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Hello and happy new year to all. I was playing a bit with ChatGPT and let it write a story for me. It is completely written by the AI, with just a not so long prompt. But it got kind of big. I thought some people might enjoy the story. It has minor AI related inconsistencies, but I think it's still a good read. So just have fun! Edit: I let it write a kind of similar story, but still kind of different plot. I really don't know if anyone even cares for that stories, but I wanted another, so if anyone wants to read it, it's here. Since I don't want to take away the audience from real writers with real talents, I just added the second story here and didn't create a new topic. Meredith's Control Chapter One: A Curious Arrangement Leon tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, standing on his tiptoes in front of the bathroom mirror, straining just to catch his reflection. His girlfriend, Meredith, was out in the living room, busily typing away at her laptop. She always had some major project at work: big team meetings, presentations for important clients, constant video conferences. Yet, she somehow always found time to keep a very close eye on him. He tried to flatten his hair, which always seemed to puff up on top of his head in a boyish swirl. At just around four feet seven inches tall, Leon had a slender, childlike build despite being eighteen years old. When Meredith—who stood at a majestic six foot one—first noticed him at a local coffee shop a few months ago, he was enamored by her confidence, her sultry laugh, and her commanding presence. Their relationship moved quickly. Too quickly for some. But for Leon, nothing could compare to the sense of protection and enthrallment he felt around her. In truth, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Meredith’s control over him stretched into the smallest corners of his day: from what he wore and how he styled his hair, to even how he used the bathroom. She managed every routine, every decision. While he sometimes complained, he also found himself secretly liking the structure. It made him feel cared for, oddly comforted. He felt guilty for resisting her, even when he found her rules embarrassing. Leon could hear the rattle of keys in the living room as Meredith shut her laptop. It was probably time to go through the day’s itinerary—a list she insisted on reviewing with him every morning. Leon sighed. He was still wearing pajamas because she had specifically told him not to get dressed by himself that day. Apparently, she had something “special” lined up for him. Slinking out of the bathroom, he walked into the living room, noticing how the top of his head barely reached the bottom of Meredith’s chest. She looked up at him, one eyebrow arched. “You’re late,” she stated in a clipped tone, tapping the face of her silver watch. “I was just—” he began, but her expression silenced him. “I already told you: no excuses. Today is a busy day for me, and I can’t have you making us run behind. Now come here.” She patted the seat of the couch next to her. Her voice carried such authority that he instantly felt a pang of guilt. He obeyed, sitting down. His tiny form sank into the cushion, emphasizing how small he was compared to her. Gently, she rested a large hand on his thigh, letting him know she wasn’t angry—just strict. Their eyes met, and there was a softness beneath her stern facade. “I have to go to the office for some time, but I’ll be back before dinner,” she said. “In the meantime, you’ll stay here. I’ve laid out clothes for you in the bedroom. You’re not to leave the apartment until I get back. Is that clear?” Leon nodded. “Yes, Meredith.” He could feel an odd mix of relief and apprehension. She was going out, but his instructions were so rigid. It felt a little lonely, spending hours in the apartment by himself with such restrictions—especially since he needed permission for almost everything. “Also…” She paused, studying his face. “Have you gone potty yet this morning?” Leon’s cheeks flushed. That question was always mortifying, though he had grown somewhat used to it. Meredith demanded to know about every trip to the bathroom. “Yes,” he mumbled, “right when I woke up.” “Good.” She turned back to her phone, tapping at some notifications. “Remember: no more breaks until lunchtime. If you have to go, wait for me to come home. I don’t want to find out you disobeyed me.” Her instructions were specific and strict. He’d been told only to use the bathroom at set times, always with her permission. Yesterday, he nearly had an accident holding it until she got back from a grocery run. As embarrassing as it felt to beg for the toilet, it was even more humiliating to lose control. But Meredith liked it that way—and, if he was honest, a small part of him thrilled at the notion of surrender. “All right,” he murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper. Meredith patted his thigh one last time before she stood up, towering over him. She bent slightly, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Be good. Don’t get into trouble.” Leon felt goosebumps on his arms. “I promise I’ll be good.” She flashed him a knowing grin, then picked up her handbag and left, locking the door behind her with a decisive click. Leon stared at the door for several moments. The apartment, though cozy, suddenly felt huge without her presence. His instructions were clear: get dressed in the clothes she chose, don’t leave the apartment, and most importantly—no bathroom breaks until lunch, when she planned to return. He exhaled. This was his life now. Part of him wanted to rebel, to say that enough was enough. But part of him loved her so much that he convinced himself he needed this, needed her. And so, with a subdued swirl of excitement and anxiety, Leon walked to the bedroom to see what she had laid out for him. Chapter Two: A Childish Wardrobe When Leon opened the bedroom door, his cheeks immediately reddened. Spread across the bed was an outfit he would have never chosen for himself: a pair of powder-blue shortalls, complete with little silver snaps running down the sides, and a plain white t-shirt to go underneath. Next to it lay ankle socks with tiny cartoon puppies stitched into the cuffs. At the foot of the bed sat bright white Velcro sneakers—another childlike touch. He inhaled a shaky breath. This was far from the most juvenile outfit Meredith had ever selected, but it still made him feel about ten years old rather than eighteen. Even if he wanted to choose something else, he knew he was not allowed. From the first week he moved in, Meredith had insisted on taking over all dressing responsibilities, often physically clothing him herself. This morning, however, she’d made an exception by laying out the outfit in advance—probably because she was in a hurry. Leon glanced at the time on his phone: 8:42 AM. He had a while before lunch, and already he could feel an uncomfortable tightness in his bladder. He’d used the bathroom upon waking up, but the morning coffee he’d had earlier was catching up to him. He swallowed hard. Meredith had said no more potty visits until she came back at noon. He tried to ignore the discomfort, telling himself she’d only be gone a few hours. With a resigned sigh, he plucked the T-shirt off the bed. He peeled off his pajama top, then slipped the T-shirt on. Finally, he lifted the shortalls and stepped into them, struggling to pull the straps over his shoulders until he heard the tiny snaps click. They fit snugly, cupping his narrow hips and accentuating how slender he was. The Velcro shoes went on last. He looked at himself in the standing mirror and cringed. The shortalls ended high on his thighs, making him look about as intimidating as a toddler. He could feel his heart pounding as he went back into the living room, half-expecting someone to be standing there laughing at him. But of course, the apartment was empty. He sank down on the sofa, turning on the TV. Maybe he could distract himself with some cartoons or a movie. He was too nervous to watch the news or a serious program. Subconsciously, he gravitated toward more childish things—something that matched how Meredith dressed him. He flicked through streaming channels until he found an old animated movie from his childhood. While it played, his mind kept drifting to the subtle pressure below his abdomen. It had been only a few weeks of abiding by her “no bathroom without permission” rule, but it was long enough that his body felt confused, uncertain when relief was actually allowed. He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The anxiety made him want to push the feeling away, yet focusing on it seemed inevitable. Time ticked by painfully slowly: 9:00… 9:15… 9:30… By 10:00, Leon was