JourneymanBedwetter

Thank you for the kind words and to anyone who took the time to read the first chapter. Here's chapter 2. There will (hopefully, as long as I write it) be a Chapter 3 that will likely be a bit longer, but that's all I have planned for this story. Chapter 2 While Dylan still couldn’t really see through the liquid pooled up in his eyes, he could feel that Curtis was leading him directly to their bedroom. By this time, the urine of Dylan’s accident had cooled considerably, and the clothes covering the lower half of his body clung wetly to his skin. Any of the initial good feelings of relief and pleasure from his accident were long gone. All that remained were his immense feelings of guilt, shame, and now the growing discomfort of his wet clothes. At this point, Dylan just wanted to get changed out of these disgusting clothes, take a shower, and pretend like none of this ever happened. At last, Dylan felt Curtis stop and let go of his hand. “Alright, kiddo. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Dylan remained motionless, head bowed staring at the floor, his breath ever-so-slightly raspy as he quietly sobbed. Kiddo. At this moment, he felt like the moniker never felt more apt. He was supposed to be an adult, yet here he was, standing in the middle of his bedroom with his infantile display of potty-training inadequacy on full display. Dylan’s inability to control his emotions, tears periodically rolling down his face, only added to the childish image, both outwardly and within Dylan’s own mind. Curtis finally returned and laid out a babyish changing mat they had used previously for roleplay sessions. “Step on over here and let’s get you out of those things.” Dylan felt a slight tug on his arm as Curtis cautiously led him to step on top of the mat. “First things first. Arms Up.” Softly commanded Curtis. Dylan obediently raised his arms without thought. The combination of knowing that he would soon be out his uncomfortable attire and the soothing tone of his boyfriend’s voice calmed Dylan somewhat, at least enough for the tears to fully stop. Dylan could feel Curtis’s hands grab ahold of the sleeves of his polo and start pulling the garment up and off. It was a strange feeling having the cold wetness of his shirt get dragged up his body and across his face, knowing that the liquid was a result of his accident. As the wetness passed over Dylan’s nose, the unmistakable scent of urine gave no deniability to the source. With his polo fully removed, revealing the clean-shaven torso of Dylan, Curtis continued “Can you take off your shoes by yourself? Or do you need my help?” Dylan nodded. He was wearing loafers that could easily be slipped off. Placing his hand on Curtis’s shoulder for balance, Dylan carefully kicked his shoes off to the side. “That’s a good boy. I got it from here.” Dylan looked up towards his boyfriend. His tears had started to dry up, so Dylan could watch as Curtis kneeled in front of him and started undoing his belt. As the buckle clanked open, Curtis moved on to the clasp and zipper of his pants. “You really did do a number on these, kiddo,” Curtis observed with as much compassion in his voice as possible. Dylan’s face blushed. The warmth in his face seemed to seep throughout the rest of his body as he heard his boyfriend’s last comment. At this moment, he truly felt like an actual child, but he also felt a strange sense of comfort as he was being taken cared for. These alien emotions, along with the subtle friction as his pants and underwear we slipped down his legs, combined to cause a reaction in Dylan’s groin. His cock once again began to rise again to half-mast, bringing up a mixture of new confused emotions for the young man. Why am I getting so aroused by all of this? Dylan thought to himself. Of course, Curtis also noticed the stirring of his lover’s privates, but thought it better to not mention it. Instead, he simply continued pulling his boyfriend’s wet pants down, like a teacher pulling down the pants of a schoolchild that couldn’t make it to the potty in time. With his trousers coming to rest at his feet, Dylan now stood basically naked in front of his boyfriend. Curtis once again reached out and softly grabbed Dylan’s arm before speaking in the same gentle tone, “Well, there we are, finally out of all of those icky clothes. But before getting cleaned up in the shower, there’s one more thing….” A look of confusion spread across Dylan’s face as, instead of being led towards the bathroom, Curtis pulled him over to their king-sized bed. Dylan continued to feel the slight pressure on his forearm from Curtis’s grasp as his boyfriend turned around and carefully perched himself on the edge of the bed. Just as Dylan opened his mouth to ask his boyfriend what he was doing, Curtis harshly yanked on Dylan’s arm, causing the smaller man to roughly fall across Curtis’s lap and let out