean for now. Let’s go back to your playpen until dinner.” Tom crawled after Nora, bumping down the stairs on his bottom. The living room still stunk and he wished he could go play in Sean’s room. Nora left but returned immediately with a baby bottle, handing it to Tom before turning and exiting the room. Tom eyed the bottle suspiciously. There was nowhere to pour it out that Nora wouldn’t discover, and the consequences of that action would be extreme. He sighed, decided that a solution would come to him in time, and laid on his back to begin drinking his way back to babyhood. XVII. Days later Tom was no closer to a solution, and was growing increasingly worried with every bottle he drank. For now, the best he could do was to actively work on maintaining control over his bladder and bowels to counteract any effects of the drugs in his formula. Whenever he felt the need to pee, which was often, he would release a little urine, purposely stop, then start and stop several more times. For awhile, his success at this exercise gave him confidence that he would not succumb to the drug. Just this morning, though, as he relaxed after stopping the flow the first time, his bladder released and emptied before he could stop it. He also was more than a little damp in the morning and was having trouble remembering if he woke up during the night to pee. And then during his bath yesterday, Nora had chastised him for peeing into the water just after she had washed him and he had no idea he had gone. He thinks she was playing with his mind, but then again wasn’t so sure. Surprisingly, he was maintaining complete control over his bowel movements. He thought that might be the first thing to go. A part of him, though, almost wished that he didn’t have to consciously soil his diaper. It was more humiliating to knowingly do it than if he really didn’t have any warning that it was coming. He did notice that his stools were getting looser and wondered if that would make it harder to control. At the moment, he at least took a little pride in keeping this one vestige of adulthood. Once he did mess himself, that feeling of maturity took a quick nosedive, especially since Nora would usually make him sit in it for at least an hour before she would change him. His bigger concern at this point was boredom. The life of an infant gave very few opportunities for mental stimulation. For awhile Tom did puzzles in his head but quickly grew tired of that, and found it harder to concentrate on them as time passed. Sean had long ago stopped seeing Tom as a potential playmate and would not share his toys. He had to do something or he would go crazy. He took a new interest in the baby toys that Nora would place in his playpen. They were nothing of consequence, mainly blocks or “learning” toys aimed at 12-month-old children, but he tried to find creative ways to use them. He had no idea that to any stranger seeing him interact with the toys, he appeared to be like any other baby discovering new skills through play. Today, though, none of the old toys could hold his interest. He was barely halfway into the first week of his five-week sentence as a baby and he couldn’t imagine how he could make it. He needed some variety to the routine. Something different. Something to take his mind off how bored he was. Minutes later, he would be reminded of the old saying “Be careful what you wish for,” as Nora strode into the room. “Katie, we’ve been cooped up in this house for too long now. It’s time that we got out for some fresh air. And,” here she pinched her nose, “the air in here hasn’t been anything close to fresh thanks to you. Sean wants to go to the park, which I think is a fine idea. You’re coming with us.” Tom blanched. Certainly he knew that his public debut would come at some point, but now that he was facing it he was in a panic. Any embarrassment he had felt up to this point would pale in comparison to being seen by complete strangers. Not that he had any choice in the matter, but for the thousandth time he tried to find some crack in Nora’s plan that would get him out of this. “Come on, let’s go to the nursery to get you dressed.” Tom crawled up the stairs after Nora, completely despondent. Once there, he dejectedly allowed Nora to pull off his shirt and to pull on a blue and white sundress, which to his dismay came down only to just below his diaper. Any movement on his part would show it off. As if to accentuate Tom’s thoughts, Nora produced a matching diaper cover, then topped it off with a sun bonnet with lace trim across the brim. Tom now knew that exposure of his diaper would be redundant. Anyone seeing him would just assume such a big baby was wearing one. Nora led him back downstairs, where Sean was waiting by the front door. Five seconds later, Tom was outside the house for the first time since he had first arrived. He was startled to see a stroller sitting on the sidewalk. At first appearance, it looked like any other baby stroller. But there must have been some magic in the engineering, because Nora guided him into it and, by arranging his legs at a certain angle, he fit into it with very little discomfort. He said a silent thanks as Nora pulled the top over it to shield him from the sun, as it also allowed him to be at least a bit less conspicuous. Tom felt Nora sling his diaper bag over the handle, and the walk to the park began. Sean ran ahead excitedly and seemed impatient as he had to stop to wait for Nora and Tom to catch up. Despite the nice weather, they met very few people on their way, and no one looked closely enough to notice anything unusual. Tom was astonished that he didn’t attract the attention of the casual passerby and began to hope that he would be left in the stroller once at the park, where his true age might remain hidden. His luck seemed to be holding as the park came into view. There were a few older kids on the monkey bars in the far section of the playground, which did not appear to have any equipment that a boy of Sean’s age could use, and that issue became moot anyway as the kids left while they were still a few minutes away. The only other occupants were a mother watching over a child in the sandbox. So of course Nora headed directly for….the swings. Tom realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled. He might just get away without any damage during this outing. He was allowed to sit in the stroller sucking on a pacifier as Nora pushed Sean on the swing. At first Sean was all smiles, but as his mother refused to push him as high as the big kids could go, he grew bored. He dragged his feet until the swing came to a stop and bolted in the direction of the sandbox. Tom sighed. He cursed himself for jinxing his luck as Nora turned the stroller and pushed him to the edge of the sand, which was held within a short, circular concrete wall. Nora put the brakes on the stroller, handed Sean a pail and shovel, then came to the front of the stroller. Tom shook his head in an effort to sway her from taking him out, but to no avail. Nora’s hands pulled him by the sides and Tom was forced to lean up and out before swinging his legs over the side. She guided him down to the sand, sat down on the wall next to him, and handed him his own set of sand toys. The other mother was seated about fifteen feet to their left and although Tom avoided looking in her direction, he could feel the heat of her gaze. He finally braved a subtle glance from under the top of his bonnet and was horrified to see her walking in their direction. He looked back down and pretended to be building a castle. “I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but…” the woman began before going silent. Nora, far from being insulted, picked up her cue. “No, that’s alright, I understand that his isn’t something you see every day. She is my brother-in-law. She’s been pouting and demanding and her behavior has been completely infantile, so my sister turned her over to me to discipline. This treatment seemed appropriate.” The woman seemed to accept the explanation without judgment. “Well, yes, I was curious. And while it seems, how should I say it, unusual to say the least, now that I think about it I kind of wish I could use that sort of punishment on my husband now and then. He might think twice before acting like a spoiled toddler. My name’s Jenny.” Nora took the offered hand and smiled. “I’m Nora, and this is Baby Katie. Katie, say hello.” Tom looked up at the woman and gave a shy wave. Jenny was actually very pretty and a few years younger than Nora. Tom tried to avert his eyes from her massive chest, and finally pulled his attention back to the sand. He concentrated on his building in order to avoid getting caught in an inappropriate leer. Nora continued the conversation. “Over there, too proud to be caught playing with babies, is my son Sean. He thinks he is a big boy now.” “Oh, I know how that goes. This is Ben,” Jenny said as she nodded toward the toddler playing at her feet. “He’s only twenty months, but all of a sudden thinks he is a big boy too. Yesterday we were at my sister’s house and he found my niece’s sippy cup filled with apple juice. I’ve been nursing him, and hoped to keep it up until he turned two, but now he refuses to latch on to my breast. So yesterday he gave me up cold turkey. Last week he decided that he didn’t need diapers anymore. He had a few accidents the first few days but has been perfect ever since. I didn’t even have to try to potty train him. In truth, I hadn’t planned to start for awhile yet. In a way I wasn’t ready to give up my baby.” Tom saw Nora send a nasty smile in his direction and decided to tune out the rest of the conversation. He began to actually enjoy building castles in the sand, although he was careful not to make them too sophisticated for fear of being punished for adult behavior later. After days of such extreme tedium, this was a welcome distraction and he became completely engrossed. Soon, however, he looked over at Ben, playing just a few feet away. Jenny might think he’s potty trained, Tom thought, but that odor starting to rise up suggests otherwise. He obviously just soiled himself. Immediately after that thought entered his mind, the women halted their conversation and simultaneously sniffed the air. They both looked at Ben. “Oh dear, I guess I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jenny said, abashed. “Come here dear, let me check your pants.” Ben gave his mom a look that made it clear he was insulted, but stood up, moved in front of her, and turned around. Jenny pulled the elastic of his pants back, hooked the waistband of his training pants with one finger, and peered down his backside. “That’s odd. I thought for sure…” Jenny broke off in mid-sentence and looked directly into Tom’s eyes. Nora also turned her attention to Tom. What?, he thought. Don’t look at me. But then he felt it. There was something mushy sitting in the seat of his diaper. He was so involved in his play and in trying to avoid drawing attention to himself that he didn’t even realize what he had done. No, he thought to himself. Don’t do it, please. Go back to your talk. But Nora had other plans. Bending down, she lifted the back of Tom’s dress, pulled his diaper back and took a whiff. “Ugh,” was all Tom heard. He could feel himself blush ten shades of red. On the bright side, at least now they might go home. “I’m so sorry,” he heard Nora say. “I guess we had better head for home so that I can change her.” “Nothing to be sorry about, that’s what babies do. I guess I was just a little surprised that he…I mean she…actually uses her diapers. I’ll have to apologize to Ben.” Nora began to stand, but Jenny asked her to sit back down for a minute. “I’m hoping that you don’t go just yet. I know we just met, but I have a very personal favor to ask of you.” Jenny stopped, as if she wasn’t sure how to go on. “As I told you earlier, my boy gave up nursing just yesterday, with no warning and no chance to wind down my milk production. I don’t have a pump. It’s been painful to feel so engorged with no way to relieve the pressure. I’m afraid the odor of Katie’s dirty diaper just triggered me to let down. My milk is starting to flow for the first time in a day. How would you feel about letting Katie nurse to help me get rid of my milk?” It was the first time that Tom had seen Nora at a loss for words. Tom couldn’t imagine that she would agree to this most unusual request, but still sent telepathic signals in Nora’s direction. “It’s time to go home. It’s time to go home.” “I’m sorry, but I think I have to say no.” Tom cheered inside. “Even though I see Katie as a baby, others might not be as understanding. We could get in some trouble doing something like that out in public like this.” “I understand, but if that’s your only concern, I live right across the street. I could do it in private and we could sit and continue our chat. I don’t get a whole lot of adult conversation nowadays. And Katie would be doing me a huge favor.” Tom was frightened to see Nora’s countenance change. He knew what she was going to say before she said it. “Well, in that case, certainly. Lead the way.” Nora guided Tom back into the stroller, where the confined space accentuated the odor of his diaper. How could he not have known? Within minutes he was being pushed to what he was sure would be one of the most humiliating times of his, or anyone else’s, life. XVIII. Jenny really did live right across the street and in a matter of minutes the group was at her front steps. Nora helped Tom out of the stroller and he carefully crawled up the stairs and over the threshold under the watchful eyes of the two women. Jenny giggled a bit as she watched Tom’s pantied bottom ascend the stairs. “Wow. You really do have her acting just like a baby. How did you do it? I mean, it’s obviously not something any man would consent to, so why does she do it?” Nora smiled. “Let’s just say that she is very motivated to do whatever I say. At this point, I’d rather not go into details. And frankly,” her voice dropped to a stage whisper, “she’s not enough of a man to resist anyway.” Her explanation seemed to satisfy Jenny, and they followed the children into the house. The home was small but neat, with only a scattering of toys littering the living room floor. The two boys instantly disappeared into