BatteredOnionRings

Fair enough. It was a deliberate choice and not how I normally write, so a bit of an experiment that may not have worked terribly well.

“Time for bed, Isaac.” “One more episode?” “No, that was one more episode. Now it’s bed. Come on.” Esther stood up and Isaac sulkily followed. “Say goodnight.” “Goodnight Aunt Beth. Goodnight Will.” “Goodnight sweetheart.” “‘Night bud.” “You don’t need to tuck me in.” They had reached the door of the guest room. “I know I don’t need to. I’ll wait here while you put on your PJs.” “Mommy?” “Yeah?” Isaac opened the door, still in his daytime clothes. “They’re not here.” “What aren’t? Your Goodnites?” “Shh!” “Don’t snap at me, Isaac. Did you pack them?” “I thought I did!” Esther sighed. “Okay. Go brush your teeth, I’ll see if Beth has any.” “I don’t really need—” “Isaac…” “I usually don’t—“ Esther cupped his cheek. “You’ve been almost totally dry at home, I know. But you know travel is different, and this isn’t our bed or our sheets.” “But…“ Esther waited for him to come up with something. “This is basically like home. It’s not a hotel.” Esther politely considered this. “That’s true,” she said. “But we haven’t been here since you’ve been dry at home, so we don’t know, do we?” She got on one knee. “I’ll tell you what: we’re here for three nights; if you’re dry every morning, and you behave yourself during the day, we can call it quits on Goodnites here and at home. Okay? But first you have to prove you’re not going to wet this bed.” She stood up. “Go brush your teeth.” When he got back she was sitting on the bed. “Aunt Beth didn’t have any pull-ups.” Isaac cringed. Then he saw the diaper. “Mommy, no!” “Isaac…” “I’m not a baby!” “No one thinks you’re a baby.” “Then why—“ “Because we don’t have anything else for you to wear.” “My PJs?!” “Under your PJs, Isaac.” “But I haven’t… not for weeks!” “Not since we went to the Cape, which was the last time you slept in a strange bed.” “But I won’t this time!” There they were. Tears. Esther sighed. “You’re probably right, Isaac, but we won’t know until the morning. Until then we have to take precautions.” “But I’m not a baby!” “Shhh,” Esther cooed. “Of course you aren’t. But that’s why I let you pack your own bag, and you were the one who forgot to pack your Goodnites.” “I didn’t…” Esther gave him a moment to finish that thought. “You didn’t what? Didn’t forget?” Isaac sniffled. “Is that why you wanted to pack for yourself, so you could ‘forget’ to bring them?” Sniffles. “I really don’t like it when you lie to me.” She felt him tense up. “I know.” “I know you know.” She held up the diaper. “Lie down on your back so I can put this on you.” There was a little shudder, and then the sobs started. “Am I in trouble?” “Yes.” She’d sat with him until the sobs turned back into sniffles, then to hiccups. When it was all out of him he’d laid on his back and let her diaper him. “No phone for the rest of the weekend, and no video games for a month.” “But that’s not—“ She silenced him with a look. “Lying when you’re caught is bad enough. You hatched a scheme, Isaac. You planned this morning ok lying to me tonight. Do you understand how much worse that is?” “I know I just…” His eyes fell to the diaper at his waist and he swallowed back a sob. “You wanted to be a big kid who doesn’t wet the bed anymore.” Isaac shook his head, then nodded, then shook his head, then nodded. “I don’t know what that means, kiddo.” “P-promise you won’t be mad?” “I promise I’ll never be mad at you for telling me the truth.” Isaac sighed, still staring at his lap. “I… I knew Aunt Beth had these. I thought—I thought this was what I wanted.” “Oh.” A long pause. “I see. And then you didn’t anymore?” Isaac shook his head like he was trying to unscrew it from his neck. “And now?” He made a shrug so dramatic Esther could only smile. “Okay then. I guess you’ll have to sleep on it.”