shifting in his seat, crossing his legs, and trying to stay calm. He was determined not to break the rules—he never wanted to face Meredith’s anger or disappointment. But if she didn’t come home in time… He shook his head. She said noon. You can hold it until noon, he told himself. He’d done it before. He’d do it again. Memories of the last time he disobeyed raced through his mind. About a week ago, she’d caught him sneaking off to the bathroom while she was out. He was wearing a childish onesie she had chosen, and the second she returned, he’d practically run past her toward the toilet. She noticed the onesie was unbuttoned. He’d undone it on his own. She was upset, not screaming or raging, but cold and disappointed. That, to him, was worse than any punishment. So he’d do what she wanted: hold it. By 11:15, he was practically shaking. He paced around the living room, turning the TV off because he couldn’t focus. The pressure was building painfully, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last. Finally, at 11:45, he heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Meredith stepped in, the faint smell of crisp autumn air swirling around her. She closed the door, set her purse down, and immediately looked at him with curiosity. “Hello, sweetie. How was your morning?” Leon let out a trembling breath. “It’s been okay. I… I’m glad you’re home.” She slipped off her jacket, revealing a form-fitting blouse and a knee-length skirt. She looked immaculate, her tall silhouette making him feel ridiculously small. “Did you follow the rules?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Leon nodded vigorously. “Yes. I haven’t gone to the bathroom since you left, and—Meredith, please, can I—?” She shrugged, setting her handbag on the counter. “Let me think about it.” A slow, playful grin slid across her face. Leon felt heat rise to his cheeks. He crossed his legs again, pressing them together. “Please,” he repeated, bouncing slightly in place. “Come with me to the bathroom,” she said quietly. He exhaled in relief and trailed behind her. The moment they reached the bathroom door, she turned around, blocking his entrance with an arm. “You waited, right?” “Yes,” he rasped. “Good boy.” She unfastened the shortall straps and helped him wriggle out of the garment, leaving him standing there in just his T-shirt, socks, and shoes. “All right, you may go.” She gave him a light nudge inside, standing in the doorway as if monitoring him. Usually, she supervised his toilet visits to make sure he wasn’t disobeying any hidden rules. He quickly tried to focus, lifting the seat and finally letting go. Relief flooded him, but his cheeks were bright red knowing she was right there, watching. Yet this was their arrangement—something he had grown used to, in his own shy way. When he finished, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet whimper of relief. Meredith smiled, nodding with approval. “You did well. I see no accidents,” she remarked, scanning the front of his T-shirt. Leon’s heart still pounded with the aftershock of nearly losing control. “No,” he managed to say. “No accidents.” “Good,” she repeated, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you for holding it in.” His insides fluttered at the praise. He always craved her approval. Despite the embarrassment, the rules, the slight fear, there was a warm satisfaction that came from pleasing her. “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the bathroom. “Time for lunch. Then we’ll talk about the rest of the day.” Chapter Three: The Strict Afternoon After lunch—sandwiches she prepared while he stood on a stool at the counter, helping slice tomatoes—Meredith announced she’d be working from home the remainder of the day. She had a stack of documents to handle. Leon hovered in the kitchen, uncertain what she expected of him next. She noticed his anxious glance and beckoned him closer. “It’s going to be a long work session. I need to focus,” she said. “I’ll be in the study. You can watch TV or do something quiet in the living room. But no phone calls and no computer games without permission.” Leon nodded, fiddling with the hem of his shortalls. “Okay,” he murmured. “Do I have to do anything… else?” She tilted her head. “You mean chores?” He shrugged. “Chores, or errands, or something.” “I think you can handle cleaning your room,” she said. “I’ll inspect it later. And you are to ask me if you need to use the potty, understood?” He swallowed. “Yes, Meredith.” “All right. Off you go. And remember, I’ll be checking on you.” With that, she swept away into the study, closing the door behind her. Leon glanced at the clock: 12:40 PM. The next scheduled bathroom break was usually around mid-afternoon—unless he asked for special permission, which she sometimes granted, sometimes didn’t. He made his way to the bedroom to tidy up the bedclothes. After that, he dusted and vacuumed a little, determined to impress her by staying productive. As the minutes passed, he periodically glanced at the closed study door, tempted to peek his head in and see if she wanted coffee or something. But he dreaded disturbing her. She hated interruptions when she was concentrating. Eventually, Leon returned to the living room and flopped onto the couch. The cartoon from earlier was still paused. He pressed play, letting the colorful images fill the screen. But he found it hard to relax. There was a growing sense of tension, deep down in his bladder again. Maybe that second glass of water at lunch was a bad idea. He tried to focus on the cartoon’s cheerful scenes—singing characters, bright backdrops, comedic moments. Time crawled: 1:00… 1:15… 1:30… By 2:00, the pressure was noticeable. Leon bit his lip, glancing at the study door again. Should he ask? Meredith might see it as a sign of weakness or defiance if he kept interrupting her schedule. But the alternative was risking an accident. He rummaged through the coffee table’s drawers to distract himself, coming across old board games and puzzle books. He found a half-completed crossword puzzle from weeks ago, the squares filled in by Meredith’s neat penmanship. He sighed, trying to pass the time, but the throbbing need in his abdomen kept gnawing at his thoughts. Finally, at 2:15, he couldn’t take it anymore. He padded softly over to the study door, raising his fist to knock. He hesitated, heart pounding. She was probably on a call. But if he waited any longer, something worse could happen. Summoning courage, he gave a gentle knock. “Who is it?” came her curt voice. “It’s me,” Leon answered timidly. “I… um… I need to ask you something.” “Come in.” He eased the door open. Meredith sat behind a large wooden desk, papers scattered around a laptop. She looked up, removing her glasses. “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in a low whisper, “but I really need to use the restroom.” Her lips formed a thin line. “Is it that urgent?” Leon shifted on his feet, nodding. “Kind of. I’ve been trying to hold it for a while.” Meredith let out a slow exhale, then glanced at the clock on her computer. “We were going to do that at three o’clock. But you are asking nicely…” He clasped his hands in front of him, trying to stand as still as possible. “Please, Meredith?” She pondered for a moment. “All right. But I’m going to watch, to make sure everything’s done properly. And no fussing.” His eyes widened, but he quickly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Standing up from her chair, she followed him to the bathroom. This time, she didn’t bother to unfasten his shortalls. Instead, she did it for him, as always—though with an air of slight annoyance. “Arms up,” she said, guiding the straps down. Leon turned away from her, aiming to close the door, but she stepped inside too. She always came in with him, but this time the closeness felt more imposing. “Hurry up,” she commanded. Leon’s face was practically on fire with embarrassment, but the need to relieve himself overcame his self-consciousness. He managed to get everything positioned and released. A soft gasp of relief escaped his lips. Meredith observed him carefully. When he was done, she helped him secure his shortalls back into place, snapping the straps. Then she turned on the sink faucet and waited while he washed his hands under her watchful gaze. “I won’t always let you do this,” she said softly. “I have rules for a reason. It’s important you learn how to follow them.” Leon nodded, shoulders slumping. He felt like a child receiving a reprimand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just really couldn’t wait.” She gently ruffled his hair. “Shh. It’s all right. Let’s get you back to your day.” And just like that, she returned to her study, leaving him alone in the hallway with the odd, lingering mix of relief and lingering