parts unknown as Tom and the two mothers remained behind. Jenny invited Nora to sit, but Nora hesitated. “I think I had better change Katie’s diaper before I get too comfortable. Can you tell me where would be a good place to do that?” “Oh, if you don’t mind, could you wait until we finish nursing to do that? My boobs aren’t willing to wait and my bra is already saturated. I hate to ask you to leave your baby in a dirty diaper, but I’m really, really uncomfortable right now.” Nora actually seemed delighted at the request. “Not a problem at all. I think it does Katie good to feel some of the less desirable aspects to being an infant, and she should know what it feels like when Mommy is too busy to change her pants every time she piddles or poops. So how can I help?” Jenny sat down near one end of the long couch and propped a pillow up under one arm. Nora guided Tom over to and onto the couch, where he lay with his head on the pillow and his body extended to the far end. He felt stirrings below as he nestled in close to Jenny’s bosom and felt the warmth of her skin. He watched with wide eyes as she unbuttoned her blouse, then opened the cup of her nursing bra. A large, pendulous breast spilled out, with drops of white dangling enticingly from the nipple. Tom instinctively opened his mouth as she moved her breast toward it, finally pulling his head forward until he felt it enter, and fill, his entire mouth. He ignored the sexual arousal this caused and began to suck. “No, not like that. You have to create a suction, then almost pump it out. Use your tongue under my nipple. Almost, now try just a little harder. Ahhh, that’s it.” Tom felt like an idiot having to be taught how to suckle, but soon got into a rhythm and felt the warm, sweet fluid begin to slide past his taste buds and down his throat. He closed his eyes and fell into a sort of trance, forgetting his embarrassment and focusing on the enjoyment of this most infantile activity. The milk tasted better than his usual formula, and was drug-free. He began to get drowsy as he nursed but didn’t want to stop. All too soon, he felt Jenny’s finger enter the corner of his mouth to pop the seal and she removed his breast. He blushed as she smiled down at him. “It’s as if you’ve been doing this all your life. Now slide down a bit so that you can empty the other side.” Tom did so and soon found himself again in a happy stupor, which was only interrupted as he felt himself peeing without control. Who cares, he thought. This is heaven. Jenny popped herself free again, and began to put herself back together. Nora took this as her clue. “Okay, just so that his perfume doesn’t take over your whole home, I think I should change him now.” She grabbed his diaper bag as she spoke. “Why don’t you let me help. I know it sounds silly, but I had no warning before Ben gave up diapers and no chance to prepare for it. I feel kind of nostalgic about being able to change a baby. Changing Katie would give me the chance to do it one more time, and given what a mess she probably is would most likely cure me of any desires that Ben was still diapered.” Rather than go into another room, Julie brought out a changing pad and some wipes and had Tom lie down in the center of the room. Nora seemed all too glad to have someone else take on this odious task. Julie un-taped the diaper and pulled the front down, throwing her head back as the odor trapped within was released into the room. “Whew! You are a little stinker, Katie.” Jenny began to wipe Tom’s bottom as she spoke. “I can’t imagine any man allowing himself to be dressed up like a little girl, much less wearing and using diapers. Although with this as your main claim to manhood, I guess your Auntie here was right to insist on dresses.” Nora chuckled as Jenny pinched Tom’s penis between her fingers and gave her a look that clearly said, “Is this all there is?” “Well, don’t you worry little baby. Jenny will get you all cleaned up and back in a nice fresh didie.” Jenny pulled the soiled diaper out from underneath Tom’s butt, then pushed it to the side temporarily while she unfolded a clean diaper and put it in place, drawing the front up without taping it. She rolled the old diaper up in a tight ball and used the tapes to close it up. Turning back to Tom, she began to pull one side up to tape it when he heard her exclaim “Oh!” He had no idea what startled her until he felt warm urine dribbling down his balls and into his crack. He couldn’t believe he peed while having his diaper changed by a complete stranger. “Don’t worry about it,” Nora said with a laugh. “It’s the only clean one I brought. He’ll just have to sit in it for awhile.” Jenny finished the tape job, lowered Tom’s dress and sat him up, squeezing his nose playfully before removing the diaper from the room. When she returned, she was carrying a small box. “I don’t know what you have at home, but here are some of Ben’s baby toys that he’s outgrown. You can borrow them for Katie, if you like, then just return them when…well, if…she ever grows up.” Nora stood to thank Jenny, and they chatted briefly while Tom looked for a hole in which to crawl. Soon Nora was calling out to Ben and they made their way back down the stairs, with Tom reassuming his position in the stroller. Thankfully, they did not return to the park and headed for home. Tom tried to evaluate his feelings about being breastfed—while humiliating, it was also somehow comforting and even a little titillating, so to speak. And hormone free. As if on cue, Nora handed Tom a bottle of formula to drink. Despite being bloated from his recent nurse, he put the nipple in his mouth. XIX. More time passed, how much Tom had no idea. Was it a week? Two? He had given up on keeping track of how many nights he had spent in the crib. It was difficult to keep mentally acute while living a life that consisted almost entirely of eating, drinking, sleeping, wetting and pooping. His mind often felt fuzzy and he wondered if Nora had added something more to his formula to make it harder for him to think straight. In any event, he wished he knew how much time was left before Rita came back. It would give him a goal. His control over his toileting had disappeared completely. Tom couldn’t even remember it happening, he just realized one day that he hadn’t consciously participated in his voiding for some time. Usually he would at least notice himself peeing once it started, although it was disturbing how often Nora would change his diaper and he hadn’t felt himself going since the last change. He didn’t have that problem with his poop. He would feel it come out in a rush and, being so soft, it would quickly spread across his entire diaper area. He always knew when he had a dirty diaper. So far he resisted crying to be changed because he knew that was what Nora wanted, to bring him one further step into infancy, but she punished him for his stubbornness by leaving him in his stinky pants for hours. After their venture out to the park, Nora would push Tom around in the stroller almost on a daily basis, but again the design of the stroller didn’t bring any undue attention to him. Twice they had visited Jenny and he had nursed as before, but her milk production soon slowed and then halted, so he was spared any further ignominy. In a way, though, snuggling up to her breast and latching on to her nipple was comforting and a bit arousing. The last time he was breastfed, though, he noticed that he hadn’t felt the same tingle in his groin that had given him some limited pleasure the first two times. Was he just adapting to the situation or was it a sign of something more ominous? Nora had often stroked his member with baby oil during diaper changes, just enough to tease him to the point of denial, but after a few days he had stopped responding. At that point he thought it was because he had finally conquered his sexual feeling while being in such a humiliating position, but again he looked back and wondered if the hormones she was feeding him had something to do with it. He decided to try to get his hand inside of his diaper to see if he could successfully masturbate, although Nora always taped him up so tight it would be a challenge. He also hesitated because of what messes might be waiting for him around his penis. He was just to the point of trying to manipulate his hand down the front of his diaper when Nora walked up to the side of his crib. Tom had been so focused on the task ahead that he hadn’t heard her come in, and shivered at the consequences if she had caught him trying to play with himself. It struck him then as well that it had been so long since he had cum that it might not take much to bring on ejaculation, and he would not want to even think about the punishment she would inflict if she found cum mingled among his pee. “Time to get up from your nap, Katie. Do you need your diaper changed? Silly me, of course you do. You can’t stay dry for more than a couple minutes at a time now, can you? Are you even aware that you spend far more time in used diapers than you do in clean ones? I’ll bet that of the 24 hours in a day, you are sitting in wet or dirty diapers for at least 22 of them. It’s probably only a matter of time before you get diaper rash. I’ve noticed that your little bottom is a bit red lately, but decided not to put any cream on it yet. I think it would be an important part of your experience as a baby to discover what happens when your naughty caregiver gets careless. “I’m sure you also have gotten so used to your nursery that you haven’t even realized how babified it has become. Your toys are scattered all over the floor, some stray powder sits on the carpet below the changing table, and the diaper pail is overflowing with your nasty didies. And as we predicted, it smells just like a baby that pees and poops herself. In other words, nasty. Congratulations, baby Katie, I think you have left adulthood and become a true infant.” Her words stung, but Tom couldn’t really argue with them. And it was true; he might notice the odor when he was messy, but over the course of the day his nose didn’t pick up the usual smells she was talking about. And he accepted his hourly bottles without complaint, allowed himself to be fed disgusting soft foods, didn’t fight being attired in whatever frilly or girly clothing Nora chose, and sat placidly in a baby stroller as he was pushed around out in public. He really had reached the nadir of his life as a man. Or former man. He had to find a way out. He was at the bottom and there was nowhere to go but up. Or so he thought. “I have some exciting news, Katie. Auntie has a date tonight! I get to go out for dinner, and dancing and maybe, if things work out, I’ll go back to his place. Just think, after spending so much time with you, I may smell the scent of a real man. Instead of pulling his dress up and his diapers down, I’ll strip off his pants, pull off his briefs, which won’t be full of piss and shit, and will gaze at his long, thick, throbbing penis. What a joy that will be after dealing with your little worm-sized girly thing. And we’ll have rough, passionate sex over and over again until we’re both panting and too tired to move. I’ll be sore for a week. “That’s my evening. Do you want to know what yours will be like? You get to show off your diaper-messing skills for a babysitter! That’s right, little one, you finally get to meet Megan, the cheerleader I told you about. And she’s thrilled for the chance to take care of you. I imagine for weeks she’s been thinking of what she’ll do to an oversized sissy baby, and now she gets to put her ideas into motion. I almost pity you.” Tom was in despair. He had perfected the knack of conveniently forgetting all of the things Nora had told him early on about what to expect in his life as a baby so as not to get too depressed. As a result, every time she followed through on one of her promises, he would be blindsided. And this was a big one. Nora pulled Tom’s t-shirt off and replaced it with a simple dress. At least it was one of the less offensive ones, he thought. Nora began to bring him over to the changing table when she suddenly came to a halt. “Oh my goodness, look at the time. Megan will be here soon, and I have to get ready for my date! Quick, let’s get you into the playpen so that I can shower.” Nora guided Tom downstairs, made sure he was situated, then hurried back up to the bathroom. Soon Tom could hear the shower running and he pouted as he considered the evening ahead. Maybe he’d get lucky and the babysitter would be too busy talking to her boyfriend on the phone to pay him much attention. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sean peek around the corner before darting away again. They had hardly interacted since Tom became a full-time infant. Tom heard feet scurry across the floor upstairs and began to think back to when he would watch Rita get ready for a night out. He was fascinated by the whole routine of applying makeup, knowing that she was putting her best face forward just for him. Then she would slip out of her robe, beautiful in just a bra and panties, before carefully maneuvering pantyhose up her legs. She would debate just which dress to wear, which jewelry to match with it, and then would spritz just the tiniest bit of beguiling perfume on her neck, which by the end of the night would make Tom putty in her hands. Now Nora was going through the same thing, but for some strange man, while Tom was sitting in a saturated diaper, wearing his own version of a dress, waiting for some pimply teen to babysit him. It just wasn’t fair. Nora was descending the stairs, still fiddling with an earring, when the doorbell rang. Tom cringed with dread as she approached the door. Here we go, he thought, please help me get through this night. He hoped that Nora’s description of Megan as a knockout was an exaggeration. Somehow the humiliation would be lessened if his babysitter were on the plain side. No such luck. Tom had a chance to view Megan while she chatted with Nora just inside the door. The girl was stunning. About 5’6” tall with pure blond hair that cascaded just past her shoulders. Her chest pushed against the skimpy top she had selected and Tom could see that her nubile, C-cup breasts were not constrained by a bra. Ragged shorts ended high up her muscular thighs. Her bare legs were long and slender, her butt tight. Incongruous high heel shoes completed her outfit but somehow worked on her. She wore no makeup to hide her peach complexion, and her deep green eyes seemed to portend a wisdom beyond her years. She was every high school boy’s wet dream. Snap out of it, Tom told himself. First of all, she’s underage. And in seconds she will get her first glimpse of you, sitting in a playpen in an oversized baby dress. From what Nora has said, she will probably smell you before she sees you. Her first impression of you will not be anything reflective of your desires that she see you as a man. He waited for the inevitable. It wasn’t long before Megan finished her conversation with Nora, who hurried off to finish getting ready. The confrontation was delayed at least for a minute when Sean bolted into the hallway to greet the babysitter, who gave him a hug and ruffled his hair. Sean then took back off to wherever he had come from. It was time. The blond-haired beauty turned her full attention to Tom, walking over to stand by the side of the playpen with a huge grin on her face. She seemed to tower over him. Tom froze and wished he could be swallowed into the ground. Megan knelt down to meet him at eye level, although Tom had to use all of his willpower not to let his gaze wander down to her marvelous chest. “So this is the baby I’ve been hearing so much about,” she began. “I’ve been so anxious to meet you, Katie. You are just adorable! I think we’re going to have so much fun together tonight. I do love babies, you know. Before we get better acquainted, though, let me check your diaper.” Megan leaned over the side rail so that she had better access to feel his crotch, and in doing so her breasts brushed Tom’s lips, then for a few precious seconds hovered a tantalizing inch from his mouth. He shivered as her hand touched the outside of his padded crotch. “Just as I thought, you need changing. Unfortunately your Aunt wanted me to feed you kids dinner first thing, so that will have to wait. C’mon, let’s get you into your high chair so that I can keep an eye on you while I make dinner.” Just as Nora did, Megan gently took Tom by the arm and assisted him over the side of the playpen. Rather than lead, though, she let Tom crawl ahead of her so that she had a clear view of his bulky and droopy bottom. Tom thought he heard a giggle. Once he was secured in the high chair, Megan ignored him as she went about putting some food together. Sean joined Tom at the table in his usual chair and it soon became clear through his casual give-and-take with Megan that he was accustomed to her watching him. Soon Megan put a plate of what appeared to be a ham sandwich in front of Sean, who didn’t pause before hungrily digging in. Tom’s stomach growled. “You’re next, baby.” Megan disappeared from view again, but this time the only noises Tom heard were those of various Tupperware containers being opened. He had dim hopes that the babysitter wouldn’t know about his strictly infantile diet, but apparently Megan had been briefed and came prepared. Soon she appeared in front of him with a bib, which she took great glee in tying around his neck. “We don’t want any messes on your pretty dress, Katie.” Megan pulled a chair close to Tom, avoiding Sean’s exit from the table, before producing a partitioned baby plate that appeared to be adorned with princesses around the rim. Each of the three sections was filled to overflowing with unidentifiable mush. One brown, one green and one of a color Tom had never seen in nature. Megan dipped a small princess spoon into the brown pile. “This is the special plate I use to feed all of the little girls I sit. And these are my own special recipes for big babies who want to grow up to be just like their babysitter. That’s what you want, isn’t it Katie? To grow up to have big tits just like mine?” Tom opened his mouth slightly in shock at her frankness, and Megan used the opportunity to shove the first spoonful of goop into it. Tom recoiled. As bad as everyday baby food tasted, this was far, far worse. It was probably the most vile thing he had ever eaten. His expression must have revealed his revulsion, because a cruel smile crossed Megan’s beautiful face. “What’s the matter, baby, don’t you like it? You should. It’s chock full of all sorts of things that are good for a growing girl, like asparagus, beets, some old chicken I found in the fridge and I forget what else. Well, I do remember at least one other ingredient. I know Nora is helping you become the girl you’ve always wanted to be by giving you hormones, so I thought I’d help. I can’t get the stuff she does, but I do produce my own, you know. So I added a little of my very own estrogen into the mix. Just think how many boys would pay to taste my pee and you get it for free.” Tom was horrified. As Megan brought another spoonful of the nasty mix to his mouth, he shut it tight, bringing a frown to her face. She pinched his nose tight and within seconds he had to gasp for air, which brought the spoon deep into his mouth. He tried resisting one more time with the same result, then knew he was beaten. “You’ll be punished for that later, you brat,” Megan whispered. Neither the yellow nor the mystery-colored food tasted any better, in fact they were probably worse. The thought that this innocent-looking angel had prepared a concoction containing spoiled food and urine was too much to imagine. And she was planning to punish him later? He thought about complaining to Nora before realizing what folly that would be. Tom felt sick to his stomach by the time dinner was over. Megan was wiping his face roughly with a wipe when he heard Nora call ‘goodbye’ from the front door. His babysitter turned to him with a wicked grin. “She’s gone. Now the fun can begin.” XX. Megan seemed to have no problem ignoring Sean, putting in a video to keep him occupied. Tonight, clearly, was all about playing with her new toy. She directed Tom to get down from his high chair and to crawl upstairs. Tom hoped that he would finally get his diaper changed, as it hung heavily off of his hips. He didn’t even stop to consider that he had probably wet it several times during dinner without noticing. He was relieved when he was pulled up onto the changing table and strapped in. “Bath time, Katie. It’s going to take some doing, but we’re going to try to get you all fresh and sweet-smelling like a good little girl.” Megan left the room briefly and Tom could hear the bath water begin to run. It wasn’t long before it stopped and the teenager returned. She pulled down his diaper cover but paused before untaping his saturated diaper. She looked down on him as he lay helpless on the table. “I just want you to know that I think it’s just hysterical that a grown man has been reduced to a baby, and not even a baby boy. A baby girl. Do you enjoy wearing your diapies, little sissy? How does it feel to go weeks without being allowed to use the toilet? I’ll bet you love the feel of your slippery, stinky shit sliding around inside of your Pampers. And look, you’re about to get the prettiest girl in school to touch your little dickie.” Megan un-taped on side, then the other and pulled the diaper down without removing it from under Tom’s behind. The reek of ammonia immediately filled the air, but didn’t seem to phase her. Instead, Megan appeared entranced by the sight of Tom’s penis. Tom was puzzled; he assumed she had seen many of them so it shouldn’t be that big a deal for her. Megan snickered and held her hand over her mouth to suppress a full-blown laugh. Her eyes met Tom’s. “Wow. I mean, I know what Nora’s been doing but I didn’t expect it to have worked this well this quickly. Or maybe this is your natural state. This is the smallest dick I’ve ever seen. Wait, that’s not quite true. I babysit for a six-month old boy and I think his is tinier, but it would be close. Even the preschoolers I’ve sat for are bigger.” Tom was worried. He really hadn’t taken a look at his crotch for awhile, and couldn’t be sure if Megan was exaggerating in order to humiliate him or if she was being truthful. It wasn’t possible for Nora’s cocktail in his formula to act that soon and that effectively, was it? Lying down as he was, he couldn’t tilt his head up far enough to check it out. Megan reached under the table and pulled out a baby wipe. “I know you’re headed into the tub to get clean, but I have to see something first.” She held his penis up while she wiped it with clean of urine, then kept it in her hand while she disposed of the wipe. Glancing at Tom with a grin, she moved her head down and took his entire member inside of her mouth. If he hadn’t been strapped down tight, Tom would have jumped in the air. She was giving him a blow job! He felt the warmth of her mouth encompass his shaft. She briefly pulled away, spit onto its head then lowered herself back on. Her tongue sensuously licked up and down, then flicked around the base of his penis. She moved slowly, then faster, then slowly again. Tom could feel her every motion. What he couldn’t feel was any response on his part. After about five minutes, Megan stood back up and gave a short laugh. “Just as I suspected. You’re still as soft as when I started. It’s still all of about an inch long. I know from experience that it’s not because I don’t know how to give head. No one has lasted even a few minutes once I get started. You’re not only as incontinent as an infant, you’re as impotent as one too.” Her words deflated Tom’s ego, if there was any left before now. Once again, he had to face reality. At this moment, he had lost the most basic functions of any adult male. He couldn’t control his bladder or his bowels, and apparently had no sexual function. He prayed that the drugs’ effect would disappear immediately after they he stopped ingesting them. Megan disposed of his diaper and led him into the bathroom, still giggling. She helped Tom out of his dress and into the tub, which she had filled only about three inches high, although she had also added a healthy dose of bubble bath. The suds had a pink tinge to them and smelled of gum. “Barbie bubbles,” she called them. Megan took a washcloth and proceeded to scrub Tom thoroughly, starting with his feet. She seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time on his genitals, again snickering as his penis remained limp no matter how much she manipulated it. He jumped slightly as she poked a washcloth-covered finger deep into his rear. “Get used to it, bitch,” she told him. “That’s where a lot of the boys want to go.” Finally, Megan moved upward to his abdominal area. She stopped as she moved the washcloth across his chest and looked at it inquisitively before moving on. She used a small pitcher to pour the gum-scented water over his hair, then put a glop of shampoo onto her hands. It had a powerful floral aroma that only seemed to intensify as she worked it into his scalp. Finally she rinsed him, taking no care at all to avoid getting soap in his eyes. She leaned over and sniffed his skin, proclaiming that they “were getting there.” She drained the water, dried him as well as she could in the tub, then had him roll over the side where she could finish the job. “Did you know that you peed three times during your bath?” she chided him. Tom lowered his head sadly. No, he didn’t. Megan produced a spray bottle from somewhere nearby and spritzed him lightly with its contents. It, too, smelled of flowers. Now he did as well. At Megan’s instruction, Tom crawled back and hoisted himself onto the changing table, once again being strapped in. Megan placed a diaper underneath him, then sprinkled him liberally with powder. “That’s still not enough to get you smelling more like a baby girl. Besides, I want to try something.” Tom groaned. He had never been more humiliated that during the last “thing” she tried. The girl rummaged on the shelves of the changing table before finally bringing up a bottle of baby lotion. She rubbed it onto his legs and arms before moving to his chest. Once there, she was much more deliberate and Tom watched as she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving a point just below his shoulder area. She squirted a dab of the lotion onto the tip of her right index finger, then transferred it to each of his nipples. Megan used both hands as she first softly squeezed them, then slowly moved one finger around the areola, occasionally brushing the tips. Tom at first watched with curiosity, but soon began to feel sensations build. He closed his eyes and focused on them. As Megan played with his nipples he began to feel almost orgasmic. She moved her hands fully over his chest and massaged his breast area, then returned to the nipples. Tom almost couldn’t tolerate the intensity of the sexual feelings she was bringing out in him. Involuntarily, before he could control them, his hips bucked and strained against the strap. Megan immediately stopped her ministrations and a broad smile filled her face. She took a wipe to clean her hands, then turned her attention to Tom. “I knew it. You may not realize it, but you’re starting to grow boobs. They’re not very big yet, but they are noticeable. I’d say you’re in stage two, which is when you get little buds. My experiment was to see how you’d respond when I played with them, like all girls do when they start puberty. And guess what? You acted just like a girl would. You even had a girly orgasm. No, your little johnny didn’t get any harder than it did before. But it did dribble some fluid out. “Congratulations, girly! You’re on your way to becoming a woman, although that usually happens long after you’re potty trained. Just think, before long you’ll get your period. Every month you’ll get that sticky, smelly mess coming out of your vagina and you’ll feel bloated and awful and you’ll think everyone can smell you and know that you’re on the rag. You’ll have to carry tampons and pads in your purse. Although I guess you won’t need them if you’re still in diapers.” Tom felt like crying. His mind was far away as Megan finished diapering him and released him from the changing table. She had him sit in the middle of the nursery floor, naked except for his diaper. “But you’re not a big girl yet, Katie. Right now you’re going to be my baby doll. I’m going to dress you up extra special pretty just like a doll. You’ll be the cutest girl ever!” Megan brought a makeup case over and sat it by Tom’s side. She brushed his hair away from his face, holding it back with bobby pins, as she began to transform him. Tom sat still, his mind still on his breasts, as Megan applied foundation, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara and blush. Soon she was carefully tracing his lips with lipstick. She leaned back, examined her work, then spend more time touching up. Finally satisfied, she stowed the makeup and told Tom not to move as she left the room. She came back minutes later with a bag, from which she produced an outfit that she told him she made herself. It was completely pink, with pink brocade around the shoulders, neckline, chest and waist. The sleeves puffed out impossibly. Small white flowers acted as a belt across the middle. Layers and layers of petticoats peeked out from beneath the dress. Tom automatically lifted his arms as she pulled it over his head, smoothing out the top. She had him stick his legs out from under the crinoline in order to put lacy ankle socks with bows over his feet. Megan finished the look with several hair bows which she clipped into place. As a final touch, she told Tom to hold his hands out and to keep them very still as she painted each nail a baby pink. Finally, she was done. She beamed as she looked at the results of her efforts. Finally she had Tom crawl into Nora’s bedroom so that he could see himself in her full-length mirror. Tom was dumbfounded. If it hadn’t been for his size, he would have looked like the image of a baby doll. Megan had done his makeup to accentuate his eyes in a way that made them look like doe eyes and had his cheeks rosy with blush. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked in amazement. His lips were a bright ruby red, although they were partially hidden from sight as Megan stuck Tom’s ever-present pacifier into his mouth. “Downstairs, now. I want your cousin to see how pretty you are.” Tom bumped himself down the stairs and crawled into his playpen. Megan returned with Sean, whose mouth dropped open at his first sight of the baby. Never one to stick around, however, he then returned to the play room. Tom watched Sean disappear, but was brought back to reality as the flash of a camera dazzled him. Several more flashes quickly followed, and Tom knew that his time as a doll was now safely preserved for all time. “Stay here, Katie,” Megan mocked, as if he had anywhere to go. “I have to get Sean ready for bed.” Tom almost took comfort from the fact that he would be going to bed later than Sean for a change, but recognized the possibility that Megan may not be done with him yet and wanted Sean out of the way. Tom used the time to reflect on how far he had fallen in such a short time. As always, though, with every passing day he seemed to move farther and farther away from any form of escape. He wondered again how much of what Megan had been teasing him about was really true. Eventually Megan returned and told him it was time for bed. A huge sense of relief washed over Tom as he felt close to being away from this torturous teenager. He actually longed for the safety and security of his crib. Rather than put him back up on the changing table get him ready, Megan spread out a blanket on the floor of the nursery. She carefully removed his dress and then washed the makeup off of his cheeks, leaving the mascara in place. She taunted him by promising to bring her friends over next time she babysat, and that she had plans to make him many more outfits. When she was done, she had Tom lay back on the blanket to get changed before bed. Megan noted that his diaper was only damp, but carefully undid the tapes anyway and took his diaper off. “Baby girl, I want to leave you with something of mine so that you will remember me during the night. Tom looked on in befuddlement as Megan unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them off, revealing skin-tight lacy blue panties. She winked at him as she then removed the panties, laying them across his nose. Her scent was strong. She had obviously been sexually aroused by their interaction. Tom still hadn’t worked out what Megan planned to do, but soon found out. To his horror, he watched as she squatted down, positioned the diaper just right, and began to empty her bowels into the seat of the diaper. Once that was done, she released a never-ending stream of urine onto the poop, then moved the diaper around so that it was saturated everywhere. The stink was overwhelming. Megan cleaned herself with a wipe from the changing table before returning to Tom’s side. Without saying a word, she lifted his butt up, pulled the diaper underneath, and pushed him back down. Tom had never been so disgusted as when he felt her still-warm shit hit his bottom and spread up his crack and down between his legs. Megan pulled the soaking wet front of the diaper up, re-fastened the tapes, and made sure they were secure. She smiled wickedly at Tom as she put her hand on his bottom and pushed to make sure that her waste got firmly plastered against his skin. She reached over near her bag and brought out a yellow onesie to put over his diaper. It appeared small, but was made of a stretchy material that pulled taut once it was on. That had the effect of pushing the contents of his diaper up close against him. “Now you have a bit of me inside your diaper, baby girl. You can dream of me while you sleep in my waste.” She pushed Tom’s bottom with her foot and directed him to the crib, where he lay on his back. Megan lifted and locked the side, blew Tom a kiss, and left the room. XXI. Tom had never been so miserable. It was one thing to sit in his own poopy diaper, but infinitely more revolting to sit in a diaper made dirty by someone else. Besides, despite his lack of bowel control, his body was still on a cycle that had him voiding his bowels during the daytime, never at night. He had never spent even part of a night in a dirty diaper. He couldn’t sleep and helped the time pass by assuring himself that once Nora got home, she would check on him, discover his condition, and change him. After an eternity, he heard voices downstairs followed by feet on the stairs. He listened as Nora stopped outside his door, then couldn’t believe it when she continued on. She didn’t even stop in to see me! Probably exhausted from all of that sex, he thought bitterly. He must have slept at some point, because he found himself opening his eyes and having to remember his situation. It didn’t take much reminding, as the stench in the room was overwhelming. His butt was also sore and he was more uncomfortable than he had ever been. He finally decided to swallow his pride and cry like a baby to draw Nora’s attention. His first attempts were feeble and too soft to be heard. He gradually grew louder and more infantile, and was rewarded as he saw the hall light go on and heard the door open. Nora came up to his side, groggily looked down on him, and spoke. “Smells like you had an accident. Tough. Do you know what time it is? I need some sleep. If I hear one peep out of you before I come in again, you’ll stay in that stinky diaper all day.” With that, she left and closed the door tightly. Tom fell into a deep depression, followed a long time later by an uneasy sleep. When he awoke, the sun was shining brightly through his window. The first thing he noticed, after the smell, was the pain. His rear end was on fire, but no less than the inside of his thighs and his balls. His entire diaper area was inflamed and sore. Shifting to find a more less painful position only brought on more pain. As he moved, he noticed that his diaper had leaked during the night. The lower part of his onesie and his crib sheet were both stained with urine and stool. He must have been in that diaper for over twelve hours, he thought, which meant that he had certainly added a lot of fluid to a diaper that started out already at its saturation point. In time, Nora came through the door, dressed for the day but looking a bit bleary-eyed. She immediately recoiled at the odor and shot an accusing glance at Tom. She hurried over to the window and opened it wide. “Look at you. If you ever had any doubt about how infantile you’ve become, take a look at yourself. Pooping and peeing so much in your sleep that your diaper can’t even contain it all. What a mess. Once we get you cleaned up, I think it’s time for a spanking.” Nora left to run the bath water and wrapped a large towel around Tom’s midsection to contain any leakage while he crawled into the bathroom. Lying him down carefully, she un-taped his diaper, rolled it into a ball, and began to clean the remaining mess off of Tom’s bottom. At the first touch of the wipe, Tom let out a howl. “Oh my,” Nora said, sounding almost sympathetic. “I do believe you have diaper rash. A very bad case of it. We’ll take a closer look once you’re clean. Get into the tub and let’s get some warm water on it.” The warmth of the bath gave Tom almost instant relief, but Nora’s gentle cleansing caused intense pain at every touch. Because she had to forego use of the wipes, Nora was forced to drain the dirty water twice before pronouncing him clean enough. She patted him dry as lightly as she could, but each tap caused Tom to shudder. “Well, the good news is I think your rash is punishment enough and that a spanking would border on child abuse. The bad news is you definitely have an extreme case of diaper rash. The best thing for it is to let you go without a diaper, but I don’t need you peeing all over my house. Come along and we’ll set you up until I figure out what to do.” Tom crawled gingerly back to the nursery, feeling odd without a diaper. Nora spread a diaper out over the changing table and had Tom lay face down on the table, his naked butt to the sky with the diaper positioned under his penis to catch any wetness. Not ideal, but it felt better than the alternative. Tom watched Nora strip his crib, holding the foul sheet at arm’s length as she took it out of the room. When she returned she wiped down the mattress, letting it dry before she put a new sheet on top. This one had kittens playing with balls. “We’re in luck,” she finally said when she was done. “When I was downstairs I called Sean’s pediatrician. She had a cancellation and can fit us in right away.” It was a sign of Tom’s increasing acceptance of his babified state that his first reaction was relief that he could have someone help him. Only an instant later did he realize that this meant going out into public, to a baby doctor no less, dressed in a diaper and infantile attire. “Okay Katie, I’m sorry to have to do this, but we can’t leave you unprotected. Tom slowly turned over and bit his lip as Nora taped his diaper shut. He felt a wet spot against his butt where his penis had rested in the diaper moments before. Nora went to the closet and returned with a lime green sun dress with a layer of frills underneath and matching panties with several rows of lace across the bottom. Once dressed, she brushed Tom’s hair into a bunch and secured it with something Tom couldn’t see. As if seeing his hands for the first time, Nora held them in her own hands and commented on how pretty his nails were. Tom groaned, having forgotten that he would be examined by a doctor with his pink nails in plain view. The ride over was uneventful. Nora dropped Sean at a friend’s home and proceeded to drive to the doctor’s office. Tom hoped that the early hour meant that they would be the first to arrive, but was disappointed to note that the parking lot was over half full. Nora had the foresight to bring the stroller, although Tom grimaced when he sat on it. Every new point of contact brought more pain. Tom was wheeled through a door reading “Dr. Emily Wood, Pediatrician.” The waiting room was typical except for a corner play area containing a play mat and an overflowing toy box. It already contained two toddlers, one of which was emptying the toy box as if looking for a particular item. A veteran, Tom thought. The children’s mothers were sitting in the chairs leafing through magazines and looking bored. Once Nora settled in across from them, though, their interest was immediately piqued. Nora made no effort to take Tom out of the stroller, to his relief, but obviously at this close range his true age was on display. Nora remained silent, leaving any of the ladies’ questions unanswered, but the stares did not waiver. After several minutes the familiar odor of a dirty diaper wafted through the room, and each woman took immediate notice. The two strangers called to their children and uniformly pulled the waistband of their pants back. One of them sighed, picked up the boy and after a short conversation with the receptionist took him into the back. Tom sighed, happy that he was spared being checked by Nora in front of them, but even more delighted that it wasn’t him. A few other women came in, settled in, and stared. Patients came and went and Tom had never felt so self-conscious. Finally he heard a woman’s voice call “Katie,” and Nora pushed him through the door to the back hallway before following the receptionist into an examination room. With the exception of a full-sized examination table, the room was about what Tom had expected. The walls were a bright white with scenes from nursery rhymes plastered all over. Stacks of diapers in multiple sizes filled several shelves next to the usual tongue depressors, cotton balls and infant supplies. The room had a slight aroma of wet baby. “Put her up on the table and strip her down to her diaper,” he heard a voice say. “The nurse will be with you shortly.” Tom allowed Nora to guide him onto the exam table, where she removed his clothing and had him lie on his back before pushing a pacifier into his mouth. The wait was not short. Tom mused to himself that apparently children didn’t get any faster treatment at the doctor’s office than adults did. When the door opened he was relieved, ready to suffer any indignity in order to alleviate his pain. A nurse appeared above him and smiled. “You’re being such a good girl, Katie,” she said. She felt his pulse, took his blood pressure and had him open his mouth as she looked inside. She un-taped his diaper but left it in place, then nudged him in a clear signal to turn over. Once he did so, she lowered his diaper down, exposing his backside. Tom could no longer see what the nurse was doing but heard the distinctive sound of latex gloves being snapped open. A minute later, he felt the gloved hands gently pry apart his cheeks slightly. A cold, greasy object was inserted far up into his rectum, causing him discomfort to accompany his pain. He was having his temperature taken rectally. Even here, they were treating him in line with how he was dressed instead of in accord with his obvious age. The nurse’s hand cupped Tom’s rear end for what seemed like ten minutes. Every once in a while she would move the thermometer in and out of his hole, making him think again of how long it had been since he had been on the giving side of such a maneuver with Rita. How long does it take to get a reading, he wondered? When it was finally over, the nurse pushed a wipe-covered finger deep inside before pronouncing his temperature “a little high.” Tom heard the door open again and a new woman’s voice exchanged pleasantries with Nora, asking after Sean before getting the basic background on Tom’s own condition. Tom again felt rubberized hands probing his rear, this time covering his entire butt. He felt uneasy having someone he hadn’t even seen performing such an intimate act, and it hurt. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Okay, let’s turn her over.” As Tom settled onto his back, he was finally able to view the doctor. She looked to be in her mid-30s but had a firm, athletic build beneath her lab coat, which also did nothing to hide her large bust. Her dark hair was cut in a short bob. Forgetting his situation for a moment, Tom was attracted to her. Dr. Wood continued her exam on his front side, pinching his penis between two fingers as she moved it out of the way. Tom was horrified to feel himself peeing as she held him, but she appeared nonplussed. It probably happens to her every day, he thought, trying to make himself feel better about the proof he had just provided of his infantile status. Satisfied with her exam of his genital area, Dr. Wood pulled Tom’s diaper back up as a shield but did not fasten it. She then put the buds of her stethoscope into her ears and held the end onto his chest. Tom jumped; it was cold. She moved it around, listening intently, then let it fall against her chest. Tom assumed she was finished when she discarded her gloves, but she surprised him by putting one hand over each of his breasts and manipulating them, moving them around and squeezing them, then pinching his nipples. Tom took in a sharp breath, again feeling a sense of arousal similar to that he had first felt with Megan. “Nora, you were right to bring her in today; her diaper rash is severe. I know you well enough not to lecture you about changing her diaper right away when wet or dirty, and I assume this was a one-time oversight. I’ll prescribe some medical-grade salve to help the pain, but you’ll also want to apply Desitin with each diaper change until the rash has been gone for at least twenty-four hours. And while I know it is difficult and can be a bit messy, you’ll have to try to expose her butt to the air for extended periods of time whenever possible. “I’ve also noticed that Katie is starting to develop up above, which is a healthy sign. Sometimes the hormones produced with the onset of a girl’s puberty actually help counteract the bacteria that causes and sustains diaper rash. I think it might help if we supplement her natural hormones a bit. This might cause her breasts to develop faster as a side-effect, but most girls wouldn’t see that as a bad thing. And it should help the rash disappear faster.” Tom couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he didn’t for a moment believe the doctor’s rationalization for increasing his hormone ingestion. As she was speaking, however, Dr. Wood had pulled a restraining strap over Tom’s mid-section, trapping his arms. He was helpless to move and the pacifier prevented him from doing anything but babble. He watched as the doctor unlocked a drawer, removing a syringe already filled with a light blue liquid. He tried to squirm his way out of his bondage but the strap was tight. His eyes grew wide as Dr. Wood stood above him, dispassionately injecting the fluid just beneath each nipple. “That should get her started, but I would recommend using an estrogen cream as well. I could write you a prescription, but I do have a sample of some that didn’t get approved. Apparently it worked too well and was abused. I trust you wouldn’t do that.” Nora shook her head and the doctor nodded. “Very well. This jar holds about a two-month supply; you shouldn’t need it for that long to cure her rash. Apply it topically in the morning and just before bedtime.” Nora stashed the medication in her purse, thanking the doctor as she left. She avoided Tom’s glare as she changed his now-damp diaper and re-dressed him. The pain of sitting back in the stroller almost made Tom willing to try anything, even additional hormones, to get rid of the painful rash. Almost, but not quite. Not that he had any choice, he thought bitterly. Not a word was said on the way home. Once there, Nora deposited Tom in his playpen and disappeared. To a neutral observer, everything would have appeared normal, as if nothing had happened. Tom knew better. The problem was, what could he do about it? XXII. For the next several days, Nora was actually attentive to Tom and could almost have been called kind. She changed his diaper regularly, coating him with a thick layer of Desitin, and on occasion would apply the salve that made his skin feel cool and temporarily eased his pain. At nap time she took his diaper off completely, putting several layers of cloth diapers under him to contain his accidents, of which there were many. After two days, his rash was under control and by the fourth day, it was gone. Nora continued to use the Desitin as a precaution. She also continued with the breast cream, even after his rash had cleared. Twice a day, she applied a liberal dose of the cream to each breast and massaged them for five minutes. While he dreaded the thought of what might result from this treatment, Tom had to admit that the massages were the highlights of his day. They just felt so good. After awhile, it became just another part of the daily routine, albeit a pleasurable one, and he didn’t even think about the consequences. The weeks passed, one day blurring into another. Hourly bottles, wet diapers, dirty diapers, nasty food and periodic humiliation as Tom was exposed to those few people in the neighborhood that hadn’t yet seen the oversized baby. Megan sat several more times and repeated her antics, but never did follow through on her promise to bring friends over, which dulled her threats to do so. Sean continued to ignore Tom but on some level seemed to accept him as his baby cousin. Nora’s taunting lessened and, for better or worse, also began to treat Tom not as her brother-in-law being subjected to extreme and perverse punishment, but as an actual infant in need of her care. Without realizing it, her change in perspective made it easier for Tom to accept his infantile status and as a consequence he also found it easier to act in the way that she expected of a real baby. Not that he didn’t have his moments where he snapped out of the trance brought on by repetitive routine and tedium and tried to reverse his slide into babyhood. When it became clear that Nora had no intention of re-introducing the potty anytime soon, Tom took it upon himself to secretly begin trying to hold back and regain control of his bladder and bowels. After a few days of getting nowhere except depressed at his inability to make any progress, he gave up. He justified his lack of success by telling himself that the drugs Nora fed him made any control physically impossible. His bowel movements were now the consistency of pudding and ran out of him without any sort of warning at all. Despite all of the setbacks, he still held on to the belief that Nora would never turn him back over to her sister in this condition. At a minimum, she would discontinue the drugs and help him in his efforts to once again use the toilet like an adult. With that accomplished, just getting back to his own home, in an adult bed, and wearing his own clothing would speed his transition back into manhood. Of this, he was confident. He did, however, grow increasingly concerned about the effect of the estrogen he had been given for a long time now. His penis had lost most of both its length and girth and couldn’t have been even an inch long, and he couldn’t get it to grow under any circumstances. While he fretted about losing size in his crotch, he worried even more about the size he was gaining in his chest. He had been in denial at the beginning about the growth of his breasts and felt that Nora, Megan and Dr. Wood had been working together to play with his mind. But he now knew otherwise. He clearly had boobs. Not big ones, and nothing that couldn’t be hidden beneath a baggy sweatshirt or a sport coat. But if he wanted to reestablish his masculinity, it would be difficult to do while wearing a bra. All of these thoughts swirled around inside of his head with regularity, but as he sat in his playpen on one warm, sunny afternoon, dressed in the frilly outfit Megan made for him, he was more focused on the plastic baby blocks Nora had dropped in with him earlier. His concentration was hardly broken when the doorbell rang; it was no longer that odd for Nora to have visitors who took Tom’s situation in stride. He didn’t even look up as Nora went to answer the door. “Hey there! Welcome back! It’s so good to see you.” Tom’s curiosity was raised slightly but he wanted to finish building his fort. He didn’t see the woman who entered and gave Nora a big hug. He ignored the footsteps that came in his direction and the presence of the woman who hovered above him. “Well, Katie? Aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to your Mommy?” Tom froze at the sound of his wife’s voice. He suddenly realized how it must have looked to Rita to visit her husband for the first time in over a month, expecting to find him back to the man she knew, only to find him in a ridiculously girlish baby dress, still sucking on a pacifier, blissfully playing with blocks while sitting in a playpen. He tried to push the blocks behind him before sheepishly raising his eyes. “I guess I thought I would be met by my husband, not by some drooling, smelly sissy baby,” she continued. Her gaze never left Tom as she backed into the couch, falling into it as if in a daze. Tom looked into her eyes for the first time and was stricken at what he saw: bewilderment, disappointment and anger. He had to look away. He wanted to say something, to explain what had been done to him, but couldn’t find his voice. It was Nora that took the lead, sitting next to Rita and taking her hands into her own. “It’s not entirely Katie’s fault, Rita. She actually did me a great favor by failing at the basics of potty training and wetting her panties in front of Sean. I saw the effect disciplining your husband by babifying and sissifying her had on my son; he was petrified of receiving similar treatment. It motivated him to use the toilet far better than if Katie had tinkled into the potty. So maybe I took things to a bit of an extreme by forcing Katie into diapers in order to meet my goal with Sean, and for keeping her in them past when Sean was clearly trained. It was selfish, but I’m not sorry for it.” Rita’s gaze never waivered from Tom, but she was clearly listening to her sister. Nora continued. “Once I was satisfied that Sean would stay dry, I told Katie it was okay to grow up now, but she continued to have accidents. I actually had to resort to trying to toilet train her, sitting her down and encouraging her to go into the potty, reading potty training books to her before naptime, and even putting her back into her male underpants as an incentive. What a mess! I don’t know what triggered her regressive behavior, but I was fed up. If she wanted to act like a baby, I would treat her like one. I thought maybe if I made it as embarrassing as possible she would snap out of it, but the more I pushed the more she seemed to accept her role as the family infant. Over time, I came to see her as a baby girl and it never really occurred to me to try to bring her back into adulthood. This just seemed easier.” Tom wanted to cry out about these lies, but remained mute for fear of retribution. There would be time later to sit down with Rita and tell her the whole, true story. In the meantime, the fabrications continued. Nora recounted their public outings, his breastfeeding experience, and a creative history of the last five weeks, embellishing her account with details that made it seem like she gave Tom every opportunity to pull himself out of infancy. Tom’s anger rose with every passing minute and he felt flushed. Rita had remained silent while Nora spoke, but at a pause in the story cleared her throat and asked simply, “The dresses. Why dresses?” Nora paused before responding. “That started out as part of the humiliation intended to motivate Sean, and it worked. Why I continued is another story. By about her third day in diapers, Katie developed a diaper rash that wouldn’t go away. I tried everything I knew of, every over-the-counter medication. Finally I took her to see the pediatrician. She discovered that Katie’s rash was caused by a highly-resistant strain of bacteria, and it was mainly found in baby boys. The bacteria seemed to thrive in an environment with a testosterone source. The only way to combat it is to suppress the production of testosterone and to flood the body with estrogen. So that’s what we did. “It worked and Katie’s rash went away. But as soon as I stopped the treatment, it returned. So on the doctor’s advice, I’ve kept it up. The good news is that there’s been no further evidence of the rash. But there have been side effects.” Nora paused, as if unsure about how to word what she needed to say. “One is that it might be awhile before you, um, resume marital relations. Her member has shrunk almost to the size of a little baby’s, and isn’t currently functional for anything