TopsyTurvy

Thomas was a 37-year-old man who had raised his son by himself for more than ten years. Now 18, Dan was an athletic young man who was sometimes a challenge to live with. Dan was energetic, impulsive, and rambunctious. He was also taller and more muscular than his dad. Thomas himself had played football in high school, but he now managed to stay just active enough to maintain his weight. He was a busy man, managing a business he ran from home and trying to keep up with his son. All the stress in his life had caused him to have anxiety, which was taking its toll on him. He sometimes had panic attacks, and, perhaps more embarrassingly, he suffered from incontinence. It had developed in the last couple of years and progressed to the point that Thomas now had to wear guards in his underwear to keep his pants dry. His leaks were unpredictable in both frequency and severity. So far, none of them had been so bad that his guard couldn't absorb it, but he was afraid of his condition worsening and his leaks growing beyond the pads' capacity. Thomas was embarrassed by his incontinence and sometimes worried about people finding out. He always hid them in their package in his bathroom and carried a couple of spares in a backpack whenever he went out just in case he needed to change. The threat of exposure loomed over him constantly, but through careful management, he'd kept his secret. Then one day, Dan came home from playing football with his friends and found Thomas tidying up the living room. Dan walked in just as Thomas was standing up after straightening some things on a low shelf, and, still in a playful mood, the young man grabbed his dad's shoulders and started grappling with him. He loved to wrestle, and the two of them had a long history of wrestling together, although Thomas had avoided it more and more over the last two years. But on this day, Dan caught him off guard and wouldn't be dissuaded. As his son tripped him onto his back, Thomas felt a burst of warmth in his crotch and hoped his already-wet guard could take it. Dan was on top of him, pinning him to the floor, and he was struggling to get loose. They grappled for a minute or so before Thomas finally broke the hold, and as he did, he felt his shorts ride down, exposing the top of his briefs. He immediately reached down to pull them back up, but Dan caught his wrist in an attempt to re-pin him, planting his foot on the leg of Thomas's shorts. The sudden thrust of Dan's lunge pushed Thomas backwards and his shorts down his thighs, fully exposing his underwear. Thomas frantically fought to get free again, feeling more pee trickle out in the process, but Dan had the leverage and pinned him for the count. At the count of ten, Dan jumped up, cheering his victory. As soon as he was free, Thomas reached down to pull his shorts back up, and Dan noticed his dad's hurry. He looked down just as the shorts slid up his dad's thighs and, believing he'd seen something unusual, quickly reached out and yanked them back down. The bulk in Thomas's briefs was unmistakable. "What the fuck?! Is that-- Are you wearing a maxi pad?!" Blushing in embarrassment, Thomas blurted out, "Of course not! It's a male guard." Dan grinned with the realization, and he said, "You mean a pee pad. My dad wears pee pads?!" He laughed at the idea, and Thomas took the opportunity to tug his shorts up again. "No, wait, lemme see," Dan said, tugging them back down. "That's, like, the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen! I can't believe you piss your pants! Hey, is it wet? Did baby go pee-pee in his sissy maxi pad? I bet you did, didn't you?" Thomas only blushed even harder in response, which made Dan laugh even more. Thomas stood up, pulling his shorts on in the process, and Dan yanked them down again, this time along with his briefs, saying, "Come on, let's see that thing." They both looked down, and there was Thomas's guard, soaked and yellowed with pee. "Holy shit, you really did wet it! Damn, Dad, you need to go change it or something!" Thomas, at a loss for words the entire time, finally managed to say "I think I'll go do that." Dan roared with laugher as he tugged his pants back up and walked off. With his secret out, Thomas's worst fear was realized. Dan stopped listening to him and lost all respect for him. Any time Thomas told him to do something, Dan would scoff and say something like, "Oh, does the little sissy think she can still boss me around? You can't even keep your pants dry, little girl!" When Thomas persisted, Dan grabbed his crotch, cupping his guard through his pants to remind him of his weakness. It worked, and Thomas backed down. He'd been shamed into submission, which made him feel even more ashamed. He knew this was a turning point in his relationship with his son. Dan certainly wasted no time. He thought his dad's incontinence was hilarious, a mark of a weak man, and Thomas's solution even more so, a feminine, girly thing to do. He immediately began occasionally asking Thomas, "How's your maxi pad, sissy? Do you need to go change it?" He would blush every time but especially when his guard was wet. Thomas usually waited as long as he could to change it for reasons of convenience and frugality. After all, the whole idea of wearing them was that he didn't have to constantly change his pants. He tried to argue and correct his son that they were male guards, not maxi pads, but Dan refused to listen. Every morning, he would stumble sleepily into the kitchen and smirk, "How's your maxi pad this morning, sissy?" At night, he would say, "Don't forget to change your maxi pad before you go beddy-bye so you don't pee-pee on your sheets!" That was actually not bad advice because Thomas's guard had leaked a few times during the night, something he'd noticed was happening