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FrenchKiss

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  1. Here's an update finally. Hope to have more up soon. I'll start to detail the relationship between the two characters more in the next chapter, though I'm sort of enjoying the vague nature of them. In any case, enjoy and feedback is appreciated. It was on the way back from that taco lunch that disaster struck. I’m sure this was all predictable but nonetheless it happened. Lunch had been great. Marina and I discussed life, school, and people; diapers never came up. It was as if she had forgotten, or perhaps it was not a big deal to her she had just changed her law school classmates wet diaper only an hour before? Who am I to say? Anyway, we were headed back home in Marina’s Volkswagen when my stomach started to voice its displeasure with the previous activities; a loud rumble followed by an involuntary fart let me know that things were not going great. “Are you OK?” Marina kind of laughed. “Yeah,” I forced a smile, “I’m great.” “You sure?” She asked. “You don’t look great, and that sound...well, how’s your diaper?” “It’s fine,” i said in a rushed tone. “We’re almost home, it’ll be fine.” “What will be, oh no…” she trailed off as she seemingly realized my predicament. “Oh, wow, um, well we’re almost there, I promise” I looked up to see we were actually only a few blocks from my neighborhood and the sanctity of my home. We were almost there. She then smiled slyly, “But hey, if you don’t make it, well, at least you have a diaper.” I laughed at this. I couldn’t help it. She was right. Even though I am urinary incontinent, pooping myself is not something I do with any regularity or enjoy doing at all. It’s happened, and it’s happened way more times than I’d like, but it’s something that I always prefer to avoid. The smell, the mess, the cleanup...all of it is very off-putting. But on the flip side, it’s better than shitting one’s diaper-less pants, I suppose. We were about to turn the corner to my street and I was incredibly glad because I was on the verge of losing the battle. Deep down, I knew this victory was pyrrhic, and that standing up and having to walk in was probably going to be a hell of an adventure. Marina pulled up to the house and I jumped out without saying anything, determined to make it. I ran to the front door, and began fumbling for my keys, and then the battle was lost. I don’t know if it was the adrenaline or the motion or what, but my sphincter gave out. A loud fart erupted and a huge, runny mess began filling what was a clean diaper. I stood there helplessly, frozen. And then I turned to see Marina standing at the foot of the steps, mouth sort of agape. “Did you…” She asked. “Yeah,” I interrupted dejectedly, “yeah I did.” The embarassment was too much at this point. I had had sex with this girl before and even though it was a momentary fling we became almost besties. And now, here, I was standing in front of her with a diaper full of poop. She hugged me. “It’s OK,” she said, “It’s OK. It was an accident. Shh. We’lll go inside and make it better.” I didn’t say anything, I was still sort of frozen and sobbing. She reached and grabbed the keys from my hands, found the front door key, unlocked and opened it. She then grabbed me by the hand softly and led me inside. “Here, stand next to the couch,” she instructed me, and then she turned and asked, “where do you keep your changing supplies?” “The bedroom.” I replied through sobs. “Ok, I’ll be right back.” She walked off, and after hearing her open a couple drawers, she returned with a blanket, a new diaper and a pack of wipes. “OK, now let’s get you into a new diaper, but with that mess, I think we should do this in your bathroom, is that OK?” I nodded. She set the changing supplies down, and then bent down and unbuttoned my pants, revealing a pamper that was stained with a tinge of brown. I smelled awful. After having me step out of the pants, she led me into the bathroom. “Now, I don’t want this to be any worse than it is, and I know you haven’t sat in that mess yet, so I’m going to take it off here over the toilet and then get you cleaned up.” Before I could nod or anything, she moved me so I was straddling the toilet, and untaped my diaper. The now-heavy back flopped down and the runny mess began pouring out into the toilet bowl. My sobbing turned into cries. “It’s OK, it’s OK,” she told me. “Accidents happen. Now, here, hold still…” Still standing there, she pulled out about 4 wipes and began going to work. It wasn’t until about the 5th wipe that it began to resemble clean, and by the 8th, you couldn’t even tell I had been in a poopy diaper moments before. “All better?” She asked. I smiled for the first time in seemingly an eternity. “Yeah,” I said, “Thank you so much. I owe you anything and everything.” “I’ll hold you to that,” she said through a grin, “I’m sure I’ll think of something at some point. And I’m sure this won’t be the last diaper of yours I’ll end up changing. Besides, seriously it really isn’t that terrible, but hey, we need to get you into a new diaper now. I don’t want to see what happens if there’s aftershocks without one.” I smiled. She led me back out to the living room, and she spread the blanket across the hardwood floor. She instructed me to lay down and I did, and within about a minute I was taped back up into a clean diaper. Honestly, as bizarre as it sounds, the feeling of a clean diaper after being stuck in a mess is one of the nicest in the world. “Now,” she said, “How about we watch some? I think we’ve both had a long day and we can watch something and relax on the couch together, how does The Office sound?” “Yeah that sounds great,” I wasn’t the biggest fan of The Office, but I was tired, and frankly, snuggling with Marina did sound really nice. So I walked over to the couch and sat down, and she sat down next to me and put on a random episode. I had seen it before, I was pretty sure, I cuddled up next to Marina and she held me in an embrace as if I was one of her babysitting charges. My head rested on her plump boobs and she played with my hair. Within a few minutes, I was out to the world.