other than peeing.” Rita’s eyes seemed to flash, but she remained silent. Nora went on. “And Katie’s body has started to react to the estrogen the way any other pubescent girl would; she’s been developing little breasts, which I’m sure will go away once we stop giving her hormones. Anyway, dresses seemed more appropriate given the way her body has transformed. And dresses do make it easier to check the condition of her diaper. She never seemed to mind being all pretty.” Rita sat quietly, absorbing what she had just heard. “I need to see this for myself,” she finally whispered. Rita approached the crib, instructed Tom to lie down, and carefully un-taped each side of his diaper. She sighed as his penis reacted to the cold air by releasing a small stream of urine, which she deftly caught in the diaper. Once he had finished, she pinched his miniscule penis between her fingers, then measured its length against her pinky. Shaking her head, she re-taped him into his damp diaper. Next, Rita pulled the bottom of Tom’s dress up over his head, enveloping him in the layers of crinoline. He felt her grope his breasts, stop, and then squeeze again. Finally satisified with her examination, she allowed him to sit back up as she resumed her seat. Rita finally tore her eyes away from Tom and looked straight at Nora for the first time since they had started this discussion. “So what I have for a husband now is a twelve-month-old baby below the waist and a twelve-year-old girl above?” Nora started to nod, but the way her sister had phrased Tom’s condition induced a smile at the corner of her mouth. Rita, too, began to smile and before either one of the women could contain themselves, they dissolved into a fit of giggles. Tom was horrified. “I’m sorry,” Rita said, wiping tears from her eyes. “This is just so much to absorb. And what Katie has on her chest aren’t breasts, they’re tits. She has boobies that would make any pre-teen proud. “Anyway, as bizarre and unexpected as all of this is, it makes what I have to announce a little bit easier.” Rita hesitated, as if it was difficult to go on. She had the rapt attention of both her sister and husband. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then finally appeared to make a decision and spoke for the first time with authority. She addressed Nora, but clearly meant for Tom to hear what she had to say as well. “You know that I’ve been away on trial with one of the partners. A major trial such as this one is a huge undertaking and requires anyone working on it to practically spend every waking minute together. That means about twenty hours a day in close contact. The stress and pressure of the situation either drives people apart or creates a close bond. In our case, it was the latter. “Laura is a brilliant lawyer and was the youngest attorney ever to make partner at our firm three years ago. She is also incredibly attractive and has an alluring, vibrant personality. We worked well together. Over the course of the last five weeks, we also found that we weren’t ready to separate at the end of the work day. We ended up sharing a room at first. Soon we were sharing a bed.” Tom’s jaw dropped open. She couldn’t be saying what he thought she was saying, could she? Rita looked at him with a look that bordered on pity, then continued. “She brought out feelings that I never knew I had. By the time the trial was half over, we were lovers.” She looked at the shocked expression on her sister’s face. “I know, it’s a lot to take in and you probably have a million questions. Am I a lesbian? I don’t know; maybe I’m just looking for something different after so many years with Mr. Tiny Dick over here. This is all new to me and I have a lot of thinking to do. For now, it’s enough that Laura and I are in love. “You understand that what I’m telling you is in complete confidence. Our firm has gotten less conservative since I started there, but it’s still not ready to accept two of its female lawyers in a relationship. Besides, it has a policy against employees dating. We figure that after the result of the trial—we won—I’ll be made partner next year. Once I establish myself as a partner, as Laura has done, so that we’re both invaluable to the future of the firm, we can come out and force them to accept us. Assuming, of course, that we’re still together. Who knows, I may go back to men, although…” and here she looked at Tom, “I’m not sure I know of any right now. “In the meantime, I need to keep up appearances like everything is perfectly normal. So, little girl, if you’re worried that I will be divorcing you, don’t be. You will still be my husband as far as the outside world knows. I’ll have to explain your incontinence, so that no one will be shocked if you poop yourself when we have company over and I have to lay you down and change your diaper while they watch. It won’t be hard—you had a mild stroke, or some sort of illness. Laura has a physician client who owes her a favor who I’m sure would write whatever it takes to allow you to leave your job due to a disability, and to provide us with a perfect cover. And Laura will prepare a Power of Attorney that will allow me to control all of your health care decisions. “But if you think everything will be going back the way it was, I’m afraid that won’t be the case. Laura will be my lover from now on. You will be our baby girl. We talked a lot about you and what your place would be upon my return. Seeing you in diapers and a dress when I dropped by before I left town gave me an idea. We both want a baby, but don’t want the mess of a tryst with a man, or the problems that pregnancy can bring to a blossoming career. And we both agreed that we’ve always dreamed of all of the things we would do right in raising a daughter that our parents never did. So see, you do have a role. You will be our baby daughter and we will raise you to be a prissy, ultra-feminine little girl. “So while it was a shock to see you today, it wasn’t an unpleasant surprise. You’re already partway there. Of course, you’ll be in diapers for at least the first year or two. And we’ll continue giving you hormones and anti-androgens. You’ll go through all the stages any other growing girl does, although we’ll have to think about how to give you a period when you reach that age. Your breasts will continue to grow, way ahead of schedule of course, but we won’t suppress them. From the looks of it, you’re already in need of a training bra. Won’t that be fun, Katie, to go with Mommy to the store and have the pretty clerk put a tape measure over your boobies and find out what size your first bra should be? You’ll probably be so excited that we’ll have to get a fresh diaper on you on the floor of the changing room. “And I’m sorry to say that for awhile, your illness (in whatever form we choose it to be) will get worse and you will become as helpless as a baby. Since Mommy works, we’ll need to hire a nanny for you during the day, and babysitters whenever I work late or go out at night. I think some of your former students would be happy to come over and cuddle their old professor in their arms while they feed you a bottle and wipe drool from your face before they change your stinky panties and put you in a clean dress. “So Baby Katie, I can tell from your expression that you aren’t happy with this news. Tough. Between Laura’s and my legal expertise and a cooperative doctor, you don’t have a choice. So get used to the feeling of that diaper you just dirtied, it’s your life from now on. Your Aunt Nora and I have some talking to do, and the air in here is a bit nasty, so we’re going to the kitchen.” Rita and a stunned but satisfied Nora stood up, holding hands. Rita bent down, kissed Tom on the top of his head, and left the room. Tom watched her go, shocked and confused. The wet lump in his diaper all of a sudden felt worse than it ever had before, and all of his hope that everything would be fine when Rita returned crashed within his mind. That may have been his last chance to resist, to get up and get out, but he didn’t. What Tom did do….what Baby Katie did…was lie down and bawl like a baby.

The Potty Training Buddy was my story. It seems to have disappeared along with some of my other ones (the only one still here is The Shrink). I'll see that they get reposted in the near future.

XXI. Patricia spent the next week reinforcing all of the suggestions that she had placed into Robert’s subconscious. At the same time, she began to allow their relationship to return to normal, leaving behind the cold persona she had affected whenever Robert’s pants were dry. It didn’t seem to matter as far as the use of his diapers. In fact, she became convinced that he wasn’t even aware anymore when he was urinating. At the very least, a wet diaper didn’t seem to be cause for alarm. Robert never asked for a change anymore. He allowed the women in his life to check him and never protested if they put a finger inside the front of his diaper or pulled the back out to smell him. It was Nicky who noticed the other important development. While Patricia made it her own job to handle every dirty diaper change, as she was able to make them a little sexier than her daughter, about a week into her time off Robert managed to soil himself while she was at the grocery store. Nicky noticed the telltale odor from the other side of the house and chose wisely not to wait for her mother to get home to change the baby. When she took Robert’s hand to lead him to the bed for a change, she couldn’t help but notice the bulge in the front of his diaper. The very act of pooping himself gave him an erection. The imprinting was a success. To test how successful, later than night Patricia put on her sexiest nightie and snuggled up close to Robert, whispering naughty thoughts into his ear. As far as she could tell, there was no reaction from his groin. A couple of days later, while they were out to eat, a baby at the next table filled the room with the fragrance of her soiled diaper. Thinking it might be Robert, Patricia surreptitiously began to put her hand down Robert’s diaper under the table. He wasn’t messy, but he was hard. Even the smell of another infant’s dirty diaper caused a sexual reaction. Nothing else, not even a nude and willing woman, would. Given his lack of interest in sex, and the fact that Robert was now functionally incontinent, Patricia chose to keep Robert in Nicky’s old bedroom. The infantile odors of powder, oil and, of course, the diaper pail, permeated the room and Patricia had no desire to bring that into her own domain. Robert didn’t seem to mind. Over time, Patricia added a changing table to the room and filled the shelves with his diapering supplies. She hoped one day to add crib rails to the side of his bed, but didn’t want to push too fast. Robert continued to function for the most part as an adult while in public and in respect to his job, but seemed to embrace the life of a toddler at all other times. He seldom wore anything to cover his diaper at home, even when Nicky had friends over, and didn’t seem to consider that wearing and using a diaper at his age was anything unusual. He was happy to have Patricia or Nicky make decisions for him. He remained affectionate and caring in his relationship with Patricia, and she found that she was happier than before to have this combination of man and baby. She no longer had to worry about sexual activity, except for the occasional hand job during a dirty diaper change, although even then Robert frequently seemed to have already ejaculated by the time she changed him. Apparently he would now cum while in the act of shitting himself. All was well; in fact, better than ever. Even the relationship between Robert and Nicky had improved immensely, now that Nicky was the one in charge. Only one task remained, a test of sorts. This was so wrong, Patricia thought to herself. But she knew she needed to go through with it. Patricia let Robert know that she and Nicky were leaving to go shopping for the day, but by arrangement Nicky stayed behind and hid. As soon as she drove out of sight of the house, Patricia called Joyce. “Joyce, this is Patricia from down the block. Would you do me a favor? Robert’s phone doesn’t seem to be on and Nicky is here with me so I can’t call her to get him a message. It’s important. Would you mind very much walking down to our house and letting Robert know that we got delayed and won’t be back home until tonight? You will? Oh, thanks so much.” As Nicky reported to her that evening, Joyce pounced on the opportunity. She must have left her home immediately after hanging up. Not expecting company, Robert answered the door without thinking that he wasn’t wearing anything over his diaper. And Patricia had made sure that she “forgot” to change him before she left. Joyce was greeted by a man standing in a drooping, soaked diaper. Robert realized what was happening when Joyce stared dumbfounded at his crotch. Still, he was unfazed. He invited her in and she was too shocked to refuse. Nicky said that Robert asked if she would like some coffee but by that time Joyce had recovered and started mumbling an excuse about having to get back, forgetting even to pass on Patricia’s message. As she turned to go, however, Robert asked her a favor. Patricia had left without changing him, would Joyce mind? His diaper was getting cold and uncomfortable. Nicky almost blew her cover as she snorted while trying not to laugh. Incredibly, Joyce consented to change him, probably to see if this was for real. She left soon after, and it was clear that any fire she held for Robert had been extinguished. More importantly, Robert himself had shown that he was willing to let other women care for him, which opened up the possibility of using babysitters. Just in case. Even better, he apparently now saw all women as caregivers rather than sexual beings. Patricia returned soon after, giving Robert a big hug. She insisted that the family go out for a celebratory dinner. Robert’s inquiry about what they were celebrating was met only with a fit of giggles from the two women, so he let it slide. As they trio left the house, Robert in the lead, Patricia and Nicky gave each other a high-five. Mission accomplished. And that is the end of our little tale. Thank you to those who have left comments, and I hope all have enjoyed.