more often lately. Before long, Dan got even more interested in his dad's incontinence. He began to check the package of guards Thomas kept in his bathroom to see how many were in there and keep track of how many he was using throughout the day. When Dan realized that he was consistently going through at least three a day, he said, "Damn, Dad, you really DO have a problem! What, are you pee-peeing in your pants, like, constantly?" Thomas weakly argued that it was none of Dan's business, but his son fired back, "It is when you might wet on the furniture!" The next day, he caught Thomas by surprise, pantsing him in the kitchen and saying, "Let's see what we have here! Hmm, no leaks yet." Dan then tugged on Thomas's waistband and peered down at the guard. "Just a little wet. You can wait a while before you need to change it." Thomas was humiliated at the experience of having his son check his guard like he was a little kid, but he found himself unable to protest. Dan's constant shaming had worn him down, eroding his confidence, and he no longer had the nerve to resist his treatment. Random checks like that one immediately became the norm, Dan announcing "Pants check" or saying "Let me check your maxi pad" when he and Thomas were at home. It became rare that he changed his guard without Dan first telling him to do so. He wasn't sure if it was the stress of being constantly humiliated and having his privacy invaded, but Thomas soon saw his incontinence grow worse. He started wetting more often and more at a time when he did wet, causing him to go through more guards during the day. He also began to leak more overnight. Dan noticed and increased the pants checks and told his dad to "go use the potty" more often. It was interfering with his business as he took more breaks from work to either use the bathroom or change his guard. He started to feel like his whole life revolved around his incontinence. As if things weren't already bad enough, Thomas's guards started to leak into his pants during the day, Dan discovering the first leak during a random pad check in the afternoon. Wet spots started showing up on his pants from time to time, and he would have to change everything: guard, underwear, and pants. It wasn't long after that when the doorbell rang one day. Dan answered it and walked back into the house carrying a rather large cardboard box. Thomas asked what was in it, and Dan said, "Don't worry about it right now." He walked away and was gone for several minutes as Thomas turned his attention back to his work on the computer. He walked back into his dad's office and said, "Okay, sissy, let's get that soggy maxi pad off you." Blushing, Thomas turned around, saying, "Get it off me? Do you mean--" He was going to ask "Do you mean you're going to change it for me?" But he stopped once he'd spun around in his chair. He already knew the answer because there in the doorway was his son holding a large disposable diaper. Dan grinned, "Maxi pads aren't enough anymore, so I'm gonna have to put you back in diapers to keep you dry." Shocked, embarrassed, and scared, Thomas was now to meek to put up any kind of real fight. Instead, he found himself begging, "No, please, please don't! I don't want to wear diapers!" Dan just shook his head, "Too bad 'cause you don't get a say in this. Now, come on in here." Sadly, slowly, Thomas stood from his chair and followed his son out to the living room, where he was made to lie on the carpet while Dan unfolded the pink and purple diaper. "I got you these because I know how you like girlie things, and this way, you can keep being a little sissy," Dan said. He unfastened Thomas's jeans and pulled them down, followed by his briefs. He inspected Thomas's guard, and it was soaked as usual. Dan just smirked and shook his head before lifting his dad's ass off the floor by his legs with little effort and sliding the diaper under him. He then sprinkled on some powder and taped it shut. Tossing Thomas's pants aside, he said, "Okay, now get back to work. You should be more productive now that you won't need bathroom breaks anymore. Daddy will check your diadee in a little while." He swatted his padded ass as he turned to go back to his office, and all Thomas could do was blush furiously. He'd already felt like a little kid, having his pants checked for accidents all the time, and now, he felt like the baby he was being treated as. That feeling only grew several minutes later as he realized he was already wetting his diaper. Thomas effectively became a baby that day, and his son became his daddy. Dan started staying home a lot more so he could check and change his big sissy baby's diapers. He'd been right about Thomas's productivity, though, as his business became much more profitable after that. Unfortunately, his incontinence continued to get worse. His wetting became so frequent that he stopped noticing when it happened. But the worst part was that after he'd been in diapers for a few months, he stopped noticing when he had to poop in time to have Dan take him to the potty. The first time he messed his diaper, he actually cried as he laid on his new changing table and stared up at his son cleaning him up. Dirty diapers soon became a daily reality for him, and the potty became a distant memory. So did his adulthood as he got used to his son calling him Tommy and treating him like an infant. The End ------------------------------------------------------------------ If you enjoyed this, you can find a lot more like it on my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/topsyturvy. I have more than two dozen ABDL stories about role reversals for $4 a month. I also have close to two dozen photo edits with the same theme, which you can see for $5 and read all my stories. Otherwise, thanks for reading!