  2. I'll have an update to this by the end of the week. Things went crazy for a bit. But on the plus side, I have some new material to work with.
  3. If I was him, at age 18, I'd like leave the house and then find a lawyer and sue his stepmother for Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress and False Imprisonment. I don't get why he doesn't leave. The story is deranged, but it's the derangedness that keeps me constantly checking the thread for updates. Amazing work.
  4. Here's the 3rd installment. It's kind of short, but I figured I needed to do some kind of an update. I don't think it's my best work per se, but it's a good transition chapter, I think. If there's still any interest in this story, I'll probably be able to write Chapter 4 today and have it up tonight or tomorrow. Enjoy Chapter 3 As I laid there on the floor in an incredibly vulnerable position, I sort of zoned out and became lost in a train of thoughts. Mostly, I was trying to remember the last time I had been changed by another person. I honestly couldn’t remember at first. It had to have been when I was about 10 or 11, I thought, because the last few years of my teenage bedwetting adventure had involved Goodnites, not diapers. I briefly came out of my thought coma to see Marina unfolding the diaper and grinning. “These are so cute!” She exclaimed, holding the diaper up to examine it. Still smiling widely, she looked over at me, and we locked eyes. “Ok, are you ready?” she asked. “I’m laying on a floor with my shirt hiked up,” I told her. “Yeah, I’m totally ready.” “Well then, let’s do this.” She got on her knees in front of me and spread my legs apart, and untaped each side of the sodden Pamper, whose heavy and soaked front flopped down as soon as the tapes were popped, revealing my nude lower half. I was a bit mortified over this, as the last thing I had expected to happen today when I got up was Marina changing my diaper; if she was embarrassed, she certainly showed no sign. In one fell swoop, she grabbed my ankles, and said “Lift your butt.” I did, and she slid the diaper out from under me, and set me back down. She left it open and off to the side, and then pulled out three or four wipes and began the cleaning process. Then something happened that made me turn beet red and get extremely embarassed; I began to have an erection, which I suppose wasn’t a total shock; after all, when an attractive female starts touching the genital area, these sorts of things tend to happen. I couldn’t look at her though; I knew she was aware of this growing issue. She laughed. “Someone’s excited!” she said in a playful and laughing tone. “Well,” I said, “I’m incontinent, not a eunuch.” She laughed. “I think all boys have this happen when they get their diapers changed. It’s OK. It’s nothing I’ve never seen before.” She continued wiping around the whole diaper area, and the smell of sweat and urine that had been emanating from it when she began was replaced ty the sickeningly sweet smell of the Pampers wipes. As she finished wiping, her phone began to ring. “Hold on, I’ve got to take this,” and wandered off into another room. She was gone about five minutes, and thankfully in that time, the erection had subsided. She re-emerged. “Sorry about that,” she said, sitting back down, and throwing the used wipes in the used diaper an balling it up. “it was my mom. She’s got somewhat of a situation going on with my sister and she wanted to call and bitch about it.” “That’s always fun,” I remarked dryly. “I’d rather be changing a diaper than talking to her,” she said, taking the fresh diaper and setting it beside me. What does that say about it?” “Good point,” I told her. “Yeah, i mean, I love my mom, but fuck she bitches a lot. Shit.” She paused and picked up the balled up diaper to sort of examine it. “God these things hold a ton. I can’t believe this is a toddler diaper…..anyway,” she tossed it to the side, “where were we?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, as it must have clicked. She took my legs by teh ankles and and lifted them again, and slid the new diaper underneath, and then, brought me back down onto it. She pulled up the front, pointing my now flaccid member down, and taped it shut. “There,” she patted the front of it. “How was that?” “Great!” I laughed. “It was nice not to have to do the dirty work for once….thank you so much Marina.” I was pretty shocked about all this, but I figured the least I could do was thank her. “Don’t mention it...I’m sure this isn’t going to be the last time this happens.” I sat up, and she stood up, picking up the used diaper and throwing it in the trash. “So what’s next?” She asked. “What are your plans the rest of the day?” “I was thinking we could go get something to eat,” I told her. “Or at least I was going to go eat something, but given you just did this, I feel like I owe you lunch.” “You don’t owe me anything,” she laughed. “Like I said, I’ve changed a lot of diapers over the yearss, but hey, I’m not going to turn down free food either. How about we go get some tacos and then figure out something from there?” “Sounds good,” I told her, staning up. “Um Chase, one thing though,” She said. “What’s that?” “You might want to put som pants on. I don’t think people would look too highly on a twenty something parading his pampers around outside the house.” “I laughed. “Sounds like a plan.” I found my pants that were on the ground and pulled them up over the fresh diaper. “I’ll drive,” I told her.