a gasp instead of any words. Curtis leveraged his larger frame to reposition his smaller lover across his muscular thighs. After the short, one-sided tussle, Curtis seemed satisfied with the position his boyfriend now lay, the perfect position to give . . . Dylan’s eyes widened “Wait! Wha – .” SMACK Curtis’s hand came swiftly down, striking against the bare skin of Dylan’s ass. As the second, third, fourth, and fifth strike came, Curtis punctuated each strike with a single word. “I. TOLD. YOU. THAT. YOU. NEEDED. PROTECTION.” The first smack had simply caught Dylan off guard. By the third, Dylan’s tears had come back in full force. By the 10th, he was a blubbering mess. Not only was Curtis larger than his boyfriend, but he was also much stronger, able to easily hold the kicking and squirming Dylan with just his one arm, while the other continued the flurry of barrages to his behind. Due to Curtis’s strength, Dylan couldn’t tell if he was holding back with how hard he was hitting, but it didn’t matter. The spanks hurt Immensely - both physically, and emotionally. Dylan couldn’t remember ever being spanked in such an infantile and humiliating manner, even when he was an actual child. “AH! Pl – Please! S – stop!” Dylan screeched out, barely able to force actual words out of his mouth. He didn’t even get what Curtis was getting at. Protection? Either due to Dylan’s outburst or simply of his own volition, Curtis’s hand halted its onslaught. “I had asked you if you wanted to wear a pull-up just in case, but you insisted that you were a big boy. But BIG. BOYS. DON’T. WET. THEIR. PANTS.” Curtis punctuated each of the last words with yet another slap onto Dylan’s buttocks. “Ah! I – I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Why was he apologizing? He wasn’t the one being hit right now. But he did sincerely feel bad, wetting his pants in his boyfriend’s car, giving a sour end to their great night out. And pull-ups? At least that solved the “protection” question, but why was Curtis bringing this up like they had talked about wearing outside of their play sessions? With his mind focused elsewhere and his body now practically limp after the physical exertion from receiving his boyfriend’s punishment, Dylan gave no resistance as Curtis carefully pulled him off his lap. Tears ran in streams down Dylan’s face, but he was too lost in thought to care what he looked like, or what his body was really doing. Dylan felt himself being slightly lifted and repositioned, so that he was now sitting, legs-splayed apart, on his boyfriend’s thighs. Dylan caught a quick glimpse of Curtis’s face before he was pulled-into a tight hug. “Shh….Shh….It’s alright, kiddo. And I’m sorry that I had to spank you. But sometimes, little ones need to be reminded who knows best.” As Curtis spoke, he simultaneously caressed Dylan’s recently reddened behind, radiating sensations of pain and warmth from Dylan’s buttocks. In fact, Dylan’s entire body felt like it was radiating heat. Heat from his behind from the spanking. Heat from his face from his sobbing and the continuing humiliation and guilt from his current predicament. Heat from . . . arousal? At this moment, Dylan realized that his semi-hard cock was currently softly pressing into his boyfriend’s stomach. It seemed that the spanking in no way deterred Dylan’s little trooper. In fact, Dylan made the slightly uncomfortable realization that he might be even more aroused now. It was all so much for Dylan, who’s face was still buried in his boyfriend’s chest. The exterior heat of his body seemed to be mirrored by an interior warmth. A strange mixture of humiliation and submissiveness, spurred on by his boyfriend’s choice of words. Kiddo. Little One. Why was Curtis treating him like such a child? And why was Dylan doing so little to stop it? As the warmth spread throughout Dylan’s body, the undeniable truth finally came to the forefront of his mind. Right now, being held close in his lover’s arms, Dylan felt truly cared after, like he would never have to truly worry about anything in his life ever again because Curtis would help him through it. Just like Curtis helped him when he acted like a preschooler fresh off of potty training and made a mess of his cloths. Or, more succinctly, when he acted like a child. “Shh…It’s alright. I got you little one.” Perhaps it was coming to terms with this realization, or perhaps it was the soft, rhythmic bouncing of Curtis’s legs along with his soft, encouraging words, but Dylan soon found his stream of tears slow to a trickle and eventually stop. Dylan stayed in Curtis’s embrace for what felt like an hour, before sheepishly peering up into his boyfriends gaze, unsure what would meet him. What looked back was Curtis’s soft visage, a warm smile spreading across his mouth. “So, you doing alright, kiddo?” Dylan sniffed and rubbed the last tears out of his eyes before responding. “Y – yeah…..I think so. S – sorry again.” “Aww, it’s OK. I’m not mad. You just needed to be reminded that, sometimes, you need to listen to me. That I know best. Now, can you show me that you are still a big boy and take a shower by yourself? I have to clean out the car still.” The reminder of ground-zero of his accident sparked a new round of blushing in Dylan, but he silently nodded in response. With that, Curtis helped Dylan slide off the larger man’s legs onto his own. Dylan wobbled unsteadily for a second before regaining his balance, his legs shaking slightly from the physical exertion of the past 10 minutes. Curtis soon followed suit, and gently guided his little charge towards the bathroom. “Make sure you clean yourself really well. We don’t want you smelling like your accident down there.” With the last two words, Curtis’s head gave a slight nod down, and a small smirk flashed across his lips, causing Dylan’s gaze to also turn downwards. What met his gaze was his cock, still partially erect, a physical reminder that, at some level, he was enjoying this. The sound of the bathroom door closing caused Dylan to break his gaze and look up as he realized that, for the first time in what felt like forever, he was alone.

Hey everyone! I would like to say this is my first time trying to write, but that's not true. I have started a couple stories that ended up fizzling out just after starting them. This time, I'm taking on a smaller scope for my story, so hopefully I can actually see this one through. My plan is for the entirety of this story to only be 3 or 4 chapters, and I basically have the general outline for how everything will go, so this shouldn't be too difficult to complete. Anyway, this story has most of it's plot beats based on a real life occurrence with my partner. Obviously both characters are above the age of 18. Please share any comments/critique you have and thanks for reading! Date Night to Diapers “Why did I have to show-off and get the spiciest curry?” Dylan wondered to himself as he squirmed in the passenger seat of his boyfriend’s sedan. The Indian restaurant they had just dined at was famous for serving a particular lamb dish that was tear-inducingly spicy. Wanting to show off to Curtis, his boyfriend, Dylan ordered this specialty dish without a second thought. He generally enjoyed spicy food, and the meal was definitely delicious, but the spiciness was unlike anything Dylan had ever experienced. Through the half-hour it took them to eat their meal, Dylan must have drunk about a half-gallon of water. Add on to it the almost full pint of beer that he chugged at the end of the meal (not going to let $5 go to waste), and Dylan was currently in dire straits. “What’s up kiddo?” Curtis asks from beside Dylan as the car pulls off the highway. Kiddo. Dylan never knew how to feel about his boyfriend’s choice in nickname. It is true that Dylan, standing at 5’7”, was dwarfed by his boyfriend, a giant at 6’4”. And sure, they had done some ageplay stuff over the past few months, but the term made sense during the roleplay. Curtis used the term to refer to Dylan all the time though, and Dylan wasn’t a kid in his day-to-day life. He was an adult. Dylan had never even heard of ageplay or ABDL before he met Curtis. It was adorable the first time Curtis brought up his interest in the fetish a couple of months prior. He was so nervous and blushing so hard that it was one of the only times Dylan ever felt like the more manly person in the relationship. Dylan agreed to try it out after this initial conversation. He could tell that it was very important to Curtis, and also didn’t see it as being too gross or out there. Thus, over the past few months, Dylan had found himself wearing GoodNites a half dozen times, and even a full-blown ABDL diaper twice per his boyfriend’s request. Most of the time, Dylan simply wore the garment as an element of their foreplay. The last couple times, though, Curtis had convinced Dylan to wet his padded underwear. As he had come out to find he didn’t mind wearing them, Dylan though that wetting them might turn out similarly. Dylan kind of hated to admit it, but he definitely didn’t mind wetting them either. He thought that having his own excrement in contact with his body would be disgusting, but the protective underwear always did a good job of absorbing his urine, leaving a warm, damp, and squishy cocoon around his groin. Now shifting in his seat, foot tapping so fast that it would put Neil Peart to shame, Dylan blushed as he recalled these most previous roleplaying sessions. During those times, he had actually found it surprisingly difficult to wet his diapers, even when he had to go. At this point, Dylan was pretty sure that any slip in his concentration would result in a genuine accident, not one forged in roleplay. “Nothing,” Dylan blurted out meekly. He tried to hold himself still, so that