XX. Patricia hadn’t been home five minutes when Robert asked for a talk. He clearly wanted to relate the details of his accident to her before Nicky did. Hesitatingly, he told her what had happened, although the part about Nicky waiting too long to bring him to the bathroom was not in line with what Patricia had overheard on the phone. Rather than challenge him or get angry for his little fib, she let it slide. If he needed an excuse for now, so be it. “Robert, I don’t know why you’re upset. Really, I guess I kind of assumed that as long as you’re wearing diapers full-time, you wouldn’t bother to take them off when you needed to go potty. In fact, I like the idea that you’re comfortable enough in them that you don’t mind using them for everything. And sweetie, it gives me a chance to spend some extra time with you when I change you. Some special time.” Patricia put her hand on Robert’s thigh as she completed her sentence, and looked at him with what she hoped were her sexy eyes. She had never been good at flirting. Robert appeared to consider what she was saying, and nodded slowly but not convincingly. Once again, Patricia decided she needed to take the initiative. “Robert, I know the last few weeks have been difficult for both of us, and while I’m delighted that we are starting to resolve our issue, I think we could use a little more time together. I’ve arranged to take next week off so that we can push through any remaining issues, and I can be here to help you when you need me. Since tomorrow is Saturday, that gives us the next nine days. Would you like that?” Robert’s eyes lit up and he threw himself into Patricia’s arms in a giant hug. As they embraced, Patricia couldn’t help pulling the waistband of his diaper back and sniffing the air. Nothing. “I’m glad you are looking forward to it as much as I am, Robbie. I’ll tell you what. For now, since you’ve had a bit of a rough day, why don’t we do our session early, right now. You know how much they relax you, and it will be a good start into the weekend.” Patricia didn’t expect any opposition, and got none. Robert had been able to drop into a deep trance quickly now, and that left more time for the suggestion part. Patricia used it all to reinforce the thought that diapers should be used for everything and to remind Robert that the more infantile he acted, the more innocent he would appear. As she started to bring him out of his trance, Patricia was sure that she had gotten through to him. If there was any doubt a few seconds later, as she awoke him, it vanished in the odor of a newly-soiled diaper. Both Patricia and Robert were momentarily stunned and neither moved nor spoke. Patricia broke the stalemate by sniffing the air before moving to Robert’s side, pulling him to a stand, and then cupping his rear end. Triumphant inside, she stayed calm on the outside. “It looks like my baby needs his diaper changed. Don’t worry, baby, Mommy will take care of everything.” Patricia spread the changing pad down on the bed, then lowered Robert to a prone position on top of it. She smiled at him as she stripped his socks off, and almost as an afterthought took his shirt off as well. Sitting beside him, she gently rubbed his chest, tweaking his nipples, and kissed him on the stomach. Their eyes met, and there was no doubt that Robert was enjoying the attention. Patricia kept it up for a little longer, noting at some point that Robert had closed his eyes and was concentrating on her touch. She took that as a sign to move down his body, and soon she was playing with his penis through the front of his diaper. With her other hand, she moved the mess sitting against his rear around, trying to strengthen the link between what sat there and what she was doing on the front side. It wasn’t long before Robert began to pant, biting his lip in the sign Patricia recognized as the last step before orgasm. Sure enough, two seconds later his hips rose into the air and he made a guttural noise. Patricia continued rubbing both front and back until he appeared to have finished. She slid closer to his head, planting a wet and passionate kiss directly on his lips. Robert sighed happily. The first part of her job complete, Patricia turned her attention to finishing the diaper change. Despite having changed her daughter thousands of times, she wasn’t prepared for the mess an adult could make. Resisting the urge to gag, she smiled at Robert as she used wipe after wipe to clean his bottom, with more than a little more time devoted to his penis. After what seemed like an eternity, she placed the tightly-wrapped diaper into his pail and quickly spread a fresh diaper underneath him. Traversing the room to the dresser, Patricia grabbed the bottle of sweet-smelling baby lotion and squirted a generous portion into her hands. Beginning with his now-flaccid member and moving to his rear, she massaged the lotion into his skin. For a minute, she thought he might cum a second time. Pulling the sides of the diaper up quickly, she taped him in and again leaned down to kiss him. “I need to get dinner started. It’s late. I’ll call you when it’s ready.” Patricia didn’t look back at her boyfriend as she left the room, but she had never been more confident in an assumption. In the last ninety minutes, he had crossed the line. He was her baby now, and he would be in diapers for as long as she decided to keep him in them. Which in her mind, might be forever.

IXX. Part of her hoped that Robert would wake up with a bulging bottom so that she could address the first messy accident herself, but he was merely wet and she disposed of that change with kindness but no overt affection. Of course Patricia realized that all of the talk she and Nicky had had would be useless unless he actually took to the suggestion she had planted. It would be a lot to expect results this quickly. As before, Nicky promised to keep her phone ready to speed dial her mom if the situation warranted. Patricia kept her earpiece in as she listened drowsily to her first two patients of the day. She eventually forgot it was there, and was startled when she heard Nicky’s voice in her ear. However sleepy she had been earlier, she was alert now. “Good morning, Robert. Did you want an early lunch? Coming down for a snack? No? Is there something I can help you with? You need to go to the bathroom? You have a diaper on, Robbie, I don’t mind if you use it. Oh, I see, now I understand. Certainly, let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll take your diaper off so you can go poo-poo. Come on, take my hand. Is something the matter? Robbie, come on before you—oh dear. Go ahead, baby, you might as well finish now. It’s okay, no need for tears. That’s what diapers are for. Babies use them for everything, so you don’t need to be embarrassed. Come here, let me give you a hug.” Patricia was so engrossed with what she was hearing that she almost forgot that one of her patients was on the couch. Fortunately, Samantha Hawkins repeated the same story in the same way every session, week in and week out. Patricia already knew it by heart. She could hear Nicky consoling Robert and letting him know that using the diaper for all bodily functions was natural, even expected, and that she and Patricia would have been surprised, even disappointed, if he hadn’t. Patricia was glad that they had talked the night before and decided on an approach that would seem both supportive and affectionate, subtly reinforcing the idea that pooping his diaper was the right thing to do. Patricia realized that Samantha was coming to the point in her narrative where she wrapped things up and fled the office, so her attention turned briefly to her patient. As Samantha closed the door, Patricia focused back on what was happening at home. She heard footsteps, as they were obviously going to Robert’s room. Nicky had clearly found a way to bring her phone with her without raising Robert’s suspicions. “Lay down on the changing pad now, Robbie, and let me take care of that nasty diaper. Whew! You are smelly, aren’t you? That’s okay, it’s like baby perfume. I don’t mind a bit. Are you wet, too? Let me feel your diaper there.” Patricia closed her eyes. Here is was, the moment she had both been hoping for and dreading. She listened intently as she waited for Nicky to continue. What she heard instead was the rustling of plastic. Soon Nicky was humming a little song, occasionally telling Robert what a good boy he was being for laying so still for his diaper change. It wasn’t long, perhaps less than a minute, before the sound of plastic being manipulated was punctuated by muffled, male grunting. Patricia was on edge waiting to hear Nicky’s next words, which came almost immediately. “Okay, Robbie, let’s open up your Pamper and start getting you all fresh.” Patricia couldn’t believe it. By dropping the code word “Pamper” into the sentence, Nicky was letting her know that Robert had, in fact, ejaculated. True to their plan, Nicky didn’t say a thing that would indicate to Robert that she knew what he had done. The rest of the diaper change was business as usual, except it took a bit longer and Nicky didn’t even try to hold back on the baby talk while she cleaned and re-diapered Robert. As far as Patricia could tell, Robert remained silent, probably worried that Nicky would see the extra discharge in the front of his diaper. Fat chance, she thought, with the little amount he produced. Finally, she heard Nicky give Robert an exaggerated kiss on the cheek and the sound of one set of footsteps, indicating Nicky was leaving. It was only a moment later that Nicky’s voice came back on, louder than before. “Mom, are you still there? Mom, it was so cool. He actually came to me to ask permission to take his diaper off to use the toilet! Like I’m the adult and he’s the child. I thought your suggestion hadn’t worked until he squatted right in front of me, made a potty face, and shit himself while I watched! He turned so red! After that, he really did act like a toddler and let me take total control. And you were right. Just a little squeeze here and there and he started bucking right there on the bed. I pretended not to notice. Did you hear? Mom, it couldn’t have worked out better.” Patricia sighed in relief as Nicky continued. “But, Mom, it was kind of disgusting. The dirty diaper, I mean. But I guess we’ll get used to it. And if I have a baby some day, there’s no way it will be as big a mess as Robert, so I’ll be prepared.” Patricia laughed and praised Nicky but had to get off the phone as her next patient arrived. The rest of the day crawled, but Patricia used her breaks to clear her next week’s schedule. She was going to be home, in person, to make sure that this breakthrough didn’t go to waste.