shame. Chapter Four: Footed Sleeper Evenings Late afternoon arrived without further incident. Leon busied himself around the apartment, occasionally hearing Meredith’s voice from the study. She sounded professional and confident, reminding him of just how impressive she was in her career—and, in turn, how small he felt next to her in every regard. By the time 6:30 PM rolled around, Meredith emerged from the study, stretching her arms overhead. Her sharp gaze swept over the living room and kitchen. “Looks clean,” she commented, nodding at Leon. “Good job.” He felt a small glow of pride at her words. “Thanks,” he said. “Did you finish everything?” “Mostly,” she replied with a sigh. “I still have a bit more to do after dinner. How about you start setting the table while I check something in the bedroom?” Leon hopped up to obey, walking to the kitchen cabinets to gather plates and cutlery. He arranged them neatly, making sure everything was symmetrical—knowing she appreciated order. He placed two glasses and a set of napkins in perfect alignment, then set out the salt and pepper. Satisfied, he stepped back to admire his work. He glanced toward the bedroom, wondering what Meredith was up to. She was probably laying out his pajamas. That’s how every evening went: after dinner, she would dress him in some form of childlike sleepwear—often footed sleepers, sometimes with childish prints. If he was especially fidgety or whiny, she’d zip it in the back, removing his ability to unzip it himself. Some nights, she put on mittens, ensuring he couldn’t fiddle with the zipper. Part of him squirmed at the thought, but another part thrummed with excitement. Despite the occasional embarrassment, he found a peculiar comfort in the ritual of being tucked into bed by her. He relished the warmth of her presence, the bubble of security she created around him. She emerged a few minutes later, a sly smile on her face. “Dinner time,” she announced. “Let’s eat.” Dinner consisted of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and a small portion of rice. Leon ate quietly, occasionally meeting Meredith’s eyes. She asked him about his day, praising him for keeping busy without fussing too much. He felt an uptick of pride at her approval. However, halfway through the meal, she cleared her throat. “I noticed something when I laid out your sleeper,” she began, fixing him with a steady look. “Some of your underwear had faint stains. Care to explain?” Leon nearly choked on his chicken. He stared at her, face burning. “I… I—It’s just… from earlier,” he stammered. “I was holding it for so long, I guess maybe I leaked a little?” She narrowed her eyes. “So you had a little accident?” He stared at his plate, nodding miserably. “Y-yes, but just a tiny bit, I swear.” Meredith set her fork down. “Hmm. That’s unfortunate. After all the trust I gave you to wait until lunch, then again this afternoon. You said you managed, but apparently, you leaked enough to stain your underwear.” Leon gulped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. It wasn’t a full accident. Just a little leak.” “Regardless,” she said, her voice cool, “it shows you’re not fully in control.” His eyes pricked with tears. “Please don’t be mad.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not angry, Leon. But I’m disappointed that you’re struggling with such a simple rule. If waiting is causing you accidents, perhaps we need a more secure solution.” Her words sent a chill through him. “Wh-what do you mean?” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Let’s finish dinner, and we’ll discuss it when we get you ready for bed.” Leon nodded, his appetite diminishing. He forced the rest of his vegetables down in silence, mind spinning with worry and humiliation. He had a feeling he knew what she meant by a ‘more secure solution.’ Chapter Five: An Unexpected Development After dinner, Meredith tasked Leon with loading the dishwasher. He did so mechanically, hands slightly shaking. He couldn’t stop thinking about her cryptic mention of a “secure solution.” Could she mean what he thought she did? She disappeared back into the bedroom. By the time he finished in the kitchen, she called his name. “Leon,” she said, standing in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed. “Come here.” He approached hesitantly, heart hammering. She guided him inside, where the lamp on the nightstand cast a warm glow across the bed. Laid out on the duvet was a footed sleeper, a soft pastel-green color with a subtle pattern of tiny stars. Its zipper ran up the front, but a small padlock mechanism was threaded through the zipper pull. Next to it on the bed was a folded, puffy item. Leon’s stomach dropped. It was a diaper—a large, adult-sized diaper with cartoonish designs across the padding. He stared, speechless. His mind reeled. Sure, Meredith had teased about diapers before, mostly in a half-joking manner when he slipped up or whined too much. But he never thought she’d actually follow through. They were both adults, after all. Even if she treated him as if he were younger, diapers still felt like an extreme step. “I… I…” he started, but no words came out. Meredith cocked her head, her tall frame radiating authority. “These are for nights when you can’t maintain control,” she said calmly. “You’ve proven that you sometimes have accidents while trying to follow the rules. I don’t want you ruining your underwear or the sheets.” Leon’s face burned. “B-but… I—” She held up a hand. “Shh. We’re trying this tonight. Hopefully, it will teach you to be more mindful of your potty breaks when they’re scheduled. If you truly have no accidents, maybe we won’t need these. But for now…” She motioned to the diaper. “Take off your clothes.” He hesitated, a thick lump in his throat, but he knew better than to argue. He undid the shortalls and let them pool at his feet, then peeled off the T-shirt. Meredith patted the bed. “Lie down,” she instructed. Trying not to cry from humiliation, Leon sank onto the mattress, his small frame dwarfed by the plush bed. Meredith picked up the diaper, opening it with a loud crinkle. She maneuvered it under him, adjusting it carefully, then folded it up between his legs. The padding was thick, soft, and unmistakably babyish. Velcro tapes fastened at the sides. She smoothed the tapes, making sure it was snug around his waist. Leon swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill. The sensation of the diaper hugging his lower half was strange and overwhelming. The thick bulk between his legs forced them apart slightly. Meredith leaned over him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. “Don’t be upset,” she cooed. “It’s just for your protection, and for my peace of mind. You might even find it comforting.” He shut his eyes, nodding wordlessly. Next, she guided his feet into the footed sleeper, pulling it up his body. Once his arms were inside, she zipped it up, locking the zipper with a small padlock near the neck. There would be no unzipping this without her key. Leon shivered, suddenly aware he was completely at her mercy. He could feel the diaper pressing against him, a constant reminder of his humiliation. Yet a small, secret part of him felt a twinge of guilty relief. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about leaking if he had to hold it too long… Meredith helped him off the bed, turning him to face the dresser mirror. “Look at that,” she said softly. “It fits you well, doesn’t it?” He caught a glimpse of himself: a short, slender young man clad in a pastel sleeper, locked, and obviously padded. It was juvenile, babyish, and undeniably humiliating. And yet, he felt a warmth coil in his chest, an odd sense of safety. Meredith leaned down, placing a lingering kiss on top of his head. “All set. Now, it’s still early, so you can stay up with me in the living room if you want to watch TV. But I don’t want you messing with that diaper. Understood?” Leon gulped. “Yes, Meredith,” he whispered. With that, she took his hand, leading him out to the living room, where they sat on the couch together. She switched on a TV show, sliding an arm around his shoulders. He rested his cheek against her side, feeling the crinkle of the diaper whenever he shifted. Her warmth enveloped him. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn’t deny the closeness and the comfort he felt pressed against her. They watched quietly for a while, the only sounds being occasional dialogue from the show and the subtle rustle of Leon’s diaper when he moved. Though she was being strict, Meredith also exuded a gentle tenderness. She smoothed her hand over his hair, letting him relax against her. He wondered if this was how children felt when nestled against a mother’s side—but no, that thought was too strange. He was an adult, even if everything about this arrangement suggested otherwise. After an hour or so, she clicked off the TV. “You’re probably tired. Let’s get you in bed.” Leon’s eyes fluttered. “Okay.” She led him back to the bedroom, helping him climb under the covers. The diaper’s thickness made him waddle slightly, but she made no mention of it. Once he was tucked in, she leaned down to give him a soft kiss goodnight. “Sleep well, little one,” she murmured, stroking his cheek. Leon felt a pang in his chest. Despite the embarrassment, he sensed an overpowering love for her. She had so much control, but also so much care. He closed his eyes, nodding. “Goodnight, Meredith,” he whispered. She switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The faint sound of her footsteps retreated, and the door clicked shut, leaving him alone with the soft rustle of his own humiliating bedtime attire. Yet despite everything, he drifted off feeling oddly comforted. Chapter Six: A Morning of Conflicting Emotions Leon awoke the next morning, squinting at the streams of daylight creeping in through the blinds. He tried to stretch, but the footed sleeper resisted his movement. The padlock at the collar was still firmly in place. Immediately, he became aware of the thick diaper around his waist. His heart pounded as he recalled last night’s humiliating bedtime routine. He shifted, feeling a slight warmth in the diaper’s padding. Dread stabbed at his chest. Had he wet himself in his sleep? He pressed his thighs together, and sure enough, the diaper felt heavier and damp. A wave of shame washed over him. He couldn’t remember when it happened. He had dozed off so deeply he never even woke up to use the bathroom. A swirl of conflicting emotions rose inside him: embarrassment, confusion, and, strangely, relief. At least the bed was dry. He heard footsteps approaching. In a moment, Meredith appeared, her tall frame filling the doorway. She smiled softly. “Good morning,” she greeted. “Sleep well?” Leon stammered, unsure how to respond. “I—I guess so.” Her gaze fell to his padded midsection. “Did you stay dry?” she asked, though the faint smirk suggested she already suspected the answer. He glanced away, cheeks aflame. “No,” he muttered. “I… had an accident.” Meredith strode over, unlocking the small padlock at his neckline with a tiny key. She slowly pulled the zipper down, revealing the sagging diaper. She pressed the padding gently, confirming it was indeed wet. Leon squirmed, face contorting with humiliation. “Well,” she said at last, “this just proves my point. You need diapers for bedtime until further notice.” Leon’s eyes stung with tears. He hated feeling so incompetent, but found himself nodding obediently. “Yes, Meredith.” “Now, let’s get you cleaned up,” she said. She helped him out of the sleeper, rolling it aside to wash later. Then, carefully, she removed the diaper. The cool morning air brushed his skin. She took a pack of wipes from a shelf in the closet—he hadn’t noticed them before—and began gently cleaning him. He winced at the profound vulnerability of it all, but she was methodical and calm, as though caring for a dependent child. When she finished, she gave his hip a reassuring pat. “Now, go shower. I’ll find you some fresh clothes.” Leon didn’t need any more prompting. He hurried to the bathroom, stepping into the warm shower spray. As he scrubbed away the night’s shame, he let out a trembling sigh. Part of him felt humiliated beyond words, but another part felt a surprising sense of freedom in not having to worry about whether he wet the bed or not—Meredith took care of everything. Chapter Seven: Trying to Please Her After the shower, Leon found another childish outfit waiting on the bed: a bright red T-shirt with a cartoon lion on the front, and a pair of elastic-waist shorts that threatened to show the outline of any padded undergarment if he wore them. However, Meredith had not placed a diaper beside them this time. It seemed he was expected to manage on his own during the day—at least for now. He dressed quickly, then padded into the living room where Meredith was sipping coffee. She motioned for him to sit. “I’m going into the office again,” she announced. “I have some errands afterward, so I won’t be back until early evening. Think you can handle it?” Leon nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Her eyes flickered toward his shorts. “No diapers right now, but you’re still required to ask permission for the potty, remember?” A knot formed in his stomach. “B-but… you won’t be here,” he said. “How am I supposed to ask for permission?” “You’ll text me first,” Meredith said, as if it were the most obvious solution. “Wait for my response. If I approve, you can use the bathroom. Understood?” Leon swallowed hard. “Yes.” She arched an eyebrow. “I mean it. If I find out you disobeyed, or if there’s any sign of accidents again, you’ll be wearing a diaper all day tomorrow as well. Clear?” A flush crept over his face. “Clear,” he replied softly. Meredith nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, I have to go. You have your instructions.” She kissed his forehead, grabbed her handbag, and left. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Leon alone with his swirling thoughts once more. It was nearly 9 AM. He had to figure out how to keep himself occupied all day without leaving the apartment, and with the added stress of obtaining permission to use the bathroom via text message. He eyed the clock nervously. Typically, she gave him scheduled breaks: morning, midday, afternoon, evening. But now the dynamic was different—he had to ask every single time. Leon sighed, trying to calm the flutter in his belly. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself, rummaging around the kitchen for a small breakfast. He settled on cereal, though he couldn’t help but measure how much milk and juice he poured, terrified of needing to go too soon. Chapter Eight: Accidents, Consequences, and Confessions By lunchtime, Leon’s nerves were already shot. He’d texted Meredith around 11, asking if he could go to the bathroom. She replied after ten agonizing minutes of waiting, finally granting permission. He managed to avoid an accident that time. But around 1 PM, as he sat quietly in the living room reading a book, he felt another urge. He checked the time. Meredith had mentioned she’d be in an important meeting from 1 to 2 PM, so he hesitated. If she was in the meeting, she might not respond to texts promptly. Should he send her a message anyway and risk bothering her? Or should he hold it, hoping she’d be free soon? Eventually, he sent her a short text: “Hi, Meredith. May I please use the bathroom?” The minutes passed. No response. The minutes turned to a half-hour. Leon began to pace, sipping his water nervously, which only made things worse. By 1:40, he was practically dancing in place, pressing his thighs together. Still nothing. He sent another, more urgent text: “Please, Meredith. It’s an emergency.” At 1:50, he still hadn’t heard from her. His bladder burned, and tears pricked his eyes. He wanted desperately to follow her rule, but he was about to burst. Could he risk it? Maybe she wouldn’t mind if he used the bathroom since it was an actual emergency. But she had been so explicit. Disobeying meant guaranteed diapers the next day. Could he endure that shame again? He fidgeted, leaning against the wall, clenching every muscle he could. The world around him seemed to blur in a haze of desperation. 1:55… Leon couldn’t hold it. With a choked sob, he felt warmth flood his shorts. The liquid trickled down his legs, pooling on the floor. He froze, horrified. His cheeks burned with shame as he stood there in a puddle. He’d truly wet himself in the living room, at eighteen years old. Trembling, he grabbed paper towels, trying to mop up the evidence of his accident. He peeled off his sodden shorts and underwear, tossing them into the washing machine, desperately hoping to hide the mess before Meredith returned. But he couldn’t deny what had happened. He had broken the rule—except he hadn’t, had he? He’d tried to get permission, but she never responded. At 2:05, his phone buzzed. Meredith’s text appeared: “Yes, you can go now. Sorry for the delay.” Leon nearly burst into tears. It was too late. Chapter Nine: Love and Control Meredith arrived home around 5 PM. Leon was perched anxiously on the couch in a fresh pair of shorts, heart hammering. The moment she entered, he felt tears pricking his eyes. He needed to confess before she discovered the evidence. She set her purse down and fixed him with an expectant stare. “Well, did everything go smoothly?” Leon stood, hands shaking. “I—I tried. I texted you. Twice,” he said. “You didn’t respond until it was too late.” His voice trembled with shame. “I had an accident.” She pressed her lips together. “Where?” “In the living room,” he muttered, glancing down. “I cleaned it up right away. I’m sorry.” Meredith rubbed her temple. “Leon,” she began in a weary tone, “I gave you one simple rule. Did you try waiting or…?” He shook his head. “I did wait. I tried to hold it until you responded. But then I—I couldn’t anymore.” She sighed, stepping closer to him. He braced himself for anger, but instead, she pulled him into a loose embrace. He smelled the faint perfume in her hair. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Accidents happen when you’re forced to wait like that.” Leon buried his face against her, tears wetting her blouse. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” Meredith patted his back. “I know you tried. This arrangement might be too strict for your body to handle. Maybe I pushed you too far.” He blinked, pulling back, confused. “You… you think so?” She nodded, cupping his cheek. “Leon, I want to take care of you. I love you. But if these rules cause you distress and accidents, maybe we need to adjust them.” Leon stared up at her, feeling both relief and a pang of disappointment. As restrictive as the rules were, a part of him craved her control. “I… I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered. She kissed his forehead. “My sweet boy, you could never truly disappoint me if you’re honest with me. Let’s find a way that keeps you comfortable without accidents, all right?” He nodded, eyes stinging. “Yes, Meredith.” She smoothed down his hair. “That said, the diapers at night will continue. It’s clear you’re still having trouble staying dry. And maybe we’ll have you wear them during the day if you’re feeling uncertain. No more holding it to the point of accidents. Agreed?” A complicated mix of dread and comfort flooded him. “Agreed,” he said softly. That evening, after a light dinner and some shared relaxation time on the couch, Meredith once more led him to the bedroom. She had prepared another diaper and the familiar pastel-green sleeper, complete with the back-zip design. This time, he didn’t resist. He let her tape the diaper around his waist, welcoming the soft, bulky security. He noticed that she had sewn a small loop at the back of the sleeper’s collar, likely where she’d attach the padlock or a similar clasp. She pulled it up his body, sealing him in. Leon sighed as she locked him into the sleeper. Oddly enough, he felt relief. There would be no more frantic dashes or accidents; if it happened, at least he was protected. He laid down on the bed, exhaling the tension of the day. “Tomorrow, we can talk more about your potty schedule,” Meredith said, brushing a hand through his hair. “I still want you to ask permission, but we’ll give you a diaper if I’m away. That way, you won’t have to worry.” Leon looked up at her, a small smile ghosting his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered. She returned the smile, bending low to plant a gentle kiss on his lips. “I love you, little one.” Tears threatened to surface again, but they were tears of gratitude this time. “I love you too,” he choked out. Settling down under the covers, he listened to the calming sound of her breathing as she tucked him in. Despite the infantile attire, or perhaps because of it, a sense of safety blossomed in his chest. Meredith was demanding, controlling, and sometimes completely over the top—but she was also caring, nurturing, and, above all, his. Chapter Ten: Renewed Determination Despite the tension and embarrassment of Leon’s accident in Chapter Nine, the next morning dawned with a surprising sense of calm in the apartment. The living room was bathed in golden light as Leon padded out from the bedroom, diaper rustling softly beneath the pastel-green footed sleeper. He still wore the back-zip pajamas because Meredith—early to rise and already dressed in slacks and a blouse—wanted to supervise his morning routine. “Good morning,” she greeted, looking up from her laptop on the couch. “Sleep okay?” Leon nodded, cheeks flushing with the familiar bashfulness that came from being locked into his sleeper all night. “Yes,” he murmured, eyes drifting to the floor. “Thank you.” Meredith patted the cushion beside her, beckoning him to sit. The couch dipped under her weight as she scooted closer, one arm resting comfortably over his shoulders. “Let’s see how you did,” she said, reaching for the small lock at his collar. Her tone was neither cruel nor mocking—it was simply matter-of-fact, the caring severity of someone who expected to find a wet diaper. She withdrew the key from her pocket and unlocked the tab securing the zipper. The faint click sent a tremor of apprehension through Leon. Gently, she pulled the zipper down, revealing the thick, slightly damp diaper around his waist. A sigh escaped her lips—part relief, part acknowledgment. “Not too bad,” she said. “Still wet, but not soaked.” Leon rubbed his arms, noticing goosebumps from the morning chill. “I’m sorry,” he said automatically. She shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize every time. We’ve talked about this. Diapers are here to help until you learn to manage. And if you can’t, well… that’s okay too. We’ll make sure you’re protected.” A swirl of conflicting emotion swept through him. He both hated and secretly welcomed the security of her strict care. Even if it made him feel smaller, something about her unwavering control comforted him. “All right,” Meredith said, gently pressing her warm palm against his upper back. “Let’s get you changed and dressed. We have errands today.” Leon exhaled a soft sigh of resignation. There was never any real choice in the matter—only the understanding that, under her guidance, he would be taken care of. She walked him to the bedroom, where a fresh diaper and a modest outfit lay waiting on the neatly made bed. This time, he noticed the diapers were in the open, lined up on a shelf—obviously a new normal. “You’ll wear this for the day,” she said, tapping the folded padding. “I have a busy schedule, and I can’t always answer your texts immediately. So, no accidents in your shorts this time.” Leon’s face burned with a mixture of shame and relief. “Yes, Meredith,” he murmured obediently. She set about changing him, wiping him down before securing the tapes snug around his hips. With practiced ease, she helped him step into a pair of casual khaki shorts and a short-sleeve polo that—thankfully—didn’t look too childish. However, as soon as he stood up, the outline of the diaper was unmistakable beneath the fabric, giving him a slight waddle. He fidgeted, unsure how to hide it. Meredith tilted his chin up with her finger. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “You’re under my protection. I won’t let anyone see more than necessary. Now, get your shoes on. We’re heading out soon.” Leon swallowed hard, nodding. A renewed determination to trust her—and to obey her strict potty rules—settled in his chest. If wearing a diaper in public was the price to avoid accidents, he would accept it. After all, he loved her. And in his own private way, he loved this nurturing dominance she provided. Chapter Eleven: An Outing of Discomfort Meredith parked the car outside a bustling shopping center, sunlight glinting off the polished vehicles in the lot. Leon sat in the passenger seat, heart thumping. He hadn’t been outside in a diaper often—usually, Meredith arranged short, discreet errands or handled them alone. Yet here they were, preparing for a full afternoon of shopping. He was diapered under his khaki shorts, his every movement producing a barely audible crinkle. Fear gnawed at him. What if someone heard? What if someone noticed the slight bulge? Meredith unfastened her seatbelt, turning toward him. “Ready?” Leon’s fingers twisted in his lap. “I—yes,” he said, voice trembling. “But—do I really have to wear this in public?” A trace of amusement danced across Meredith’s features, but she tempered it with understanding. “Yes, Leon. You know the rules. You’ve had accidents, and I can’t keep leaving you alone in the apartment every time I need to run errands. This is safer.” His cheeks burned a deep crimson. “I—I understand,” he managed. She offered a small, reassuring smile before exiting the car. Reluctantly, Leon followed, stepping onto the asphalt. The sensation of the diaper’s padding made his walk slightly bow-legged. He glanced around nervously, certain everyone would see. But the world carried on, no one giving him more than a passing glance. It was a busy weekend afternoon: couples strolling hand in hand, parents corralling rambunctious kids, elderly folks lugging grocery bags. No one seemed to notice the shy, diminutive eighteen-year-old waddling after his tall girlfriend. Meredith led him through a few stores, picking up home essentials and groceries. She maintained a calm composure, instructing him softly if she wanted help grabbing an item. Occasionally, she’d slip her arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the crowd. Despite the unwavering sense of embarrassment, Leon felt a protective warmth emanating from her touch. Midway through their errands, as they stopped at a store to browse kitchen utensils, Leon’s eyes widened. The dull pressure in his bladder reminded him of an awkward truth: if he needed to use the bathroom, he had to ask Meredith. And given their conversation, he suspected she might make him use the diaper instead—especially in a public restroom scenario where it might be less private. Swallowing hard, he tugged lightly at her sleeve. “Meredith?” he whispered. She was examining a set of ceramic bowls but turned at his soft plea. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” “I… I have to go,” he admitted, cheeks blazing. “Number one.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Hmm. Well, we could go to the bathroom. But then I’d have to help you remove everything.” Her tone was sympathetic yet firm. “It might be easier if you just let your diaper handle it. That’s what it’s for.” Leon felt a knot twist in his stomach. Wet himself on purpose, in a public store? The thought horrified him. But she was right—unfastening and refastening a taped diaper in a public restroom stall seemed equally daunting. “Let’s finish shopping,” she said in a low voice. “If it’s urgent, use your diaper. Then I’ll change you when we get home.” Leon’s entire face felt aflame. But he couldn’t argue; she was in charge. He stayed close to her side, trying to will his bladder to remain calm. Yet within minutes, the urge intensified. Eventually, he yielded, letting go in subtle spurts, feeling warmth spread through the padding. His heart thumped—he was wetting himself in the middle of a store, next to his girlfriend. It was humiliating and strangely intimate. By the time they checked out and returned to the car, the diaper clung heavily to his skin. Meredith noticed the slight sag, her expression shifting to one of tender concern. “You okay?” she asked, voice gentle. He nodded, too humiliated to speak. As they climbed back into the car, he squirmed against the seat, the wet diaper pressing against him. Meredith placed a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezed. It was a reminder that she was proud of him for following the rules—odd though those rules might be. They drove home in silence, tension coiling in his chest. Yet beneath it all, a flutter of relief swirled: he had obeyed her. He had done what she said, and there was a strange sense of accomplishment in that submission. Maybe he was just relieved to know she’d soon change him, freeing him from the clammy discomfort. Leon stared out the window, cheeks still burning, as he braced himself for the next step: reporting his soggy diaper to Meredith like a dependent child. And, in a bittersweet twist, he realized that he no longer felt quite as anxious about it—because he trusted her. Chapter Twelve: Adjusting and Accepting When they arrived home, Meredith wasted no time ushering Leon to the bedroom. He felt her warm hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, guiding him inside. The memory of his wet diaper burned in his mind, a tangible reminder of how little control he was supposed to have. “Let’s get you changed,” she said, her voice low and calm, almost comforting. Leon perched on the edge of the bed, arms folded uncertainly. Meredith stepped into the closet, retrieving a pack of wipes and another diaper from the growing stash. The plastic packaging crinkled loudly as she pulled one out. He lifted his hips obediently, allowing her to peel down his shorts. A wave of cool air brushed his thighs, intensifying the humiliating awareness of the heavy, sagging diaper around his waist. Her expression remained calm—patient, even—like a caretaker simply doing what had to be done. “You did well,” she murmured as she undid the tapes. “I know it must have been scary.” Leon swallowed, cheeks reddening. “It was,” he admitted softly. “I… I don’t like doing that in public. But… if it’s what you want—” She set the soaked diaper aside, using a gentle wipe to clean him. “It’s not about what I want,” she corrected him, though her tone hinted otherwise. “It’s about what works for us. You’re prone to accidents. I don’t want you stressed or embarrassed about sneaking off to the bathroom. A diaper solves that.” He nodded, though a twinge of confusion fluttered in his stomach. Part of him wondered if he was truly that helpless, or if her controlling nature had simply convinced him so. Yet her nurturing presence soothed away his doubts. Feeling the soft, fresh diaper taped securely around his waist brought a wave of both shame and relief. Once she finished, she handed him a pair of comfortable sweatpants. “Wear these for the rest of the day,” she said, then paused, meeting his gaze. “Leon, if you need to use the bathroom and I’m around, I’ll help you remove everything. But if you’re alone, you should use your diaper, okay? No more accidents on the floor or in your underwear.” A small nod was all he could manage. “Yes, Meredith.” Her eyes seemed to soften. She leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re doing great. I’m proud of how cooperative you’ve been.” That simple praise flooded him with an inexplicable warmth. He realized how deeply he craved her approval. Every small gesture of reassurance seemed to justify the surrender he felt, the childlike acceptance of her rules. It was disorienting, yet undeniably comforting. The rest of the evening fell into a gentle rhythm. She guided him through a few household tasks—organizing drawers, vacuuming the living room—activities that he performed in his thick, padded undergarment, constantly aware of the faint crinkle with each step. Yet by nightfall, he realized he wasn’t quite as self-conscious as before. He could move freely, even forgetting at times that a diaper was taped around his waist. And so, as bedtime approached, Meredith once again led him through the ritual: a final bathroom check under her supervision, then a fresh night diaper, followed by a whimsical footed sleeper zipped and locked at the back. She tucked him in, pressed a goodnight kiss to his forehead, and switched off the lamp. In the darkness, Leon sighed. This new sense of routine—of wearing diapers day and night—didn’t feel quite as alien as it once had. He wondered if that was a good thing, or if it simply meant he was losing pieces of his adulthood. But his mind didn’t dwell on it long. Exhaustion took him, and he drifted off, lulled by the gentle rustle of his padded underwear and the knowledge that Meredith was proud of him. Chapter Thirteen: Testing Boundaries The days rolled by in a blur of routine: breakfast together, a diaper check, dressing in youthful clothes Meredith chose, occasional errands if she needed something, and always the unwavering rule of requesting permission—or using his diaper—whenever nature called. Leon found himself settling into the pattern with surprising ease. But with familiarity came curiosity—and a streak of rebellion. One afternoon, Meredith stepped out to pick up a package from the building’s reception desk. She instructed Leon to remain in the apartment, as usual. Sinking onto the living room couch, Leon felt the snug pull of his diaper around his hips, reminding him of his constant lack of autonomy. A stray thought nudged at him. What if he tried removing the diaper himself, just to see if he could? Perhaps he’d use the toilet without waiting for her. He was an adult—eighteen, yes, and short, but perfectly capable of managing the simplest bodily functions without a caretaker’s guidance. Right? The idea bloomed into a daring impulse. Meredith wouldn’t be gone long. If he acted quickly, he could strip off the diaper, use the bathroom, and tape it back in place—she might never know, unless she checked the tapes closely. His heart pounded. Could he pull it off? With trembling hands, he stood and slipped into the bedroom, shutting the door. He stared at himself in the dresser mirror—his small frame swaddled in a childlike T-shirt and an unmistakable diaper bulge. Taking a shaky breath, he peeled down his sweatpants to reveal the tapes. He’d never removed them on his own; Meredith always did it for him. Nervous excitement thrummed in his veins. Slowly, he reached for one of the tapes, pulling it free with a soft ripping sound. He paused, listening for footsteps or voices in the hallway. Silence. Emboldened, he undid the second tape. A moment later, the diaper slid to the floor with a dull thud. For the first time in days, he felt the cool air against his