She’s reminding me a bit of this classic exchange from my second-favorite sitcom. Frasier: Hello, this is Dr. Frasier Crane. How did I help you? Chet: "Hello, Dr Crane. This is Chet from Whitby Island. I gave you a call last year. I was having problems with low self-esteem." Frasier: Ah, ah, I see. And did my advice help you to become more assertive? Chet: "Damn straight. Yeah, now people say I'm downright arrogant. Well, you know what I say? Screw 'em!" Frasier: Well, perhaps you took my advice just a bit too far. Chet: "Who the hell are you? Screw you, too!" Frasier: Well, as I give myself a well-deserved pat on the back, and Chet marches off to invade Poland, let's just go to commercial.

I’m continuing to enjoy this story a great deal, although I’m not sure all of the change in Melanie is as positive as she thinks. It does happen sometimes that a teenager overcorrects when they realize they don’t have to be the person they’ve been—but I hope she makes a small correction in the other direction before the story concludes. As she’s currently acting I’m not sure she’d be the best influence on Georgie after all.

Not the most fun story I’ve read on DD, but different, funny, and very nicely written.

I just knew Daffy didn’t know that about swim diapers and there was only one way it could go. Poor, poor little girl.

I knew I’d forgotten a tag! Yeah, it’s gonna be super gay. Glad you enjoyed it nonetheless!