Curt wouldn’t think something was up. He was fairly successful, though his foot kept tip-tapping away. The restaurant was all of 30 minutes from the couple’s house – 25 minutes on the highway, 5 minutes the rest of the way home. Dylan knew this, and as they had just turned off the highway, he knew that he had to make it just 5 minutes until they were home. Just 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes of sitting with a bursting bladder. A bladder that seemed to be continuously filling and putting more and more pressure on his muscles. A bladder that seemed to have a pain growing deep inside it. A bladder that – “Can you drive a bit faster?” Curtis glanced sideways at Dylan, giving him a look of suspicion before returning his gaze to the road and pressing his foot slightly harder into the accelerator. “Sure thing, kiddo.” This time the childish term of endearment didn’t even register with Dylan. The entirety of the outside world might as well not have mattered to Dylan at this point. His entire life at this moment was wholly dedicated to his internal struggle of not having a genuine accident. Dylan didn’t even realize it, but his hands had made their way down to his groin and were pushing down – anything to help in this desperate time. Eyes intensely shut, Dylan put all his effort into clamping down on his bladder. At this point, one wrong move would spell disaster. As his concentration slipped to being 100% on keeping his pants dry, Dylan once again began dancing around in his seat like a raver on ecstasy. This made it explicitly obvious to Curtis what Dylan was going through, if it wasn’t already clear before. Curtis kept throwing quick glances at Dylan. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Was his boyfriend really going to have a genuine accident, something that only happened in his dreams? Maybe not. They were now less than a mile from their home - and salvation for Dylan. Curtis saw the set of train tracks by their home coming up, and like the 100 other times he drove down this road, he put his foot lightly on the breaks to slow down. “No! Don’t slow down!” Dylan practically shouted as his head flipped up and eyes shot open. Partly listening to Dylan’s instruction, but mostly startled by the sudden outburst, Curtis lifted his foot off the brake. The small sedan hurtled towards, and soon over, the set of tracks. Dylan’s outburst had been short sighted. Going over the tracks at such a high speed caused the car to nearly lift off the ground, before it came crashing back down, giving a huge jostle to the inhabitants. That was it for Dylan. The enormous bump had caused his intense concentration to falter. As the stranglehold on his bladder gave way, Dylan’s mouth fell agape and he sharply inhaled. Almost instantly a huge surge of urine shot out of him, splattering against the front of his boxers, followed by a continuous torrent. Unlike the pretend times when he had wet a diaper, his undies stood no chance to stop the flood. Dylan could feel the cotton of his briefs instantly become warm and saturated, with the wetness quickly spreading elsewhere throughout his groin. Not a half-second later, Dylan could feel his accident permeating through his khakis and getting his hands, still pressed firmly into his groin, wet. Dylan couldn’t really process what was happening. The immense relief combined with the intense humiliation of having an accident while not even a foot from his lover brought out emotions Dylan had never experienced. Dylan’s head panned down as he removed his hands from his crotch, now being able to view the ever-growing expanse of his accident with no ability to stop it. While some of his pee managed to soak the front of his pants, most of Dylan’s urine began trickling between his legs. Like a river feeding into a lake, the stream of urine soon soaked through the bottom of Dylan’s khakis and formed a warm pool in the leather seat. At long last, Dylan could feel the stream slow to a dribble and eventually stop. Dylan slowly raised his hands to cover his face, the pleasure from finally releasing his aching bladder being the only thing keeping him from full-on crying. The last two-hundred feet of the drive were emotional mayhem for Dylan as he was flooded with feelings of pleasure, guilt, relief, humiliation, and – most confusing to Dylan – arousal as he could feel his penis growing slightly hard within his urine-soaked pants. The car finally came to a complete stop within the couple’s garage. The sound of the engine stopping snapped Dylan out of his trance and he opened his eyes. “Oh, honey…”, Dylan heard Curtis finally remark on his accident. Of course, Curtis knew of his boyfriend’s accident as it was occurring, but didn’t want to make a comment until he was sure Dylan had completely finished. Whipping his misty, tear-filled eyes towards his boyfriend, Dylan exclaimed “I’m so sorry! I