Alex Bridges

To read this and get new chapters sooner, head to my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1550195 Chapter 9: Diagnosis The room was still, the weight of anticipation hanging in the air like an invisible fog. Miriam sat on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, while Michael stood by the window, staring out at the backyard, his arms crossed. Julie and Matt were seated on the loveseat, side by side, their expressions tense as they exchanged glances every now and then. Jenny, Reilly’s babysitter, hovered near the doorway, her posture uncertain, but her face carefully composed. It was a scene of quiet tension, the kind that only deepened in the presence of a truth no one wanted to face. Dr. Carrington sat opposite them in an armchair, her clipboard balanced on her knee, pen poised as though she were still collecting her thoughts. She had spent the past couple days observing Reilly, noting his behaviors, his struggles, and the subtle but undeniable changes in his cognitive and physical abilities. Now, it was time to deliver her diagnosis. “Thank you all for being here,” Dr. Carrington began, her tone calm, steady, and gentle. She glanced around the room, making sure to meet the eyes of each family member. “I know this has been a difficult time for all of you, and I appreciate how much love and support you’ve shown Reilly throughout this process.” Miriam nodded faintly, though her grip on her hands tightened. Julie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, biting her lip, while Matt remained still, his expression unreadable. Michael finally turned away from the window to face the group, though his stance remained stiff. “Based on what I’ve seen,” Dr. Carrington continued, “along with the information you’ve shared with me, I believe that Reilly is in the early stages of what we refer to as adult-onset regression.” The words landed heavily in the room, though no one seemed particularly surprised. It was more the confirmation of a growing suspicion, a fear that had been lingering in the background for some time. “What does that mean, exactly?” Julie asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Dr. Carrington took a breath and leaned forward slightly, her tone compassionate but direct. “Adult-onset regression is a condition where an individual gradually reverts to earlier developmental stages—emotionally, cognitively, and, in some cases, in their physical capabilities as well. It’s a rare condition – about 1 in every 250,000 adults – and while the causes can vary, it often manifests as a response to overwhelming stress or trauma. In Reilly’s case, we know it was his fear of starting college while still wetting the bed at night. He is currently in what we call ‘Stage 1’ of regression.” Miriam exhaled softly, as if she had been holding her breath. Michael uncrossed his arms but stayed silent. The tension in the room deepened, as if everyone was bracing for what came next. “Reilly is experiencing emotional regression,” Dr. Carrington explained, her voice measured and clear. “He is more prone to mood swings, increased frustration, and emotional volatility. These are all signs that his brain is struggling to cope with the demands of adulthood, and as a result, he is beginning to revert to a more childlike emotional state. The poor behavioral choices and tantrums are how those manifest most obviously, but less obviously Reilly is struggling to regulate his emotions and think through them with the clarity an adult should have. You’ve all noted that and adjusted rules and discipline for him, which is exactly what he needs right not.” Julie’s face tightened, and she glanced over at her mother, who remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the floor. “But it’s not just emotional,” Dr. Carrington continued, her eyes shifting to Michael, who was watching her intently now. “Adult-onset regression is a cluster of emotional, cognitive, and physical changes, each of which has its own set of stages. Overall, though, Reilly is entering Stage 2 of regression, where we begin to see the loss of independence in basic tasks. He’s starting to have trouble with things that were once routine like toileting hygiene and managing his own time. He’s still capable of doing these tasks with help, but you’ll likely notice he requires more reminders and assistance.” Matt finally spoke, his voice gruff but laced with concern. “So what are we supposed to do?” Dr. Carrington met his gaze, her tone firm but compassionate. “Supporting him like you’re doing now. It will need to evolve as Reilly’s regression does, but mostly in the way in which you support him. Reilly will need structure and routine to help maintain as much independence as possible, but he will also need your patience as he adjusts to these changes.” Michael stepped forward, his face tense. “And what about… the other stuff? He’s been having… accidents.” Dr. Carrington nodded, her expression gentle. “The incontinence. Reilly is currently in Stage 5 of incontinence, meaning he is having difficulty making it to the bathroom for bowel movements. That’s not typical of regression in stage 1, but Reilly was already wetting his bed, so his handle on continence was already comparatively weak. Difficulty making it to the bathroom for bowel movements is a particularly distressing stage for both the individual and their caregivers. It’s important to approach this with understanding, not shame. Accidents will happen, and he may try to hide them or deny them out of embarrassment. You’ve already put him back in daytime diapers, which is smart. Most families don’t do that until accidents have become the norm, which only makes incontinence more distressing for everyone. You’ve also figured out, as most don’t, that pull-ups can’t handle an adult’s bowel incontinence. Maintaining a compassionate attitude will help him feel more secure.” Miriam pressed her lips together, the weight of this reality sinking in. “Do we …” she ventured … “Is the incontinence going to improve, or at least stay like this? Do we take him to the toilet as if he were potty training or when he asks for it?” Dr. Carrington knew incontinence was often the most difficult struggle both for the patient – losing something so basic and fundamental to their adulthood – and their caregivers, who must take on an unpleasant task but also recognize it as the clearest sign their loved one is changing. “The incontinence is most likely to worsen and eventually become complete. That’s the bad news. The good news, and I know it isn’t great, is Reilly will reach the point where he’s not aware he’s voiding or even aware after the fact. How is that good news? It means the incontinence will at least become less distressing to him.” Jenny, who had been quiet until now, cleared her throat softly. “He’s already been… embarrassed about it. Humiliated or mortified are better words.” Jenny said, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve tried to make it seem like it’s no big deal, but I can tell it bothers him more than anything.” “You’re doing the right thing,” Dr. Carrington reassured her. “Because it is so distressing, it’s good to still take him to the toilet. That gives him the sense of control and maybe even that he’s improving. But don’t treat it like potty training. Just as you don’t shame him for using his diapers, don’t celebrate it when he makes it to the potty. That will only make his accidents seem like much bigger failures to him. Whether he makes it to the toilet or uses his diapers, for now, the less attention you draw to the accidents, the better. Just focus on helping him clean up and move forward.” “So when do we give up on taking him to the toilet altogether,” Matt asked. “It’s different for every patient. My advice is you’ll know when it’s time. At that point, you actually do want to praise him for using his diapers. We call it diaper training, and the purpose is to make him less ashamed of needing diapers and less distressed about accidents. Over time, he’ll become less self-conscious about it, especially as his emotional awareness shifts.” Julie spoke again, her voice tentative. “What about… physically? He’s been dropping things more, and I’ve noticed his hands shaking a little.” Dr. Carrington nodded, flipping to the next page on her clipboard. “That’s another early sign of regression. Reilly is in Stage 1 of physical changes, where we start to see a decline in fine motor skills. His hands are becoming less precise, which is why he’s struggling with tasks like writing and wiping. This will likely progress over time, but for now, it’s important to offer help when he seems frustrated or unable to complete a task on his own.” Michael let out a long breath, his frustration evident. “And what about his mind? He’s been forgetting things, getting distracted all the time.” “That’s also part of Stage 1,” Dr. Carrington said, her tone gentle but firm. “Reilly is experiencing mild forgetfulness and increased distraction. This is the cognitive side of his regression, where he’s starting to lose focus more easily and forget simple things, like where he put something or what he was just doing. It’s not severe at this point, but it’s something you’ll notice more as time goes on. The biggest change you’ll see cognitively is less and less ability to think ahead.” Miriam finally looked up, her eyes full of quiet desperation. “Is he… aware of this? Does he know what’s happening to him?” Dr. Carrington paused, her expression softening. “At this stage, yes. Reilly is still aware that something is changing. That’s where a lot of his frustration is coming from – he knows that things are becoming harder for him, and that’s deeply upsetting. But as the regression continues, his awareness will likely fade. It’s a blessing in a way. Adults in the latter stages of regression tend to be happy provided they are well cared for. They’re very similar to toddlers emotionally and cognitively. If they are happy, they are all the way happy; if they’re not, they’re all the way not. Provided they get the care they need, they’re happy much more often than not. Right now, though, he’s still trying to fight against it, and that’s a source of sadness and anger for him. But over time, he will become more accepting of his new reality.” There was a long, heavy silence in the room, the weight of Dr. Carrington’s words sinking into the hearts of everyone present. The diagnosis, while expected, felt final in a way that none of them were fully prepared for. Julie broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “What do we do now?” Dr. Carrington looked around the room, her gaze landing on each family member, her voice calm but resolute. “You do what you’ve been doing. You support him. You create routines, provide structure, and offer help when he needs it. But most importantly, you show him love and patience. Reilly is still Reilly. This process will change him, yes, but your support will be the anchor that keeps him grounded as he navigates these changes.” Miriam nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. Michael’s expression softened as he moved to stand beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Julie and Matt exchanged a glance, both of them quiet but resolved. Jenny, still standing by the doorway, spoke up again. “And if things get worse?” Dr. Carrington met her gaze. “Then you reach out for more support. I’ll be with you every step of the way, and there are other resources available—support groups, additional caregivers, and therapeutic options. You don’t have to do this alone.” Dr. Carrington observed the family as they digested the diagnosis, the weight of the information settling slowly. Reilly’s regression was real, but he was still early in the process, and now it was time to focus on how to navigate this challenging new reality. Behavior management would be critical to maintaining structure and ensuring that Reilly felt secure as his emotional and cognitive state shifted. “We’ve gone over where Reilly is in his regression,” Dr. Carrington began, her calm, measured voice cutting through the silence, “but now we need to talk about behavior. Specifically, how to manage misbehavior in the context of his regression.” Miriam nodded, looking more determined than uncertain. “We’ve already had to discipline him—timeouts, taking away privileges, and even spanking. Like I told, he was the one who actually wanted spanking, but not as discipline. He thought it would help with his bedwetting. Look where we are now. It’s been hard to know if we’re doing the right thing.” Dr. Carrington offered a reassuring smile. “That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss. What you’ve been doing—timeouts, taking away privileges, and spanking—are all appropriate responses, even more so as Reilly’s regression progresses. As his emotional and cognitive control diminishes, he’ll become more prone to emotional outbursts and misbehavior. Discipline isn’t about punishment or shame—it’s about structure, which helps him feel safe.” Michael, standing by the window with his arms crossed, looked up thoughtfully. “So how do we know when it’s misbehavior and not just the regression?” “Excellent question,” Dr. Carrington said, her tone firm but kind. “The key is understanding where Reilly is cognitively. He’s entering Stage 2 of emotional regression, which means that while his emotional maturity is slipping, he’s still capable of understanding rules and consequences. When Reilly breaks rules he know he has, is dishonest, refuses to cooperate with diaper changes, or ignores your instructions, that’s misbehavior—especially if he knows he’s doing something wrong.” Julie shifted in her seat. “He knows, all right. He’ll push back when it’s something he doesn’t want to do, like when we tell him it’s time for bed.” “And that’s exactly when discipline becomes crucial,” Dr. Carrington explained. “The goal isn’t to punish Reilly, but to reinforce boundaries that help him navigate his world. Right now, all of these rules and routines – the nap time, the early bedtime, asking permission for things he didn’t need permission for just a couple months ago, certain choices he can’t make himself – it feels intrusive and unnecessary. But it is necessary, maybe not crucial yet but it will be in the near future. As he regresses emotionally, he’ll need more guidance, and clear, consistent consequences will help him feel secure and will make your job as caregivers much easier.” Matt, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, added, “So, how do we make sure we’re handling it the right way? I’m not always sure when we should step in.” “Discipline, especially for a regressed adult like Reilly, is most effective when it’s used consistently,” Dr. Carrington replied. “You want to be authoritative, not authoritarian. Let him have a say when you can; give him limited options to pick from. Don’t overreact if he’s arguing back. If he won’t make a decision, or keeps arguing after you’ve made the decision and told him it’s final, you can use the same strategies you’ve already been using. Natural consequences are always best when possible. When they’re not, timeouts, which are a good opportunity for everyone to calm down and loss of privileges like taking away toys or screen time are excellent tools. And, as you mentioned, spanking can be used when his behavior escalates. It’s not about punishment, but about creating structure.” Miriam sighed softly. “He responds to spanking, but I always feel bad about it afterward. He’s already so embarrassed about needing extra care.” Dr. Carrington’s expression softened. “That’s understandable. But spanking, in this context, serves an important purpose. It stops the misbehavior before it spirals out of control. Regressed adults like Reilly, especially with their adult-sized bodies, can become a danger to themselves or others if misbehavior or tantrums escalate. There’s a difference, by the way: a true tantrum is the result of them having bigger emotions than they can handle in the moment. It’s not something they plan or control, especially as the regression deepens and they lose some of their ability for abstract thinking. You can’t throw a tantrum to get what you want if you’re cognitively unable to understand how your behavior influences others’ behavior or plan ahead. Until that point, however, some outbursts that seem like tantrums aren’t; they’re misbehavior.” She let that sink in for a moment. “If Reilly really were a toddler, I would advise against punishment for true tantrums because they’re not deliberate. Natural consequences are better in those cases. If they tantrum in the toy store, you leave the store. Every parent has been there. With a regressive adult, you can’t count on a tantrum not escalating to the point of throwing, hitting, kicking, or destructive behavior. And you can’t just pick Reilly up and take him out of the toy store. That’s why whether it’s a true tantrum or misbehavior, the goal is always to nip it in the bud. By stepping in early with firm discipline, you’re preventing those dangerous behaviors. Remember, it’s about keeping him and you safe, not about punishment.” Michael, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “And he’ll need that consistency no matter where he is, right?” Dr. Carrington nodded. “Exactly. What’s most important is maintaining consistency—whether you’re at home, out in public, or visiting family. Reilly should experience the same care and discipline no matter the setting. That means following through with things like diaper changes, timeouts, or even spanking, wherever you are.” Matt furrowed his brow. “But what about when we’re out in public? We’ve had situations where he’s refused to cooperate, and it’s… awkward.” “I understand it can be uncomfortable,” Dr. Carrington said. “But the worst thing you can do is avoid disciplining him because you’re worried about public embarrassment. If Reilly realizes that the rules only apply at home, his behavior will get worse whenever you’re out. You need to be just as firm in public as you are at home.” Julie glanced at her brother, then back at Dr. Carrington. “It’s hard to imagine spanking him in public… but I get what you’re saying. If we don’t follow through, he’ll think he can get away with it.” Dr. Carrington gave a small nod. “Exactly. Consistency is key. Whether it’s a timeout in a quiet corner of a store or a spanking in a restroom or the car, the discipline needs to happen when the behavior occurs. Reilly will learn that the rules are the same no matter where he is. This helps prevent more serious misbehavior from developing.” Michael’s expression softened slightly. “So, you’re saying it’s not about embarrassment—it’s about what’s best for him.” “That’s right,” Dr. Carrington said. “Compare it to a diaper change. If Reilly has a messy diaper away from home, you change it, right? If he sits in a messy diaper for an extra hour, though, there’s no harm done. If he has a messy tantrum, however, real harm is a possibility. That’s why you deal with it right away, know matter where you are. You’re not just correcting behavior—you’re helping him understand the boundaries that will keep him safe and secure. Yes, there will be awkward moments, and both Reilly and you all will feel embarrassed at times. But avoiding discipline because of embarrassment will only lead to more problems. Inconsistent care could lead to Reilly becoming house-bound, and house-bound regressed adults are often miserable.” Miriam winced slightly. “I don’t want that for him.” “And it won’t happen,” Dr. Carrington reassured her. “As long as you keep taking him out, involving him in family activities, and caring for him consistently, Reilly can continue to be part of the world around him. The embarrassment will fade, and you’ll find that people often become more understanding over time.” Matt crossed his arms thoughtfully. “I can’t imagine what people will say or do if they see Reilly getting scolded in public, let alone spanked in the car.” “I know,” Dr. Carrington replied. “It’s so far outside the norm. That’s why you keep the medical alert bracelet on Reilly and also those cards I gave you explaining Reilly’s condition and care. If you have any issues, show the card. You’d be surprise, though, how much people will mind their own business. It also gets easier over time as Reilly’s regression becomes visibly apparent.” She considered for a moment and added, “It’s not on families to be the champions of adult-onset regression or solve all the problems we have socially in caring for victims, but by caring for Reilly consistently and lovingly in public, you’re also raising awareness about this rare condition. The more people see a family caring for a regressed adult with compassion, the more people will know adult-onset regression exists and we combat the stigma surrounding disabilities like this more broadly. You’ll be surprised at how understanding people can be once they realize what’s happening.” Michael let out a deep breath. “So we just keep going. Keep involving him, keep taking him places.” Dr. Carrington smiled. “Yes. Reilly is still part of your family, and he deserves to participate in life just like anyone else. By giving him the structure and care he needs—whether at home or away from it—you’re ensuring that he doesn’t become isolated. And that’s what will make all the difference for his well-being. Home-bound regressive adults tend to be very unhappy, and their decline is much more rapid. Many families end up institutionalizing their loved one, and that can be avoided if you keep Reilly active and involved and care for him lovingly and consistently. I know this sounds like the worst thing that can happy to Reilly and to your family, and you will hate me for saying this, but it’s not. Well-cared for regressive adults and their families lead happy lives. It’s not easy, but it’s possible.” Miriam looked at her family, her resolve clear. “We can do that. We’ll keep taking him out, keep caring for him—no matter how hard it gets.” “Good,” Dr. Carrington said, her voice warm with approval. “Consistency, structure, and love—that’s what will help Reilly navigate his regression. And you’re already doing such an incredible job. Remember, it’s about giving Reilly the stability he needs to thrive, both at home and out in the world, whether he’s with you or another caregiver or authority figure.” ____ To continue reading the next chapter, head to my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1550195