I don’t know if this will be the multi-chapter story I actually follow through on, but it’s my favorite thing I’ve written in a while so I hope you guys like it—if I get a little positive feedback I will try to continue it. “Oh god, don’t stop, don’t…” He could feel it, god he could actually feel it. “Oh fuck,” he panted, and collapsed on Ezra’s chest. “Good boy.” He felt Ezra’s hand in his hair as the sweaty chest he lay on began to feel clammy. “Okay,” he said. “Okay?” “Okay, I’m getting up.” “Just like that?” Tom was already getting wobbly to his feet. “Mmmm... yeah,” he said. He shivered slightly and grabbed the towel that hung on the closet door, wrapping it around himself and padding into the hall. “Mornin’”. He turned to see Steve coming up the stairs. “‘Morning,” Tom answered, blushing slightly as he hurried across the hall to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and slid the latch, still feeling a little hot in the face. He wasn’t sure what he was embarrassed about. Ezra was a brother in the fraternity. Tom was his boyfriend and had as much right to stay the night and shower in the morning as any of the girls Steve hooked up with who did the same. When he got back to the bedroom, Ezra was sitting naked at his computer. As soon as Tom came in—wet and no longer smelling like sex and piss—he got up and wrapped himself in the other towel. “Clothes are on the bed. Wanna go get some bagels and coffee and bring ‘em back here? I got an email from Professor Lambeck that’s gonna take some time to answer.” “Sure,” Tom answered. “Thanks, kiddo. Don’t forget to take my keys. And throw that away.” Ezra pointed at the wet diaper he’d ripped off of Tom in their morning frenzy. “Yessir,” Tom agreed, still glowing under the petname, and Ezra blew him a kiss before shutting the bedroom door. Tom hung up his towel and began to get dressed. Laying his clothes out was a bit pro forma—since Tom didn’t keep any clothes at the house and all Ezra had to do was fold up his pants and take the clean shirt out of his backpack—but it was a nice gesture, and the Goodnite sitting on top had come from a case that now lived in the bottom of Ezra’s closet. When Tom had seen it was a case and not a bag, he’d felt a bit more sure Ezra wasn’t already getting bored of him, and that he really didn’t mind his… quirks. He’d had to come clean about his bed-wetting early on in their relationship, when Ezra had spent the night in his dorm room after their first date. The next morning Tom had decided to share the real secret: that he only wet the bed because he’d started faking it when he was 11 so that his parents would buy him diapers, and after 7 years he couldn’t easily stop even if he wanted to—which he did not. He would never confess the origin of his bedwetting to his parents, but keeping it from Ezra had quickly started to feel like lying. When he got to the bagel place he realized Ezra hadn’t been terribly specific, but as he looked at his phone he saw a text. <Can you get extra for the rest of the guys? I’ll venmo you.> Before he could answer, Ezra had sent him $50 from a shared fraternity account. <Okey doke.> he replied, and began dividing $50 by bagels and toppings. It turned out to divide pretty well, and Tom arrived back at the house laden with plenty of bagels, cream cheese, and lox for the six guys that lived there and himself, as well as a box of hot coffee. Ezra and Steve were both on their laptops at the kitchen table. “Thanks, babe,” Ezra said, getting up and favoring Tom with a kiss on the lips. Tom blushed again, feeling like Steve was watching them. It wasn’t like him to be a prude or to get embarrassed about his sexuality. Something about staying in this house, though, with his boyfriend and five straight frat bros, made him feel… vulnerable, if not exactly unsafe. “You forgot to do something before you left—do you remember what it was?” Tom felt a little more heat in his cheeks. His wet diaper was still on the floor upstairs. “Oh, uh, I think so,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Want me to go do that now, or…” “No, I took care of it, I just wanted to see if you remembered.” He gave Tom’s butt a pat and went back to his computer. Tom felt a little unsettled. Ezra had talked down to him, almost like to a child, in front of Steve. It wasn’t enough to make anyone think “ageplay”, but that was the problem: it didn’t quite feel like play at all. He was quiet as he ate his bagel, but after drinking some coffee and waiting for Ezra to finish up his email he started to feel better. Ezra didn’t seem mad or anything, and he was new to ageplay—he just needed to calibrate his tone a little. “Oookay,” he said finally, closing his laptop with a satisfying clunk. “Come back upstairs, kiddo.” They’d agreed that they enjoyed the petname too much to save it for private, but it did make Tom squirm a little after being talked down to a few minutes earlier. He almost felt like he was about to be punished. That impression intensified when they were back in Ezra’s room. He turned to face Tom and looked serious, almost grave. He sat down on the bed and patted it for Tom to sit beside him. He obeyed. “I’m not mad,” Ezra began. Ezra had said he wanted kids some day. It sounded like he was practicing for their adolescence. “But I do think there should be consequences.” “Uh huh,” Tom said. “Like… a time out?” He was not into the kinds of “consequences” that many ageplayers were, and Ezra knew that. “No, I think we should start with more serious consequences than that.” He stood up and went to his closet. “For my first two years in Delta, I had an ‘older brother’ who was in charge of disciplining me. Not everyone takes that seriously, but he did. And like every pledge, I had to make him one of these to use on me.” Ezra reached into the closet and produced a painted wooden school paddle. “No,” Tom said, and he stood up. “Nope, sorry, not my thing.” Ezra put it down on the bed, far from Tom’s seat, and returned to his own. “You told me that you admired my discipline, my work ethic, right? I don’t know if either is that amazing, but I know you wouldn’t say that if you saw me at your age.” Tom rolled his eyes. Easy enough to see where this speech was going. “So you and your paddle are gonna teach me to be a straight-A student?” That’s what Ezra was, so he could cut the false modesty. “No,” Ezra answered patiently. “We’re just going to help you correct behaviors that you and I mutually agree you could benefit from correcting.” “Like?” “Like forgetting to do something five minutes after you say you’re going to do it.” Yeah, well, whatever. “And oversleeping, and forgetting assignments, and not flossing even though you’re terrified of your teeth falling out when you’re 40...” Tom was starting to feel just a little bit attacked. “Hey, I’m not some basketcase, okay? And I’m not… I don’t need fixing.” The last four words hung in the air for a moment. Ezra looked physically pained. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quietly. “And you know I would never ever try to stop you wetting the bed, right?” “No?” Tom said. His voice sounded weird. “No,” Ezra said. “You made that a part of yourself by force of will and I can’t ever imagine wanting to take it away from you.” It seemed easier to both of them to let the tears out at that point. They were only Tom’s tears, but they ended up mostly on Ezra’s shirt, along with a good deal of snot. “Where are we gonna go so your housemates don’t hear?” It was just the occasional sniffle now. “Don’t hear what?” “The paddle.” “I… you sure?” “No, but I want to give it a try, if you think it will help me.” “Okay.” Ezra rubbed Tom’s back. He sounded sleepy after his cry. “Well, they are going to hear. It’s okay, it’s no different than if you were a pledge. Everyone hearing is part of it.” “Oh.” “That okay?” “Y-yeah, I guess so.” “It is kinda hot, isn’t it?” “Y-yeah.” “Good boy.”