tried to hold it!”, not even realizing how childish he sounded with his outburst. “Let me close the garage door. That way, the neighbors can’t see and this can be just our little secret. You wait right there. I’ll come around and get you. Alright, Kiddo?” Curtis reassured Dylan as he pressed the garage door button once more. Dylan nods slowly at Curtis before returning his gaze downward. The sound of the garage door closing did a good job at masking Dylan’s quiet sobs while Curtis quickly stepped around to the passenger side door. At the sound of his door opening, Dylan tearfully looked up at Curtis. He unconsciously lifted his arms up towards his boyfriend, pleading to be helped. “Look at you…Let’s go get you cleaned up.” Curtis grabs the outstretched arms and helps Dylan up. As they march into the house, Dylan’s mind is once again elsewhere. Kiddo. For some reason, being called that by Curtis in this moment was reassuring, comforting, loving, not demeaning like it usually felt. He had roleplayed as a child for Curtis before, but now he was unintentionally living it out. As he walked, Dylan could feel the excess pee from the childish misdeed slowly trickle down his pantlegs, with some droplets even falling off, leaven a trail of urine from the car to the house. The tears in Dylan’s eyes made it impossible for him to see, and he relied entirely on Curtis as the two walked through the threshold into the house.

I'm glad others are sharing their updates in this thread, as I've certainly been pretty bad at keeping up with my updates lol. I finally made another somewhat lengthy update, and for being less than 4 months in, I'm pretty pleased with how things have been progressing. I don't even have to set an alarm at this point to wake up in the middle of the night. Basically every night now I wake up at least once with the urge to wet. Some of the time, I'm able to go almost instantly. Other times, I have to force myself a bit to get the stream going. Either way, I'm pleased that I've even made it this far. I haven't had any true accident as of yet, but there have definitely been a couple nights where I woke up in the morning with the smallest recollection of waking up to pee, so hopefully soon I'll start to sleep straight through the night and wake up wet.

If you really wanted to see, you could just go to bed a couple nights without wearing, though I suspect you'll be doing laundry the next morning ?. But yeah, congrats on the progress. I am well aware that this is a process that will take months, if not more than a year, so I'm certainly ready for long haul. But yeah, progress....so it's been 3 weeks, and I can kind of say that I've made my first form of progress, even if though it's really quite small; I wake up during the night having to pee, even after having woken up to the alarm on the nights I set it. This is a new development, at least for me. Even a month ago, I would always, always, ALWAYS sleep through the night and wake up in the morning with a full bladder, but now it seems my brain thinks "I can get relief if I wake up", so I'm woken up to pee. As this is the first physical change I've noticed, I'm pretty stoked. I guess it has been nearly a month, so it's not surprising I'm seeing the first results of this training, but it's still nice to have them be realized. Anyway, in addition to this progress, I have decided to implement a "reward" system for both successfully having a nighttime accident (which I probably won't have to worry about for at least a few more months) and also for completing the training tasks (listening to the hypnosis, setting the alarm). I have a post on my blog that goes into this more extensively if you're curious, but I'm not quite satisfied with the daily "reward" I've landed on. Do you guys have any ideas?

Thanks! After one week I definitely feel affirmation in my goal, even if I don't necessarily feel any closer to becoming a bedwetter. Yeah, I only plan on uploading about every week, or for milestones, at least for the beginning. I might end up writing about other ABDL topics later on when the milestones are few and far between, otherwise I could definitely see the blog becoming a dead space.

Hey all. Having wanted to become a bedwetter for the last few years, and after wearing to bed almost every night for the past few months, I've decided to finally take the plunge and try to untrain my self at night. I've actually started a blog about it here if anyone wants to follow along https://journeymanbedwetter.home.blog/ I'll be trying to update the blog fairly regularly for both myself, and anyone who want to see if my regiment works. As you can see, the blog is currently just filled with small guides I wrote up for myself and anyone else who stumbles by. Anyway, tonight is my first night of "real" training, so here's to hoping it goes well. If any of you have any tips or questions, please share.