To read ahead, go to my SubscribeStar. Chapter 8: Once a Simple Task Reilly was squirming in place on the couch, his face tense and flushed with effort. Jenny, seated nearby with her phone in hand, glanced over at him, noticing the familiar signs of discomfort and fidgeting that often meant one thing. She’d been keeping an eye on him all afternoon, and it was clear to her that Reilly was battling with the urge to go to the bathroom—but, as usual, he wasn’t doing anything about it or speaking up. She put her phone down and leaned forward, her tone gentle but encouraging. “Reilly, do you need to use the potty?” Reilly froze, his eyes darting up to meet hers before quickly looking away again. He hated how she could always tell. His cheeks reddened, and he mumbled, “I’m fine.” But Jenny had seen this before. She stood up and walked over to him, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay if you need to go. Let’s get you to the bathroom so you can try, okay?” Reilly hesitated, but after a moment, he gave a small, reluctant nod. He didn’t want to admit that she was right, but the pressure was building, and he knew he couldn’t hold it much longer. At least this time, he might be able to make it in time. Jenny gently placed a hand on his back, guiding him toward the bathroom. “You’re doing great, Reilly,” she said softly. “We’ll get there, and you’ll feel a lot better once you go. Just take your time.” The walk down the hall felt like an eternity for Reilly. His heart pounded in his chest, and the pressure in his stomach made him feel like he was on the verge of losing control. He hated this feeling—the mixture of fear and embarrassment, knowing that every step could mean the difference between success and another humiliating accident. When they finally reached the bathroom, Reilly hesitated at the door, unsure of what to do next. He didn’t want to admit that he needed help, but the reality of his situation weighed heavily on him. His nervousness and embarrassment had him almost shaking. His hands fumbled with the drawstring on his shorts, but Jenny stepped in. “Let me help you, sweetie,” she said, her voice soft and reassuring. She knelt down and gently tugged his shorts down, then carefully pulled at the tapes of his diaper. The padding was slightly damp, and Reilly’s face flushed with embarrassment as she peeled it away. “There we go,” Jenny said, offering him a kind smile as she set the diaper aside. “Now you can sit down. Just take your time.” Reilly quickly sat down on the toilet, his face burning with humiliation. He was grateful that Jenny didn’t hover too close, but the fact that she had to help him at all confused him – Why hadn’t he taken himself to the bathroom? Did he even think to? He couldn’t remember. It made his stomach churn. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be—he was supposed to be able to do this on his own, like any other adult. “I’ll give you some privacy,” Jenny said gently, standing up and stepping toward the door. She gave him one last reassuring look before stepping out, pulling the door halfway closed to give him some space. Reilly sat there for a moment, staring at the floor. He hated how dependent he had become, how something as simple as using the bathroom had turned into this big ordeal. Or maybe he wasn’t dependent. Maybe they were making him think he was by the way they treated him, not letting him do stuff himself that he’d done all by his lonesome for most of his life. Maybe he shouldn’t be embarrassed but righteously angry. But despite the embarrassment, and maybe a hint of anger, a small part of him felt a flicker of pride. He had made it to the potty. He hadn’t had an accident—not this time, at least. And that flicker of pride made him angry, foremost at himself. He knew he shouldn’t feel proud of not having an accident; potty training toddlers feel that way. Not people starting college in the fall. It took a few minutes, but eventually, Reilly finished. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of pride and lingering humiliation swirling inside him. He took a deep breath and called out, “Jenny… I’m done.” Before he could wonder why he announced it, Jenny stepped back into the bathroom, her expression calm and reassuring. “Good job, Reilly,” she said, smiling as she approached him. “I’m really proud of you for making it in time.” Reilly felt a small surge of pride at her words, but it was quickly overshadowed again by embarrassment as Jenny knelt down beside him again. He shifted uncomfortably on the toilet seat, unsure of what to do next. “Okay, let’s make sure you’re all cleaned up,” Jenny said gently, reaching for some toilet paper. She paused for a moment and looked up at him. “Stay seated for me, alright? I just want to make sure you did a good job wiping.” Reilly’s face flushed bright red. The idea of her checking him—wiping him—was mortifying. He fidgeted in place, shaking his head slightly. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, his voice thick with embarrassment. “I…I wiped.” Jenny’s expression softened, and she placed a gentle hand on his knee. “I’m sure you tried, Reilly,” she said softly. “But it’s important to make sure you’re all clean. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about—I’m here to help you with things like this. It’s what I’m here for, okay?” Reilly swallowed hard, his face still burning. He didn’t want to argue, but the thought of Jenny wiping him was too much to bear. He shifted uncomfortably again, but after a long, tense pause, he finally gave a small nod. “Good boy,” Jenny said with a kind smile, her voice soothing as she took some toilet paper and gently had him lean forward. “Just relax, okay? I’ll be really gentle.” Reilly held his breath as she wiped him, his face bright red as he stared at the wall in front of him. The sensation was strange and humiliating, and he felt like he was being treated like a child, maybe even more so than when he got his diaper changed. But Jenny was calm and kind, her touch gentle and methodical as she wiped him clean. After a moment, Jenny paused, glancing down at the paper. “You’re still a little dirty, but that’s okay,” she said gently. “It’s nothing to worry about. That’s why I’m here—to help you with this sort of thing.” Reilly didn’t respond, but he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from spilling over. He didn’t want to cry in front of Jenny—not over something like this. Jenny finished wiping him. “Alright, all done here,” she said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. “Now, let’s wash our hands, and we’ll get you all cleaned up and back in a fresh diaper.” Reilly stood up slowly, avoiding her gaze as he shuffled over to the sink. He washed his hands in silence, his mind racing with a mixture of emotions. He was proud that he’d made it to the potty in time, but the whole experience had still left him feeling raw and exposed. Jenny, meanwhile, picked up the slightly damp diaper from the floor and folded it neatly, setting it aside, then washed her own hands. She then walked over to Reilly, and had him step out of shorts so he wouldn’t trip, placing a gentle hand on his back. “You did a great job, Reilly,” she said softly. “I know this is hard for you, but you’re doing really well.” Reilly gave a small nod, still avoiding her eyes as he dried his hands. The compliment felt good but wrong. “Let’s go to your room and get you comfortable,” Jenny said, her voice soothing as she guided him out of the bathroom and down the hall, he cool breeze on his bare butt reminding him of his situation and preventing him from just appreciating how kind Jenny was. Once they were in his room, Jenny patted the changing pad on the bed. “Go ahead and lie down, sweetie. I’ll finish wiping you up, and then we’ll get you into a fresh diaper.” Reilly hesitated for a moment, his stomach twisting with embarrassment, but he lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as Jenny gathered the supplies. Jenny moved slowly, not wanting to rush him. She knelt down beside him, grabbing some fresh wipes and gently cleaning his skin, the vantage point letting her do a more thorough job. And she was thorough, making sure he was completely clean before reaching for a new diaper. “You’re doing so well, Reilly,” she murmured as she worked. “I know it’s embarrassing, but this is just part of the routine now. And remember, it’s much better to have a clean diaper than to worry about accidents. You’re doing great.” Reilly stayed silent, his chest tight with emotion, but he appreciated her words more than he could express. He felt her fasten the diaper around him, the soft rips of the tapes and the crinkles the only sounds in the room. Once she was done, Jenny helped him sit up, giving him a warm smile as she sat down beside him on the bed. “You were really brave, Reilly,” she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I know this isn’t easy, but you’re doing an amazing job. And I’m really proud of you.” Reilly sniffled softly, blinking away the tears that had been threatening to fall. He didn’t say anything, but the warmth of Jenny’s arm around him made him feel a little more secure, a little more understood. “I know this is hard,” Jenny continued, her voice gentle. “But it’s going to get easier. And I’ll always be here to help you, okay? You’re not alone in this.” Reilly nodded, still too choked up to speak. He leaned into her slightly, grateful for her presence, even if he couldn’t put it into words, and even if part of him still resented her. After a few moments, Jenny asked softly, “Do you want to talk about anything, Reilly?” Reilly shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “No…” “That’s okay,” Jenny said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m just here for you.” Reilly sniffled again, his body still tense from the emotional weight of the day. Jenny rubbed his back gently, her presence warm and comforting. “Do you want to take a nap?” she asked softly. Reilly nodded, feeling exhausted from everything that had happened. “Yeah…” Jenny smiled and helped him lie down, tucking the blanket around him as she brushed a hand through his hair. “Okay, sweetie. Get some rest. You did a great job today.” As Reilly’s eyes fluttered closed, Jenny stayed by his side for a moment, watching as his breathing slowed and his body relaxed. ______________ To keep reading, go to my SubscribeStar.