XVIII. Later that evening, while sipping a glass of wine, Patricia began to have second thoughts about keeping Nicky in the dark about the direction she was taking Robert’s training. For one thing, it really would be unfair to surprise her with a dirty diaper if Robert took the suggestion from that night’s session. More so, though, she would need Nicky to perform what she might consider an inappropriate, or even disgusting, act in order to bring Robert to his final stage. But Patricia had given this a lot of thought, and she wanted…no, needed….Robert’s behavior modified, for her own mental health and to strengthen their relationship. Patricia sighed. This would not be an easy talk. Nicky was aware of the circumstances of her conception, at least. When she turned fifteen, Patricia has sat her down and told her everything. It had been an emotional evening, full of tears and accusations, and finally hugs and a sort of catharsis. They were both glad that the big secret Patricia had carried for so many years had finally been brought out in the open. Still, the topic had never been discussed again since that time. Patricia stopped by the kitchen on her way to Nicky’s room to pour her daughter a Coke. Stalling a bit, she thought to herself. Carrying her own wine and Nicky’s drink in her hands, she made her way down the hall. Nicky didn’t seem surprised to see her, and curiously asked how their session had gone. Patricia answered vaguely, then sat on the bed next to her daughter. “Nicky, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you as an accomplice to this whole weird plan of mine, although I think you’ve actually enjoyed it.” Nicky’s broad grin affirmed this assumption. “But what I’m about to ask of you might be going a bit too far. I need you to be honest with me, and if you don’t think you can do this I absolutely will understand and won’t hold it against you. You’ll have to forgive me if I need to talk a bit to lead up to my request.” She had her daughter’s rapt attention. Patricia briefly referenced their conversation from a few years earlier, deliberately avoiding going back into detail. She could see Nicky’s concern growing, and wanted to get to the point. To the fun stuff, at least from her own point of view. “What I didn’t talk to you about before, and what is still hard for me to say, is that the incident leading to my pregnancy has left a few scars. Most notably, and I can’t believe I’m telling my own daughter this, is that it is very hard for me to be intimate with a man. For me, sex is something to be tolerated when necessary but will never be enjoyable and if I could avoid it altogether I would. Don’t get that look of pity in your eyes, young lady. If that’s what I have to trade off to have you in my life, it’s worth it.” By this point, both women were close to tears. Time to lighten the mood. “With Robert, it hasn’t been that big a deal. In fact, you’ve seen him during diaper time. It really isn’t that big at all.” Patricia giggled a bit and, despite her obvious puzzlement over where this was headed and the awkwardness of hearing about this from her own mother, Nicky couldn’t help but join her. “Really, I barely feel him inside of me. And just when I’m wondering when he is going to enter, it’s over. I don’t even have time to dwell on my issues with the sexual act.” Both mother and daughter were starting to lose their discomfort, and Nicky obviously enjoyed being brought into her mother’s inner, and very adult, circle. “But Robert’s diapering had given me an opportunity that I didn’t anticipate when we started down this path. I hope you don’t lose respect for me, Nicky, but it opens a door to allow Robert to meet his sexual needs, although maybe not in a way that he would choose, while taking penetration out of the picture. It’s a way that I can keep him in my life without having to endure the emotional upset of having sex.” Patricia stopped to catch her breath, wondering what could be going through her daughter’s head right now. “Okay, that’s the background. You’ve seen how impressionable Robert is, how open he is to the power of suggestion. How many other men would allow themselves to be talked into pissing themselves? I want to try to take advantage of his vulnerability from another direction, a sort of Pavlovian conditioning. Last night when he was under hypnosis, I suggested that he should do more than just wet his diapers. Yes, Nicole, I want him to start using his diapers for everything.” Nicky must have been aware that her mouth had dropped open, as she self-consciously and quickly shut it. Before she could say a word, Patricia continued. “Yes, that would mean that you would be changing dirty diapers. I understand that it would be an odorous and unpleasant task. I don’t look forward to it either. But it would also mean that we have met our goal. Not many women would consider making advances on a man who wears and wets diapers, but there might be a few that would risk it if they were horny enough. But a man who poops himself, whose skin has been encased in stinky diapers for so long that it emits that unmistakable odor even when clean? Who would do that?” By this point, Nicky was trying unsuccessfully to avoid dissolving into fits of laughter. She was nodding as she rocked back on the bed, obviously enjoying the picture of Robert with a load in his bottom. Patricia smiled, but this still wasn’t where she needed to be. “There’s more, Nicky. I want to condition Robert so that the only time he can get hard, the only time that his body is willing to enjoy any sexual satisfaction, is when he is wearing a wet and dirty diaper. There is no woman alive that would be willing to make love under those conditions. Talk about a mood killer. Plus I think I know women well enough that any sexual feelings they had would quickly morph into a single thought: this poor baby needs a clean diaper. They would stop seeing him as a man and he would forever more be a helpless infant in their minds. “Maybe you see where this is going. The only way this will have a chance of working is if Robert begins to associate wet and dirty diapers with sexual excitement. We need to make sure that every change of a wet diaper is clinical and maternal. But whenever he has a dirty diaper, he needs to achieve orgasm. What I’m asking you to do when I’m not around, and please tell me if I’ve lost my mind, is to stroke him through his stinky diaper until he cums. Then just finish the diaper change as if nothing unusual had happened.” Patricia stared at the floor, unable to look Nicky in the eyes. As much as she had felt uncomfortable when she had debated bringing Nicky into this, actually verbalizing it felt much worse. She decided to backtrack. Still focused on the floorboards, she added “Nicky, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to ask that of you. I needed your help for that to work, because he would have to cum at every messy diaper change and I won’t always be here. But it was selfish of me, and I hope you forgive me.” Patricia finally got the nerve to look up in Nicky’s direction, and she was startled by what met her gaze. Nicky was smiling ear-to-ear, tears from her silent laughter still lingering in the corner of her eyes. “Mom, I think that is absolutely brilliant. Really, really sick, but brilliant. Don’t you know that I love you, and that I would do anything to help you out? Well, maybe not anything. But I would love to do this. He’s not my real dad, you know. And I’ve always felt a little guilty about how I came into this world. If I can help save you from your demons, of course I’ll do it. “But…” and here Nicky moved closer so that their faces were only inches apart… “you owe me. Dirty diapers? Yuk!” No sooner had Nicole finished speaking than the two women fell into each other’s arms in a spontaneous hug. Soon they were happily jabbering about the finer points of bringing on an orgasm through the thick layer of a diaper, including gross ideas about what to use for lubricant if necessary. Patricia was happy to state that Robert was always so quick on the trigger, it probably wouldn’t be necessary. By the time she crawled into her bed at a late hour, Patricia fell into the most relaxed sleep she had had in years.

XVII. For the first time in weeks, there was conversation at dinner. Instinctively, Nicky knew to focus on subjects completely apart from wet beds and pants. She related a story about a friend of hers who got set up on a blind date only to find it was her brother, and soon everyone at the table was laughing. Everyone felt good, but the elephant still hadn’t left the room. As the last of the food was consumed and everyone sat back, sated and happy, Patricia knew she had to bring reality back into the fold. “Nicky, would you please put on water for tea? We need to talk about how to address Robert’s problem.” At first Robert’s face fell, but Patricia’s warm smile and her reaching out to take his hand seemed to give him some comfort. As Nicky poured tea, his face relaxed and Patricia knew that he would have no objection to the solution that had already been decided upon. Patricia spoke first. “Robert, there’s no reason to be embarrassed about what’s been going on with you. These things happen, and Nicole and I are here to offer our support and to help in any way necessary. Isn’t that right, Nicky?” Nicky nodded as she gave Robert a big smile. “The only thing that is bothersome is the fact that your accidents, if they continue, will result in a lot of additional laundry and may mean having to keep cleaning up your chair, or our couch, or whatever else you’re in when you wet yourself. The very nature of accidents means you can’t control when or where they will happen. In fact, it just now occurred to me—what if you wet yourself while we were out to dinner, or shopping? How will we make sure that doesn’t happen?” Everyone knew the solution, but Robert looked so sheepish at that moment that the women knew he wouldn’t be the one to propose it. Nicky spoke up. “Well, we can’t control what we can’t control. Robert doesn’t know when he is going to pee himself, so we can’t ask him to hold it until it’s more convenient to wet his pants.” Patricia almost lost her composure and kicked Nicky under the table. “But what we can control is containing his urine so that it doesn’t go everywhere. Diapers work so well for his bed wetting, I think he should try using them during the day as well.” Patricia managed to look as if the idea hadn’t occurred to her. “Why, that’s an excellent suggestion, Nicky. What do you think, Robert? We could at least give it a try unless you can think of a better solution.” Having planted the idea that she thought Robert’s diapers were cute, added to her efforts during the hypnosis sessions, Patricia was sure that Robert would go along. And he did. He even gave his verbal “okay” along with a nod of the head. Patricia smiled. “Fine, then, that’s settled. Nicky, would you please clear the table and do the dishes? I need to go take care of Robert.” Nicky’s look of disappointment was tangible, but Patricia knew that if everything worked out, she would get more than enough chances to diaper Robert. Patricia took Robert by the hand, then worked her arm around his waist, pulling their bodies together as they walked to his room. She talked to him softly and with affection as they covered the short distance, telling him how proud she was that he could address his problem so maturely. Once they were inside the bedroom, Robert reached to unbutton his shirt but Patricia stopped him. “Just relax, Robby,” she whispered in his ear, “let Mommy do it.” Slowly, almost seductively, she undid each button, keeping their torsos close. As she slid the shirtsleeves down Robert’s arms, she made sure to brush his chest with her own, lingering just long enough. Her goal was to show affection with just a hint of sensuality, without going far enough that he would become aroused. Once the shirt was disposed of, Patricia took off each of his socks and then removed his pants, moving a little more quickly while being careful not to allow it to become sexual. She pushed him gently to a sitting position on the bed, then sat down herself so that their bodies touched. Turning Robert’s face to hers with her hand, she kissed him lightly on the lips. The look in his eyes was one of a man that would do anything for this woman who must love him so much. “Let’s get your diaper on, then we’ll have our session a little earlier tonight. I think we’re almost to the point where we won’t need to have them as often. Lately your behavior has made me think that maybe you really can be trusted, that your behavior with Joyce was just one of those situations you aren’t big enough to handle.” As she spoke, Patricia made sure she was holding the diaper where it would remain clearly in sight as Robert watched her speak. With luck, her reference to his behavior and wearing diapers would become associated in his subconscious mind. Patricia hummed randomly as she diapered her boyfriend, frequently smiling and making eye contact. When she was done she propped a pillow under his head and proceeded to put him into his trance. When he was ready, Patricia wasted no time. “Robert, you seem to be in a much better mood tonight. Did something happen?” Robert did, in fact, seem to be devoid of any of the usual agitation that he showed in these sessions. He briefly, and somewhat incoherently, brought Patricia up to date on what had happened. If Patricia hadn’t participated, she might not have made sense of what he was describing. She decided to take the lead. “That is such good news, Robert! It appears that your idea to wet your pants during the day has done exactly what you had hoped it would! Patricia associates your infantile behavior with innocence, and is beginning to trust you. Agreeing to wear daytime diapers was brilliant, Robert. That way she has something physical to remind her of your innocence, even when your pants are dry. I think it would help if you left your pants off at home, don’t you? That way every time she looked at you the idea would be reinforced, and her trust would continue to grow.” Patricia hadn’t planned on drawing Robert in that direction, the idea just slipped out. She liked it, though. She liked it a lot. She decided to press on, just a bit. “I’m glad you agree, Robert. Plus that will make it so much easier for the women to see when you need changing. Because if you want them to really see how childish you are, you shouldn’t tell them when you are wet. Mommies and sitters know to check their babies; babies don’t tell them. Nod if you agree, Robert.” Robert hesitated for just a moment, but did nod. Patricia took a deep breath, exhaling quietly. She hadn’t planned on planting this suggestion tonight, but it seemed a natural place to do so. Worth the risk. “Then logically, you can see what else you should do, don’t you Robert. Of course you do, you’re only a baby when it comes to toileting, but you’re a very intelligent man otherwise. So I knew you would figure this out. If you want Patricia to continue seeing you as an innocent man-baby, and you know how cute she thinks you are in your diapers, and you’re not going to even bother telling she or Nicole when you need to go potty, then you know what that means, don’t you Robert?” Clearly, he didn’t as a puzzled frown crossed his face. “Of course, Robert. That’s it exactly. Babies don’t just pee in their diapers, do they? They go poo-poo too. So if you want Patricia and Nicky to really believe that you can be trusted, that you are as innocent as a child, then you need to do everything in your diapers. They will expect that, Robert. Going number two in your didies will be the behavior they expect from a baby. They will love you for it.” It took a long time to get Robert to follow that tortured logic and to agree to it, leaving Patricia exhausted. She looked at the door as she began to bring him out of his trance, relieved not to see Nicky there. Patricia hadn’t told her that she would be taking things this far, nor why. She smiled. Nicky was going to get a somewhat unpleasant surprise if this suggestion took hold. Once Robert was awake, Patricia sat next to him on the bed, gazing into his eyes, patting his diaper and smiling affectionately. They remained like that, every bit a loving couple, for a long time before Patricia kissed Robert on the forehead, turned out the light and tiptoed out of the room.