Glad you liked it! The old ones are here: And here: I’d forgotten how long ago I wrote those chapters! No wonder you couldn’t find them.

Kinda short and sparse. First in the series here, but those on reddit can see earlier Felix and James stories in /r/ABDLStories. “You wanna wear a Goodnite?” James pulled one out of the pack in Felix’s suitcase. He already had a diaper in his other hand. “I think I’d better. No excuse for bringing a messenger bag on a whale-watch, and I hate not having a change.” “Okay, if you’re sure. Your mom said it was a bit of a drive.” James held the training pants open and Felix stepped into them. “Want me to bring an extra, just in case?” “Where?” If James was bringing a bag anyway… “Jacket pocket.” Felix shrugged. “Sure.” The Goodnites were already ‘just in case’, but if he did have an accident it would be nice to have a dry one to change into. The whale-watch had been Felix’s mom’s idea, a fun adventure for their engagement visit. It was touristy, but James had never been, and neither Felix nor his parents could remember the last time they had. “Can I drive?” Felix asked his dad as they loaded the car. Seeing the soft cooler and beach bag his parents had packed, he felt a little regretful he’d forgone better padding—maybe his “messenger bag” would have slipped through unnoticed after all. But getting to drive his dad’s very fast car for over an hour would be some consolation. One of those privileges that only grown-ups get but only littles can truly appreciate. “Nope,” David said, getting into the driver’s seat with a smile. Felix sighed and got in the back with his fiancé. “Excited to see some whales?” James asked brightly. “We might not see any,” Felix answered. “But I am excited,” he added, not wanting it to seem like he was pouting about not getting to drive. “And we’ve had pretty good luck in the past.” James handed him the shared coffee thermos and he took a long sip. “You’ve never seen one, right?” “Only at Sea Word.” “Those don’t count,” Felix said authoritatively. “Those are just big dolphins. Panda dolphins.” “Panda dolphins?” James raised an eyebrow. “Panda dolphins,” Felix repeated, taking another sip of coffee. “Humpbacks are where it’s at.” He saw his mom roll her eyes, and wondered if he sounded too childish or just like too much of a know-it-all. He’d always been a bit of both, and loving as his parents were, they had told him as much. He felt his face growing warm, but James reached over to scritch discreetly behind his ears, and he calmed quickly. “Were you able to figure out the last time you went on one of these, Barb?” James asked. “No, never did,” she answered. “I don’t think Felix could have been in middle school yet.” Felix fidgeted. He always felt nervous and small when his mom and James talked about his childhood—which James was frequently keen on. He did like how the age difference was magnified as you went back in time: the last time he’d been on a whale-watch, James, if they’d known each other then, would have been old enough to be his babysitter. But there was something a little too knowing in how Barb sometimes answered her son-in-law-to-be’s questions. They arrived early—a virtual certainty with David driving—and decided to have an early lunch at the seafood snack bar by the dock. Not normally a big lunch eater—especially before noon—Felix couldn’t help ordering a plate of clamstrips. The deep fried bits of chewy shellfish had been his childhood introduction to mollusk-eating some twenty years earlier, and as a regional specialty of a region he no longer lived in, they were more of a treat than ever. He shared a few with James, and, not wanting to let any go to waste, polished the rest off himself. “Why are they called clam ‘strips’?” James asked. “No stomachs, just the necks.” Felix answered. “But I wonder what they do with the stomachs. Whole clams are good too but I wouldn’t want a plate of just the stomachs.” “Use ‘em to make stock, I bet.” David offered, wisely. We’d better get on the boat,” he added, standing up from the picnic table. “Okay, lemme go to the bathroom first.” “There’s one on the boat.” Felix looked over at the ticket building. He felt like he’d have to sit on the potty soon, and that would be a lot more comfortable on dry land, where the bathroom floor didn’t move beneath you. But they couldn’t risk missing the boat, so he shrugged and let his dad lead the way. The boat was