Chapter 7: False Alarms, Missed Signals Reilly had been fidgeting for the past twenty minutes, his leg bouncing up and down as he sat on the couch next to Jenny. She had been keeping an eye on him, recognizing the signs of his discomfort, but she also noticed that he had been making frequent trips to the bathroom all day without much success. It was becoming clear to her that Reilly was trying desperately to avoid using his diaper, but it was also clear that it was causing him a lot of frustration. Just as Jenny was about to say something, Reilly stood up suddenly, his face flushed with determination. "I—I need to go to the bathroom again," he muttered, heading quickly toward the hallway. Jenny sighed softly, standing up to follow him. “Reilly, wait,” she called gently, trying to catch up with him. “You’ve been going back and forth all day. Are you sure you need to go?” Reilly didn’t look at her, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Yes, I’m sure,” he muttered, quickening his pace as he reached the bathroom. “I don’t want to have an accident.” Jenny caught up to him just as he pushed the bathroom door open. She could see the tension in his body, the way he was so determined to prove that he could make it in time, but she also knew that he had been struggling with these false alarms all day. It was as if he was trying to outsmart his own body, and it was wearing him down. “Reilly, it’s okay,” Jenny said softly, stepping into the bathroom behind him. “You don’t need to rush every time you think you have to go. Your body is still adjusting, and sometimes it’s hard to tell.” Reilly shot her a frustrated look, his face red with embarrassment. “I can tell!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. “I just… I don’t want to wet myself again. I know I need to go.” Jenny took a deep breath, trying to remain calm even as she saw the frustration bubbling over in him. “Okay,” she said gently, “let’s sit down, and we’ll see if you need to go.” She knelt down and gently helped him pull down his shorts and diaper, her movements slow and calm so as not to add to his anxiety. Reilly sat down on the toilet with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at the floor. His leg bounced nervously, and Jenny could tell that he was working himself up even more with every passing moment. After a few minutes of silence, Reilly let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with frustration. Jenny nodded, her tone soft and understanding. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “Sometimes your body plays tricks on you, and it feels like you have to go even when you don’t. That’s why your parents put you in diapers, remember? To take away that stress.” Reilly’s face flushed even more at the mention of the diapers, and he looked away, embarrassed and angry at the same time. He hated being reminded of the fact that he needed them, hated that he couldn’t control his body the way he wanted to. “Let’s get you dressed again,” Jenny said softly, standing up and gently pulling his diaper back into place. “You don’t need to worry about it. If you have an accident, that’s what the diaper is for.” But just as she finished pulling his diaper up and fastening the tapes, Reilly’s face froze. His breath hitched, and Jenny immediately realized what had happened. The soft sound of liquid hitting the absorbent material reached her ears, and her heart sank. Reilly had flooded his diaper almost as soon as she had finished putting it back on. Reilly’s face turned beet red with humiliation, but that embarrassment quickly gave way to anger. “See?” he yelled, his voice cracking with frustration. “I did have to go! I knew it, and you didn’t let me!” Jenny took a step back, caught off guard by the intensity of his outburst. She could see the tears welling up in his eyes, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at her. His face was a mix of anger, shame, and betrayal, and Jenny’s heart ached for him. “Reilly, it’s okay,” Jenny said softly, trying to keep her voice calm despite the tension in the air. “It’s not your fault. Sometimes your body just doesn’t give you enough warning, and that’s why you have the diaper.” But Reilly shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. “You didn’t listen to me!” he shouted, his voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t believe me! I knew I had to go, and now I’m all wet!” Jenny felt a lump form in her throat as she watched him struggle with his emotions. She hadn’t meant to dismiss his feelings, but now he was too upset to see that she had been trying to help. She took a deep breath, knowing that she needed to soothe him before this escalated even further. “I’m so sorry, Reilly,” she said softly, stepping closer to him. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I wasn’t listening. I know how frustrating this is for you. I know you’re trying your best.” Reilly sniffled, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared at the floor. He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want to hear her apologies. All he wanted was to feel in control again, and right now, that felt impossible. Jenny knelt down beside him, her voice gentle and filled with empathy. “You’re doing so well, Reilly,” she said softly. “This isn’t your fault. It’s just your body doing what it does sometimes, and that’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay.” Reilly wiped at his eyes angrily, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to wear diapers,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “I hate them.” Jenny reached out and placed a gentle hand on his arm, her touch light and comforting. “I know you do,” she said softly. “And I understand why. But you don’t have to go through this alone, Reilly. I’m here to help you, and I’m not going to let you face this by yourself.” Reilly sniffled again, his shoulders slumping as some of the anger began to drain out of him. He still felt humiliated, still felt betrayed by his own body, but Jenny’s voice was calm, soothing, and he couldn’t stay mad at her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Jenny gave him a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to apologize, sweetie,” she said gently. “I know you’re frustrated, and that’s okay. I just want you to know that I’m on your side, no matter what.” Reilly finally looked up at her, his eyes red and glassy with tears. “I just wanted to make it,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted to prove I didn’t need the diaper.” Jenny’s heart broke at his words, and she gently reached out to wipe away a tear from his cheek. “I know, Reilly,” she said softly. “I know you’re trying, and I’m so proud of you for that. But sometimes, even when we try our best, things don’t always go the way we want them to. And that’s okay.” Reilly nodded slightly, his body still trembling with the aftermath of his emotions. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Jenny said, her voice soft and kind. “We’ll put on a fresh diaper, and then we can do something fun. How does that sound?” Reilly didn’t say anything at first, but eventually, he gave a small nod. He still felt embarrassed and frustrated, but Jenny’s calm presence was starting to ease some of the tension inside him. Jenny stood up and gently helped him out of his wet diaper, her movements slow and careful. As she wiped him down and got him into a fresh diaper, she kept talking, her voice soothing and steady. “You’re doing great, Reilly,” she murmured as she worked. “I know this is hard, but you’re handling it really well. It’s okay to feel frustrated, and it’s okay to be upset. But just know that I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere.” Reilly stayed quiet, but he appreciated her words more than he could express. By the time she had finished changing him, some of the tension had left his body, and though he still felt embarrassed, he no longer felt angry. Once he was in a fresh diaper, Jenny helped him sit up and gave him a gentle smile. “You’re doing great, Reilly,” she said softly. “And I’m really proud of you.” Reilly looked down at his hands, still feeling the weight of his emotions, but he nodded slightly. “Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice small. Jenny wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. “You’re welcome, sweetie,” she whispered. “And remember, I’m always here for you. No matter what.” As they sat there together, the tension slowly ebbed away, leaving behind a quiet understanding between them. Reilly knew that things wouldn’t always be easy, but with Jenny by his side, he also knew that he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

Reilly will get a formal diagnosis in an upcoming chapter. It's already up on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1545012

The next 3 chapters are already on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges Chapter 6: A Consequence From His Big Sister The day had started off smoothly enough. Julie was tasked with watching Reilly for the afternoon while their parents were out running errands. Jenny had the day off, so it was up to Julie to make sure her little brother stayed on track with his routine. Reilly didn’t mind; he liked hanging out with his older sister. They usually played video games together or watched movies, and Julie had a way of keeping things relaxed. But today was different. Reilly had been on edge since the morning. Maybe it was the discussion the family had the previous evening about the psychologist who would be observing Reilly for a few days, or perhaps it was just one of those days when nothing felt quite right. Whatever it was, his mood was simmering just below the surface, and Julie could see it. "Hey, Reilly," she called from the living room, glancing at her phone. "You want to play some games after lunch? I was thinking we could finish that new one you started last week." Reilly was sitting at the kitchen table, poking at the sandwich Julie had made him. He barely looked up, mumbling something that sounded like, "Maybe later." Julie raised an eyebrow but didn’t push it. She knew Reilly well enough to recognize when he needed space. Still, she had to keep things on track. Mom and Dad had left her with clear instructions: make sure Reilly eats, keeps up with his routine, and stays out of trouble. After a few minutes, Julie walked over to the table and sat down across from him. "You haven’t touched your food," she pointed out gently. "Come on, you know you need to eat." Reilly scowled, pushing the plate away with more force than necessary. "I’m not hungry." "Reilly," Julie’s voice softened, but there was a hint of firmness. "You need to have lunch. You have to eat something today with some protein in it. I’ll even let you have something sugary Mom would kill me for later." "I said I’m not hungry!" Reilly snapped, his frustration bubbling over. Just a week ago he ate when he wanted and what he wanted, for the most part. Now mealtimes were part of his routine, and while he had a say in what he ate, he was no longer the decider. Julie blinked, taken aback by his tone. "Okay, relax. I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just—" "I’m not a baby, Julie!" Reilly stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back. His voice was loud, too loud, and the frustration that had been simmering all day was suddenly boiling over. Julie’s expression shifted, her usual relaxed demeanor replaced by something more serious. "Reilly, calm down." "I don’t need you bossing me around! I can do what I want!" His fists clenched at his sides, his face flushed with anger. He didn’t know why he was so upset, but it felt like everything was closing in on him. He didn’t want to be told what to do, not by anyone. Julie stood up slowly, her eyes never leaving Reilly’s face. She was trying to stay calm, but she knew this could escalate if she didn’t handle it carefully. "Reilly, you need to settle down. I’m just trying to help." "I don’t need your help!" Reilly shouted, taking a step back. Julie took a deep breath. She had seen this before—Reilly’s moods could spiral quickly, and once he hit a certain point, reasoning with him was almost impossible. But she couldn’t let him think it was okay to act like this, even when it was just the two of them. It wasn’t only poor behavior, but spiraling toward a tantrum, and tantrums from regressed adults could end in someone getting hurt. "Alright," she said calmly, her voice firm. "If you’re going to keep acting like this, we’re going to have to deal with it." Reilly’s eyes widened slightly, recognizing the tone. It was the tone Mom or Dad used when things were about to get serious. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice shaky now, the anger starting to give way to uncertainty. "You know what I mean," Julie replied, crossing her arms. "You’re misbehaving, and we need to deal with it before it gets worse." Reilly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the realization of what was coming sinking in. He hated this part. He hated that he couldn’t control his emotions sometimes and that it always led to this. "I’ll eat," he mumbled, glancing at the sandwich like it was suddenly the most important thing in the world. Julie shook her head. "It’s not about the sandwich anymore, Reilly. It’s about how you’re acting. When you get upset, you use your words and talk to me calmly and respectfully. We don’t shout in this house, and we don’t knock over chairs." Reilly looked down at his feet, his face red with embarrassment. He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier. "Come on," Julie said, her voice still calm but firm. "You know what happens when you misbehave." Reilly’s stomach dropped. "Please, Julie... I didn’t mean it." Julie sighed softly. "I know you didn’t. But you still have to face the consequences, Reilly. It’s how we keep things in check, remember?" He nodded slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. He hated this part, but deep down, he knew it was necessary. He had been out of control, and Julie was only trying to help him get back on track. "Let’s take a moment to cool down in the corner," Julie said, motioning for him to follow. Reilly dragged his feet, the shame of the situation settling over him like a heavy blanket. Julie had disciplined him before, just like Mom and Dad did. She was always fair, never angry, but it didn’t make the experience any less humiliating. They reached the corner. "Alright, you know the drill. Five minutes, no talking. Take some deep breaths and think about what you should’ve done differently." She gave him a departing swat on the butt, far from hard, meant only to underscore what the next consequence might be if he didn’t take this one to heart. She sat down at the table and scrolled through her phone for the five minutes. Reilly, in the corner, spent those five minutes feeling embarrassed to be put in the corner like a naughty little boy. He knew it was part consequence and part calming technique, but the former always loomed larger. Even the calming part was embarrassing: he needed someone else to tell him to take a moment to gather himself, and he hadn’t until relatively recently. If consequences were a way he was losing control of what he did, the inability to react proportionally to something as minor as a bad mood and to check his own temper were ways in which he was losing control of himself. He knew it, it worried him, and he hated it. Reilly stood there, his eyes fixed on the floor. His chest tightened with anxiety, but there was no way out of this now. The alarm on Julie’s phone chimed. “Time’s up. Come sit with me.” Still looking at his floor, red-faced and unwilling to meet the eye of someone who was very recently his equal, he sat down next to her. "I don’t like doing that," she said softly. "But you know why it has to happen, right?" Reilly nodded, his face red, but the anger from earlier had evaporated, leaving only guilt behind. "I’m sorry," he muttered. Julie put a hand on his shoulder, her voice gentle again. "It’s okay. You just need to remember that when you’re feeling frustrated, you can talk to me instead of lashing out. I’m here to help, not to boss you around." Reilly nodded again, feeling the weight of the situation lift slightly. Julie had always been good at making him feel better, even after moments like this. "Come on," Julie said, sliding his plate toward him. "You still need to eat lunch, and after that, we can play some games. Sound good?" Reilly hesitated, then took her hand. "Yeah... that sounds good." As he finished his sandwich, Reilly felt a mix of relief and exhaustion. He hated misbehaving, but he knew that with Julie around, he’d always have someone who understood him—even when he didn’t fully understand himself. The next 3 chapters are already on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges

For the next chapter and early releases, subscribe to my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1509452 Chapter 5: Jenny’s First Day with Reilly To make the transition easier for Reilly, for the first few days, she had come over while Miriam was at home, allowing him to get used to her. Despite their best efforts, however, he preferred his mom in all things. On their first morning alone after Miriam had gone back to work, it still felt strange to him to ask Jenny for anything, or really even to speak to her or let her see to his needs. Jenny didn’t mind the quiet, having anticipated it, but it wore on Reilly’s nerves. Reilly was sitting on the couch in the living room, absently flipping through channels on the TV. His eyes flickered toward Jenny every so often, as if he was trying to gauge her mood, trying to find the right moment to speak. Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and muttered, “Jenny… I, um, need to go to the bathroom.” It was a small victory, not only because he hadn’t had an accident but because he told her. Even telling his mom when he needed to go felt unnatural to him still. Jenny glanced up from the book she’d been reading, catching the nervousness in his voice. “Of course, Reilly. Let’s go,” she said gently, standing up and offering him a reassuring smile. She knew this was a delicate situation for him, and she didn’t want to add to his anxiety. Reilly stood up slowly, his movements stiff and hesitant. Jenny noticed how tense he seemed, his steps faltering as they made their way down the hall toward the bathroom. It wasn’t far—just a short walk—but with each step, Reilly seemed to grow more anxious, his body rigid with nerves. About halfway there, Jenny saw it—the slight pause in his step, the way his face flushed red with embarrassment. She didn’t need him to say it to know what had just happened. “I, um… I don’t need to go after all,” Reilly mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact. Jenny’s heart sank. She could tell he was trying to hide the truth, and she hated seeing him so embarrassed. “Reilly, it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice calm and kind. “Accidents happen sometimes. That’s why you’re in diapers, remember? It’s not your fault.” Reilly’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he looked down at his feet, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “I just didn’t have to go. I thought I did, but …” Jenny stepped closer, her expression gentle. “Let me check, okay? Just to be sure.” She kept her tone light, not wanting to make him feel any more uncomfortable than he already was. Reilly hesitated but nodded just so slightly, his body language stiff and reluctant. Jenny knelt down, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. She carefully pulled them down just enough to feel the front of his diaper, then reached between his legs and felt his bottom. It was damp and not warm. He had been wet for a while. Jenny’s heart ached for him. She wasn’t sure if he knew he was wet before this most recent accident, and she decided not to ask. It was moot. That’s what the diapers were for. “You’re wet, sweetie,” she said softly, standing up and giving him a gentle smile. “Let’s go to your room and get you changed, alright?” Reilly didn’t respond, but the slight slump of his shoulders told Jenny everything she needed to know. He was embarrassed, nervous, and unsure of what to say. Jenny placed a reassuring hand on his back as she guided him toward his bedroom. Once they were inside, Reilly stood awkwardly by his bed, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He looked down at the floor, avoiding Jenny’s gaze. It was clear that he was struggling with the idea of letting her change him for the first time without his mom there. Jenny sat down on the edge of his bed, her voice gentle and understanding. “Reilly, I know you’re nervous. This is new for both of us, and that’s okay. But I’m here to help you. Whenever you’re ready, we can get you changed.” Reilly didn’t say anything. He just sat down next to her, his face flushed, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to process the situation. Jenny could feel the weight of his discomfort, and she knew he needed time. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a blanket. Jenny didn’t rush him. She knew how important it was for Reilly to feel in control, even in moments like this. He needed to be the one to make the decision for a change, even if that sort of control was just an illusion he clung to. After a while, Jenny shifted on the bed, her tone still soft and patient. “It’s okay, Reilly. I’ll be really gentle, and it won’t take long. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m your friend, and I’m here to take care of you. Are you ready?” Reilly sniffled softly, his hands gripping the fabric of his bedspread tightly. He didn’t say anything, his breathing shallow as he tried to steady himself. Jenny placed a hand on his knee, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing great,” she whispered. “We’ll go at your pace. You don’t have to rush.” Reilly took a shaky breath and nodded slightly, his eyes still fixed on the floor. After another moment of hesitation, he finally lay back on the bed, his face turned away from Jenny, his body stiff with anxiety. Jenny’s heart swelled with empathy. She could see how hard this was for him, how vulnerable he felt. She wanted to make this as easy as possible. “You’re doing really well, Reilly,” she said softly, as she carefully pulled his shorts down his legs, exposing his soggy diaper. From the basket under his nightstand she retrieved what she needed to change him and set it next to him. She untaped the sides of his diaper, lifted it slightly, and left is over him just in case he wasn’t quite done.. “I’m here with you, and I promise this will be over quickly. I’m going to be really gentle.” Reilly didn’t respond, but his body trembled slightly, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Jenny could hear him sniffle again, and her heart ached for him. She knew this was more than just a physical process—this was emotional, intimate, and deeply personal for him. It was important for her to handle it with care. She moved slowly, carefully pulling the wet diaper away from his body. Her movements were deliberate, wanting to make sure Reilly knew he was safe in her hands. She reached for the wipes, gently cleaning his skin with soft strokes. Reilly stayed still, but she could see the tension in his body, the way he squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block out the embarrassment. “It’s okay, Reilly,” Jenny murmured as she worked, her voice calm and soothing. “You’re doing great. I know this is hard, but I’m really proud of you. I’m here to help, and I’ll always take care of you.” Reilly let out a shaky breath, still not speaking, but Jenny could see the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He was on the verge of crying, and she could feel the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. She wiped him clean with care, making sure every part of him was tended to. She didn’t rush—she knew he needed time to get used to the feel of her hands, an intimacy he would need to get used to. Once he was clean, Jenny reached for the fresh diaper and slid it under him. She sprinkled some powder over his skin before carefully fastening the tapes, making sure the diaper fit snugly but comfortably. “All done,” she said softly, gently patting his leg. “You did such a good job, Reilly. I’m really proud of you.” Reilly didn’t say anything, but the tension in his body seemed to ease slightly. Jenny helped him sit up, moving slowly so as not to overwhelm him. Once he was sitting, she sat down next to him on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a comforting embrace. “You were really brave,” Jenny whispered, resting her head lightly against his. “I know how hard this is for you, but it’s going to get easier. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m always going to be here for you. And remember, this isn’t a big deal. It’s normal for both of us; it may not feel that way yet, but we’ll get there.” Reilly sniffled again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. He still didn’t speak, but Jenny could feel the way he leaned into her, seeking comfort. She rubbed his back gently, offering him all the support and care she could. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Jenny continued softly. “This is just part of the routine now. And remember, it’s better to have a wet diaper than wet pants, right? You’re doing the best you can, and that’s what matters.” Reilly nodded slightly, his head still down, his voice thick with emotion. “Yeah…” Jenny smiled softly, glad to see him starting to come around. She held him close, letting the silence fill the space between them, giving him time to process everything. After a few minutes, she spoke again, her voice gentle and kind. “Do you want to talk about anything, Reilly?” she asked, her tone inviting but not pressuring him. Reilly shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… not really.” “That’s okay,” Jenny said, still holding him close. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m just here to listen if you ever need to.” Reilly sniffled again, wiping at his nose. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally, and all he wanted was to crawl under the covers and shut out the world for a little while. “Do you want to take a nap?” Jenny asked gently, noticing how tired he seemed. Reilly nodded slowly, his body slumping against her. “Yeah… I’m tired.” Jenny smiled softly and stood up, helping Reilly get under the covers. She tucked the blanket around him, smoothing it out and making sure he was comfortable. As she did, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her voice full of warmth and care. “You did a really good job today, Reilly,” she whispered. “I’m proud of you. Get some rest, okay?” Reilly looked up at her, his eyes still glassy with emotion. “Thanks, Jenny,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. Jenny smiled and brushed a hand through his hair. “You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ll be right here if you need me.” As Reilly’s eyes fluttered closed, Jenny stayed by his side for a moment, watching as his breathing evened out and the tension slowly melted from his body. She knew today had been hard for him, but she was also proud of the way he had handled it. He was brave, even when he didn’t feel like it, and she knew that with time, things would get easier for him. After a few minutes, Jenny stood up quietly, leaving the room with the door slightly ajar. As she stepped into the hallway, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of responsibility and care for Reilly. She knew that their relationship would continue to grow, and that as his caregiver and friend, she would always be there to support him—no matter how difficult the road ahead might be. Jenny stepped softly into the hallway, letting out a small breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Today had been a big moment for both her and Reilly—a moment that, despite its awkwardness and tension, had strengthened the bond they shared. She knew how hard it had been for him, and she was determined to make each step forward as gentle and comforting as possible. Leaning against the doorframe, Jenny allowed herself a moment of reflection. This wasn’t just about caregiving. It was about building trust, helping Reilly feel secure in his vulnerabilities, and making sure he knew he wasn’t facing any of this alone. She could still feel the warmth of his small, tentative embrace when she had reassured him that everything was okay. That trust was precious, and Jenny vowed to always handle it with care. As she stood in the quiet hallway, Jenny’s mind returned to the look on Reilly’s face when she had coaxed him into his first change with her. There had been fear there, but also a longing for reassurance—something she had tried to provide through her touch and her words. She had noticed how, even as nervous as he was, Reilly had calmed slightly as she moved slowly and carefully, her hands steady but unhurried. She knew it would take time. For Reilly, this was all new, overwhelming, and undoubtedly scary. But every little step—every quiet moment of reassurance, every gentle touch—was bringing him closer to accepting the care he needed without shame. And that, Jenny reminded herself, was what she was here for: to help him through this journey, to make sure he never felt like a burden or that his needs were something to be embarrassed about. Jenny peeked back into Reilly’s room, watching his sleeping form for a few moments. His body was curled up under the blanket, his breathing slow and even now. His face, which had been flushed with nerves and embarrassment earlier, looked peaceful in sleep. She smiled to herself, glad to see him finally resting after such a difficult day. Slipping back into the room quietly, Jenny approached the bed, her movements careful not to disturb him. She sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a few stray hairs off his forehead. For a moment, she just watched him sleep, feeling a wave of affection and protectiveness wash over her. “You’re doing great, Reilly,” she whispered softly, even though he couldn’t hear her. “I know it’s hard, but you’re brave. And I’m proud of you.” As she stood up to leave, she thought of the many days that lay ahead—days that would be filled with similar challenges, but also, hopefully, moments of peace and progress. Reilly’s journey was far from over, but Jenny knew they would face it together. And with every step, she would remind him that he didn’t have to carry the weight of his fears and insecurities alone. She was here, by his side, and she always would be. After one last glance at him, Jenny quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar, just in case he needed her. The house felt calm and quiet, and for the first time since Miriam had left that morning, Jenny felt a sense of deep contentment. She knew Reilly would wake up feeling more at ease, knowing he had someone in his corner who cared for him and would never judge him. And for Jenny, that was enough. As the afternoon light streamed through the windows and the house settled into a quiet lull, Jenny sat in the living room, allowing herself a small smile. She was proud of Reilly. Proud of his courage, proud of the trust he had begun to place in her, and most of all, proud that she had been able to help him feel even just a little bit better about himself. In that moment, Jenny knew that this wasn’t just a job—it was something deeper, something more personal. And she was ready to walk this path with Reilly, step by step, day by day, always with kindness and care. For now, she would let him rest, knowing that when he woke up, she would be right there—just like she had promised. ____________ For the next chapter and early releases, subscribe to my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/posts/1509452