Thanks, glad you liked it. I will share full stories off my Patreon from time to time, but I'm going to keep most of them behind the pay wall because I'm trying to build that account up, and I hope to eventually be able to support myself with my writing. So, yes, I ask you to join Patreon to be able to read the other stories, but it's only $5 a month. However, I have previews of almost all the stories there on my Deviantart page. There's also another full story posted there. Here's the address: https://www.deviantart.com/topsyturvykink.

Thanks, guys. I posted my story Skidmarks, as well as a link to my Patreon. I hope you like it.

Emily was worried about her dad. Her mom had just left him all alone, so she was moving in with him to help him take care of the house. She wasn't sure exactly how tough it would be, but she expected she'd have to do all the housework because her dad had never done any of that. She wasn't complaining, though. She'd get to live there rent-free without sharing any of the expenses, which was a great deal for a 22-year-old who was currently unemployed. So, she packed up her things and moved them to her dad's house, letting her apartment go. As soon as she got there, she saw that she had her work cut out for her. She'd never realized what a slob her dad was! Her mom had been gone a couple of weeks, and there were messes everywhere: dirty dishes in the sink, dust on the furniture, clutter everywhere, and dirty clothes on the floor. Emily knew he'd need clean clothes for work, so she decided to do the laundry first. She starting sorting the clothes he'd discarded and picked up a pair of his pants, pulling the undwear out. As his boxer-briefs slipped out of his jeans, she caught the unmistakable sight of a skidmark in the seat. "Gross! Doesn't he know how to wipe?" she thought. She tossed the underwear aside and kept going. She quickly found another pair of undies, and these had a shit-stain in them too. She put the pair on top of the other one and kept going. When she found a third pair of boxer-briefs, she checked the seat and, sure enough, found yet another skidmark. "Maybe he really DOESN'T know how to wipe!" She started looking for underwear and found that every single pair, a total of eight, was soiled with streaks of shit. She couldn't believe a grown man could be so careless about his personal hygiene, let alone her own dad! She shook her head and got to work cleaning up after him. He was a slob, but Emily's dad was at least grateful for her help, and she quickly got settled in, making herself at home. They got along well. He didn't try to set any rules for her or butt into her social life. He was just happy to have someone to cook and clean for him. She soon saw, though, that looking after her dad didn't leave her much time for a social life as she had to fix all of his meals as well as keeping the house clean. Emily looked at it as a job, though, and free room and board were worth all the work she was doing. But after a couple weeks, things began to change. He stopped being so appreciative of her work and began to subtly complain about the food she cooked. He never picked up after himself or did any chores around the house. All he did was work and hang around the house, making messes for her to clean up. He rarely ever even went out with friends or had company over. When she asked him if he ever had any company, he glanced around and told her he didn't think the house was suitable for company. That hurt her feelings and let her know just how little he appreciated everything she did for him. After he went to bed, she started a load of laundry and found herself facing his skidmarked underwear again. She even noticed some piss stains in a couple of pairs! "It's like taking care of a little boy," she thought, getting irritated. Things only got worse from there as his complaining continued. He complained about her cooking and cleaning, and he grew impatient with her, expecting her to deliver everything he wanted that very moment. He even started saying that if she couldn't keep up with the housework, he could find someone else to do it, implying that he might throw her out. Then one day, he came in from work walking strangely. "What's wrong? Why are you walking like that?" she asked him. "I trusted the wrong fart in the car," he replied. "You shit your pants?!" she asked in surprise. "Just a little bit. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and finish up. I'll toss my pants out to you so you can wash them." She followed him to the bathroom, where he closed the door and a moment later opened it back just enough to deposit his soiled pants on the floor. Emily picked them up and hesitantly peered inside, finding a baseball-sized lump of poop in his underwear. She fumed, almost shaking with anger, and carried them off, swearing profusely at her father. The next morning, she woke up him earlier than usual, and, still sleepy, he said, "What the fuck are you doing?! It's too early! Get out and let me go back to sleep." She replied sharply, "Don't talk to me like that! You never set an alarm, it takes you forever to get ready, and you're always late! You make the money in this house, so we depend on you keeping your job. So, get up, get ready, and go to work so you can run your company!" She yanked the sheets off him and threw them on the floor. "Bitch! You're getting to be just like your mom! I should throw you out on your ass!" "Well, you're not going to do that. Why do you think Mom left you, Dad? She got tired of you treating her like a slave, making her do all the work around the house, picking up after you, cleaning up after you, washing your nasty underwear, and putting up with your verbal abuse! Nobody else is going to put up with it. So you want to throw me out? Go ahead, and let's see how long you make it all alone like you were before I moved in." He fell silent and glared at her. "That's what I thought. Now, get ready for work," she said. Emily walked out of the room but stayed nearby to make sure he did as he was told. After a few minutes, she heard the shower running and walked back into his