  5. Sorry for the delay. So this chapter picks up where the 1st one left off at. The third one (which I will also have up tonight) will explain how these two know each other and background so things won’t be so vague. I just really wanted to write a vague introduction with lots of dialogue. Chapter 4 will pick up where this one leaves off. Sorry for the delays and thank you for your continued patience. Ch 2 “Sit, please,” she motioned for me to sit on the couch next to her. “No need to keep walking the catwalk.” I sat down, she reached over to the coffee table and picked up a joint (it is legal here in California after all), which she lit and inhaled, and passed it to me. I reciprocated. After a brief pause, through her exhale, she asked “So what’s the story? This isn’t some kind of weird fetish is it?”. I laughed and smoke escaped my mouth; I took another drag to account for the spillage. For good measure, I took a second drag off the sweet sinsemilla and passed it back to her. “Nah,” I said, “nothing like that. Yeah no, I know what you’re talking about that’s not me.” “So why then?” She asked. “Come on, I really want to know. Quit being so mysterious. Out with it.” I laughed. “One more drag.” “No...not until you explain why you, a twenty-something law student, is sitting on my couch wearing Pampers.” “Aw, c’mon, one drag. I hate talking about this.” She relented a bit; a sort of peaceful sorrow overcame her face. “Oh, well, ok, but just one.” She grinned and handed it to me. I took one more drag, and true to word, gave it back. “Well,” I said, “it’s actually a couple of things.” I took a drink of the cocktail, which I had almost completely forgotten about, and continued. “I was always a bedwetter growing up. Like from a young age, I had that problem.” Her eyes became kind and sympathetic. “Oh, my sister had that problem. That can be rough.” “Yeah,” I continued. “As a result, I grew really familiar with diapers and Pull-Ups and things like that. But thankfully, by about my 15th birthday, I grew out of it.” “So what does that have to do with this? Are you only 16 or something?” She laughed. “No,” I laughed. “I’m not Doogie Howser.” “He was a doctor,” she said. “Not a Gordon Gekko acolyte.” “Yeah. I guess. We both solve problems, and besides, once this degree is conferred, I’ll be a learned doctor, so I guess that kind of fits. Both of us, we’ll both be doctors…” “Anyway,” I continued, “about three years ago I got jumped outside a bar by a bunch of drunken hillbilly troglodytes and was beaten within an inch of my life, all over some magazine article…” I mused. “Oh my God,” she said. “That’s horrible..” “Yeah,” I said. “I lived but I shouldn’t have. Somehow. Some Mexican woman who witnessed the whole thing threw bottles at my assailants and helped me to the hospital.” I took another drink, “the doctors told me I was lucky I didn’t die. I was concussed really really badly. I couldn’t read print for months. And, also, as I had landed on my back in a traumatic fashion, I suffered nerve damage that rendered me somewhat incontinent. So, given my own familiarity with diapers, it seemed like a logical choice.” “Jesus Christ that’s horrible,” she exclaimed and shook her head. “Here, I thought it was going to be some kind of dare gone horribly awry. That’s terrible. Here, take this, take the rest of it, you deserve it.” She handed me the joint. I feverishly inhaled the smoky goodness. I exhaled deeply. “Yeah, well, it could have been worse. I could be dead. Or like super brain damaged. Or even crippled. If Pampers are the worst thing I walk away with from that, I consider myself a winner.” “Did they catch them?” She asked. “Oh yeah. They did time.” She laughed laughed. “Well, look on the bright side, I’m sure they found out all about sex in uncomfortable places during their stay there.” We both laughed. “Why the Pampers? Why not something, I don’t know, more adult?” She continued. “Well, after all those events, I lost a ton of weight. I was really depressed. I just couldn’t eat. Compounding it all, I was loaded on painkillers for about 2 months after all that just to deal with the headaches, and that killed any sort of appetite too. So one day, I was at the store...I had been buying adult diapers from a medical supply store and Goodnites, you know, those Pull-Ups for teenagers...and I saw they had a Size 7 diaper now. I was pretty shocked, you know? I had no idea they ran that big. I remembered as a teenager I ended up in a Size 6 diaper on more than one occasion and after all the weight loss, my weight and my teenage weight were about the same, so I thought, ‘what the hell?’ You know? .They were definitely cheaper, and I surmised more discreet. So I gave it a whirl. And they worked. So I stuck with it.” She laughed. “That’s hilarious. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’re kinda cute in them.” She smiled at me. “Thanks,” I said, “I think it makes my ass look fit.” We shared another laugh. “Honestly,” I said, “the Pampers saved me, as weird as that sounds. I was really depressed after being relegated to diapers. The bulkiness made me super self-conscious and I’d sometimes just try to chance it without wearing them because of that, often to disastrous results.” She laughed. “Oh my God. That’s why you peed on me during 1L year when you were sleeping over! You were hiding it! Oh my God! I feel terrible you couldn’t open up about it to me then. That must’ve been so embarassing.” “Yeah,” I laughed. “That was it. The control has gotten worse too, so if I wasn’t wearing one now, I’d probably pee on your couch.” She laughed. “Well, I’m glad that’s not the case this time. Honestly, though, I never expected this from you…” She mused, “Don’t take the wrong way,, but as terrible as it is,. It kind of makes you seem more, I don’t know, human. We all have problems. If it makes you feel any better, when I’m hungover and throwing up, I pee in my panties a little each time. I can’t help it. I’m sure that’s not a great reassurance, but it’s something.” “I’m not going to judge you over it,” she said. “It’s our secret. Really. I promise. Pinky promise even.” She stuck her pinky out, and I swore mine with hers. “Look, I’ve known you for two, going on three years now. I’m not going to let the fact that you wear children’s undergarments ruin that. We’ve been through a lot together. And I honestly feel really honored you opened up to me about it all. It’s kind of flattering. Do you want to stay for dinner tonight? I was going to cook one of these food delivery things and they usually have a portion for two...I never eat it all.” “Are you sure?” I asked, “I mean, I don’t want to be a pain in the ass.” “Oh no, absolutely, it’s no problem.” She smiled. “I’ll get that going here in a little bit. Let me roll us another joint.” “And I’ll make us a couple more drinks.” I stood up and began to walk toward her counter where the liquor bottles were. “Um, hey, uh, Chase, um, I don’t know if you know this or not, and I don’t really know how else to say this, but I think you have a wet diaper.” I looked down. It was definitely wet. I began to turn beet red. I’d just wet my diaper in front of one of my very attractive female classmates. “Um, well, are you sure? I don’t think I...” She interjected with a sharp laugh, which was loud as I’d heard her laugh this afternoon. “Oh my god you’re embarassed. I’m so sorry. It’s just that, my nephew wears the same ones. And your strip is blue. That generally means it’s wet, silly.” I grew redder. I felt like I was about 3 years old. “It’s totally fine!” She laughed and stood up, setting the half-rolled joint on the coffee table. She embraced me a hug. “It’s Ok...It’s OK! Really. It’s an accident.” She led me back to the couch. “Here sit down. Don’t worry about the drink right now. Let me finish rolling this and you can relax a little more.” She turned back to her handiwork. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I shit my pants during the Community Clean Up day last year. It was terrible. So, I’ve dealt with worse things. Besides, you’re in a diaper. That’s what it’s for, right?” “Yeah,” I smiled at the visual of some crazy pants shitting escapade involving her. “You’re right”. “Of course I am,” She laughed. “I wish I had had one that night, believe me. Anyway, here you go.” She handed me the rolled joint. “You can have the first hit.” I lit it and took a drag. “Thanks.” “You’re totally welcome.” She smiled. I passed it back to her, and she took a deep drag and then stood up. “Do you have a spare diaper?” She asked. “Yeah, In my backpack. Wipes too.” I laughed. “Why?” I asked bemused. “Do you want to wear one?” She laughed. “No, I’ll pass on that. I was thinking you could use a change before dinner though.” “Yeah,” I said. “I definitely should go do something about that.” I looked down; it looked even more swollen. “Do you want some help?” She asked. “I’m really good at changing diapers. I’m from a Catholic family. I’ve changed a ton of diapers. It really doesn’t bother me.” “If you’re seriously offering,” I said, “I’m not going to turn it down.” “Alright,” she laughed, “let’s finish this, you get your stuff, and I’ll get you all fixed up.” “Yeah, yeah, of course, let’s do that.” I still thought she was joking. “I’m serious. I feel bad for you. The least I can do is help you out a little with a measly diaper change.” “Alright,” I said, taking a drag, “let’s do this.” “Alright,” she smiled, biting her lower lip with her grin. “One sec.” She got up and went to her bedroom and came back with a small blanket she spread on the hardwood floors. “Where’s your stuff?” I motioned to my backpack. She unzipped it and pulled out the two spares I had and the pack of wipes, and casually tossed them onto the spread out blanket. Her grin was wide and devilish. “Alright diaper butt, lay down on the floor. Let’s look at the damage.” I climbed onto the floor and laid back, pulling my t-shirt up to my chest. Was this real life?