bare skin. But just as he turned to head for the bathroom, he heard the distinctive jingle of keys at the front door. Panic shot through him. He scrambled, trying to lift the diaper back into place, fumbling with the tapes. His hands shook so badly that he couldn’t align them properly. “Leon?” Meredith’s voice, suddenly closer than he expected. He froze, a terrible realization sinking in: she had the keys, and the apartment door was already open. He pictured her stepping inside, noticing the bedroom door closed. Any second now, she’d be here. His eyes darted around for a place to hide. His heart hammered. The diaper was half-secured, one tape crooked, the other barely stuck to the front panel. Before he could fully fix it, the bedroom door opened. Meredith stood in the threshold, eyebrows arched. Her gaze swept over him—pants around his ankles, the diaper precariously attached, guilt shining in his eyes. He swallowed, feeling a wave of mortification so intense it made him dizzy. She took a measured step forward, an unreadable expression on her face. “Care to explain?” she asked softly, though her tone carried the weight of disappointment. Leon’s eyes stung with imminent tears. “I—I just…” His voice wavered. “I wanted to use the toilet. By myself.” Silence stretched. Then she shut the door behind her, crossing her arms. The tension in the room was palpable. “You know the rules,” she said quietly. “If you need the toilet and I’m not here, you use your diaper or wait.” He bit his lip, tears blurring his vision. “I—I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to prove I could do it on my own.” Meredith’s gaze softened slightly, though her posture remained firm. “Get on the bed,” she said, nodding toward the mattress. “Lie down.” He obeyed, shuffling awkwardly and sinking onto the comforter. She followed, kneeling beside him, methodically reattaching the diaper’s tapes. Though her movements were gentle, a current of disappointment tinged the air. “I’m not punishing you because you need help,” she explained, voice subdued. “I’m upset because you broke trust. You tried to remove the diaper behind my back instead of talking to me.” Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just feel so… helpless sometimes.” Meredith’s expression softened further. She cupped his cheek, brushing a tear away with her thumb. “I know it can be hard. But we made an agreement. I need you to respect it.” He nodded miserably. “I will… I promise.” She helped him stand, pulling his sweatpants up over the re-secured diaper. Then, with surprising tenderness, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing him against her tall frame. “You’ll be wearing thicker diapers for a while,” she murmured. “And I’ll check them more often. I have to be sure I can trust you.” Leon’s chest clenched. The idea of bigger, more conspicuous padding made his stomach sink. Yet he deserved it, he supposed, for breaking the rules. “I understand,” he said hoarsely, arms sliding around her waist. She held him quietly for a moment, letting the tension ebb. He felt her lips graze his temple, a soft, reassuring gesture. The conflict between frustration and comfort roiled inside him. Part of him wanted more independence; part of him felt relief that she refused to let him fend for himself. Without further discussion, she led him back to the living room, returning to their daily routine. But now a new tension lingered—an unspoken reminder that she was always in control, and that if he tried to break free, the rules would only tighten. And for reasons that baffled him, a small, conflicted part of Leon found a flicker of solace in that unwavering authority. Chapter Fourteen: Closer Under Stricter Rules The weeks following Leon’s failed act of independence were marked by intensified control. Meredith insisted on thicker diapers, even during short outings. His schedule became more rigid. Now, each morning after breakfast, she’d conduct a “diaper check” to ensure he was properly padded and that he hadn’t tampered with the tapes. Whenever she left him alone, she’d set timeframes for when he could text or call. Sometimes she’d even leave the bedroom door open so she could keep an eye on him from other parts of the apartment. At first, Leon felt smothered—his guilt over lying to her was matched only by the frustration of feeling like a child. Yet something unexpected blossomed in the midst of these stricter measures: an undeniable closeness. Each small act of nurturing drew them nearer in an odd, secret way. When Meredith changed him out of a soggy diaper with gentle reassurance, he felt loved. When she praised him for complying with his schedule, he felt proud. Their bond, once overshadowed by fear and embarrassment, grew into a new kind of intimacy. It happened late one evening, as she was zipping him into a fresh footed sleeper. He lay on the bed, arms folded, face flushed, while she carefully aligned the zipper. Once it was done, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips—a kiss that, for the first time, felt more than protective. There was a hint of passion, an adult warmth. Leon’s heart fluttered. She pulled away slowly. “I love taking care of you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky in the dim bedroom light. “Even if you test my patience sometimes.” Leon swallowed, eyes shining. “I love you,” he breathed, the admission trembling with vulnerability. “I—I really do.” She brushed a hand over his cheek, hooking a finger around the sleeper’s collar to ensure it was snug. “I know,” she replied, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “That’s why this works—because we trust each other, don’t we?” He nodded. “I’m sorry about before… trying to remove the diaper on my own. I won’t do it again.” Meredith’s smile softened. “I believe you,” she said, then locked the tiny clasp at the nape of his neck. The soft clink of metal felt final. “Now, get some rest.” With that, she flicked off the overhead light, leaving only a bedside lamp. He burrowed under the covers while she settled beside him for a moment, stroking his hair as though soothing a restless child. The gentle caress lulled him into a half-doze, each breath in tandem with the quiet hiss of air conditioning. He felt a surge of affection so strong it was almost painful. Yes, her rules could be stifling. Yes, he sometimes hated feeling dependent. But she was also his haven—his protector, who willingly took on this responsibility to keep him safe and stress-free. In that sense, the diapers, the childish clothes, and the locked sleepers were all expressions of her unwavering commitment. Eventually, she stood to leave, switching off the lamp entirely. “Goodnight, little one,” she whispered, her voice floating through the darkness. Leon closed his eyes, sinking into the pillow with a soft rustle of crinkling plastic. “Goodnight,” he managed, comforted by her presence even as she slipped away. And as he drifted into sleep, he wondered if this deepening closeness was worth the cost of his dwindling autonomy. Chapter Fifteen: The Unshakable Bond Morning light found Leon stirring early, roused by a nagging pressure in his bladder. He blinked sleep from his eyes, momentarily forgetting the confines of his locked footed sleeper. As he attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, the thick padding between them reminded him precisely of his predicament. For a fleeting second, panic seized him—he needed to go, and there was no easy way out. But then memory returned in a warm rush: Meredith. She would help him. He just had to call out. “Meredith?” he croaked softly, clearing his throat. “Meredith!” A moment later, the bedroom door opened, revealing her tall silhouette, hair in a loose ponytail. She flicked on the lamp, letting a soft glow illuminate her concerned face. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Leon swallowed, cheeks warming. “I—uh, need the bathroom. Please.” Her gaze flickered to the locked collar of his sleeper, then down to his diaper. “Let’s see…” she murmured. She retrieved the key from the dresser and came closer. “We’ll get you out. Hold on.” He exhaled shakily as she unlocked the small metal clasp, unzipped him, and peeled open the footed pajamas. The crisp air prickled his skin. Within seconds, he was free—except for the diaper taped tightly around him. “Stand up,” she directed, guiding him gently. He pressed his thighs together, bladder now pleading for release. She plucked at the diaper’s tapes, revealing his bare hips. “All set,” she announced. Without waiting another second, Leon darted to the bathroom. This time, there was no condescending observation or requirement to text for permission—she was right there, consenting to let him go. Relief washed over him, both physically and emotionally. When he finished, Meredith stood by the sink, watching calmly. Wordlessly, she handed him a fresh diaper, indicating he should rejoin her in the bedroom. Leon obeyed, though he felt a flicker of pride. She was letting him do part of it himself—at least carrying the diaper. Back in the bedroom, he lay on the bed, anticipating her usual routine of taping him up. But she surprised him by placing the diaper in his hands. “Try,” she said softly. His eyes widened. “You… you want me to do it?” She nodded, an encouraging smile on her lips. “Yes. Go on, show me.” Nervous but determined, Leon unfolded the diaper. He positioned it under himself, fumbling with the tapes. Twice, the adhesive caught on the wrong spot, creating crooked wings. Meredith watched patiently, offering occasional suggestions: “Bring it up a bit higher in front,” or “Tighten the left tape.” After some clumsy effort, he managed a passable fit. It felt snug—but not quite as neat as when she did it. Still, a wave of satisfaction rippled through him. The partial freedom of dressing himself was exhilarating, even if the result was still a diaper. Meredith patted the front. “Good job,” she praised. “Now, it’s not perfect, but it’ll hold for a while.” He beamed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The subtle acknowledgment that he could do something as basic as tape on his own diaper, under her supervision, felt like an important step. It was a small slice of autonomy within the realm of her control. “We’ll see how you manage,” she continued, smoothing down his hair. “If you do well, maybe I’ll let you take more responsibility for your changes—under my guidance, of course.” Leon nodded, heart fluttering. “Thank you,” he whispered earnestly. In that moment, a new understanding passed between them. Their bond was unshakable now, grounded not just in her dominance but in a shared willingness to adapt. She’d grown stricter after he broke her trust, but she also recognized his desire for a smidge of independence. They didn’t need to be locked in an endless cycle of parent and child. They were lovers, partners—albeit in a very unconventional arrangement. And so, as Meredith helped him into a pair of soft lounge pants, the corners of her mouth turned up in a gentle smile. “Let’s go have breakfast,” she said, lacing her fingers through his and giving him a tender squeeze. Leon squeezed back, feeling the padded bulk beneath his pants but no longer drowning in shame. Yes, it was still embarrassing, and he still had rules and limitations, but he was beginning to realize that, at the core of it all, they truly cared for each other. Their relationship wasn’t defined by his size or her control, but by the intimacy and trust they cultivated day by day. He followed her out to the kitchen, diaper rustling in time with his step. Love blossomed in his chest, soft and certain. They were forging a balance—one where she guided him with structure, and he offered devotion and openness in return. For the first time since this odd journey began, Leon felt confident that despite the diapers, the childish clothes, and the potty rules, he and Meredith were heading toward something healthy and lasting: a bond that neither of them ever wanted to break. Epilogue A few months later, their small apartment felt more like a sanctuary than ever. The bedroom closet now housed a full set of neatly stacked diapers and childish outfits. A special drawer even contained footed sleepers with various colors and prints. Leon sometimes giggled at just how large their “babyish” collection had grown—and how routine it had become to wear them. But if anyone asked how they lived, they would never fully understand the tapestry of love and control woven into their day-to-day. Leon was still small for his age, and Meredith still stood a majestic six foot one—always a striking figure next to him. Yet their dynamic had evolved into a fluid dance between caretaker and lover, discipline and compassion. Most mornings, Leon took pride in taping on his own diaper under Meredith’s watchful eye, a sign of trust regained after his earlier missteps. He appreciated that small allowance of autonomy, even if the end result—padded underwear—remained the same. They had found a middle ground: Leon could participate in the process while still relying on Meredith’s guidance and final approval. Their schedules remained structured: breakfast together, chores or errands, and occasional nights out when Meredith felt he could handle a discrete pull-up beneath carefully chosen clothes. She insisted on the same strict potty rules—permission required, or else using his diaper. Yet she was more flexible in granting him access to the toilet if he asked politely and the timing worked. She even allowed him the small triumph of undressing himself sometimes, though major clothing changes—especially diaper changes—were still primarily her domain. And Leon discovered that, in this near-constant state of managed dependency, he found security. The embarrassment never fully disappeared—he still blushed whenever she patted his diaper to check for wetness in front of a mirror, or when she zipped him into a footed sleeper hours before bedtime. But he’d come to enjoy the closeness, the protective embrace of her authority. Their love life thrived, too, in its own secret way. While the story behind their padded routines and potty rules was not something they shared with others, it forged a profound trust between them. She cradled him with a mix of parental warmth and adult desire, bridging the gap between caretaker and partner. He, in turn, found joy in pleasing her—accepting her rules, even appreciating them, for what they gave him in return. On a crisp, clear morning, they stood together in the living room, the sun casting bright rectangles across the floor. Meredith had just finished checking his diaper—still dry—and was reminding him of his chores for the day. Leon stared up at her, feeling every inch the smaller man, yet entirely content. “Remember,” she was saying in that measured tone, “if you need the potty, you call me or text me. If I don’t answer, you use the diaper. No accidents on the floor.” “Yes, Meredith,” Leon responded readily. Then, unable to help himself, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his cheek against her torso. “Thank you,” he whispered, though he wasn’t quite sure for what—perhaps for everything. She laughed softly, brushing a hand over his hair. “You’re welcome, little one. Now off you go.” And so their life continued—a carefully balanced blend of loving dominance and welcomed submission, of soft crinkles and locked sleepers, of structure and devotion. In the end, their bond had become unbreakable: the tall, commanding woman and her tiny, adoring boyfriend, joined in a private world of mutual care and trust. Though it defied outside understanding, for them, it was perfect. And in the comfort of that shared knowledge, they closed the door to the rest of the world, content to exist precisely as they were—together.
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Phoebe was a 28 year old who had recently finished her PhD in Economics. After doing that she bought herself a condo in a decent sized suburban city and really wanted to focus more on her personal life after so much time in school. She taught a handful of classes online to support herself. One thing Phoebe had always been into was the ab/dl scene... though she'd never really done much in person, she had always imagined what it would be like to have a girl or boy of her own in diapers. It got her excited anytime she thought about it. She would love to take care of someone like that, but also found a thrill in the idea of taking an otherwise normal adult and trying to turn them into her baby. Phoebe decided she would try to enact her fantasy on her soon to be roommate, 19 year old Erin. She had met Erin once, when Erin came by to see the place. Erin seemed to her like a bit of a keep to herself type...she was a bit below average height and pretty thin. Phoebe could tell Erin wasn't much of a girly girl but something about her made Phoebe think she might just be the right 'type'. Though Phoebe literally knew almost nothing about her. Phoebe had decided to start with a few bold moves on day one to really get an idea of if Erin could be her little girl. It was 5pm and Phoebe knew Erin would be arriving soon. Phoebe told Erin the room would be fully furnished so she figured Erin wouldn't have much to move in. Phoebe was taller, about average build but decently busty...she was in light wash jeans and a casual loose fitting top that exposed a shoulder. Her hair was dark brown and medium length back in a ponytail.
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- regression
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