bedroom. It wasn't long before he walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He was surprised to see her sitting on his bed, and even more surprised to see a package of adult diapers beside her. "What's this?" he asked. She said, "Well, Dad, since you can't keep your pants clean like a big boy, you can wear diapers like a baby." He scowled and replied, "You're crazy! I'm not wearing no diaper!" Emily smirked, "If you want me to stay here and keep taking care of you, you will. I could go out, get a job, and find a new place to live, and then where would you be? Face it, Dad, you need me a lot more than I need you. You're just like a helpless baby: can't do anything for yourself, can't even wipe your own ass! So, what's baby gonna do when mommy leaves him all alone?" He blushed furiously and hung his head, realizing she was right. Defeated, he said, "Please don't make me wear those. I'll be nice to you. I won't yell or call you names anymore." But Emily just shook her head, "I don't trust you, and you had your chance to be nice, to be a big boy. Instead, you've acted just like an ungrateful, entitled toddler, throwing tantrums all the time, and yesterday you even came home in poopy pants! Not anymore. Get over here and lay down!" Maybe it was the tone of her voice, but all the fight left him in that moment, and he walked over to the bed. He laid down, and Emily unwrapped his towel. She took a diaper out of the package, unfolded it, had him lift his legs, and slid it under him. She then sprinkled a generous amount of powder onto his crotch and taped him up. "Okay, get dressed while I fix your breakfast." Several minutes after he'd left for work, she texted him, "In case you're thinking about taking that diaper off as soon as you get to work, you should know I videoed myself putting it on you. It's now backed up on a Google Drive account. I expect regular pictures of your diaper throughout the day. If I don't get them, I'm going to post that video online so everyone can see what a big baby you are. You're not to remove it, ever, but you may come home for a change whenever you need it. Send the first picture in two hours, and the second two hours after that. If you're not at least wet in four hours, I'll assume you took your diaper off to use the potty, and that's a no-no for you now." He owned his own company, so none of that would be any problem for him. The problem would be accepting his new situation. Two hours later, the first picture came through, and there was her dad with a white disposable diaper exposed under his work pants, which were loose enough to hide the extra bulk. Two hours after that, she got another picture showing dark discoloration on white plastic where he'd wet himself. He texted immediately afterward and said he wanted a change. "Okay, come on home," she replied. When he got there, she looked at him and said, "Now, how do we ask for something we want?" He blushed and said, "Would you please change me?" Emily smiled and said, "Yes, I will. Lay down here." She pointed to the carpet, and he complied, allowing her to pull his pants down, untape his soggy diaper, and wipe him off before powdering and rediapering him. "There you go! Now, what do we say when someone does something for us?" The reply was quiet and meek, "Thank you." She chuckled and said, "That's a good baby! Mommy might teach you some manners yet! Okay, back to work now! I want another picture in two hours." Two hours later, she got her picture, and he was on his way home again, saying he had to poop. By the time he got there, his diaper was full of it, and she laid him down to clean him up. After that, Emily ordered bigger, thicker diapers for her dad, although she no longer called him "dad." She diminutized his first name and took to calling him Davey. She got him bigger, thicker diapers so he could go longer without being changed and larger pants to hide the bulk. After that, he could go without a change until he'd messed or even all day until he got home if he didn't have to poop at work. But whenever he did need to be changed, he was forced to drive home and politely ask, "Will you please change me, Mommy?" She always obliged him. His attitude towards her immediately saw drastic improvement, and it wasn't long at all before she had him trained to accept his new status in the house. On weekends, she kept him toddling about the house with no pants to cover his shame, and he soon learned to use his diaper whenever he needed to go without hesitation. She quickly realized he was enjoying his situation, but this didn't surprise her because now he had even fewer responsibilities. He didn't have to wipe himself at all anymore or even use the toilet. All he had to do was let go and let Mommy clean up the mess. As for her, Emily preferred cleaning up a dirty diaper that she could then throw away than having to wash his dirty underwear, and she still got a rent-free home. Even better, she was now in charge of the home. The End --------------------------------------------- If you like this, there are more on my Patreon with a similar theme of role reversal. I have eight right now with a mixture of kids babying their parents like in this story in all different combinations and genders as well as a twink dominating and babying a muscular hunk, a woman blackmailing and babying her boss, and a man humbling and infantilizing Zeus himself! There are many more to come, so if stories like this turn you on, please support me here: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=21013479.

Hi, guys (just to keep the subject accurate)! I'm a longtime DL who's for some reason never been a member of this site, but I'm fixing that now. I am mostly DL but have an AB side like most DLs, and I'm a gay switch. Switching is important to me because role reversal is a huge turn-on, almost a separate fetish from diapers. I've recently started a Patreon where I'm publishing ABDL role-reversal stories. I'd like to share some of my stories here and hopefully generate some support for my Patreon, but I will respect the rules and wishes of the mods and other members here.