  6. Glad you like it. I'll try to have another chapter up tonight or tomorrow night.
  7. I was a bedwetter as a teenager, but that ended when I was about 16. I then got injured in a rollover and sustained nerve damage about 4 years ago, and I've been back in diapers full time ever since.
  8. So, this is something I've been working on. The opening chapter is intentionally vague, and the full details will start to come into focus in the following couple chapters (which will be added with some regularity). The whole story is based off of true events; kind of a Roman à clef, if you will. So, here it goes. Hope you all enjoy it. ***************** Chapter 1 “Wait a minute, wait a minute...you what?” “I wear diapers.” She looked at me with a gaze of puzzled amusement, and began laughing. “No you don’t.” She laughed as she took a sip off her cocktail. “I don’t believe you.” “I’m serious,” I told her, taking a sip off my own cocktail. “I wear diapers.” “Seriously?” Her eyes lit up as she chuckled. “Seriously.” I dead-panned. She leaned back across the loveseat she was sprawled across. “I don’t believe you.” She sat up and eyed me slyly. “Ok, Pampers or Huggies?” “Pampers.” I laughed at how absurd it must have sounded. “Liar.” She laughed. “No, I’m serious,” I smirked. “I mean, look at me, I’m super skinny. The majority of the youth today are overweight, it only makes sense there would be some overlap.” “I guess,” she raised her eyebrows and took another drink. “But I still don’t believe you.” “Well, I’m not bullshitting you, I assur..” She interjected. “Show me.” “Show you what?” I asked. “Your Pampers, or whatever, you said you have to wear them, so you should have one on right now then, right?” “Yeah,” I shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been saying.” “Well,” she smiled mischeviously, “then let’s see it.” “Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously.” She sipped the last drop of the mojito. “Well, alright then,” I stood up, footing a little off owing to the copious amounts of rum that had been consumed that warm afternoon. I loosened my belt, and dropped my Levis. There, clad around my waist, was a Pampers Swaddlers Size 7 that oddly seemed to fit. “Holy shit,” She got wild-eyed, but her tone of voice never changed. “You were serious.” “I told you,” I said, still standing there. She leaned back into the chair. “This is...interesting.” “You have no idea,” I remarked, laughing. “No idea.” I bent down to pull my pants back up. “No,” she sat up, “no, leave them off.” “What?” I asked, “why?” “I just, well, I just never see something like this, and I'm honestly intrigued, and besides,” she laughed, “then I can see if you need a change.” Her laughter continued. I couldn’t tell if she was serious, or not. What a weird day this had been. “Sit down, though, have a drink, you don’t have to pose.” I bent my ass out toward her and looked over my shoulder in some kind of strange attempt at a fashion pose. She laughed. I laughed. I sat down. She stood up, “Hold on, hold on, let me go grab us another couple drinks.” I wasn’t opposed and sort of nodded. I laughed to myself thinking about how absurd the current quandary I found myself in was. A few minutes later, she reappeared with two drinks, and handed me one. “What are you smiling about?” She asked in an amused tone. “This. This whole situation. It’s absurd.” “I’ll say, “ she said. “But I’ve got to know something, how? How did you end up wearing diapers?” “Well,” I told her. “That’s kind of a long story.” “I’ve got time,” she laughed.
  9. Hey all, I'm new here. Signed up to do some writing, honestly, among other things. I was a long time bedwetter who ended up incontinent as a result of injuries sustained in a foreign automobile accident. So diapers and myself go back a long ways. Happy to be a part of your community.
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