built for a hundred and fifty passengers on two decks: the lower mostly enclosed, and the upper entirely open. Felix noticed the two single occupancy bathrooms (“heads”, he reminded himself) on the lower deck, “amidships”, near the stairwells. They found four seats together on the open deck, near the bow and facing the outer rail. It was the coldest and least comfortable place on the ship, but the best for spotting whales. When they were sitting and David and Barb distracting each other, James leant to whisper in Felix’s ear. “Do you still need to go potty?” Felix shook his head. “It passed?” Felix nodded, nervously checking that his parents hadn’t heard. James patted his knee. A few minutes later, the ship began to move. “At last the anchor was up…” David said, apparently racking his memory. “The sails were set, and off we glided. It was a short, cold Christmas...” “What?” James asked, looking over in confusion. “Pretty sure he’s quoting from Moby Dick,” Felix offered. Given that it was March, he hoped it was that and not dementia setting in. “The Pequod does set sail from this very harbour…” “We know, dad,” Felix said. He knew, anyway. He reminded James of the whaling museum and the little whalers’ church they’d seen the last time they’d been to New Bedford. David extolled the virtues of reading Melville for the next few minutes, and Felix closed his eyes, leaning against James for warmth. He woke up to several sensory inputs vying for his attention. The most present was James nudging him awake and telling him to get up and look at the whales. A loud PA speaker was telling him the same thing, but his gut was telling him there wasn’t time for that. “I gotta go potty,” he told James groggily, and a little louder than he meant to. But between the PA and the passengers, there was plenty of audio cover. “Oh no, not yet,” James told him. “If you go now you’re gonna miss the whales.” Felix stood up and, glouring, walked a few feet to the rail. James had been entirely right. Three humpback whales were swimming beside the boat, less than one hundred yards away. Two of them could only be seen as dark forms beneath the waves, but one was at the surface, exhaling and spraying water higher than the deck of the ship. “Anyone got a harpoon?” Felix asked, looking around at James in excitement. His gut churned and growled but he ignored it. Even if he did have an accident, he was wearing training pants. It would be worth having to change them to see this. As the exhaling whale dove, another took its place at the surface. It seemed to everyone on the ship that the pod was putting on a show. Just as the excitement began to fade, the smallest dove and then rose fast, breeching in full view and turning over to fall on its back into the waves. It was utterly engrossing. After a long, wonderful eight minutes, the whales dove once more and weren’t seen again. With a satisfied sigh, Felix came back to his body. He had to go now. “Okay, I’m gonna use the head,” he said, trying to sound casual. It wouldn’t be safe to run anyway. He turned and walked, clenching, down half the length of the boat, turning into the stairwell that led to the head. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, his heart sank. There was a line, four people long—two of them women. He looked at one of the guys in the line and gestured towards the other side of the ship. “Anyone check the other...” The stranger nodded solemnly. The end of the line was outside, near the railing. Felix went there and took his place, but he didn’t have much hope. A minute later he was sweating, and the bathroom door was yet to open. He turned to face the waves, taking deep breaths as his will to actively clench began to fail. He felt only a small mass drop into his training pants, but like pulling a plug, it was followed by a rush of liquid. The woman in front of him glanced back at him for a moment, but with all the sounds of the ship, she couldn’t be sure what she heard. Felix got out his phone. One bar, then two, then one. He texted James. “Can you bring me that spare pull-up?” James replied with a smirking emoji. Felix replied with a red, glaring one. “On my way.” Well, that was something. Everything would be fine, as long as all that liquid… He reached down to feel the seat of his jeans and found two apple-sized wet patches. Turning his back to the rail, he pulled up the hood of his windbreaker and started to cry.