Chapter 4: Reilly Meets Jenny Reilly was in his bedroom, nervously fiddling with his game controller, while downstairs, his mom was in the middle of an important conversation. His stomach twisted slightly with nerves – he knew his mom was interviewing babysitters, and the thought of having one at all embarrassed him. The thought of a someone from outside the family caring for him frightened him. “Reilly, can you come downstairs?” Mom’s voice called from the living room. Reilly hesitated for a moment before setting the controller down and slowly heading down the stairs. His mind raced with thoughts as he descended. When he stepped into the living room, he saw his mom seated on the couch, but next to her was someone he didn’t recognize – a young woman, maybe a few years older than him. She looked friendly, with light blonde hair pulled back in a casual ponytail and a warm smile that made her seem approachable. “Reilly, this is Jenny,” his mom said with a smile. “Like we talked about, before I hire a babysitter for you, you should get a chance to meet them so you can help decide." Reilly shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward. His eyes flicked between his mom and Jenny. "Uh, hi," he mumbled, barely meeting her gaze. Jenny smiled warmly at him, trying to ease his nerves. “Hi, Reilly! It’s really nice to meet you.” Reilly gave a small nod, his eyes still mostly on the floor. “Hi…” he mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. There was a brief silence before Jenny broke the ice again, her smile never wavering. “So, tell me about yourself! What kind of things do you like to do for fun?” Reilly opened his mouth, but all that came out was a quiet, “Uh, I don’t know.” He glanced down at his feet, wishing he could disappear. Meeting new people was always hard, and something about this situation made him feel even more uncomfortable than usual. Sensing his shyness, Jenny kept her tone light and friendly. “Do you like video games?” She knew boys his age were almost universally into gaming. “What’s your favorite game?” Reilly’s eyes brightened just a little at the mention of video games. “Um, I really like playing ‘Super Smash Bros.’ I’m pretty good at it,” he said, his voice gaining a bit more confidence. Jenny nodded enthusiastically. “That’s awesome! I’ve played that a few times – I’m not that great, but maybe you could show me some tips sometime?” Reilly smiled, a small but genuine expression. “Sure. I could teach you.” Mom watched the exchange with a pleased look, grateful that Jenny was already making Reilly feel comfortable. She gently encouraged the conversation to continue, stepping back a bit to give them space. Jenny leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret. “Your mom also told me that you like to read. What kind of books do you like?” Reilly shrugged, a little more relaxed now. “I like adventure books… and sometimes comics. I like it when there’s a lot of action.” Jenny nodded, listening intently. “Adventure books are the best. I love getting lost in a good story. Maybe we can read together sometime?” Reilly’s eyes met hers for the first time, and he nodded again, this time more confidently. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” Jenny smiled, feeling like they were starting to connect. “I’m looking forward to it.” Reilly shifted again, but this time it seemed more from excitement than nervousness. “Okay,” he said, his voice steadier. Jenny noticed his fidgeting and asked, “Do you like to draw? Your mom said you’re pretty creative.” Reilly’s face lit up. “Yeah, I love drawing! I’ve been working on this comic strip about a superhero dog. He saves the world from these giant robots.” Jenny’s eyes widened with interest. “That sounds so cool! I’d love to see it sometime. Maybe you could show me what you’ve done?” “Sure!” Reilly said, enthusiasm creeping into his voice. “It’s in my room. I can show you later.” Reilly thought for a moment, then said, “I also like building things, like with Legos or in Minecraft.” Jenny grinned. “I used to play with Legos all the time. Maybe we can build something together one day.” “Yeah, that’d be cool,” Reilly replied, his initial shyness now almost completely gone. She was happy to see him opening up and starting to feel more at ease. “What sorts of places do you enjoy going?” Reilly thought for a second, unsure where to start. “Well, I like going to the park. And I like drawing too, but I’m not great at it. Sometimes I go on hikes with my dad. I also like going to museums and science centers. I dunno... stuff like that.” Jenny’s face lit up even more. “That’s awesome! I love science museums. It’s so fun to mess around with all the interactive exhibits. Maybe we could go sometime?” Reilly blinked, caught a bit off guard. “Uh, yeah, maybe. I like the one in the city – they’ve got a really cool planetarium.” As the conversation continued, Reilly found himself relaxing more. Jenny’s warmth and playful approach made it easy to talk to her. He found himself asking her questions too, which she cheerfully answered. He learned that she had just finished a degree in psychology and was taking a year off to figure out her next steps. She loved hiking, much like he did, and they even talked about their favorite spots around town. Everything was going smoothly until Mom cleared her throat gently and said, “Reilly, how would you feel about Jenny being your babysitter?” Reilly’s gaze returned to the floor. “Do I really need a babysitter?” he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. “I’m eighteen. I can take care of myself.” Jenny’s smile remained steady. “I understand how you feel, Reilly. It might seem a bit strange, but your mom and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly for you. Sometimes having someone around can be really helpful, especially if you ever need extra support or just someone to hang out with.” Reilly looked unconvinced. “But I don’t really need someone watching over me all the time. I’m fine on my own." Jenny nodded, acknowledging his point. “I get it, Reilly. It’s not about taking away your independence. It’s more about having someone to support you when you need it, kind of like having a backup plan. And sometimes, it can be nice to have a friend around to do things with.” Reilly still seemed reluctant. “But what if I don’t want someone around all the time? I’m used to doing things on my own.” Jenny leaned in a bit, trying to connect with him on a personal level. “Well, think of it this way: I’m not just here to watch you. I’m here to hang out and have fun with you too. We could play games, go to the park, or just chat. It’s not all about being watched; it’s about having someone who cares and wants to make sure you’re happy and comfortable.” Reilly hesitated, his expression softening slightly. “I guess… I do like playing video games and going to the park. And it might be nice to have someone to talk to.” Jenny smiled, sensing a breakthrough. “Exactly! And you know, if you ever need a break from things or just want some company, I’ll be right here. We can do things you enjoy together, and I’m sure we’ll have a great time.” Reilly looked up at her, his brow furrowed. “So, we’d just be... hanging out?” “Exactly,” Jenny said with a bright smile. “And if you need help with anything, I’ll be there to lend a hand. No pressure, no judgment. Just two people doing cool stuff together. Sound better?” Reilly still felt a little hesitant, but he had to admit, Jenny had a way of making it sound less scary. He glanced over at his mom, who was watching him closely but patiently. “What do you think?” Mom asked, her voice soft. Reilly swallowed hard, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He didn’t like the idea of needing help, but maybe Jenny was right. Maybe it didn’t have to feel like she was taking care of him all the time. “I guess...” he started, shifting his feet nervously. “I guess it’s not that bad. I mean... if it’s like hanging out, I think I could do that.” Mom’s expression softened into a smile. “I’m so glad to hear that, Reilly. I really think this will help you feel more comfortable.” Reilly nodded slowly, still not entirely convinced but willing to give it a try. “When does she start?” “How about right now?” Mom suggested with a small chuckle. “No time like the present. That way, you and Jenny can start getting to know each other better while I’m still here, just in case.” Reilly blinked. “Right now?” Jenny smiled, standing up from the couch. “Only if you’re up for it, Reilly. We could start slow, maybe check out your room or something? You can show me your favorite video games, or maybe some of your drawings.” Reilly hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jenny and then back at his mom. “I guess that’d be okay,” he said quietly. “Great!” Jenny clapped her hands together, the excitement in her voice genuine. “I can’t wait to see what you’re into.” Mom watched the two of them with a sense of relief, grateful that things seemed to be going well. Jenny had a gift for making people feel at ease, and she could already tell that Reilly was opening up to her. “Since we’re starting right now,” Jenny suggested cheerfully, “Can I check how your diaper is doing, just to make sure everything’s okay?” She asked it casually, her tone light and non-judgmental, not wanting to make him feel awkward. It occurred to Reilly that when friends hang out, they don’t check each other’s diapers, but then he was new to daytime diapers. It was vaguely confusing, the idea of babysitter who’s really just a friend but is also there to make sure you’re comfortable and safe and checks diapers. Reilly felt his face heat up again. He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer to her. Jenny kept everything as dignified as possible, her movements gentle and professional. She pulled the waistband of his shorts down just enough to check, making sure not to embarrass him more than necessary. She felt the front of his diaper for wetness and poked a finger into the leg gather between his thighs. She turned him around and gave his butt a sniff, felt the back of his diaper, and pulled out the waistband to peek inside, all while he blushed. “You’re good,” Jenny said with a reassuring smile as she adjusted his shorts back in place. “A little wet, but nothing we need to worry about just yet.” Reilly’s face burned with embarrassment, but Jenny’s lighthearted tone made it a little easier to handle. Jenny gave him a friendly pat on the bottom. “Alright, lead the way. Let’s check out that awesome room of yours.” Reilly nodded, still feeling a little self-conscious but beginning to relax again as he led her toward the stairs. “I have some new games I think you’ll like,” he muttered. “Can’t wait,” Jenny replied cheerfully, following him up the stairs as the two of them began the next chapter of their new, unexpected friendship.

I haven’t written a new chapter of it in a while, actually. I got a little burned out on it I think. I still have ideas for it and think of funny interactions between the two of them, but I just haven’t been in the mood to write something new about them in a bit. I wish it were otherwise.

I've had to move this story to my SubscribeStar. I'll still be posting here after subscribers have had exclusive access for a bit. To get the chapters sooner, sign up at https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges ________ Ch. 3 – Interviewing Jenny Mom sat down with Jenny in the living room, offering her a cup of tea as they began their conversation. “So, what are the most important things I should know about taking care of Reilly?” Jenny asked, her pen poised over the notepad. She was 22, had just graduated college. She hoped to work with young adults with special needs, and she was thinking about a social work degree. In the meantime, she was looking for her first real job, and had experience as a caregiver. She heard about Reilly through a friend of a friend of her mother. Mom smiled reassuringly. “Reilly is a wonderful boy, but he does require some special care. He has a condition that means he needs to wear diapers, and sometimes he can be a bit sensitive about it. It’s important to be patient and understanding.” Jenny nodded, scribbling notes. “And how often should I check his diaper? Should I wait for him to tell me, or do I need to be proactive?” “Be proactive,” Mom advised. “Reilly doesn’t always know when he’s wet or poopy, and when he does, he might not always admit when he needs a change, especially if he’s feeling embarrassed or distracted. It’s usually best to check him every couple of hours. If you notice he’s getting fidgety or irritable, that might be a sign too.” Jenny looked thoughtful. “And if he does get upset or embarrassed, how should I handle it?” Mom takes a sip of her tea, then responded, “Just be calm and gentle. Reilly responds well to kindness. If he’s upset, it helps to remind him that there’s nothing to be ashamed of and that you’re there to take care of him. Sometimes, a little distraction or a change of subject can help too.” Jenny jotted down more notes, then hesitated before asking, “What about discipline? You mentioned he sometimes acts out. How do you usually approach that?” Mom nodded, understanding the delicate nature of the question. “Yes, if Reilly is misbehaving or not cooperating, we do sometimes have to discipline him. That corner,” Mom said as she nodded toward it, “is the timeout corner. We take away toys or screens or privileges if need be. Even better is if we avoid it entirely. Sometimes all it takes is a little break; if you can take him to a quiet room and give him a few minutes to calm down, he’s usually good to go.” “So a conversation or a lecture, do those work?” “Absolutely. Just not always. We always start just with being very calm and clear in giving him directions and a chance to back out of whatever misbehavior he’s gotten himself into. It’s when words don’t work that we have to go escalate the consequences. What we don’t do is ever yell or raise our voice to him.” Mom paused. Several candidates have told her they aren’t comfortable with what she was going to say next. “Reilly sometimes gets too worked up for those consequences, though. Just a few months ago, we introduced spanking to Reilly’s routine, and it surprised us all, but it does work.” “Wow,” Jenny replieed. “That’s a lot. He’s 18.” “Almost 19, but you have to understand we use spanking very sparingly. We save it for disrespect, deliberate disobeying, dishonesty, backtalk, and tantrum. We know when he tantrums he’s not doing it on purpose, but it’s the only thing that can put an end to those episodes when all else fails. When he gets himself in a true tizzy like that, it can intense. Like, a 5-foot-8 toddler throwing himself on the floor kicking and screaming and sometimes even throwing things. We don’t want him to hurt himself or anyone else, so a stinging bottom is well worth it.” “How do you spank,” Jenny asked. “Proportional to the misbehavior. If it’s to stop a tantrum, most of the time all he needs are a couple warning spanks to get his attention. When that doesn’t work, or for misbehavior, We put him over our knee. We always take his pants down but usually leave his diaper up.” “And that gets through to him?” “Yes, even just with our hands through his padding it works most of the time. When we do need to take his diaper down, it’s only for his worst behavior.” Mom paused before adding, “We use the diaper position too if he already happens to be on his back. We try to give him his consequence as soon as possible afterwards so the connection between the behavior and consequence is clear in his mind.” “What else should I know about discipline with Reilly?” “It’s important to be firm but fair. I usually give him a warning first, and if he doesn’t listen, then I follow through. Afterward, I always talk to him about why he was punished and what to do differently next time, and I make sure he knows that it’s done out of care for him, not anger.” “And what kind of misbehaviors are we talking about?” “Arguing about stuff after you’ve let him had his say but he still won’t stop; that’s probably the biggest issue whether it’s screen time, nap time, bath time, bedtime, or change time. He’ll have a dirty diaper, you’ll tell him to come with you, and he’ll look you square in the eye and deny he needs a change. Sometimes it’s because he doesn’t want to stop whatever he’s doing. Sometimes it’s because he’s embarrassed and somehow thinks if he just denies needing a change everyone in sniffing distance will think he didn’t do what he did in his diaper. Or not getting his way; that’s another trigger, of course. Not liking what he’s wearing, or what he’s served, or the choices we give him. But don’t get me wrong; he’s a very sweet boy. He’s always very apologetic afterwards. It’s like he’s really forgetting himself; he doesn’t want to behave like that and knows we’re doing what he needs us to do to help him.” Jenny continued to take notes, wanting to ensure she was fully prepared if she got the job. “Got it. I’ll make sure to be consistent and clear with him. How is he after he gets a consequence, other than apologetic, I mean? What’s his mood like?” Mom smiled. Searching for a caregiver for Reilly had been difficult, and that Jenny was taking notes and asking so many questions told her Jenny was attentive, caring, and trustworthy. “He recovers quickly. He can be a bit subdued if he’s mad at himself, but if you remind him you’re not mad and tell him you’re proud of him for taking his consequence so well, that starts to snap him out of it pretty quick. We always emphasize to him once his consequence is over, it’s over, and everything’s forgiven. I’d say he’s back to his normal self in less than 10 minutes.” “Even after a spanking? I’d think a boy his age would want to be alone for a while and might get kinda pouty.” “No, it’s the same – 10 minutes, usually less, and he’s back to normal.” Mom had been very careful to not draw any parallels between Reilly’s behavior and that of a toddler. While she didn’t say it out loud, in her mind she was thinking how much like a toddler Reilly’s response to consequences could be. He would be upset only for as long as it took for something else to occupy his mind. Jenny took another note. “Understood. Is there anything else I should keep in mind when it comes to his routine or things that might upset him?” Mom thought for a moment, then added, “Reilly’s routine is really important to him. He thrives on structure, so try to keep things as consistent as possible. It’s the same rules and consequences no matter where we are, who we’re with, or who is watching him.” “His siblings watch him sometimes, don’t they?” “Mhmm. Matt not as much, but Julie quite often. More than she can handle, in fact. She lives at home, but she’s in college and works. She’s been a big help and always will be, but we really need someone who can watch Reilly fulltime during the day.” Jenny thought about how awkward that arrangement must be for Reilly and his siblings. “What are other parts of his routine?” “We keep meal times at roughly the same time. He has a midafternoon nap usually around 1:00, but times are flexible. We don’t want his routine to dominate his life to the point where we can’t be away from the house. You know, like we can’t take him somewhere because we won’t be home for his nap at exactly 1:00.” “Do you take him out much,” Jenny asked. She thought about his needs and that the world wasn’t really set up for adults in diapers and their caregivers. “We leave the house every day, even if it’s just for a walk. Being reclusive certainly won’t help him recover. He can be self-conscious around others; he’s easily embarrassed. That’s a good thing, though; not that his pride gets hurt but that he still has some pride. If he were so regressed that he didn’t think anything of people knowing he’s in diapers – though we’re always very careful with his privacy, we can never be perfect – like the way a toddler isn’t bothered by it, that would be a much bigger cause for concern. If you’re wondering about checks and changes away from home, we check him discreetly, and he’s usually pretty good about it. For changes, we use family restrooms or single-person restrooms when we can. The car works, too. Most of the time, though, his diaper can wait until we get home. If it might leak or he’s uncomfortable or if he’s messy, we’ll change him away from home. He doesn’t like it, but he can’t sit in a dirty diaper. If there’s absolutely no where private to change him, we just use the regular restroom; you’d be surprised how tolerant people are of it. They see an 18-year-old in the ladies’ room with his mom or sister and they guess what’s going on. If we’re away from any restroom, like on a hike, we find the most secluded spot we can.” Jenny thought it was a good thing to not keep him at home, but that sounded like an awful lot. “What about discipline away from home? Did we already cover that? I’m sorry.” “That’s okay, dear. This is a lot to take in. Consistency is key, so we do discipline him away from home if we need to, but our options are more limited, of course. You can’t put him the corner when you’re grocery shopping, obviously. We’ll go the restroom or back outside or the car if he needs a moment to calm down. He has learned that he can throw a fit when he doesn’t want to be somewhere and we’ll take him home, but ever since I gave him a discreet swat on his fanny when he tried that, he doesn’t try it anymore.” “Do you spank away from home?” “Only when it’s absolutely necessary. We take him somewhere private. The only time he’s ever gotten spanked in front of someone outside the immediate family was once, and it was because he wouldn’t go somewhere private. He needed a change badly and wouldn’t budge until I gave him five swats over my knee. I hated every second of it probably almost as much as he did, but … He’s too big to just pick up like a toddler and carry. When he doesn’t want to go with you, there’s nothing much you can do except make him wish he did. It was heartbreaking having to do it, but I didn’t have a choice.” “I understand. What else do I need to know?” “He can get overwhelmed if there’s too much going on around him.” Jenny nodded, understanding how important it was to maintain a calm environment. “That makes sense. I’ll be sure to keep things low-key and follow his routine as closely as possible.” Mom continued, “If Reilly does get overwhelmed, he might need some time to calm down. Sometimes just sitting with him quietly or reading a story helps.” Jenny smiled, finding it endearing how thoughtful Reilly’s parents were about his needs. “I can definitely do that. I’ll make sure he feels comfortable and safe.” “One more thing,” Mom added. “Reilly has a bit of a sweet tooth, but we try to limit his sugar intake, especially before bed. If he’s asking for treats, it’s okay to give him something, but just be mindful of the timing.” “Got it,” Jenny said, jotting down the note. “And if something unexpected comes up, or if I’m unsure about how to handle a situation, is it okay to call you?” Mom smiled warmly. “Absolutely. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything or if you have any questions. We want to make sure you feel supported, too.” Jenny had been speaking and asking questions as though she already had the job. The way Mom said that caught her ear. “Does that mean I have the job?” “Yes. We promised Reilly he’d get a say, but that’s a formality.” Jenny felt honored that Mom trusted her with such an important responsibility. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson. I really appreciate all the guidance. I’m looking forward to spending time with Reilly and helping out in any way I can.” Mom placed a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “We’re so grateful to have you. Reilly is a special boy, and I know you’ll do a wonderful job caring for him. Just remember, the most important thing is to be patient and to show him that he’s loved. Everything else will fall into place.” As they finished their conversation, Jenny felt a sense of responsibility but also excitement. She knew that taking care of Reilly would come with its challenges, but she was determined to be there for him and to make sure he felt safe, cared for, and understood. _______________ To get the chapters sooner, sign up at https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges

Chapter 2: The New Normal The sun was warm on Reilly’s face as the family strolled through the sprawling botanical garden. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and families, couples, and individuals wandered along the flower-lined paths, snapping pictures of vibrant blooms and towering trees. Birds sang, and a light breeze carried the scent of the blossoming garden. Reilly, however, barely noticed any of it. Every step felt heavy, like he was walking through mud. His heart pounded in his chest, and his palms were slick with sweat despite the mild weather. Underneath his shorts, snugly hidden, was the thick padding of a diaper – something he was painfully aware of with every step. “This is normal now,” he reminded himself, echoing what his parents had said when they told him they were all going out and he asked to stay home. But no matter how much he tried to tell himself that, the weight of it – the humiliation, the anxiety – pressed down on him. Julie walked beside him, her eyes glancing at him now and then, picking up on his discomfort. She gave him a warm smile, her arm brushing his as they walked. “You doing okay, Ry?” she asked softly, careful not to let anyone overhear. Reilly nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. He tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, trying to keep it from riding up and revealing anything. He couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring at him, even though he knew that wasn’t true. Mom and Dad were walking just ahead, pointing out different plants and chatting like this was any other family outing, because it was. They had made it clear at the family meeting that Reilly’s new situation – diapers and all – wasn’t going to change how they lived their lives. They weren’t going to hide away just because of it, and neither was he. And while Reilly appreciated that on some level, right now, he wished more than anything that they’d let him stay home. The feeling of the diaper underneath his shorts was constant – soft but thick enough to never let him forget what he was wearing, crinkling slightly when he moved. It was dry for now, but Reilly couldn’t stop the anxious thoughts running through his mind: What if someone heard it? What if they saw? What if… He felt a nudge from Julie. “Hey, stop thinking so hard,” she whispered, giving him a reassuring look. “No one knows. You’re okay.” Reilly forced a smile and nodded. As they walked, Reilly felt the need to use the bathroom. It was slight, so faint that he would normally wait, but he didn’t trust himself anymore. Reilly reached out and gently tugged on his mom’s arm. “Mom…” he whispered, his voice tight with embarrassment. “I need to go to the bathroom.” Mom turned, her expression soft and understanding. She was proud Reilly had the courage to tell her, knowing how it embarrassing it was for someone his age to have to tell his mom he needed a toilet. “Alright, sweetie. Let’s find a restroom. Come on.” She began guiding him toward a small sign that pointed toward the public bathrooms. They hadn’t made it more than a few feet before Reilly froze. It happened so suddenly – there wasn’t any warning, no telltale cramping or uncomfortable shifting. One moment he was walking, and the next, he felt a warm, sticky sensation spreading in the seat of his diaper. His body had betrayed him. His face flushed bright red as he stood there, mortified. He didn’t understand; he had just barely felt the need to go. There was no urgency; he didn’t feel unwell; his stomach wasn’t churning. He simply needed to go, and he did. Mom stopped when he did. She turned back and studied his face. “Reilly…?” she asked, her voice gentle but knowing. “Are you… going in your diaper?” Reilly’s breath hitched, his throat tightening. He shook his head, trying to deny it, but the truth was too obvious. “I… I… ,” he whispered, barely audible. His heart sank, the reality of the dirty diaper hitting him full force. Mom sighed softly, not out of frustration but with sympathy. She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said. “If you’re still going, you might as well finish.” Reilly’s face burned with humiliation. “I’m done,” he muttered, eyes cast down at the ground. The sticky mess clung to his skin, making him feel trapped in his own body. He wanted nothing more than to disappear, to be anywhere but here. Before they could move again, Dad and Julie caught up with them, noticing something was off. Julie’s eyes flicked between Reilly and their mom; her nose twitched, immediately sensing what had happened. “Oh, Ry…” she murmured sympathetically. Dad was more direct. “Do we need to head to the restroom?” he asked, his tone calm and even, like this was just another part of the day. Reilly’s lip trembled. “I want to go home,” he whispered, his voice small and shaky. Mom shook her head gently. “We’re not going home, Reilly,” she said firmly but kindly. “This is normal now, remember? Just like when you were in diapers as a baby… I mean, you’re not a baby, of course, but what I mean is you wear diapers right now, and people who wear diapers get them changes out of the house if that’s where they are when they need a change. You can’t hide at home forever. We’ll change you here, and then we’ll continue with our day.” Reilly’s stomach twisted. He could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. This wasn’t normal, not for him. How could they act like this was okay? How could they expect him to just… continue like nothing had happened? Julie stepped closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Ry, it’s going to be okay,” she said softly, trying to comfort him. “We’ll get you changed, and no one will even know. You’re doing great, really.” Reilly didn’t feel like he was doing great. In fact, he felt the opposite – like he was spiraling. The sticky mess in his diaper was such a strange sensation, alien yet familiar, and the thought of being changed here, in public, was almost too much. He opened his mouth to protest, but just as he did, it happened again. Before he could react, he felt more poop slip out into his diaper, the warm mess spreading further. His breath caught in his throat, and without meaning to, a small sob escaped his lips. He’d thought he was done; he didn’t feel the need to go anymore; and yet he did. He felt as though he didn’t know his own body anymore. The expression on his face as it happened, reacting to the confusion and the warm, mushy sensation, told them all he was filling his diaper again. Julie’s arm tightened around him, her voice soft and soothing. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay, Ry.” But it wasn’t okay. It was anything but okay. Tears streamed down his face as he stood there, feeling utterly helpless. “I… I went again,” he choked out, his voice breaking. The shame was overwhelming, and all he wanted was for this nightmare to end. Mom immediately stepped forward, concern etched on her face. “Oh, Reilly… sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll take care of it, I promise.” She glanced at Dad, then back at Reilly. “We’ll go to the restroom, and we’ll get you cleaned up.” Reilly shook his head. “I just want to go home,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. Mom exchanged a glance with Dad, who gave a small nod. “We’ll get you cleaned up here,” she said gently. She shrugged her shoulders, shifting the backpack she wore. “We brought the diaper bag with us, just in case.” That only made Reilly feel worse. He’d wanted to leave it in the car, but she insisted. His mom had anticipated this, had known something like this could happen. It made him feel even more like a little kid. He buried his face in his hands, trying to hide the tears. Julie leaned in closer, her voice gentle but firm. “Ry, listen to me,” she said softly. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to take care of you, alright? You’re not alone in this. We’re all here to help.” She paused for a moment, then added with a small smile, “And honestly, isn’t it better that you’re in a diaper? Imagine if this had happened and you weren’t.” Reilly sniffled, wiping at his face. He hated that she was right, but he couldn’t deny it. If he hadn’t been wearing a diaper, the situation would’ve been much worse. At least with the diaper, no one else knew what had happened. And though he wanted to go home anyway, he knew without a diaper there’d be no choice but to go home for all of them. Mom and Dad guided him toward the restrooms, Julie staying close by his side. “Come on, sweetie,” Mom said softly. “We’ll take you to the family restroom so we can have some privacy.” The walk felt like an eternity, even though it was only a short distance. Reilly’s steps were slow, the weight of the messy diaper between his legs making him feel every movement. His stomach churned with embarrassment, but he forced himself to keep going. He reached back to feel the damage; to him, his diaper always felt big and conspicuous, even dry and clean. Everyone assured him no one could tell he was wearing one – though they knew anyone specifically looking for an adult diaper under his shorts would see the unusually flat, vaguely square shape of one – but he suspected they were fibbing to make him feel better. He suspected everyone could tell he was wearing a diaper now and what he’d done in it, his slight waddle and what he imagined was a massive bulge, giving it away, and he cringed, expecting any moment for dozens of people to stare and point, even laugh and make fun. When they reached the private restroom, Dad stayed outside the guard the door, purely to reassure Reilly as of course it locked. Inside, the air was cool and sterile, a stark contrast to the warm sun outside and, for that matter, to the damp, stale smell of the normal restrooms. Mom set down the diaper bag on the counter, her movements a little hurried. “Alright, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, her voice calm but with a slight edge of nervousness. This wasn’t like being at home where they had all the supplies laid out and ready, with plenty of space and changes of clothes nearby not just for Reilly but for everyone just in case. Reilly stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do with himself. He hated every second of this – being here, in a public restroom, about to have his diaper changed like a toddler. The mess clung to him, sticky and uncomfortable, and all he wanted was to be clean again. Mom glanced at Julie, who was standing by the door. “Julie, can you help me?” she asked, her voice a little strained. “It’s going to be tricky doing this here.” Julie nodded immediately. “Of course.” A sign above the table said it could support 250 pounds, and Mom felt blessed that at least the first messy diaper change was in a place where the facilities were ready for an adult in need of care. Most places, she knew, did not. They laid out a changing mat on the table, and Mom turned back to Reilly. “Let’s take your shorts down before you get up there, just in case. Don’t want to get anything on them,” she said, though the bag did contain a change of shorts in the event of a diaper leak or blowout. She unbuttoned and pulled his shorts to his ankle and gestured for Reilly to lie down. He hesitated, his face burning with embarrassment. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered, barely able to meet their eyes as she stood there, shorts in a puddle at his feet, wet and messy diaper on display. He wasn’t used to being seen this way; he desperately hoped it would feel normal sooner than later, and he desperately hoped it would all be fixed and over long before repetition could ever make it feel normal. Julie stood beside him, her voice soft. “I know it’s hard, Ry. But we’ve got you. You’re not doing this alone.” She held out her hand give Reilly a boost if he needed it. Reluctantly, Reilly lay down on the mat, his body stiff with discomfort. The moment he did, he could feel the mess squishing against him even more, and he grimaced. He wanted to crawl out of his own skin. Mom knelt beside him and began undoing the tabs of his diaper, her hands moving quickly but carefully. “I know this isn’t easy for you,” she said quietly. “But we’re going to get you cleaned up, and then you’ll feel much better.” As soon as the diaper was opened, the smell hit them all – thick, pungent, and unmistakable. Reilly’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he looked away, unable to stand the humiliation. The tears that had dried up filled his eyes again, and he chocked on one sob, then another. Julie, though, didn’t flinch. She gave Reilly a small smile and started talking, trying to distract him. Mom did the physical work, and Julie did the emotional labor. “So, what’s your favorite plant we’ve seen so far? I liked the roses, but I think the lilies were really pretty too.” Reilly blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “I… I don’t know,” he muttered, though the question had pulled his attention away from the mess, at least a little. Mom worked quickly but carefully, using wipe after wipe to clean away the sticky mess. It wasn’t easy – adult messes aren’t like babies’, bigger, stickier, and smellier, and the cleanup was more involved. She muttered under her breath talking herself through it. Julie kept talking, her voice calm and steady. “I think we should get lunch after this. There’s that café near the entrance. I heard they have really good sandwiches. What do you think, Ry? Want to get a sandwich?” Reilly shrugged, still too embarrassed to fully engage, but he appreciated her efforts. It made the situation feel less horrible, like maybe this wasn’t the worst thing in the world. As Mom finished cleaning him up, she applied rash cream wear his skin was most sensitive and some powder before pulling a fresh diaper from the bag. She fastened it securely, making sure everything was snug and in place. “There,” Mom said with a sigh of relief. “All clean. Feel better?” Reilly nodded, though he still felt the weight of what had just happened pressing down on him. “I guess,” he muttered, sitting up. Julie gave him a gentle pat on the back. “You did great, Ry. This stuff happens, and you handled it like a champ.” She bent down and pulled his shorts up for him, though of course she knew he could do it himself, and buttoned them. She plucked a wipe from the packet before Mom could put it away. “Can I,” she asked, but she didn’t really wait for an answer before wiping the tear streaks from Reilly’s cheeks. She handed it to him. “Blow your nose.” He did. He felt a hundred times better in a clean diaper, though his eyes felt puffy and his head hurt. Had he not been mortified by the cause of the tears, he’d have been mortified for having cried. Mom rolled the heavy, stinky used diaper into a ball and dropped it in the trash, where it made a solid thunk hitting the bottom. Reilly hoped no one would see it, though he realized it didn’t matter. Mom packed up the diaper bag, her hands moving a little faster now that the hard part was over. “Let’s head back out and enjoy the garden,” she said, very much wanting back out in the fresh air. “We’re not going to let this ruin the day.” “Everything good?” Dad asked as they emerged, his voice calm as ever. Mom nodded. “All set. Reilly’s fine.” They found a bench near a patch of colorful flowers and sat down, the sun warming their faces again. Reilly still felt a little raw, the embarrassment lingering, but his family’s calmness helped ease some of the tension. “We’re proud of you, Ry,” Dad said, clapping him gently on the shoulder. “This is tough, but you’re doing really well.” Reilly didn’t say anything, but he appreciated the words. He sat quietly, watching the flowers sway in the breeze, trying to let go of the lingering shame. His mom and sister were right – this was normal now, and it was better to be in a diaper than to have an accident in his pants. Slowly, he started to calm down. After a few minutes, Julie nudged him. “So, about that lunch… Sandwiches? Or do you want to try the burgers?” Reilly smiled faintly, the tension easing just a little more. “Burgers sound good,” he said softly. The family sat together for a while longer, letting the peace of the garden settle around them. And for the first time in a long time, Reilly felt like maybe – just maybe – things were going to be okay.

I've started a new story series featuring Reilly. The 18-year-old recently graduated high school and is desperate to stop bedwetting before he starts college in the fall. The return to bedtime diapers, however, leads to unexpected and rapid regression in Reilly's potty training and behavior. Good thing his family is so loving and understanding and hires the perfect babysitter to get him through what's hopefully just a phase. You can get early access to new chapters through my SubscribeStar site (https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges). I'll be posting chapters here after they've been up on my site for a while. Enjoy, and remember comments/feedback motivate me to write more! Ch. 1 – Introducing Reilly The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the spacious living room, casting a soft, golden glow over the family seated in a semi-circle. It was a calm, quiet afternoon, but the weight of the conversation about to happen filled the air. In the center of it all sat Reilly, his nerves on full display, his legs bouncing as he sat in a chair slightly separated from the rest of the group. Miriam, Reilly's mom, and Michael, his dad, sat opposite him on the sofa, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. Julie and Matt, Reilly’s older siblings, sat on the couch nearby, exchanging quiet glances. Mom broke the silence, her tone gentle but firm, as she always tried to be with Reilly. “Thanks, everyone, for making some time for a family meeting. You know we don’t have these unless it’s important, and I wanted Julie and Matt to hear this at the same time.” She turned to Reilly, and putting all of her love and concern into her words, say, “Reilly, sweetheart, we’ve noticed you’ve been struggling a lot lately, especially with college just around the corner. We think it’s time we make some changes to help you feel more secure.” Reilly looked down at his hands, anxiety building in his chest. He’d known this conversation was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. He swallowed hard before speaking, his voice quiet. “What kind of changes?” Dad leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but direct. “We want to help you manage your bedwetting, your accidents, and some of the behavior we’ve seen lately. It’s been tough for you, and we think we need a more structured approach.” Reilly’s head snapped up, already defensive. “I’m doing fine,” he insisted, though the doubt in his voice betrayed him. He could already feel where this was going. Mom exchanged a glance with Dad before continuing. “Reilly, three months ago, you came to me, asking for help with your bedwetting. You were worried about starting college in the fall and didn’t want your roommate to find out. You had the idea that being punished might help you stop.” Reilly’s cheeks flushed at the memory of that embarrassing conversation. That he even spoke about his bedwetting to his mom – it was an open secret they never discussed, his parents letting Reilly deal with it on his own – betrayed how desperate he was to dry up before college. He squirmed in his seat, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone. “I just thought maybe if there were consequences… maybe I’d stop,” he muttered. “Ya know, like conditioning. Like, if I associated bedwetting with being punished, it would help me stop.” Mom nodded, her voice full of understanding. “I know, honey. And we agreed to try it. But remember, I said you’d have to switch from pull-ups to proper diapers at night. The pull-ups weren’t enough; they leaked too often.” Dad jumped in. “We started the routine you asked for—diapers at night and a spanking in the morning if you wet the bed. At first, you did well with it. You took the spankings without too much trouble. We asked you every morning if you wanted to keep trying it, and you said yes. Your mom and I, we didn’t quite know what to think, but we love you and you asked us for help, so we kept up the … let’s call it your routine.” Julie, always the compassionate older sister, leaned forward. She knew this part of the story. “But then, Mom found out you were still trying to wear pull-ups, right? You were sneaking them on at night instead of using the diapers.” Reilly’s face turned redder. “I didn’t want to wear the diapers. They’re… babyish,” he admitted, almost whispering the last word. He hated how small the diapers made him feel, even more so than the spankings. Mom sighed softly, her motherly concern evident in every word. “They’re not, Reilly. They’re to help you. And anyway, pull-ups are just diapers that get pulled up instead of taped on, except the pull-ups leaked all over your sheets and the diapers didn’t.” She paused, catching herself before she rehashed that entire debate. “That’s when I started diapering you myself at night, to make sure you had on your diaper like you agreed to. But even then, you were taking them off after I went to bed.” Dad crossed his arms, though his tone remained even. “That’s when we had to make the decision to extend the discipline. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but your mom and I decided because you really wanted this to work, we’d do more to help make it work. It wasn’t just about bedwetting anymore. If you took off your diaper, you were disobeying us. For that, we started giving you a spanking for when your behavior warranted it … And other consequences. We never spanked any of you before, and we thought you had outgrown needing those kinds of consequences, but, well, …”. He shrugged, not bothering to finish his sentence. Matt, usually quiet during these conversations, chimed in. “So that’s when the spankings started being for more than just accidents, right?” “Exactly,” Dad nodded. “It became about following the rules we set to help Reilly. We needed to address not just the bedwetting but the rule breaking, and so long as we were using more childish consequences for breaking that rule, and because it did work – you did stop taking off your diapers – we decided to try it for general discipline issues.” Reilly shifted uncomfortably. He knew all this; his parents never instituted any change in his so-called routine or discipline without explaining it and making sure he understood. He appreciated that, but he still hated the embarrassment of talking about it, compounded by his siblings being in the room, though they knew most of it already. Julie still lived at home, and Matt visited frequently. “I get it, but it still doesn’t feel fair,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t trying to be bad. I just didn’t want to wear the diapers.” “We understand that,” Mom said softly, “which is why we did the other consequence – if you took your diaper off at night, you got an extra hard spanking and had to wear diapers for the entire day.” Mom and Dad had started using new words, or, rather, old words without even realizing it after diapering Reilly became a part of their lives again. Toilets once more became potties in their lexicon. Mom continued, “We meant it to be just a one-time thing. We thought you’d get the message, hate having to use them so much we’d never have to put you in daytime diapers again. Except, you didn’t get the message right away. And then you had a daytime accident in your diaper. And another and another.” Dad added, “And then you stopped taking your diaper off at night, and we stopped diapering you during the day and …” “The accidents didn’t stop,” Julie finished. Turning to Matt, she added, “Not every single time he had to use the bathroom, and not every day, but …” She chose her next word carefully. “Enough that I think we can all agree it’s a problem, let’s say.” Reilly’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “That wasn’t my fault!” he protested. “I don’t know why it happened. I didn’t mean to have accidents.” Mom reached out to place a hand on his knee, her touch soft but firm. “We know, honey. We don’t think it’s your fault.” Reilly was quiet, his mind racing. He hadn’t thought about the time of it all before. “I wasn’t having accidents before the daytime diapers,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “That’s exactly it,” Dad said, his voice thoughtful. “We’re not entirely sure what happened, but it did. And not only that. Reilly,” he said in a tone careful to avoid sending the wrong message, “you must’ve noticed your behavior since all this has become – I’m sorry to say it like this – more childish. Issues we haven’t had since you were little. Not doing your homework, arguing about chores, and just … Stuff we thought we’d never have to deal with again. Getting you to take a shower, eating your vegetables, arguing over so much, even – let’s call them what they are – temper tantrums when you don’t get your way.” Mom jumped in. “We’re not saying these things to be mean Reilly.” Quietly, Reilly said, “I know. I don’t know why I’ve been that way. I … I just can’t help myself sometimes.” Mom continued, “I know, sweetie. It’s not like daddy and I want to be putting our adult son in timeout or taking away toys and privileges, or giving you an early bedtime. Let alone having to spank you when none of that gets through to you.” It had been awkward, an understatement if ever there was one, for Mom and Dad to spank Reilly for the bedwetting like he asked them to. It was mortifying for all of them when they decided the time had come to give a spanking as an actual consequence for actual misbehavior. That in three months it had become almost normal – Reilly was by then getting his bottom swatted to some extent – sometimes a couple warning swats, sometimes a full-blown over-the-knee, bare bottom spanking – that it just wasn’t a big deal anymore. It did stop Reilly’s misbehavior in its tracks most of the time, but he recovered so quickly that thirty minutes after it was over, you’d never suspect he’d gotten his 18-year-old fanny warmed by his mother. Mom added, “And it does help. Daddy and I have seen it, and you said as much, how those kinds of childish punishments, as much as you don’t like them, do calm you down when you lose your composure.” That isn’t quite how he put it, but when they had not one but three family mini-meetings, just the three of them, trying to get to the bottom of all this, Reilly had, furiously blushing, admitted he was doing his best and knew the way he was acting wasn’t right or normal, so while he hated being disciplined those ways, he knew and appreciated that it got him back on track, albeit briefly. Dad said, “We’re trying to find out why all this has happened, but while we do that, it’s important to deal with the reality in front of us. You have the whole summer in front of you, and you’re supposed to start college in the fall. We can’t ignore that there are two problems we have to deal with head on, and they’re related.” Mom looked at Reilly with sympathy. “That’s why we’re talking about this now. It’s not just about punishment or control. It’s about helping you adjust and giving you the structure that seems to help you feel better.” Reilly could feel the walls closing in around him. The mention of more structure put him on alert. His voice wavered as he spoke. “So… what does this mean? What are you going to do?” Mom glanced at Dad before delivering the news. “The first thing is we can’t let these accidents continue without doing something. It’s not about your clothes or the couch; those are just things, Reilly. It’s about you, your health, physical and mental. We know these accidents make you so terribly anxious and upset. We know it’s embarrassing. And they’ve been getting worse.” “No, they haven’t,” Reilly interjected, trying to save face. Mom’s expression softened in sympathy. “I know they have, sweetheart. If know you’ve been hiding more accidents and using your allowance to buy underpants. A few wet accidents I may not have noticed, but so many … and the messy ones.” She could see how mortified Reilly was, and that was the whole point. He was always embarrassed on mentally preparing himself to be embarrassed. He was hyper-focused on not having an accident; when they started asking him and remind him to use the potty, he was way ahead of them, going to the bathroom seemingly every twenty minutes even when he didn’t have to go. Even then, not all accidents were averted. Even if they had been, sitting on the potty almost half the day was hardly a solution to his problem. Mom took a deep breath and made the first announcement that was the point of the family meeting: “Daddy and I decided to put you back in diapers full-time until we get this all figured out, Reilly. We think it’s the best way to manage your accidents and help you feel more comfortable., and get this thing licked before the end of the summer.” Reilly’s reaction was immediate and visceral. “Full-time? Like a baby?” His voice cracked, rising with panic. “Not like a baby, Reilly,” Mom said gently. “Think of it as a precaution, something to help you avoid embarrassment and discomfort. This isn’t a punishment. This is a good thing. No more accidents everyone can see, no more being constantly afraid you’re going to have an accident, no more of that anxiety and stress, no more running to the potty and …” She shook her head. “ … the heartbreak on your face …” Her voice broke. “… when you don’t make it. It doesn’t have to be that way. This will fix all of that until we figure out how to stop these accidents.” “But what will people think?” Reilly’s voice was full of fear and resistance. “What if someone finds out?” Dad’s voice was calm but firm. “We’ll handle it discreetly. The people who need to know will be told with your dignity in mind. They won’t think any less of you.” “But what about everyone else?” Reilly asked, his panic growing. “What if they see? I don’t want people making fun of me!” “We’ll be as careful as we can, Reilly,” Mom reassured him. “But we need to be realistic. Your care requires effort and attention, and while we’ll do our best to keep it private, there might be situations where it’s unavoidable. We’ll be there, all of us, to help you get through it. No one is going to make fun of my Reilly on my watch, but really, hun, people are more mature than you might think. I don’t think that will be an issue.” Tears pricked at Reilly’s eyes, the overwhelming fear of being exposed gnawing at him. He opened his mouth to argue more, but Mom held up a hand gently. “Reilly, I know this is hard. But we’re doing this because we love you and we want what’s best for you.” Julie, sensing her brother’s rising anxiety, leaned forward. “Reilly, no one is going to make fun of you. We’re all here to help. And honestly, diapers are way less embarrassing than a big wet spot on your pants or… you know, something worse.” Reilly’s face crumpled in shame as Julie’s comment reminded him of the messy accident he’d had during her awards ceremony. The ceremony was outdoors, and they sat at the end of the aisle just so Reilly could get to the potty quickly. He’d known he needed the potty, but when Mom noticed his fidgeting and asked him if he need to excuse himself, a silly sense of pride he couldn’t even explain to himself, led him decide to hold it just to prove he could. Mom, Dad, and Matt all saw him fidgeting more and more, and when Mom directly suggested to him he go use the potty, he denied needing to go at all. And then, after it happened, it was the unmistakable scent and not that Reilly, cringing in his seat, had stopped squirming. Yet when Mom asked him point blank if he had an accident, he actually denied it. They were all perplexed – did he really not know what he’d done, or did he think they couldn’t tell, or was he too silly and proud to admit or, did he just not mind sitting in it? After a half-minute of confused looked between Mom, Dad, and Matt, Dad took Reilly by the hand to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up. Reilly never gave a straight answer explaining his behavior. Messy accidents were thankfully much more rare, but they happened more than that one time, which was noteworthy because of Reilly’s behavior and because it was the first such accident in public, so far. Mom’s voice softened even more as she tried to soothe him. “Remember that, Reilly. We’re doing this to prevent those situations. Diapers aren’t babyish—they’re just a way to help you stay comfortable.” Reilly, still overwhelmed, was on the verge of a full-on tantrum. His hands balled into fists, and his breath came in shallow gasps. “I don’t want to wear them all the time!” he yelled, the fear and frustration bubbling to the surface. Dad, seeing where this was headed, spoke in a low, warning tone. “Reilly, calm down. You’re getting too worked up.” “I won’t calm down! I’m 18, and you’re talking about making me wear diapers like a baby!!!” Julie jumped in. “Do we need to take a break to calm down?” Often, she knew, when Reilly was headed toward a tantrum, he just needed a few minutes to collect himself. “I’m not wearing diapers all the time! You can’t make me!” “Reilly,” Mom said sharply to get his attention, “If you keep yelling, you’re getting a spanking.” She knew from the many tantrums in the past three months Reilly was past his point-of-no-return when he couldn’t be reasoned with and only the threat of a spanking could stop a full-blown tantrum. And unlike a toddler’s tantrum, an 18-year-old’s was louder, wilder, and sometimes even dangerous with the throwing, thrashing, and actual sprawled-out-feet-and-hands-pounding-the-floor theatrics. They were worried Reilly would unintentionally hurt himself or someone else. The threat of a spanking was effective in stopping a tantrum past the point of no return perhaps two times in five. When it failed, a few warning swats on the seat of his pants could bring him back around perhaps another two times in five. The fifth time, Reilly needed a spanking, a real one. Once they told Reilly he was getting a spanking, Mom and Dad always followed through, and for all the physicality of his tantrums, and though it was sometimes a test of wills, they always managed to get him over their knees where they could deliver a safe, measured spanking. Sometimes he stopped right away, sometimes he needed to be spanked to tears, but always afterward he was mortified and apologetic. Mom and Dad never had any hard feelings about it; they knew he wanted to be behaving that away even less than he wanted to get spanked. At the mention of a spanking, Reilly froze, his body stilling as the anger began to ebb away. He didn’t want to be spanked, especially not in front of Julie and Matt (again). His voice cracked as he spoke again, this time quieter. “It’s just… I hate it.” “We know, sweetie,” Mom said, her voice full of compassion. “But you need to trust us.” The tantrum, and that the threat of a pink bottom stopped it in its tracks, made a convenient segue for the second part of Mom and Dad’s decision. “Reilly,” Dad said, “There’s more. Your behavior since all this began … I’ve already said that.” He had rehearsed and prepared for this, but forgot it all in the moment. “We’re also going to be stricter with you for a while. The yelling and near-tantrum you just had, that’s not normal for a boy your age. You know that. And as much as you hate getting spanked, we hate having to do it … But none of us can deny it works. It does work on tantrums, and for some of the other issues you’ve been having.” Reilly was panicking again. “So what are you saying? I’m going to get spanked for every little thing!?!” “No,” Mom said. “No. We’ll keep using spanking as a disciplinary tool like we’ve been doing. Only when it’s call for and always proportional to your misbehavior. What Daddy is saying is there are going to be some more rules and structure, and we’re going to enforce that. When you make a bad choice, there will be consequences. Spanking is a last resort. You can avoid it if you listen, and I know you’ll try your best.” That was the central issue: Reilly was trying his best, and his best wasn’t good enough to keep him acting, and having accidents, like a toddler. Not they ever had or ever would punish accidents, but two issues seemed link, like Reilly has regressed somehow. Dad had decided against telling Reilly this part of their thinking, but in the moment, he let it slip. “Little kids thrive on structure. We know you’re not a little kid, but the issues you’ve been having, we think it’s worth a try.” Julie jumped in with more comforting words. “You know, this isn’t forever, Reilly. It’s just for the summer, so we can help you get back on track before college.” Reilly’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “What about when summer’s over?” “We’ll reassess then,” Dad answered. “It might not even last the summer. We’re all hoping we can get this thing figured out fast, and things can all go back to normal. If it takes longer, if it takes the summer, then it takes the summer. None of us want that, and I’m sure there will be some bumps along the way. We’ll need to make adjustments, we’ll figure out how to make it work. But for now, we’re focusing on what’s best for you. Bottom line is we’re all here for you.; this is about supporting your needs and getting you through this.” Reilly stayed quiet, but he knew the sense in what they were saying. It seemed outlandish, but then so did his original idea that a morning spanking would cure his bedwetting. Matt, who hadn’t said much, spoke up. “So, what exactly is this full-time diaper and discipline routine thing going to look like?” Mom explained the logistics. “Diapers full-time, of course. We’ll try to avoid as many accidents as possible, but with the diapers, when an accident happens, we’re not going to treat it like a big deal. That’s what diapers are for; we’ll get you cleaned up and move on with our day.” “You’ll get me cleaned up,” Reilly asked. Mom understood what he was asking. “We think it’s best that we handle the diapering and changes, at least for now.” She paused a moment to remember the rest of the routine. “You’ll have a bedtime and a daily nap. Being well-rested will help avoid some of the misbehavior you’ve been getting into. We’re going to limit your screentime and make sure you’re only watching or playing stuff that doesn’t get you worked up. Eating healthy is important, too, so say the support groups I joined when all this started, so you’re going to have to ask when you want a snack and eat what we feed you.” “The other big thing,” Dad said, “is you’re not going to be left alone while all this is going on. We know you like your independence. A summer job is obviously out of the question, and now with school out, you’re going to have a lot of free time. You’re going to need help with your diapers, and we want you to be safe and supported at all times, so someone will always be with you.” “So I can’t see my friends,” an almost despondent Reilly asked. “Of course you can,” Mom told him. “There just needs to be someone with you. They can keep their distance, and maybe it could even be one of your friends’ parents if you’re hanging out at their house.” “And we’ll need you and Julie to help more,” Dad added, looking at his older children. “You’ll need to keep an eye on Reilly and sometimes be his …” Dad hadn’t found a suitable euphemism, and Reilly was too smart to fall for it anyway. “… his babysitter sometimes. But most importantly, just be there for him.” Julie nodded, understanding her role. “We can do that. Right, Matt?” Matt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got this. We’ll help in every way we can. We’re going to beat this, Reilly.” “And we’re still looking for a babysitter,” Dad continued. “Someone who can help during the day when we’re not around and just when we need an extra set of hands.” “In fact,” Mom added, “we’re looking for someone around your age so it’s not awkward when they’re chaperoning you with your friends.” Reilly, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke again. “Can I have some input on who it is?” “Of course,” Mom assured him. “We’ll make sure it’s someone you’re comfortable with.” There was a lengthy pause. “Reilly,” Julie asked, “how are you feeling right now?” He didn’t answer right away, his expression at first inscrutable. “I just … I want this to … I just want to get past this. If you think this is best … And I know this is … I don’t want to be … a burden.” His voice, and Mom and Julie were immediately at his side comforting him. “I trust you if you say this is going to help … I’ll try my best, I promise.” Tears were flowing, and he turned and pressed his face into Mom’s chest, the soft, safe place he’d nestled his head when he was upset all the way back to his toddler days, but not in years now. Mom cooed and shushed while Julie patted his back and told him everything would be okay and that they all loved him. Dad and Matt echoed it all. They told Reilly how proud they were he was taking responsibility by acquiescing. His parents would’ve made him cooperate if they had to, and they were so glad they didn’t. By the end of their praise and pep talk, Reilly almost felt good about the changes in life, that it was all positive if it actually made a difference. As he had with every family meeting they’d ever had, Dad signaled its end by standing up, stretching his arms, and saying, “I think we all deserve a frosty chocolate milkshake. You wanna help me, Reilly?” “Actually,” Mom interjected, “I’m going to get Reilly into a diaper. We won’t be long.” “Does it have to be now,” Reilly asked, hoping to delay daytime diapers until at least the next day. “No time like the present. Besides, it’s almost your new bedtime after milkshakes.” It was 8:15. And we might as well get you in your bedtime diaper and jammies now.” She’s helping me into my pajamas, Reilly wondered. “Reilly,” Julie said nervously. “Since I’m going to be helping you out and watching you sometimes, I’m going to have to learn, you know, how Mom and Dad do certain things. Is it okay if I come upstairs so I can learn how to diaper you … I mean, put your diaper on?” She wondered to herself how, exactly, the latter phrase was supposed to be less embarrassing for him and couldn’t say. Reilly didn’t want her to see him down there, let alone to diaper him, not then or ever. He looked to Mom, hoping she would say he’d had enough change for one night. Alas for him, she said, “That’s a really good idea, Julie. And thank you for jumping right in. See, Ry? We’re all here for you together.” Holding his hand, Mom led Reilly upstairs, Julie following behind. “Everything’s going to be okay, Ry. We’re not going to let any of this stop you from having fun this summer. In fact, not to toot my own horn, but I have it on good authority I’m kinda the best at making diaper changes fun.” Scared not just about the new routine but about his future, Reilly remembered in the moment a coping mechanism a counselor had taught him, to remember to feel gratitude. He had a great family, and he knew it. Everything was out of love, including all the work they were undertaking for him. They were rooting for him. He reminded himself of that, and even Julia’s silly joke made him smile, just a little. _____________________ Get the next chapter on my SubscribeStar. https://subscribestar.adult/alexbridges

You can read the latest here: reamstories.com/lexibridges The story stopped getting much attention here, so I stopped posting it here regularly.

You’re doing great!

I haven’t started on Volume 3. I’ve been working more on some new series. But as I’m doing that, I’m also revising Volume 2 and will release it on Amazon when it’s done

This is well written and moves at a good pace. Fun scenario you’re building to. Nicely done.